#oh how the fates remind us of our pride

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

The Birthday - An Interlude - Halloween

"Mommy says when you get scared, you forget your potty training," a soft feminine voice whispered in my ear.

"Mommy says Halloween makes you a scaredy cat, ready to jump at the tiniest spooky or scary thing," the voice continued.

I moaned in my half-asleep state, wondering what was going on, and beginning to feel a deep anxiety form in the pit of my stomach.

"Mommy says that she is the only one who can console you when you get scared."

At the third strange command, I opened my eyes and the reality of what was happening hit me. I was greeted by my wife's grinning face.

"Mommy, please, no!" I said exasperated as Melody gave me a soft, motherly kiss to my forehead.

"Good morning, baby. Happy Halloween!" is all she said as she ignored my futile protest.

It had been nearly six months since the fateful weekend where my wife had discovered my AB/DL kink and treated me to a birthday weekend of both my dreams and nightmares.

Since that weekend, very little had actually changed in my life. Melody had lifted most of the hypnotic triggers she had implanted in me (although I was still forced to refer to her as Mommy, exclusively). She almost never used her 'Mommy says' trigger against me, only reminding me of it if I got "too big for my britches" as she liked to put it.

The only major change is that my little hobby as an AB/DL smut author had become a little more complicated. Melody still allowed me to write my 'little stories' as she liked to put it, but I was no longer the final arbiter of what got posted.

Mommy made me show her each and every story I wrote, and she decided whether it was good enough and 'appropriate' enough to get posted. She also made me make a post apologizing for the treatment of the female characters in my story and explain her newly assumed role of Mommy-editor-in-chief.

My reputation as a big and a dom took a drastic hit. But, over the course of a few months, things settled back down and we settled into comfortable dynamic and rhythm.

That was, until I woke up to my wife's new commands this morning.

"Mommy, please, what did I do? I've been a good boy! You can't do this to me!"

I hated how whiney and small I sounded pleading with my wife like this, but I had long since had my pride beaten out of me.

"Halloween is my favorite holiday! If I can't control myself when I'm scared, if I get scared easily, if I need you to calm me down, I'll… I'll… I'll…"

I couldn't finish my sentence as I realized that, in the early morning hour, the room was still dark. I noticed shadows dancing around the corners of the room and suddenly, a pang of terror, raced through me.

I felt my sheets grow warm and wet beneath me as I let out a panicked cry.

"Mommy!"

I dove for my wife's arms, horrified and desperate for her, the only person I could see as my protector, to help me.

She laughed softly as she pulled me into her arms, and I felt my rational mind retake control.

"Aw, is my little baby afraid of the dark? And," I feel her pat my wet butt, "did you have a little accident! Let Mommy help make it all better."

I whined as she got out of bed and turned on the light, subconsciously rebelling against the lose of the comfort being held by her provided.

As the light turned on, a feeling of relief washed over me as the phantoms in the corners of the room dematerialized. At the same time, I blushed as the light revealed the shameful puddle I had just made in the bed.

"Mommy, please, Halloween is my favorite, you can't make me, force me, let me… I can't be this," I pleaded as Melody walked over to inspect the damage to our bed.

She reached over and brushed her fingers lightly on my cheek as she responded to my pleas.

"Oh, my precious little pants-piddler, you and I both know that Mommy can and will make you be whatever I want," She bent over, making eye contact with me as she showed off her ample cleavage, "And today, I want you to be Mommy's perfect little scaredy-cat toddler."

I groaned, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do to resist Melody's power over me.

"Ok, Mommy," I responded, defeated.

"Perfect, now, let's get you diapered up before some little ghoul or goblin scares you again, and you make another mess."

I just sighed and laid on my back as I waited for Melody to diaper me so the worst Halloween of my life could begin in earnest.

[hiatuswhore]

𝒪𝒻 𝒮𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓈 — 𝒸.𝓈

♕ A/N: I have mixed feelings about the movie but I adore the book. My favorite character is Sejanus, ugh my heart bleeds for this character. Never stop I’d be writing a fanfiction for this story. Coriolanus Snow is an evil but interesting villain. I thought I’d dive into the dynamic of him essentially taking what should’ve been Sejanus’s life.

♕ SUMMARY: Poor Sejanus. Poor sensitive, foolish dead Sejanus. A good son, loving brother, and amazing friend.

♕ WORD COUNT: 1K

♕ WARNING: Death

previous — Masterlist — next

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

Father had not left his study since word reached us. Every time Mother looked at me, I knew it was not me she saw. The tremble of her lip and mist of her eyes reminded me of my new reality. A reality where I drew breath as my twin did not.

I could not process it. Not at first. I would wait for a letter from him in the mail. His ramblings of doing good, of being better a constant any time he opened his mouth. Oh my good brother. Miles away. Hung in the districts for treason.

The first few weeks the house was silent. I could make out Mothers frequent sobs through the day. Other times the deep gait of Fathers boots from his room to his office. Rarely from his office to his room. Our home became much like a graveyard. Empty and cold.

This remained until the day Mother and I woke to every picture of Sejanus in the foyer gone. Mother sobbed for her baby, one would think Father was withholding her actual child. Still, my Father, the stern unforgiving statue of a man, refused to return all that remained of her son to her.

The first thing I began to forget was his voice. All the hours he spent in my room ranting angrily about our father. I’d lay on my bed watching him pace, his passion fueled and furious. I thought maybe he’d be president someday. Panem needed the likes of him.

“Well eventually Fathers time will come to pass and it’ll be you in the position of wealth and power. Be patient sweet brother. You’ll do great things, I just know it.”

He’ll hang in the poorest district branded a traitor. Some say he cried for Mother. Others say he cried for me. Oh how it was few and far between but make no mistake, I wept for my brother. My kind, sweet, sensitive dead brother.

As his voice faded over time so did the small details of his presence. How his curls always stayed so effortlessly in place unlike my own that would become frizzy in a moments notice. The way he his nose would scrunch when he laughed. His obnoxious snores he would deny whenever called out on it.

See, Father was happy to erase Sejanus from our home. His memory a reminder of everything our Father could never be. A compassionate soul. A loving brother and son. A good man.

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫

Then came Coriolanus Snow. His gaze distant as he stood in our foyer, my father greeting him like a son returning home from travels. Long gone the hand made shirts and boots a size too tight. The messy haired Snow appeared far different, he too have died back in twelve. I wondered if he hung too or perhaps his fate was far worse. A mystery to never be solved, especially not if Coriolanus Snow could help it.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” His gaze bounced between myself and Mother. My Father said nothing while Mother embraced Coriolanus as I stared at him.

“Are you?” My words earned a stern tone from Father and scoldings from Mother. I offered a forced apology my eyes never leaving the leech standing in my family home. Gaining the world from the misfortune that befell my dear Sejanus. My father’s new pride and joy. At dinner Father was thrilled to announce his replacement son would join my side at University come the new term.

I left the table without a word. My father yelled for me to return as Mother assured our unwelcome guest it was not personal. Yet it was. Sejanus was to be with me for my first day of University. Not Coriolanus Snow.

Perhaps it was unfair. My brother was dead and I had already spent a lifetime despising my father. So who better to bear the brunt of my anger than the man who gained it all as I suffered my deepest loss.

𝐈 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐈, 𝐈 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐆𝐨

The night before our first day I stayed in my room. A knock at my door was an unexpected and unwelcome one. Mother was never a night owl and never in all my years had Father come to my room. Opening my door I crossed my arms leaning on the jamb. He stands holding a white rose his blue eyes piercing into my blank stare.

“I know you aren’t thrilled about me being here. I uh—I just wanted to wish you a good first day tomorrow,” Coriolanus spoke slowly. The rose still lingered in the air between us. I did not grab it.

“What happened to my brother?” His eyebrows quirked at my question, his lips parted as though he wanted to speak but nothing could leave him. I tilted my head my eyes narrowed before I retreated into my room leaving the door agape. At my shelf I rifled through the few papers and momentos of my own before finding the crumple paper stained with faded ink. The smudge writing typical for my left handed counterpart. My eyes on the paper as I return to the jamb, “…Coriolanus is here too. It’s nice to not be alone. His songbird is here, he plays it cool when I mention her but you can tell he cares for her. We’re like brothers, after what he did for me during the games. I’m going to protect him—“

𝐌𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

“Are you accusing me of something?” His own eyes narrowed down at me. The glint in them something I could not put into words, at the time I had no knowledge of the nerve I struck.

“Did you know of his plans?” I asked crossing my arms, my tone lowered. Father was always a light sleeper, if he had even been sleeping.

Coriolanus sighed, his gaze locked on my own unblinking. I narrowed my eyes and stared up at him. He shouldn’t be here. In my family home, enjoying all the luxuries owed to my brother, not him.

“I did,” Coriolanus confessed. He wet his lips, as he shared his knowledge of treason so casually.

“Then why is my brother gone and you’re here?” The waver of my voice cracked my hardened resolve. My body trembled beneath the weight of too many emotions to sort. Confusion. Rage. Grief. Disbelief. I choked back a cry and allowed Coriolanus to pull me in his arms as I sobbed into his shoulder.

“Sejanus loved you more than anything. I promised I’d look after you,” Coriolanus touch was soothing as he poured honey in my ears. Capitalizing off my vulnerability. My brother’s true final words to me slipped from my grasp as I took comfort from the source of my grief.

“—I have already requested a leave of absence for your first day of University. Look at the bright side sister. You won’t have to fuss about my hair being better than yours on your big day. They have buzzed my curls from me. We’ll be together soon, sister. Give Mother my love. With love. Your brother, Sejanus.”

𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐁𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞

[ladyvelvette]

What if.. Vox forgets our anniversary, reader tries to give him hints. Vox gets very angry and abandons Reader. Then he remembers, He tries looking for reader and take her back. Reader declines vox And leaves, Vox Gets a mental breakdown. The rest is yours to write.

(I need angst please.)

-🖥

TITLE: Forgotten.

Sypnosis: Vox forgot your guy's anniversary and you two get into an argument.

HELLO! This one took way too long to write because I wanted to test a more....mature writing style. I also had a lot of school stuff going on! There's little to no talking it this one because I can't be asked 😭.. SORRY!! I PROMISE ILL WORK HARDER ON THE NEXT ONE. this was typed on mobile btw, so no fancy decora.

In the vibrant tapestry of Hell, where souls sought redemption or fame amidst the chaos, Vox and you found yourselves entangled in a tumultuous dance of love and loss.

As the anniversary approached, anticipation tingled in your veins, each passing moment a silent reminder of the significance of the day. Hints were dropped like delicate petals, each one a whisper of longing, yet Vox, consumed by his own ambitions, remained blind to your silent pleas.

Frustration simmered beneath your surface, patience stretched thin as Vox's obliviousness persisted.

In a moment of heated confrontation, words were exchanged, wounds inflicted that would not easily heal.

"Vox! How could you forget our anniversary!?"

"OH! Calm it, (Name), it's no big deal. If anything, nothing important 's today anyways."

Vox's pride, wounded by your rebuke, erupted into a tempest of anger, and in a rash decision, he turned his back on you, his metallic heart shielded by a facade of indifference, Vox simply stormed out of the room in a fit of rage.

Yet, as time went on and the echoes of your argument faded, Vox's memory stirred, a belated realization dawning upon him like a bolt of lightning in the darkness. With determination born of regret, he set out to find you, intent on making amends and reclaiming what he had foolishly cast aside.

But fate, cruel in its irony, had other plans. Despite Vox's heartfelt pleas and promises of change, you, wounded and emotional, couldn't find it within yourself to forgive the man you once loved with your entire being, the man you would sell your soul to, the man you would do anything for.

With a heavy heart, you declined Vox's advances, choosing instead to turn away, leaving him to grapple with the consequences of his actions, ones that Vox had caused himself. You thought to yourself, "(Name)...He deserves it", yet you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt away.

Alone in the aftermath of your departure, Vox's facade crumbled, revealing the vulnerability he had long sought to conceal. With a primal scream of anguish, he unleashed the full force of his power, a torrent of energy cascading through the depths of Hell.

As the realm was plunged into darkness, Vox was left to confront the wreckage of his own making, the echoes of his regret reverberating through the void. And amidst the chaos he had unleashed, he was forced to reckon with the price of forgetting the one thing that truly mattered.

However, Luck was on the TV demon's side, months later, you couldn't take the overwhelming guilt of leaving the overlord, often missing your lavish lifestyle! That guilt and lack of luxury made you come running back to Vox. As soon as you came back, Vox used his hypnosis powers to keep you in place. He'd never be alone again.....

[your-mom-number5]

God Eric x Reader (House of Ashes)

As I sat across from Eric in our favorite small café that we met at just a few years ago, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about him. Or rather, something I was just now noticing. He had always been a mysterious man, but when he left for a “trip” a few months back, I got the sense that he was keeping something important from me. Something big. Now, with him just returning yesterday and insisting we meet up to catch up today, that feeling was stronger than ever. Now, I was noticing more things I hadn't noticed since first meeting him. It wasn't just his warm smile or the kindness in his eyes, though those traits were certainly there. No, it was something deeper, something almost ethereal that seemed to emanate from his very being.

When Eric had moved here a few years ago, he had become somewhat of a local legend. People whispered about him, speculating on his past and his purpose for being here. Some said he was a retired millionaire, while others claimed he was an undercover agent for the government. But no one could deny the aura of peace and serenity that seemed to follow him wherever he went. 

I had heard the rumors, of course, but I never paid them much mind until that fateful day in the café when we first met. They were in the back of my mind as we shared our first conversation, but then I quickly forgot about the rumors when we started our friendship. Now, with our reunion at the same café, I was reminded of those rumors. 

As we sat sipping our coffee, Eric began to speak in a soft, soothing voice. “How have you been, dear Y/N?” he said.

“Good, what about you?” I whispered. “Where was your trip?”

“Everywhere! I’ve been traveling the world, seeing all it has to offer and providing help where it was needed. Oh, I’m God, by the way.”

At first, I thought he was joking. But as he continued to speak, I realized that he was deadly serious. He spoke of creating the world, of shaping it with his own hands, and of watching over it with a mixture of pride and sadness. After a few hours of talking, I began to believe him.

It wasn't just the words he spoke, the conviction with which he spoke them, or the bright aura surrounding him that nearly blinded me, but it was the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to know things that no mortal could possibly know. It was the way he looked at me, as though he could see straight into my soul and understand every fear, every hope, every secret that I held, including my search history.

In that moment, I realized that Eric was more than just a man. He was something greater, something beyond comprehension. And as I looked into his eyes, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, knowing that no matter what trials and tribulations life may bring, there was someone out there watching over us, guiding us, and loving us unconditionally. That Eric was out there watching over us, guiding us, and loving us unconditionally.

And as I left the café that day, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the brief glimpse into the divine that Eric had given me. For in his presence, I had felt closer to something greater than myself, something infinite and eternal. And though I may never fully understand the mysteries of the universe, I knew that as long as Eric was around, everything would be okay.

[elizakai]

RADIANCE REPUDIATION

A Dreamtale Poem (word dump?)

from an entity who believes their an angel, fallen. 🌙

to an entity they believe to pose as one. ☀️

(aka written from Nightmares pov towards Dream, somewhat)

⬇️⬇️ UNDER THE CUT ⬇️⬇️

isn’t it funny? How Time changes Or rather, refuses to

Time doesn't change, in actuality Such is only perception on the part of lower beings Mortals The acute minds of smaller entities

Time Continues steadily Time knows only one loyalty Yes, Time is faithful

For you, the same cannot be said.

It's funny.

You spawn of Regret Regret, a curse that can be escaped Or, alas, could have been, had hindsight not hidden her naked body from your youthful eyes

Irony, too, plays with it's food But, of all this you are aware.

Or…are you? Do you regret? Do you grieve?

…of course not What am I thinking Of course not.

…It's funny

Nurturing such questions

It's…funny

Fate has laid her pieces out And you have made your moves Woe to you, it seems, one who is set in their ways

One who is set in stone.

Hardened is your soul, your essence Why is it we were placed wrongly on this scale? Alas, it seems your longing for mercy goes unanswered Alas, we've fallen from what little grace we'd attained

That is the nature of things This world rewards those who reap misfortune

A bittersweet misfortune, it is

It's funny.

What pride have you, to rebel Fate and her peons?

What arrogance do you cling to? That you may set things right?

Though, I suppose… That, we shall share always. Eternity till Entropy Until one or the other crumbles

Remember, chimera, stone is brittle. The blood of a companion is thicker than the waters of birth. Of this I am relieved… For you've long since tainted the streams of our youth. No tree can grow in a parasitic wasteland.

That is, none that will last.

No, long gone is the person I once thought to know Long dead, are they, and no requiem shall I hold.

Loathe am I to the sowers of our misfortune

Loathe am I to the mother of our wakefulness. It would have been better to have never existed.

To have never known you To have never held you To have never loved you To have never lost you

But Solace is my lover, for she reminds me that it is not I, nor myself, nor him to blame, but you.

Her and them and you and you and you and-

It's funny.

Scramble up the hill A hill of graves Tombstones upon tombstones, add as many as you will. Will it ever be enough for you? Their downfall will not be your upbringing The ladder is unstable Your goal is unattainable.

Claw, fight, scream

Not an ear will turn to you in pity

Humorous, Karma and the bubbling brooks of her laughter

Where is your control?

When did you pass it to me, pray tell?

…unfortunate fool. Not an ear will turn to you in compassion

Forever out of reach, as long as free will remains mine

Time changes not But every person does, will, must! Oh the pained naivety! Does rock abstain one from growth? Silly me! Silly you!

w h y a r e n ' t y o u l a u g h I n g ?

…I can't hear her laughing anymore.

I can't hear her at all.

The laughter is him. Always him. Us? us.

You were never needed, were you, oh iridescent zephyr?

Acceptance.

A weapon I've obtained A defense you've yet to claim

Illusion of the unconscious mind, feeder of false hope, luminous liar of the night. Dearest delusion of grandeur.

Rest now, in what grief you can muster

Rest now, in the act of sorrow you play

You're 500 years behind.

It’s 500 years too late.

[touchmycoat]

pride and prejudice AU, WIP that I WILL finish for ficwip5k

“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” Wei Wuxian lectured, “that a single man in possession of good cultivation must be in want of a cultivation partner. And have you heard, my three ridiculous children? Qiong Ding Manor has let at last.”

“Oh my,” Shen Jiu, the second oldest of the lot (also the second youngest for that matter), intoned flatly as he scrubbed the dirt from an enormous radish in a washing basin. “You must want to tell us who’s taken it.”

“I want someone to ask me first,” Wei Wuxian sighed, throwing a hand over his forehead and himself over a hard wooden bench. “But of course my cruel, demonic sons are beyond pity for their poor parent. Except A-Yuan. A-Yuan ah, you’re not one of the cruel, demonic ones, are you?”

Shen Yuan cleared his throat, set down the cabbage he was peeling apart, and put on an angelic smile just a beat too late.

“Certainly not. Do tell, dearest father, who has let Qiong—uh, Qiong…?”

“Qiong Ding.”

“Qiong Ding Manor?”

Look beatific, was Shen Yuan’s self-reminder, but again it was too late, even with Shen Jiu’s murmured assist. Wei Wuxian had dropped to his knees in the dirt and begun shaking his fists at the sky.

“Oh this unfair world, oh wretched fate! At my darkest hour you drop three brilliant young souls into my path to light my way across the lone-log bridge, and in return I have taken on your mission to nourish them into adulthood. All I wish is to ensure they have cultivation partners capable of keeping them comfortable for the rest of their lives but look here, what are these pieces you’ve dealt me? My eldest, who would be disingenuous to placate his crazy old father! My second, who brandishes his cutting comments without a filial care in the world! And my third!”

The sixteen-year-old, as stretched out and delicate as the vine on a beanpole at his age, smiled a lazy little smile before gutting the rabbit in his hands.

“Always just sitting there like a pretty little flower, head empty. Hua-hua ah,” Wei Wuxian said miserably. “Don’t you know you have the worst lot here, being the youngest? You ought to be encouraging your brothers to go to more functions, meet more potential partners.”

“And why should we be so eager to sell ourselves off as spiritual energy storage tanks to some rich Young Master or Mistress?” Hua Cheng asked idly. The meat he shaved off the hunted game hit the hot wok in loud sizzling chunks, and Shen Yuan readied a bucket of water to make it into stew. “Is father anticipating death sometime soon?”

Wei Wuxian and Shen Yuan both froze. An unintentional jerk splashed water from Shen Yuan’s bucket into the wok, and oil exploded into the air like the aftermath of a bomb. Meanwhile, Shen Jiu walloped the head off the daikon he’d polished as white as mutton fat jade and jabbed the blade in Hua Cheng’s direction.

“This is why nobody will ever want to cultivate with you.”

“But I learned it all from you and your line of suitors out the door, Er-ge”

“Boys,” Shen Yuan interrupted, “enough. Our father is not dying. Is he?”

Wei Wuxian waved both hands carelessly.

“Of course not! Don’t be ridiculous, the evil, all-powerful Yiling Patriarch cannot die—no matter how much his youngest son curses him. Hua-hua, how could you bear saying such a thing?”

Without a word, Hua Cheng bent down, picked up the radish head Shen Jiu had thrown his way, and lobbed it at Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian caught it without thought, and the moment it touched his bare hands, the leftover greens at the top wilted—and then the whole thing promptly dissipated to dust that fell through Wei Wuxian’s fingers before anybody could react.

Shen Yuan set the bucket down and started forward, energy coating his fingertips.

“Let me—”

“Don’t—” The red flickered out of Wei Wuxian’s eyes as swiftly as it flickered in. He was grinning again, a toothsome expression that was every bit as disingenuous as Shen Yuan’s smile had been moments ago. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to touch your elders without ceremony? Let your father have a little dignity here! In fact, you ought to treat your father like the legendary Patriarch he is!”

“Then the legendary Patriarch,” Shen Jiu said, expression neutral though tilting on the side of concern, visible only to the family who knew him best, “ought to get out of this filthy kitchen. Heavens know you’re too lazy to help with the prep.”

“A-Jiu’s right,” Shen Yuan said, hand retracted and smiling with a touch of apology. “Won’t our esteemed father please make his way to the dining hall, where the meal will be brought to him with proper ceremony?”

Wei Wuxian looked like he wanted to pat them both on the head. Shen Yuan had a distant memory of him doing that long, long ago, but not for years now.

“Finally, a display of the proper teachings I’ve given you. Yes, this father shall be waiting then. I’ll even bring out the good china.”

By which he meant the set of four bowls without chips on the rim, only cracks along the body. It’s poetic, Wei Wuxian liked to say, swishing soup in his bowl like a wise old philosopher pondering tea. Scars and damage, such and such, you know? If you know you know. (To which Shen Jiu had replied, you’re dripping soup everywhere.)

Once Wei Wuxian had gone, the three brothers proceeded with the stew in silence: Hua Cheng expressionless, Shen Jiu scowling, and Shen Yuan eyeing them both. After a while, Shen Jiu finally threw down his cutting board.

“Wei Wuxian’s not dying,” he declared. “And even if he is, we’ve got enough demonic cultivation between the three of us to bring him back. Why did you have to bring it up you insensitive little jerk?”

“Merely to encourage my brothers,” Hua Cheng replied, speaking coolly over Shen Yuan’s admonishment for calling his brother names, “to go to more functions and meet more potential partners.”

//

So the thing was, Shen Yuan was a transmigrator.

No, that was neither a misspelling nor a misunderstanding. Shen Yuan was a transmigrator, a bright young modern mind (read: an internet-obsessed shut-in) who died and got placed into the universe of a classic novel—one of his favorites that he’d been rereading just before dying, in fact. He was lucky, he supposed, that he was placed in the actual novel and not its zombie apocalypse, sorta-tongue-in-cheek sorta-taking-itself-too-seriously spinoff, which he’d also been (spite-)reading on-and-off. Though there had been some zombies in sight when he first got to this world, Wei Wuxian took care of them with such ease that Shen Yuan knew these were only the zombies in the classical Chinese sense, not the scary movie sense.

As for misfortunes, Shen Yuan supposed he would say the worst he’d suffered was first transmigrating into the body of a nine-year-old. That put him now, at twenty-four all over again, fifteen years in Wei Wuxian’s not-so-tender care, which was absolutely batshit to think about. So Shen Yuan didn’t think about it.

[jieanette]

Since you guys voted for the last poll I made, here's some stuff I've written for Cecil/Bartz :)

warning: Some of these might be a little ooc, sorry about that.

...

[Cecil takes Bartz to see the night sky (they're on the airship)]

"Come, I want to show you something."

"You know I don't like being up there."

"Just hold onto my hand. You'll be alright, I promise."

"Okay..."

"Why are we here?"

"Look up."

"Geez-oh-pete! Look at that beauty!"

"I've never seen the stars so up close before."

"One of the things I did when I was part of the Red Wings, was to look at the sky during nightfall. I would just lay here and appreciate the stars."

"There's something about the stars that felt... a little different to me. It always gives me comfort whenever I lost my way."

"In some ways... it felt like home to me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes... Sorry if I sound weird-"

"No, I get you. We feel melancholy when we're away from our home, and nature reminds us of it. Just like how the wind made me feel homesick about Lix. How it made me miss my folks, too."

"Hah... if my dad was here, seeing me looking up the stars... He'll say, "Bartz! It's past your bedtime, go to bed already!"

Cecil laughs with Bartz.

"I miss him... and my mom too."

"I wish I had met my parents."

"But you have your brother."

"I do... But he really never tells me anything. Everytime we meet, he's..."

"Why do families have to be so complicated sometimes?"

"Beats me."

[silence]

"Hey, just so you know... Even if your own brother can't be there for you. I'll stick by your side, no matter what."

"Are you sure? I don't think I'm much to be around..."

"I think you do. Everyone should have someone on their side, even you."

"You really think so?"

"Of course!"

"Thank you... You're much too kind."

"Don't sweat it, I'm only doing what a friend should do!"

...

[Based on the ending of Dissidia 012]

"Cecil, wait!"

Cecil turned to see Bartz running towards him, a crystal in hand. Before he knew it, his lips touched Bartz's, receiving a small but bittersweet kiss. It was the first time he was kissed, and the feeling of Bartz's body against his, intertwining only with their lips gave him the warm feeling he longed for. He kissed back, knowing it will be the last time they'll get to see each other again.

They let go after a while, feeling hot breaths against their faces. Cecil watched as Bartz slowly disappear.

"I love you."

That was his final words to him.

"I love you too."

That was the last Bartz heard from Cecil, as he travels back home.

...

"Here!"

Bartz handed a rather thick scarf to Cecil.

"Where did you get this?"

"Made it myself," He beamed with pride as he said it.

"I noticed you were always so cold, so I thought having scarf would help!"

"That was quite sweet of you, Bartz," Cecil was quite touched at his care and sentiment.

"Wear it, I wanna see how it looks on you," he asked eagerly.

Cecil warpped around the scarf on his neck and shoulders. It was soft to touch, making it rather comfortable to wear. The cold feeling that Cecil always gets was diminished quickly, and he could feel the warmth all around his upper body.

"You look really cute on that."

The compliment made Cecil blushed in embarrassment. The red tint glowed against his pale skin. He tried to hide it with his newly made scarf.

...

[Fair warning, I haven't got to Gilgamesh in FFV yet, I used a video from Dissidia. Again, sorry for some inaccuracies and ooc]

"Seriously? Now?" Bartz sighed in irritation.

"Where else? It is a perfect place for our fated rematch!" Gilgamesh hawked.

"We're in a middle of something here. Like, you know, a date?"

"Ah, Bartz, you would let something so trivial hold you back? Surely your date isn't more important than our match!"

"It kinda is."

Normally Bartz is entertained by Gilgamesh's antics, however, this was one of the only times he could have alone time with Cecil, and he's frustrated that he had to deal with him now. He looked to Cecil, he had a neutral face, and somehow he could tell he was slightly amused by his odd rival. He glanced back at him, giving a small smile.

"I don't think he'll stop if you resist. You should fight him."

"See? Your lover wants the match too! Would you protest in his demands?"

"Are you sure, Cecil?"

"Yes, the faster you deal with him, the sooner we can continue," he nodded.

"If it's a match he wants, he will have it!" Bartz pumped his fist, bracing himself for Gilgamesh.

"I expected no less from my chosen rival! Steel yourself!"

"It's one-on-one!"

Cecil took a step back, watching as Bartz fought with Gilgamesh. He had always heard of their matches from Bartz, and often times it ended with him winning. So he wasn't so worried when they fought, knowing and trusting his lover to fight well in their match. It was also his first time meeting him, and it seemed like what Bartz said about him was true, he was quite overdramatic and silly, that Cecil couldn't help but to chuckle. It was an interesting date, suffice to say.

As expected, Bartz got an upper hand and won. Gilgamesh was a respectable rival, acknowledging his strengths even when defeated. He was about to go on a long speech, until he faded away.

[lil-gingerbread-queen]

Today is Bastille Day!

I must admit, I'm patriotic.

Being a patriot and a nationalist isn't the same thing, don't believe these racists pos who started to call themselves "patriots" instead of "nationalists" to look better. Being a patriot means you love your country and you find pride in it. Being a nationalist means you think your country is the best and if you must share it, it's by being in power over others.

Fascists love to call themselves patriots when they are just nationalists. They say they love this country, but they know nothing of its history or its values. They insult its morals and they refuse to work for a better future. Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité, they respect none of that.

I love my country, that's why I want it to be better. I know my people can be better. On the 14th of July 1789, all of Paris, except the disabled and the children, gathered around the Bastille. It was not the start of the Révolution, it actually started on the 23rd of April, with the Réveillon debacle. But this was the first victory of the people. The Revolution ideology was not nationalist, it was utopian, dreaming of equality between ALL humans on Earth, of people moving freely between countries, of the end of oppression. And if people from a country felt under a dictator, all the world would unite to save them. Liberty for all, equality for all, we are all siblings. And we will fight for each other. That's why I say I'm a revolutionary. I believe in this ideology, I believe in changing the system completely to serve human rights.

Today, they love to paint the Révolution as a violent mess, and to condone the violence of the people, while holding its symbols. It's insulting, really, how they use these symbols but deny their meanings, their history. "Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité" was first pronounced by Robespierre, that they paint as a dictator or a terrorist (looking at you, USA), in a speech condoning "police" brutality, where he called for the authorities to not have the right to brandish their guns at unharmed people. A speech between his call to end slavery, to end xenophobia and calling black and jews folks our siblings, to end the death penalty, to put human rights above the laws. The Marseillaise is a reminder of the fate oppressors will face if they try to take our human rights away. It is very violent because it's the image of the rage the people felt after centuries of abuse, and condoning this justified rage is unacceptable. Marianne is in every city hall, Marianne is the allegory of freedom, guiding the people to fight the government who oppressed them, walking on the dead corpses of the traitors to the human race, the soldiers killing the people. They tell us that protesting, rioting, fighting the police forces is unacceptable, and yet, we celebrate Bastille Day, when the people took a prison and stole the weapons of the government to fight it. "Oh no, it's not the Bastille we are celebrating, it's the Federation Day." Why are you ashamed of the Bastille Day? Because it is too violent for you? The people finally getting power is too violent for you? They hate the people getting violent, because they know it's against them. They condone it, but it's the result of their own behavior, their own violence. They say we can throw rocks at cops while being on strike because we are getting paid nothing, but that's what the people did when they struck against Réveillon. Starving the people is violence, you are just reaping what you sow.

I love my country, I love its history, its symbols. I will fight for my country and for the human rights, and that means fighting against my own government. It's our history, it's our morals, and there's nothing they can do about it.

Vive la Révolution, et vive la France !

[casspurrjoybell-32]

Taken - Blue Moon Series - Chapter 23b

*Warning Adult Content*

Elder Cyrus

There was a pause between both my group and the attackers.

One moment we were all having a fun time, Gale and I bantering back and forth when there was a sudden breeze.

Lakota was in front of us holding a serrated knife in his bare hand all of a sudden.

It was only for a few seconds but we were all taken back by Lakota's quick bold reflexes in his act to protect us.

In astonishment, my eyes trailed up from my mate's hand to his eyes and saw something I had never wanted to see again.

They were glowing a dangerous yellow, more intense than his normal soft gold.

There was a look of calm rage.

It sent chills down my spine... that was a new feeling for me.

Not much scared me these days but my usually soft mate's expression was no joke and I knew this wasn't going to end well.

The sound of Lakota's blood splashing on the concrete broke the tension and everything moved rather quickly.

Gale took his arm away from me and ran into the fray.

I was only a second behind him.

There were about five guys against our three, easy.

Lakota turned his body inwards and used his elbow to jab it into his attacker's gut making him let go of his knife and he took it.

Flipping it in the air and catching the handle smoothly in his already wounded hand, he jabbed it into the assailant's neck.

The man gargled through his now useless throat and dropped hard.

I know I taught Lakota how to fight but I didn't think he would be so ruthless with it.

It both filled me with pride and frightened me at the same time.

His killing someone, without an inch of hesitation, was a sad sight to see and honestly, he didn't deserve it.

Why couldn't he just have it easy?

Fate was cruel to my mates and I was about done with it.

One of the hooded attackers came after me and as all the shock quickly passed.

I was finally able to process the scent of wolves.

So they weren't random people attacking us.

I grabbed his arm as he tried to punch me and turned my body into him, using his weight as I flipped him over my back on to his.

He hit the ground loudly.

His breath was knocked out of him and I brought my knee down on his sternum, crushing it inward and moved to go onto the next guy but there were none left.

It was then I recognized the musky scent that had been teasing my nose this whole time.

It reminded me of Leo Bateman, Lakota's father.

These were the Rogues from his pack.

How the hell did they find us?

The last man to drop was only moments after I was done with my one guy as Nicholas unlatched his teeth from the wolf's neck and let him fall, completely drained.

Wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and presented me with a rather sinister and bloody smile.

"You're slow, Cyrus."

"Oh no. We have another smart-ass Gale in our midst," I sighed as the previous excitement died down.

There was an uneasy laugh amongst us all.

I looked over at Lakota as he stood silently with a small smile like nothing had happened but I could see his eyes were telling a different story.

"Lakota are you okay?" I asked as I moved towards him.

"I'm fine."

His hand was still bleeding and it accrued to me that since his wolf was gone he wouldn't be able to heal like he used to.

He was practically human.

"Shit," I exclaimed

We needed to get his hand healed up quickly.

Gale glanced towards his bleeding hand too and understood exactly what had me worried.

Moving with his crazy speed he took Lakota's hand and brought it up to his mouth.

His eyes caught mine and I knew that this was a dangerous thing for him to do but he wasn't going to let his mate bleed one more second longer.

I could tell the moment Lakota's blood touched his lips.

His eyes turned from their warm brown to the sultry hungry black color that completely took over the whites of his eyes.

When I heard the moan leave Gale's lips I knew we had to get out of here fast.

Nicholas was on it in moments, as he ran to his brother in a blur and practically tore him from Lakota, taking him away from his mate and the fair.

As he was taken away there was a chilling growl that was definitely not a happy sound.

I was right behind them, as I grabbed Lakota in my arms and got out of here before we were caught by the humans.

And as we fled, there was one thing on my mind.

'Leo Bateman had a lot of explaining to do.'

[goldenboywrites]

Twisting his body to look at the prince, Iggy looked at him with narrowed eyes. “My apologies, prince.” He flicked his gaze up and down the man’s body, pursing his lips. “I was under the impression we were having a friendly chat.” He had to admit that he liked irritating the prince in such a way. It was a thrill to address a royal with snark and bite and not be immediately thrown into a cell. Of course, that was still a real possibility, but because of their mark, Iggy had more leeway than most others. If he were locked in a cell, there is no doubt that the prince would be forced to suffer alongside him. 

Oh yes, Iggy would delight in finding all the ways he could skirt by without punishment because of what he was to the prince. Victor would be ever so proud. 

But he knew when he could throw someone a bone, so Iggy walked the few steps towards Julius, closing the distance between them. His expression softened as he peered at the man before him. “My magic is me. To know me is to know it. It’s no different than blood when you think about it. It fuels me; it grows with me and adapts to situations depending on my needs. After we are bonded fully, it’ll belong to you just as much as it does to me. Knowing that used to irk me. I’m an only child, so I’ve never been good at sharing, but I’ve grown to accept my purpose. It helps a little,” He paused, smiling shyly at the prince. “To see that you’re fairly decent looking, I suppose.”

“So what’s the verdict, my prince?” Iggy bent down, his hand coming into contact with the fountain as he hovered over Julius, his gaze dipping from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes again, where he held the contact. “I’ve told you about our future. I even showed you a little magic trick. Without anything else in the balance, how would you judge me?” At their closeness, Iggy felt the bond between them hum happily. It was as if their string of fate was pulsing with pride that the two of them had come together. Despite the warmth that washed over him, Ignatius had to remind himself that it wasn’t his feelings. He didn’t know the prince sitting before him. He didn’t trust him. It was a cruel twist of fate forcing them to be together, to want to be together. Oh, but it felt so sweet to be close to him. Mere inches were separating them. He could press their lips together if Iggy bent down an inch more. “I’d love to hear your assessment.”

It wasn't until that moment that Julius truly felt the bite of this man's words. He didn't make a comment on it but quietly tucked that away to mull over later on his own. For now he needed to be diplomatic because there was still a lot he needed to learn from his man. And if he was to be honest, he truly wasn't in a position to be arguing or insisting that this man was wrong. So while it tore at him not to correct him with his own beliefs, Julius simply nodded to keep the peace for the time they had. After all, a little challenge never hurt anyone. He couldn't help but to smile instead. Knowing that he'd had his work cut out for him in more ways than one. But the weight of what he said truly started to sink in and he felt his stomach start to go with it.

"I didn't want to come here and fight with you about what everyone else has done." His tone was smooth but firm. He meant to learn from this man and he wanted the same for him. He hoped it could be that way. As he'd just told him, they'd be spending their lives together and Julius didn't want it to be terrible. If it didn't have to be. But he was starting to see a little sliver of what was so dear to Iggy and naturally he'd have been upset. Magic was a precious thing in this world and especially those that wielded it. Julius didn't pretend to know how or why the deal was struck between their people but they were products of centuries of choices. That didn't mean they had to always follow their ancestors lead.

"I wanted to get to know you not your magic." He spoke plainly, his gaze shifting back to take him in. The way he stood so tall as if he were the king of the realm. The swagger he had was something the prince could definitely appreciate. And he had to admit, it helped to know that this one actually had a sense of humor. He wouldn't be like his friends here at court or even his advisors. Julius was growing more and more excited about the thought of spending time alone with him. Getting to know all the ins and outs and he liked to see the way those lips curled up when he smiled, even if these ones were forced. He'd imagine the real ones were truly breathtaking. Getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? Julius felt his cheeks heat again and he cleared his throat, stretching his legs out before him as he settled in. "I'm asking questions because I'm not sure we've ever been told the truth of the mark or anything and quite frankly..." He trailed off, his shoulders shrugging as he sighed out. The smile threatening to pull out again. "I wanted to make my own judgement on you without anything else in the balance." But as he spoke he knew what else was coming for him then. "You're my guest now and I hope you to be my friend before anything else after." He knew he should have called him exactly what he was but that word was too heavy and it made the feelings inside of him stir something fierce.

[iameliseposts]

WAIT IF REQUESTS ARE OPEN CAN I REQUEST FOR LILIA X GN READER WITH THE PROMPT “I’ll remind everyone of our love” PLEASE? HSBSHSHE I LOVE THE PROMPTS YOU CHOSE FOR THE EVENT, ALSO HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERS IM SO PROUD IF YOU!

Take care of yourself hun! <3

Omg thank you so much!! I worked really hard creating these prompts! And tysm requesting!

If you want to request for my 200 followers event, look here

This is my first soft yandere fic here, so I hope it's good. I hope you enjoy!

“I’ll remind everyone of our love.” Lilia x MC 200 Followers Event

Lilia loves you. He’ll always love you. He has loved you from the day you stepped into Twisted Wonderland and will keep his adoration for you. 

He had first heard about you from Malleus. He couldn’t believe his ears when Malleus had told him that the magicless prefect was not only unafraid of the most powerful and feared fae Malleus was, but also befriended that fae. He was over the moon Malleus formed such a relationship with someone, so much that he too wished to meet you.

He first took notice of you during the winter break. Oh, he had seen you before and yet, this was the first time he got to speak with you one on one. …You were everything he could have ever imagined. Never during his long, long time in this world had he met a person like you. He couldn’t describe it. You weren’t particularly outstanding, especially compared to the unique characters in NRC. You were you and it enticed Lilia. 

He started visiting you regularly. Popping in Ramshackle without warning and scaring you and poor Grim half to death (fortunately Lilia can bring some premium tuna and Grim won’t complain). He visited more than your first year friends did. And you had grown quite attached to your fae. 

It was Lilia who confessed his love first. Years of life experience made it slightly easier for him to get his feelings off his chest. However, it didn’t dispel the butterflies of his passion that fluttered- no, that swarmed in his core. His devotion was met with yours in kind. From this moment forward, your fate became woven in the obsession Lilia spun with his spinning wheel and called the spindle his love.

The students in Night Raven College had… quite some character. With their temper, their pride, their greed and their strong magic. They must be terrifying for a precious magicless human such as you. Why go anything when the people here are prone to being so reckless. I mean, look at all these overblots. Such honey-coated words were all Lilia needed to keep you in Ramshackle. 

“Why go out when I can show you a kinder world. A world for the two of us.” Lilia had promised. And he fulfilled that promise. He’d give you anything you desired; the new limited edition drink that was running out, the latest gaming console that was way too costly for a regular student, any furniture with the fabric you could instantly doze off on like Silver. 

Oh, you wanted to see other people? Lilia brought Malleus over too. He had even introduced you to Silver and Sebek. Silver was happy you made his father so happy and Sebek… was Sebek, but you could tell he was growing fond of you. Isn’t this nice? You, your friends and your Lilia. His perfect family. A family he wasn’t going to let go of. Of course he wasn’t going to, it was your family as well. 

Alas, even though Lilia had tried his best to stop prying eyes from gazing on you, you still go to classes. You wanted to learn about this world and Lilia wasn’t going to stop that even though he would prefer to tutor you. And eyes pried upon your form. 

Some foolish freshman thought it best to confess his feelings to you. Ha! How absolutely ridiculous. This freshman wasn’t the brightest, but Lilia supposes none of the freshmen are. However, this first year has some nerve, asking you out. 

“Lilia-” You gasped as your fae nipped at your delicate neck. You were back in Ramshackle, where you were most, sitting on top of Lilia lap.

Lilia kept pressing his lips to your neck, making red marks on your skin. How precious. “Don’t fret my dear. That man won’t bother you anymore. No one will dare make such moves on you again. I’ll remind everyone of our love.”

And Lilia kept his promise. You knew by now Lilia always kept his promises. You never saw that freshman again. You knew you could keep demanding and he’d warmly oblige. He doted on you, spoiling you as much as you wanted. The tenderness in his heart was all you wanted, after all. He wished for you to stay in Ramshackle, so why not? He was there with you, so you could always be amused and loved. 

[theirwolfbicanthrope]

this is going to be kind of all over the place but I am delighted having this discussion!

"Him not being able to directly lie to Ellen makes so much sense, even if he was more aggressive about it, it was a covenant between a sorcerer and sorceress, of course theres limitations going both ways."

Yes! He's certainly not above manipulating the truth to deceive and suit his needs, but his scenes with Ellen still feel a little more honest than I think even he is comfortable with. It also reminds me of stories with the Fae where they can't lie but they can bend the truth to their purposes. (Beyond the demon/devil comparisons, there is something very Fae-esque about the way Orlok operates imo.)

"It also makes me kind of wonder how much Orlok knows about Thomas & Thomas/Ellen from his castle point of view. He implies he knows things about their lives he probably shouldn’t from way over there but I can’t tell how much. Is it just when he’s psychically linked to Ellen?"

OH TO KNOW! but it does leave a lot of wiggle room with fanfic lol. Did actually meeting Thomas change anything? Was it what he was expecting? Did Thomas surprise him? As much as I am burning to know definitive answers, I feel like it's probably more fun that there's a lot of ambiguity to play around with there.

"If Thomas had been more like Friedrich, Orlok would probably have felt more threatened by him."

brief off topic comment - I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS OF THE PARALLELS/COMPARISONS BETWEEN FRIEDRICH AND ORLOK. SOMEDAY.

"However Thomas being deferential and naturally rather unassertive (until Ellen’s safety is in question/he learns Orlok is a vampire who might be planning to kill him) appeals to his sense of pride."

yes, exactly! Thomas is annoying in the first 1.5 seconds but then Orlok snaps about being properly addressed and Thomas just immediately falls in step, and I could see him being like 'yes yes good' but also 'wait, this is what she picked over me??' and Not Getting It. but it ultimately does work in Thomas' favor.

"Then a switch in perspective from “this man stole my bride” to “Ellen got herself a pet devoted husband, so basically that’s our pet devoted husband now, shared property and all that.”"

CACKLING. EXACTLY. I do love this angle. It's so delightful.

"I also think Orlok’s love thing is his own hang up and he’s more human than he’d like to believe."

Oh, absolutely agree. He is so arrogant around Thomas and Knock and does things that bring up his status and power, yet with Ellen he calls himself "loathsome beast" and while I do think some of that dialogue was manipulating and trying to pin the blame for what was happening on her as much as him, I still feel that he does in ways hate what he's become. A shadow of his former self. All that power but he's a recluse, bound to his grave.

I also feel that both aspects of Orlok - what remains of the human man who was a wealthy nobleman that sold his soul or at least put it in peril for more knowledge and more power, and the vampiric creature he's become - are afraid of love. Love is a weakness. Love is a weapon. He uses Ellen and Thomas' love against them, it is a weak spot, and I think the thought that he could be so weak (and he IS, he IS, it's what undoes him in the end imo) is utterly horrifying. So while he wants to love her he also hates the very thought of it.

"He’s extremely emotionally repressed and lonely, he refuses to be vulnerable"

yes yes yes! precisely! my reading of him is that he'd basically made peace with his cursed fate, barricaded into his crumbling home, and then this little mortal's plea just barges into his solitude, and his loneliness becomes so much greater. so he wants this creature who is similar to him, because then he won't be alone. but he doesn't want to be weak, and he's both an infernal nightmare creature and a nobleman with nothing to rule, so he goes about everything in just the Worst Way and drives her into the arms of another.

The contract irks the lawyer minded part of me because I feel like a spiritual contract should not work like a legal contract. The legal part of marriage is the government going “we know you’re married here’s some specific spousal rights you have” which could be recognized or unrecognized based on a contract.

However, spiritually speaking marriage is two people just deciding they’re married, so if both halves of a married couple after a contract is signed still see themselves as being married (because the contract was signed unknowingly) that should still be in place. Idk maybe Orlok is just obsessed with legal marriage contracts.

[jarofstyles]

Wings 4

Here’s part 4!

If you like this, check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings!

——

Waking up dazed and confused in a bed she had no idea who it belonged to wasn’t on her list of things to do this week. The shower was running in the other room, and when she buried her head back in the pillow it immediately began to come back to her.

The smell was cool and pine. Like a forest. A hint of cinnamon. It was the demon. The one she had been thinking about all week long, the one that had her feeling utterly conflicted. It went against everything she was as an angel to be romanticizing the creature so much, thinking about him in sinful ways. But she couldn’t help it.

It had to be fate that they’d met again last night. The night came back to her in flashes, wincing as she buried her face back into the pillow with a quiet groan. She wouldn’t ever live down the embarrassment she was feeling right now. It was just confusing.

Why did he help her? It wasn’t in a demon’s nature to be helpful, least nothing to an angel. That was the curious bit. Why would he feel inclined to help her out… unless he was perhaps feeling similarly to her?

No.

That was ridiculous, her mind was romanticizing a man who she didn’t know, who was a gosh darn demon! Why, she hadn’t a clue. But she knew that it would be better to have a Swift and simple goodbye after she thanked him for his deed.

She laid face down in his bed with her mind running rampant until she realized the shower had shut off, and she could feel a presence in the room. It had her skin prickling, feeling the eyes on her as she slowly turned around.

The air was nearly stolen from her lungs when she saw the being standing at the end of the bed. Dripping wet hair, towel loosely and very much too low. Pale skin covered in dark black swirls of ink from his collar bones and disappearing down to his hips. Both arms had designs, though the left was much more covered. He was built in a beautiful way, with broad vest and shoulders that dipped into a narrower waist. Larger biceps.

And his face?

His face.

She hadn’t seen it in daylight before, and there were sheer black curtains blocking out the clear lights but it was bright enough that she could see that she hadn’t been making up his beauty from arousal or inebriation. He truly was stunning.

Sharp cheekbones and jaw, strong nose and slightly wild brows. He had a hoop going through his lip and his mouth was a whole other topic. A dark pink that reminded her of wilting peonies in the best way. She didn’t even realize she was staring until she met his dark green eyes.

There was something about them. They weren’t expressing any clear emotion, but she felt them strongly. She wanted to squirm, but she also wanted to melt back into the mattress and spread her lush thighs. Let him crawl up the bed and shower her in a taste of that mouth and do dirty things, dark things that utterly terrified and aroused her to think about.

“H-Hi.” She squeaked, sitting up in the bed.

Harry stared at the disheveled angel, torn on what to do. After having slept (kind of) next to her all night- which realistically meant staring as her nose scrunched like a bunny when she had her dream or she kicked out her leg or pouted, he was a bit unsure how to feel.

Especially because she didn’t have a nightmare.

A common side effect of a sleepover with a demon, sexual or not was an intense nightmare. Demons made people face their biggest fears. He knew angels did get them too, so the face she looked so peaceful and serene all night and walking in to see her looking genuinely rested was a bit spooky.

Her wide eyed gaze made him want to take off the towel and drag her over by her hair, use her throat to make himself cum again. The shower hadn’t been enough. She was beautiful, deliciously sweet smelling and he wanted a bite. But that wasn’t an option.

Whatever this thing was of them doing the awkward song and dance was going to end.

“Are you going to go?” He asked bluntly, looking bored even though he was anything but. He could tell the cold tone had hit her when her tiny smile had dropped along with her whole face, eyes dripping to the blanket as her shoulders dropped.

And fuck if it didn’t feel like he had been kicked in the stomach.

That was something that wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to feel guilt when speaking or hurting the feelings of any angel. Even despite their charming ways, it wasn’t meant to bother him. So why did the sad look in her eye when she looked back up at him make him want to feed himself to the hellhounds?

“Y-yeah. I am. I just wanted to say thank you.” She said softly, standing up and slipping on the shoes Harry had gotten off of her. She had one of his tee shirts on top of her thin white dress, a dark black contrast to the angelic outfit she had been wearing.

“You didn’t have to help me. But I’m thankful you did.” She tried again, swallowing her pride… only to be shot down again.

“Yeah, well it won’t happen again. I shouldn’t have done that. If someone had seen me, my reputation would be squashed. No more coming to my club. Do you understand?” His tone biting and a bit like he was speaking to a naughty child.

Oh, he wanted to gouge his own eyes out when she hugged her arms around herself, physically seeing her confidence in front of him depleting.

Y/N didn’t get why it hurt. He was a demon and they always were mean. This Harry’s dismissed and rude words felt so much more personal though. So much more…. Biting. Aching. She felt like a kicked puppy and honestly? Looked like one.

When he heard the little sniffle again his stomach rolled like he was going to be sick, and his mouth dropped open to do something. Apologize maybe? He didn’t know. It was cut off with a nod and a fizz as she opened the door magically.

“Kay. I won’t bother you again, Harry.” She said quietly, heels clicking as she rushed out of the penthouse, dark hardwood he focus until she used her power to open the door again.

Then she was gone.

Why did they both feel empty??

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[secretbangtnn]

Love Lies | kth I

➤ summary : You never had it easy. From the first day of your life it seemed like fate was a big joke, making every effort to make you feel miserable. Shortly after taking the first step into adulthood, you are convinced that childhood doom follows you like a shadow. On the verge of being broke without any help, you take your friends advice and try your hand in industry you have no idea about.

➤ genre : CEO! au, prostitution but not really au, strangers to enemies to lovers, Smut, fluff, angst

➤ pairing : Taehyung x reader ft. Jimin (This chapter Jimin x reader)

➤ ratings : 18+ NSFW

➤words : 10k

➤ warnings : swearing, prostitution, sex for money, mentions of mental health, toxic household, mentions of violence, explicit sexual content, mxm, fxm, family problems, dishearitance, toxic relationship, Taehyung is bad at feelings, reader is lost, soft boy jimin, sexy hot taehyung (couse that will need a warning) - more to be added

notes ~

I finally did it! I'm so sorry for the wait and how the chapter came out - it's a little more messy than I predicted but i wanted to give you something before the big story. I promise the next chapter is going to start with the big action and main plot and finally with Taehyung. I really hope for some feedback, I worked hard for it to be done before the next week and even though it may seem boring i really hope it’s okay.

taglist:

@jinssexytoe @danyxthirstae01 @alwaysasadaesthetic @luvmingyu @chimincubus @minshookie29

Underneath the sunrise

Show me where your love lies

Relationships that are based on lies never last long and everyone who found themselves in artificial feelings, knows of the truth of those words. Although that sweet sinful lie sometimes replaces that thing we could have never got.

You never thought about yourself as someone low, at least not that low to kneel to beg of something so materialistic like money.

You respected yourself at the same time being sure that you would fight everything alone. Just like a good fighter - you didn't need a good sword in a big war. Even once in your whole life you wouldn't have thought of stepping that low to actually work as a cleaner in old school or supermarket lady, that couldn't even use the calculator right.

How ironic, we love when inevitable doom falls on people that did not deserve it.

You were taught from the beginning, how to live, what to do, how to look, and the most important who to listen to. It's so weird when we find a character that's not extremely bad or good, not the shy mouse of the school, also not the hot rebellious cool girl with too big ego, and mouth so unbelievable that you actually start to think if you have ever met someone without such basic manners.

Fact is that you are bland, your life never yours to live, as someone recorded it with a script in their hands, and a plan for an ending and second part. It was frustrating knowing how many people never cared about you, however you could not say that you indeed did too.

Lessons were taught, those made you somehow resistant to disappointments in life. First happening in early stage, not even first year of your high school, people started to know - know about this and that, about family of yours and how privileged they would be if they had you on their side.

But you did not have a problem with it, mindset so set that you liked to think about money as a guarantee of friendship. And with this thought you let the first people use you, not minding their motive of only getting part of your prosperity.

So you believed to those days that your childhood indeed was normal.

You never tried to run from your life, you never saw yourself as a hormonal teenager in need of attention.

In the end only those who were born in respecting families, where work and pride is placed higher than blood ties, knows how upringbing really looks in such a household. Your standart always high, doing that to not need to put it higher again.

Parents instilling you dreams that were not yours, making you believe in something they always wanted. Like it was written, your whole life does not belong to you, and realization over it came in the moment when it was a little too late. Happy smiles never real, friends you swore would not leave you, disappeared within a night.

However let’s not impose that your parents were monsters, killing you on the inside with their cold demeanor or making your life miserable.

The first problem began when you had enough, when a virus in your mind told you about your own desires.

You remember this day like it was yesterday. Invisible mark on your check is still pulsating, with a wound much deeper inside screaming at you that it is still not healed.

“I want to study medicine.” Those were the exact words you first told your mother, freezing her in place and scarring inside with the power and destruction they held. She did not hold back with ignoring you, acting like the sentence was a mere passing wind, just fluffing hair in a not nice type of way. You expected that, nothing new from a shell of a person your mother has become, money and power empowering her mind, probably killing the young woman you are now, in her.

So the first step of actually making a point of how you processed to cut your family ties, were with your mother, kind of preparing you for what has to come.

Dark room, with marble accents and a woody smell that came straight to your nostrils. Mahogany desk, big enough to contain tons of papers scattered over it like some kind of nto important rubbish. You however knew better, and those innocent stock of inked pages held more value than maybe you yourself.

It was so hard to breathe in this tiny space, now feeling ever more closed up, dark and not welcoming. You tried to believe that the reason for it was not really a man sitting just before you, not minding your presence in a slighlets, but a stress and emotions on your back, you were trying to bear by yourself.

“I’m busy.” Short answer, not even directed to you - not that the man ever looked at you with those dark eyes. Predictable, exactly like you guessed. Cold feeling with a hot flush over your cheek, not knowing where the previous patience had gone.

Maybe you finally had enough. You were too tired to try to understand.

“Dad, please listen to me.” Ice cold bucket over your head, a void eyes now on you, not really expecting them to stay on you for so long, or even look up. Pupils a little blow out, stirring the dark color pallet of his eyes, similar to the tone of the bags under them. What a wrack of a man he really was, lanky hands under the suit, scribbling over something not even a minute ago, now lying lifelessly on a brownish desk.

“You really couldn't find better time for your whining? Go on, I still have a lot of work to do before I need to actually go.” Unconcern, you could even feel the unitresment oozing from him, hitting you with those eyes. They were looking at you, but at the same time it felt like they never were there. Black holes, no feelings found, gaze scary for those who never met someone so indifferent.

“I dropped out.”

“What?” Words came after some silence, piercing straight your beating heart. Hands in fist, just beside your thighs, so white that it could even be a little concerning for those looking from the side. You were nervous, even after you told yourself that this conversation was not going to be easy. Smooth information that it should be, your own life choices never discussed so openly.

“I dropped out of college”

Not a breath was heard, a heavy hand landed on the desk with a smack, knocking in the process some of the scattered pens.

“You did what?” Too calm, his voice was too calm for such information. Nerve wracking feeling once again welcomed you inside, making you take one step back. Soft material of the shirt creased under your hard grip. “It’s not the time for such a jokes Y/n”

“I’m not joking dad, I took the papers yesterday. I'm tired of wasting my time on something I never wanted.”

“Oh? But are you really? What are you going to do then? I'm getting really curious” Tone momocking you in every kind of way. You clench your teeth, an annoyed expression came over your face, just to disappear within one glance of the man.

Questions were rhetorical, laughing at your whole being in the cruelest manner. He knew about your every vulnerability, molding your persona from the beginning. So it must have been funny for him, seeing a little girl, someone he treated not entirely equally, however putting some kind of hope and dreams he himself could not reach, standing before him like a scared puppy asking for a treat.

“You yourself know the best how important those studies are for you. You prepared your whole life to go there and take my place one time, so don’t joke about it like it’s some kind of dish you are bored of eating.”

“You forced me to do it! I never wanted to take your place, study the stupid law.”

“And you decided that this is the time to suddenly realize that? Y/n from the beginning, we always gave you what you wanted, fulfilling your every wish, buying everything you wanted, and even after that you can’t be grateful. We only asked you for one thing, one thing Y/n, there is not such a thing like your dreams, there is only our family.” You wanted to laugh, those stupid exucess, only making you annoyed and wroked up. Manipulating you into believing you were selfish, that you are the problem, and you owe them right to living.

“Don’t be ridiculous father, you are not in the place to talk about family or do I need to remind you of Na-”

You heard it before you felt it. Burning feeling right in your left cheek, head on the side from the harash contact it made with the ringed hand. It was not the first time you saw or experienced such an act. Father being the man that loved to lose his temper rather fastly, hiding on the outside behind the calm demeanor and innocent smile.

Blood on your tongue, the metallic taste in your mouth like a forbidden flower you just tasted.

“You really want me to get mad today hm? “ You really wanted to nod, looking straight at him from your hair that fell after the slap. Hand on the cheek, trying to stop the pulsating ache to echo so much, however you know the best that the hot feeling is only building up and it's the only matter of time till the beautiful tones of purple show on your soft skin.

His own hands now begin viped over the handkerchief, a little blood over the white fabric, likely from the little scratches the rings were able to make.

His back to you as he went back behind the dark desk, sitting on his chair like nothing happened. And you knew, secretly that it was the end, that the conversation was done and nothing else could be said.

You closed your eyes, not even noticing you did it, realizing it after the first salty tear fell to your mouth, giving you a taste of sorrow. Head down, not in shame but in anger, with a pulsating cheek not letting you forget about the consequences your every word bears, you turned around going to the door that before somehow gave you so much hope.

“Oh and Y/n, there is no you without this family, but there is family without you. It won’t be the first time when I lose a child.”

Those exact words hunted you till this day. Rather heavy feeling, three years not long enough to make you forget, or let you accept a new life.

Loud noise of passing cars just outside the dirty window with a pounding of heart echoing in your ears. It was one of those bad days - you liked to say, those however started happening a lot of more. Breaking was never something you wanted to do, working so many jobs you could not count on your fingers, living in shitty apartments for no longer than two months just to end up on someone's couch.

That is the life you chose, the life you barely lived, everyday wishing for a miracle.

Harsh paper under your fingers, weighting your hand weirdly down - maybe it was the words that made the letter so heavy, maybe the truth you needed to face. Fact is that you do not know what to do, trying for the last months to make a living for yourself, get better pay and settle down for a longer time.

Words of your father echoing once again, making your eyes squish with the feeling. It was so hard to accept a defeat, something that you worked so hard for and for so long. You could not beg, you could not go on your knees again, and even if it was an option, imagines and memories of life in such a household keep you in the place you are now.

Head resting under your arms, shielding bright rays of sun from your eyes, long locks falling down in waves just over your pale face. You pulled them with a strength you did not know you possessed at the moment, as if it was because of them you needed to deal with all of this.

“Think Y/n, think” Mutters fell from your mouth like a mantra, supposed to make you cheer up a little. Void in your head, not ending emptiness that scares you as much as the strings of unpaid numbers on this goddamn paper.

An late hour struck on the side clock, hanging on one of the grey walls of the run down apartment you lived in. Sight itself is depressing, leaving you in wonder if maybe it is not one of the reasons for your current mood.

Who you wanted to trick.

A little knock once again echoed in the quietness of your home, reminding you of the late hour. Looking from your thick locks of hair, you sighed seeing how little time you actually got to get there. With one move, you left the scrap of paper on the side, and stood up from the ugly green couch, taking in the process bag of the crookedly hanged hook.

Fast footstep as you nearly run over one of the olders ladies living in the same flat, trying to messily wrap an apron over your waist, which is not as easy as it seemed to be earlier. Bluish fabric holding on to you with all the power, hanging a little on the too long strings, that untied themselves with each step.

You tried not to think about all those stares, looking at you as you run past them, not minding where your feets go, or if you accidentally push someone on the side. Let people think what they want, it's not like your opinion matters, and being a disgrace to your whole family disappears.

Familiar neon letters came to your sight forming the greenish title of caffe you soon found yourself in. A little bell rang as the door opened informing everyone about your presence. Calm atmosphere, everyone was busy in their own word, you loved this, a quiet place which you often found yourself admiring.

You wished that working there was not such an obligation, the only thing that let you stay in your current apartament. Rosy cheeks, and cheeky smiles as people got their morning coffee, thanking you quietly for the drink with such a pure impression, that you could not hold back the smile you gave each one of them.

“I’m so sorry for being late, I hope you didn’t need to run too much.” You said between heavy breaths, still trying to catch remaining puffs of air, head tilted to the side, hands on knees as you looked at the little blonde behind the counter.

Said boy only laughed a little, shaking his head from the embarrassment after the statement. Ringed hands cleaning some cups, quiet melody living his plump lips.

“Am I suppose to feel offended? I’m not an old man you know.” He asks, knowing that the answer will never be given. Voice on the lighter side, something you would expect from such a soft looking boy, warm and sweet to listen, and you indeed do, always keeping quiet when the boy talked about his own day to fill the quietness of your workplace.

You knew the boy was one of the things that made you feel normal, with his bright persona and angelic personality, you liked to believe he was one. He did not ask, knowing some things should stay in the dark, and you repaid him the same, being fully aware of the boy's secrets.

“Not at all. Beside we all know that it's not about you, but about who will get in trouble from your whining - and yes, it would be me. “ You say, patting his back on the way to the other side. Confused gaze now on you, as you smirk at the questioning boy waiting for some kind of elaboration, only getting from you another cup to wipe.

“Should i remind you of a certain person, which came to me with a complaint of how his favorite boy was tired - what was his name? Oh yeah Yo-”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

You laughed at the squeaky voice that came in a form of fast spoken answer, a little too fast to understand every word completely. Pretty blush came over his round cheek, soon appearing on tips of his lears, hidden by mop of blonde hair.

Not a piece of judgment in your gaze, but rather sweet caring look over the embarrassed boy next to you, trying so hard not to look bothered by your everyday teasing, that he was slowly getting accustomed to, liking how your voice gets a little lighter, your eyes light up and a pure giggle leaves your mouth.

Yeah he definitely could live with it if it means he can see the sparkle pops out in the dark of your pupils.

Cup in his hands a little heavy with the next thought that came over him. Melody coming with the pleasant wind of the early monday morning, his eyes however discreetly gazing over your figure. He knew when the times were worse, when your collarbones stood out more, welcoming i'm from the collar of an old shirt, you probably needed to wash by hands, and he hated that even if he tried to explain it, not care so much, he simply could not stop the worry seeking of him.

You were a sweetheart, never judging him, understanding his reason even after he told you about the second job he needed to take. You simply smiled, wishing him all good, and getting excited about dreams that were not your own, laughing with him and talking about his future plans as if you had place in them.

Thanks were never enough to pay off all the hardship you helped with. He respected you, admired so many things about you, how you don’t need a reason to give an arm to cry on, always taking a piece of burden on your own shoulders, whispering promises and talking about a better future that comes with hardships.

“Don’t be so embarrassed~ “ You sing to his ear when you pass him, going over to the coffee machine, big bag of beans in your hands. “I dare to say I got a little jealous when I saw him for the first time.”

“Gosh I hate you sometimes.” He whines, throwing his head back, closing his eyes to remain calm. Smile now on your lips, little giggles leaving your busy persona, trying not to be too loud in such an early hour.

An enjoyable silence came over once again, only sounds of working machines and knocks of cups, that were cleaned and wiped, mind automatically getting fuzzy from the fresh brew of coffees and autumn wind. Not a person in a shop, being still a little too early to welcome customers or get a morning drink, subtle music playing a little louder at those times filling little breaks of silence.

So how surprising it was, when those little giggles tickled your own ears suddenly and strong arms, clothed in white shirt, sneaked around your waist, making you lose the focus on filling the cup with beans. Blonde hair over your cheek, stroking the soft skin with a funny feeling, only pushing you to squirt more.

“You know if you liked him so much, you could have just said. I would think of something.” He whispers mockingly, smacking his lips in the end. Shiver comes with his next move, hands on your hips, keeping them from stirring so much, hot and on the smaller side however still noticeably bigger than your own. “Sadly I do not share my clients.”

With those words, he quickly detaches himself, hitting your bum with a cheeky smile that you soon could see right before you as the boy grabs one of the fresh croissants, putting the whole thing into his mouth.

“It must be big for you to say that.” You laugh, looking at the choking boy with the same expression he was giving you not even a minute ago.

“That was totally inappropriate.” Says blonde, chugging a glass of water you gave him out of pity.

“Now, don’t play an innocent Jimin, I see how you look at that one girl that comes here every friday. Didn’t you even memorize her order - gosh i heard you repeating it so many times that I know it myself.”

“Okay, okay maybe you are right, but it doesn’t mean you can judge me.”

“Would I ever?” A dramatic sight from the boy's accusations leaves your lips, you touch your heart looking at him with the most hurt eyes you could manage to do, a little tear spins in your eye. Mouth full of baked goodie, he laughs showing a little of non eaten food, with a proud expression to it. Your own smile now noticeable on face, happy feeling over your whole being, loving how this short amount of time with the bubbly boy let you forget about some problems. You take one of the left rags of the counter and throw it at his face, hoping to get him to work. “Stop eating! We are opening soon and I don't want to listen to how the coffee machines should be ready before the first client, because someone didn’t want to move his ass.”

“Just say you don’t want to deal with that old raisin.”

Nobody did, but Jimin had some superpower you sadly did not possess, and could at least shut the old businessman that somehow always comes first. Coming back to an earlier job, you pour black beans in the measuring cup, trying not to let the weight of the bag swoop you.

Place once again in a nice atmosphere, Jimin singing somewhere in the back, probably preparing syrups and goodies, sorting eveyrything on the displae plate. You two fell in a pleasant rhythm, doing your jobs like robots, knowing where things should go, and how not to disturb each other in the middle of action.

And it was something you really enjoyed, that piece and order, making you feel secure at least in such a place. Like you had power over your own life, your hands did what you wanted, your mind clear with tasks to be done.

Peace.

You both knew that this place was a mere act in the theatre of lies, you played in. Cafe such like that one, a happy place for two broke students, that tried everything in their power to make a living, pursue dreams so far away, still hoping that they are not going to disappear with all the hardships.

You could just drown in this lie of beauty picture you painted yourself, pretending your lifes do not look as bad, and even though you did not know the boy so well, you could tell from his eyes that he indeed is a player in the same game as you.

The truth being you did not know each other, you were not close. You knew about his job, about his own problems - some of them left unsaid, but who could you judge when you acted exactly the same.

Understanding from each other was enough.

However the boy tried to help you, offering sum of money or better paid jobs in times when you were too tired to hide it, those although - he learned after some time, never were an option for you.

And so with the next passing wind, the first client came welcoming you with kind of a grumpy smile, wishing for you to just make him the coffee. It was as always, a busy morning on the first day of the week, that always seems a little more crowded than any other, with business men and middle aged women trying to get over their morning sickness as fast as possible.

You saw the girl you talked about some minutes ago, looking from her covering eyes bangs, squashed from pink beanie on her head, nevertheless still laid perfectly. A little wave, hand hid under the panda mittens she liked to wear every other day the temperature goes down.

You smiled at the interaction, the excited smile on Jimin's face he tried so hard to hide, not doing a good job with his nearly nonexistent eyes that disappeared just because of it. She was pretty, a student in a university you both go to, however you were not sure what exactly she was majoring in.

Her funky style makes you take a shot at something related to fashion, but that might be completely wrong and the girl could just like wearing such bright clothes.

“Love the mittens, they look nearly as cute as you.” You heard, looking back from your busy hands, to gaze at the flustered pair. Adorable giggle soon leaves her mouth, covering lips with the said gloves as her own eyes disappear from weirdly similar eyesmile.

Jimin was a sweetheart, someone who deserved a happy future. And so you did everything to make that happen, wishing him the best and trying to help him even if it means your own happiness goes on a second plan.

“I'm sorry but could I order.” Coming back to your own job, you look up immediately, catching the gaze of one of the clients you did not recognize.

“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry for the wait. What can I get you?”

----

A loud noise of a closing locker echoes in a quiet room in the back of the coffee shops. Night air chilling from the open window you opened some minutes ago, to get rid of a smell so many people.

The calm of the room soothing your buzzing nerves and shaking hands, that always seems to do it after a hard day of work. Your attention now somewhere else as you try to take off the blue apron, laying it somewhere on the lonely bench next to you.

It was a busy day, helping you forget about what waits for you at home, and what person will probably visit you in the meantime. You didn’t like those times, the quiet after such hard working hours, leaving you with anxious thoughts rotating around the same problems you tried so hard to run away from.

So you tried once again, silence your mind with your hands, taking every job you could, now wiping lockers that never needed to be wiped before. The same rug from before in your hands, sliding over an uneven surface.

“Y/n?” You jumped from the sudden voice, swearing that Jimin was in the other room just a second ago. Turning around, you try to look unbothered, clenching the old rug in your hands with such interest. A little noise comes from your mouth, hum to let him know you are aware of his presence.

“Everything alright?” He asks a little unsure of the question, looking at you from the other side of the room, close to the door connected to the main room.

“Yeah, why would there not be?

“You were cleaning the lockers like not even a minute ago.” He says without thinking. Voice somehow suspicious, full of hidden concern as his suspicions from before seem to be true. You were not alright, and Jimin knows exactly what it may be. “If you need hel-”

“I'm alright! I'm really alright there is no need to worry, I'm just stressed because med major is harder than I thought.” The sigh is enough to let you know that he is not buying it.

Hard steps as he comes closer, opening his own locker situated right next to you, eyes glazing back at you from his clothes is started to put back. Tight lipped smiles is the only thing you are capable of answering with, catching his dark stare for a second.

“Im worried, and I know what you want to say, but I can’t help it. You are always the one that takes my burden so why can I not do the same?” He closes the locker with too much strength, making you jump again from the loud noise.

“It’s different.”

“How is it different? You help me with everything, you let me cry, you let me crash at your apartment when my parents try to make a mess again, so what’s the problem with me?! You don’t even want to tell me what's wrong dammit.” His eyes glassy from all the emotions, hands in a fist as if he tried to hold himself back. He turned completely to you, cornering you to the lockers behind, not letting you leave this time.

“Is it because of my work? Are you ashamed to take dirty money from someone who can’t earn normally and needs to sell themself. Is it this?! Tell me Y/n, I’m tired of seeing you in such a state, you are my friend.”

“You know it’s not that.” You tried to argue catching his watery eyes.

“So tell me, tell what is going on.”

Your own mouth in agape, words lost somewhere in the back of your head. So many years going alone, keeping everything to yourself shows itself with such a hestation of saying easy words that could let you breathe easier at night.

But would they really?

Giving someone your own burden was something you were taught as a shame. Problems should stay in family, and even there your father always told you to fight them alone.

“I - “ Eyes hopeful, looking at you with new found desperation. Big and different from the ones he was giving the sweet girl with panda mittens, and that alone made you sick knowing that the sparkle left because of you. “I’m sorry Jimin I just can’t.”

And you broke. With the remaining energy you mustered, you fell onto Jimin, him nearly not catching you on time. First tears fell, with such a power, rolling down your cheeks, wetting the soft fabric of Jimin’s shirt. You did not know why, why now you decided to just let go, sobbing so much, hoping the boy will understand that you only need someone to hold you.

And he did, wrapping his arms so securely around, letting you hide the red face in a crock of his neck. Fresh smell of flowers and perfume he always wore with a noticeable hint of coffee, you probably possesed yourself. Quiet whispers of comfort, tickling your scalp a little, hands patting your hair with care, brushing them with such a delicacy, like he secretly knew how breakable you are now.

“It’s going to be okay.” Void promise, his lips close to you kissing your forehead, with shaky hands trying so hard to gather every tear that fell down. With a little move he sat on a bench, an apron which you earlier left there dropped on the floor, a quiet thud ran in the small room, you on his lap, trying so hard to become smaller nearly molding in the bigger body of Jimin’s.

Sorry’s fly through your mouth, realizing it after Jimin's starts to rock your body. He peels your face from the safe space of his neck, wiping your running tears with both of his thumbs and trying to smile a little.

“I know it’s hard, but sometimes we need to let someone in, let them help put broken pieces together.” Eyes shining in the dim light of the room, your mouth ready to disagree quickly however quieten by his own speech. ”I know what you want to say Y/n” He starts again taking a big breath. “Being helpless doesn’t mean being weak, asking for help is not something to be ashamed of. Being strong however - is letting someone in, taking they hand and standing up with them - you have to have courage to do it, and I know you do to - but whoever put such a toxic mindset in you, keeps you from it and you need to realize that there is no longer people who will judge you for falling down a litte.”

Eyes falling down, sore from all the crying that has no plans to stop. You wipe the snot with your sleeve as well as wet cheeks, laughing a little after it, sniffles in the room as you try to calm yourself a little.

Jimins gaze still at you, now softer still brushing your hair in a calming manner with the second hand drawing circles on the side of your waist. It was shameful, hearing such words, knowing deep down they were true, but too prideful to agree with them.

“Gosh If I knew you cry like that, I would take a bucket with me. I wouldn’t need to pay water bills for like two months with it. “ He laughs as you smack him with your hand. Smile on your face, you tilt your head leaning on his arm with all the weight, a small sigh leaves your mouth. Smell of coffee now is more prominent with his own perfume, which he wears everyday, pushing your mind into own fuzzy feeling. “You know that I will always be there for you, right?”

A silent nod is enough, not too much to say after such an outbreak from your side still buzzing inside you. You know it was true, with how much you both came through together, it would be stupid to leave someone who become somehow a safe heaven.

“What are you going to do now? You won’t take any money, I guess you either are not going to be too willing to crash in my apartment.” Your head immediately shots up, eyes searching those of Jimin. A look of confusion cross your face for a second, with the words repeating in your mind once again. His face however is still serious, not leaving your surprised gaze.

“W-what how do you kno -”

“Your landlord called, I didn’t want to disturb you on your break - by the way I saw you sleeping you are not as sneaky as you think.” He interrupts you in the middle of talking, brushing his hair.

You frown, looking in disbelief at the boy, a little upset from the news. Touching your phone was okay, but taking a call and not saying anything, it just fell wrong.

“So why were you trying so hard to force me to talk?” The questions came a little more aggressive than intended, but who could you blame when your private life was exposed so easily. Truth being that you felt not as angry as embarrassed, never sharing such information before leaving them in the dark.

“I know you would be angry when I tell you about the phone - which I was right about.” He pouts looking somewhere in shame, like a child that was caught with sneaking sweets.

“But it doesn’t matter, what are you going to do without help? It’s not like our boss will gave you a rise from nothing, and do not even think about starting another job - we have studies, it would be plain stupid unless you ask your family for help, you never mentioned them but they would understand right?.”

“They sure would.” You sneer, standing up from the comfort of his lap. Your smile turned down on the mention of those people, it's not like you want to have something going on with them, it would be asking satan for help and that always comes with a price. “Thanks for everything Jimin, but I will be alright.” You add walking back to the hatstand where your hoodie hangs, grabbing it with your free hand, second one carrying the bag. Jimin's eyes follow you, surprised by the sudden movement and innocently big, like he waited for some better explanations - which he won’t get.

“B-but wait! Where are you going, don’t leave me like that!” You heard the shouts, desperate movements in the previous room meaning the boy tried to catch up, however you were long ago outside the cute coffee shop, starting the journey to your quiet apartment. Maybe it was mean, and maybe Jimin was too good to be treated like this, but your own mood was now too fragile to stay in the same room as the insistent boy.

Autumn wind welcoming you once again, cold weather sneaking inside your clothes, the light hoodie not doing any justice with such temperature - still it was the only thing you owned with better quality. Head full of thoughts a little overcrowded with a starting headache, not letting you walk in a peace you somehow needed just now.

Walk to your house - at least the recent one, was not one of the long one, rather passing as a nice stroll. And even though your shifts ended in night hours, the quiet and calm way never made you feel scared of any sudden dangers awaiting you on Seoul's streets. It was a nice neighborhood, one where families that were a little lower than middle class tried to make a living, keeping their kids in a safe environment. Happy smiles and laughs welcoming you sometimes in the morning, kids rushing to their own school, greeting you even after those months you stayed there, only making you nostalgic at the thought of leaving such a safe haven.

So it was more than surprising when a quick footstep rang in your ears, soon nearing you even faster. Your beating heart now rapidly knocks in your chest, as your eyes try to search for the reason for those sounds.

You didn’t need to search for loong, soon hearing the screech of a voice not so far from you. “Y/n! Wait for me!” It was even worse when the little man started to dramatically draw his hands to touch, however your concern only lay in the thought of waking up the whole neighborhood. Eyes slitted, an annoyed expression crossing your face at the sight of the panting boy, soon stopping before you, not without tripping and nearly taking you with him. “You… really want to kill me.”

Heavy breath hitting your face, his voice strained and tired from the miles he needed to run to catch up to you. You however were more than a little shocked - yes Jimin is stubborn, and yes he is the person to run after someone just because the said person lost a penny, but his appearance here was different. It was crossing the invisible line you both draw, accepting each other's bubble of comfort.

So the question still stayed, your face hard with a thundering gaze waiting for the boy to calm a bit.

“Why did you suddenly leave?” Seriousness leaked out from his tone, however the way his eyes scrunched only meant that he indeed felt a little hurt from your previous action. And you don’t even wonder why, knowing how your choices could wound the innocent boy. “Is it about your family? If its a soft topic we can never talk about it ag-”

“You want me to walk away again?” His eyes got bigger at your cold tone, his foot taking a step back. Your family, the topic you did not want to bring up today, explaining the harsh demeanor you suddenly took. Eyes however softened as fast as they met the boy’s hurted ones, a gulp of remorse sliding down your throat. “Look - I appreciate your help but I don’t need a person to be helpless with.” You took a step forward placing your hands on the boy's arm, squeezing it in reassurement. Looking him straight into eyes a sight left your mouth soon forming in a little awkward smile - the only one you could force yourself into. “You helped me enough, there is nothing else you can do, It’s not your battle to fight you have your own problems and asking you to take mine would be cruel.”

And how awful it was to turn back leaving him again, you did just that, giving him the last pat with a smile. His own mouth opening and closing, agape from the schock you probably left him. And you were sure that this time he will let it go, your words full of coldness not leaving room for arguments.

“But what if I do?” His voice stopped you in the middle of the step, freezing your form with a new squeeze in stomach. You did want to hope for nothing, feeling how your eyes got bigger in surprise, being so close to turning back to face the blonde boy. “What if I can do something?”

“Jimin we are over it - I won’t take any of your mo-”

“I didn’t mean that. I’m not that stupid to not understand first hundret times you made it clear.”” You turn at his clear voice, full of seriousness and unsaid promises. New thoughts fell over your messy mind, Jimin’s voice still ringing in your ears as well as the hot gaze he kept on you, fixated on your weirdly sluggish posture. You were more than confused, his help however not new for you, the sudden change of demeanor was like a bucket of cold water maybe pushing you into admitting that the boy indeed had some kind of solution. “Please try to listen to me first and please try to be open minded.” He adds taking a big breath making him close his eyes for a second, only to stare at you even more firmly, nearly hiding his shaky hands. A silent nod from you lighted once again the enduring fire of his eyes.

Now you were even more curious.

“What if I get you a client?” Innocent question, firstly confusing you even more with the weird words, the realization came with your mouth opening a look of disbelief crossing your eyes for a second even if you tried to remind yourself that you situation it's not the one to be judgy.

“You do-”

“Let me finish, please?” And you could not find the power in yourself to not give in. Looking straight into his gaze you closed your mouth, still hanging from the previous schock you experienced. “I was in the same place as you some years ago, a broke student without any help or hope - and I know what you want to say, but it's not as bad as it seems. You don’t even know how much I wish that at that time I had better option, but there was none and probably won’t be if I still want to chase my dreams The job is really not that bad, people don’t know, they do not need to know - even if they wanted the community of them would not allow it cause they want only that - discretion.”

You winced, the cold brushing your cheeks even more from the chill night, moon being your only source of light shining at boy’s figure like in some kind of movie. And to be completely honest, you indeed feel like in some kind of drama, emotions oozing from both of you in waves crashing in the middle with a tension to it. You didn’t want to seem rude, your face trying to stay some kind of neutral, however you knew that Jimin saw the first pull you unconsciously did, decided to let it slip instead looking at you with even more solemnity.

Yeah you knew about his past, history he one time told you in the middle of breakdown, then seemingly crazy and full of hardship, now you started to see yourself in the boy, his place now taken by you in the most awful way.

“It’s really not that bad Y/n” He whispers, voice full of softness you were thankful about. You felt breakable, the thought of actually doing it scaring you with how probable it really is. “I’m so sorry I can't do more, but it’s the only way I can help.”

You didn’t even realize when he came so close, touching your arm with his little bigger hands clenching it. Your eyes squeezed as your hands fell to your sides lifelessly, emotions now once again leaving you a little too suddenly, the grip you always had on your life slipping from your grasp with a gasp. It was hard, facing something you worked so long for only to ruin it because of such a thing as money. It was so funny, your own younger self laughing at you probably, telling you how your choices led you to that state.

“It’s really the end huh?” You didn’t need to look to know about the sad gaze he momentarily gave you. Arm sneaking around your shoulders, your posture seemingly smaller than normally, bringing you to the warm body of the blonde boy. Not a word said, only the silence being louder than aggressive shouting.

There was no need for a better explanation, your mind was already processing the idea of selling yourself to someone, and how shocking it could be that it never crossed your mind before. You can’t say the job disgusted you, you can't say it did not leave you with a sour taste on your tongue, like something is wrong with the image of you in such an environment again.

Again.

Well that was something that did not sit right with you, running away your whole life from it, now going back to the cave of a tiger - conscious suicade.

Face plastered on the surface of the brown coat, fluffy fabric brushing your face with every breath he took. The gesture leaves you with a heavy heart, not understanding why Jimin wanted to help you so much. Was it an obligation? Did he feel like he owed you something?

You just couldn't grasp the idea why, why was he so insistent, it’s only you in the end, a friend from the same coffee shop he worked in, someone who is not important in his life, someone who he will leave when the time comes. So why?

And maybe with the next gust of wind, a quiet whisper in your ear you realized deep down, that he was the first person in your life which genuinely cared for you. However the musky scent and heavy thoughts still repeated the same question, but you knew somewhere in your mind that it’s only a matter of time when the quiet suggestion will be proven.

“It’s getting late. You should go home.” A silent nod, your head still leaning on his shoulders, too tired to move. His hands petting your hair, a quiet hum leaving his mouth while he did it, melody not familiar, dancing in the silence of the night. You sighted taking one step back, immediately feeling a cold breeze hitting you, the source of heat now gone, making you shiver in the lighter clothes. Little smile screeching on your lips after you saw his worried gaze, sitting on your figure not planning to move.

“You too.” Sticking your hands into the big pocket of your hoodie, you turned your head in the way he came nodding. None of you moved, gaze met in the middle as you tried to not show how cold you really wera, body shaking in unnatural ways wanting to move for some kind of warm up.

He did not smile, even after your own stretched into a larger one, you decided not to pry and just turn around with a silent wave, head ahead of you eyes looking in the dark depths of the street where you lived. He knew you were not alright, gaze piercing you through every layer you tried to put in a situation like this, a copy mechanism you were not that proud of. And so with the head lowered you took the first step away not minding the still lingering stare on your shoulders.

The main worry now being the cold weather and little clothes that shielded you from it, the idea of the whole conversation put somewhere on the side.

However, he and you were pretty well aware of what is going to happen the next day.

In the end it's you who soon is not even going to possess own body.

----

Sleepless nights were not new, the feeling of tiredness you could not just wipe with the piece of the fabric a familiar one, the eyes trying to stay focused on things even though they were so hard to close themself for some sweet time, just to be forcefully open. Two words were enough for you to not hide the utter ache, you so perfectly masked in the middle of the coldest night.

And so maybe it was the cold keeping you awake in the dark, the blanket not enough to warm up your lifeless limbs, or maybe the lingering touches of the blonde boy that stayed even after so many afters after the whole conversation.

You felt weak, blinking in the grey room watching the wall like it would show something incredible, the scratches on it similar to the one you did when the stress was too much, decorating pieces of your skin like an art. The night was a big blur, hours now looking at the nonexisting stuff passed with a blink of an eye only to put you in another of the memories.

Blonde hair somewhere there scrolled in the side of your mind. Oh yeah, the said boy came the next day, look on his face too hard to forget as the next wall you built was just ruined.

He looked at you from behind his eyelashes with eyes dimmed with a sort of fog. Silence being the only comfort in the moment - early morning helping with it. He knew that this time the situation did not have many options, not any without any loss.

However he came, with a mind to let you help with thinking of any other ideas to help you, the conversation from the other night forgotten after he stepped in the gloomy apartament. And it doesn’t surprise you, the look you probably carried spoke for himself.

In his hands soon layed inconspicuously looking scrap of paper, tempting with his appearance like the most loucioust sin. He read it with squinted eyes, not needing a lot of time to find out what exactly the letter applied to.

What surprised him after such information is, how really the girl hid behind such an innocent facade, the new wave of respect crashed on him with the thought how strong you really are to not ask for help. The human thing was to linger, searching for attention so long to have someone finally do everything for us.

He had money, he had it so much that he could easily help her for next month, but he knew how every proposition like that would end up.

In the end they were really similar.

“Maybe there is another way.” He cut the silence, after a while regretting the action. Eyes met somewhere in the middle and both of their gaze was meaningful enough to answer his void of hope. “Have you tried to talk with the flat owner?”

Grimace on your face once again was enough, you shook your head remembering not the best meeting with the older man. “Many times. The guy is purely business oriented, he doesn’t care about your private life but if you pay everything - which as you can see I have a problem with.”

“I know that it’s a hard topic, but what about your family. There needs to be at least one person.” You looked down, carpet under your feets still fluffy and soft under your feet, the silence embracing you both. Jimin awkwardly scratched his arm, biting his lips in the process, the topic one again making your mood even worse. “Im sorr-”

“There is no need, it doesn’t matter anyway. My family is off limits when it comes to those types of things.” You cut him off, looking from the side at the little embarrassed boy. A sigh leaves your mouth as you lean on to your old couch, ruffling your hair after. “Jimin there is really no other way. Your option is the only thing I can do, even if the idea scares me.”

He looked at you with a small smile, the memories from his past coming back to him, when it was him who was sitting at your place, maybe with a different situation, but the fear in the eyes remained the same. He sat next to you, hand catching yours latching fingers with yours, as if that small gesture was supposed to pass everything.

And maybe it was like that, however how sweet and calming the motion wouldn’t be, nothing has been solved, and your decision it's going to change your life completely.

“You start to accept it with time.” He whispers tightening the grip on your head, the sentence seemingly had a bit more to the story. You guessed he tried not only to convince you both himself too.

Idea still fresh in your mind, hard to process it actually is going to happen, eyes meeting once again with the dark ones of the boy, millions of heistations flowing in the circle of your pupils.

“What If I don’t want to accept it? Jimin, I'm going to sell myself like some kind of animal.” You started, soon seeing how every word pierced the boy, a hurt crossing his face for a while. However he himself knew how his job was not something to brag about, something that should be kept to yourself.

“First - you are not going to be a prostitute, it’s their job. Second - you are not selling yourself, your body maybe, your time - yes. This whole messed up business, which no one truly understands, it's not only based on pleasure and successful bargain. The people you are going to provide services will require more, however you too will be able to demand - and that’s the difference.” He instinctively stood up, turning his back to you to hide his face for you.

You decided not to question that, the topic probably being equally hard for him. Following his figure, you listened to every word which could calm your buzzing nerves.

“Mone-” You started trying to guess about the demand he was talking about. The cash suggests itself in your mind. The boy quickly turned back, dark eyes catching your breath in the middle.

“Respect.” He finished, taking an earlier abandoned cup of tea to his hand. You were confused, your gaze spoke for himself, the utter questions building with every quiet minute he left you with. “Do you know why so few people are able to survive in such a business, or why so few people know about it?” He asked knowing fully he won't get any answer from you. He sighted brushing his blonde hair back, a little oliy from the last day of work, he came to the other side of the room sitting on one of the smaller tables just before you.

“You will need to play a role, you will become an actress in real life without the power to question your own character. People that are directors in fact are going to be your clients, giving you the script you will need to act on. In the beginning it’s going to be hard, but with time you will understand that you can either love it or you are someone who is not suitable for such a job.”

So many questions, which only bundled up with the said words. A weird twinge in your heart, forcing you to stop thinking about it like a sweet temptation, however the beautiful words he wrapped everything with stronger. The idea seems so easy, so free and so good, too good to be true.

You looked at him, the tiredness hitting you suddenly but so many not arranged issues kept you on your toes, so with the remaining power you sighed rubbing your eyes. You decided, your last way out.

“How i'm even going to start?” The question filled him with a relife, not understanding exactly why, the thought of having someone close in the same job loaded him with unanswered happiness. He gazed back, the look making you sit more comfortable forcing your attention directly at him.

“The clients are mostly the people you least expect to. Although they are not people which can afford a whore - lame millionaires or self-proclaimed gangsters. Don’t get me wrong but if they were them they could have just bought the random first person that is willing to do everything they want, for them however the most important is discretion and loyalty.” He started, stopping for a while to take out his phone and quickly search something on it.

With one move he showed you a picture of a man, you strangely knew. Black hair, similar to the blackness of the sky so different from the boy sitting just before you and a beautiful porcelain looking skin. He looked proud, even as a imagine the frozen photo oozing of confidence and power.

You knew those people pretty well, a little too well. Too proud for their own good and too proud to admit their wrongs, making money in such a way to not get attention if they are dirty or not. Familiar contempt towards others. You tried so hard to run away just from people like that, you hoped the clients Jimin was talking about are just the little CEO’s, not that important or dangerous.

And how ironic it was that you yourself are going to willingly put yourself in such a toxic environment again, people that are more influential than politicians and authorities. Next question popping on the side, how the blonde boy survived there without any knowledge.

“I see you can guess about who i’m talking about, and It’s not your first contact with them, right?” He started, brushing his hair once again, a habit you noticed. He needed to admit that your expression put him in uneasiness, look on your face nearly scared like a child that watched horror for the first time. He didn’t want to annoy the topic, leaving it in the air with the restless tension, instead he closed his phone hiding it back into his pocket.

His eyes still on you, your mind somewhere else as the quietness of the room started to spin around. The unanswered question lingered on your tongue, kept in the end of your mouth like some kind of secret. And as you thought it’s the end, the little ping came from the pocket he put his phone into.

“Well, I don’t know If you are interested but there is someone who is willing meet.”

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.