#this hack made my hair so healthy!! the hack was staying as far away from tiktok as possible!!!
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onesaltysir · 10 months ago
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Listen I hate the tiktok kids so so much, probably more than all of you do, but honestly?? They're in a world where they can't say killed or even hospital. Of course they're not gonna be able to function in an environment where people not only freely say things like fuck or sex or faggot or slut but also embrace these words.
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onesaltysir · 2 years ago
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WHICH ONE OF YOU SAID IT WOULD HAVE A NEGATIVE EFFECT IF YOU DELETED IT-
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manjiroscum · 2 years ago
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JASMINES
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Character/s: haitani brothers
Warnings: f!reader, hints of sex, stepcest, fluff, bonten does not exist in this timeline, mature language, all characters are above 18+ as always, poly relationship, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.
Note: this is for bby aly @riszu 🥺💕 get well soon bby
Synopsis: Taking care of their sick little step-sister is what good brothers do.
WC: 1k
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Rain, sunny, pouring rain, and another hot day was an assurance for one to feel unwell due to the constant change of the weather. Believing yourself to be healthy enough to avoid getting the usual colds that were going door to door in the neighborhood, you begrudgingly found yourself lying in bed, sick. Tissues up your runny nose that were drenched with snot that resembled the used condoms sitting in the bin next to your messy desk. A cool patch on your sweaty forehead that was far more uncomfortable than the aftermath of last night’s illicit activities. The regular agenda of heading to the university went down the drain since even the mere thought of making a letter of absence was making your head spin faster than your step-brothers could switch holes. It cemented your fate in staying in bed until you felt better.
Fuck my life.
Thinking back whether you caught the illness during the commute to work, the bedroom door slowly swung open to reveal a mop of purple hued hair cut short, still damp as a towel was hanging loosely on Ran’s shoulder while his own violet irises assessed your exhausted form. The shirt he wore was still unbuttoned while the tie he chose for today sat in his hands.
“You okay?”
“Does it look like I’m fucking okay to you?” you snapped before wincing at how your voice croaked in the end. Throat dry and itchy. Upon realization that you used a harsh tone to address your concerned step-brother, you sighed. “J-just leave me alone and go. No need to feel sorry for me.”
Already used to your cranky self whenever you were sick or your monthly visitor had arrived, your Ran lightly laughed as he made his way closer, sitting on the edge. His hand was cold against your head, touch so soothing that you were almost lulled back to sleep.
“Now why on earth would I leave my darling sister alone while she’s sick, mhm?” Ran softly chuckled, pulling his hand back and crossing his arms across his chest. Those limpid eyes raking your pathetic form. Silently deciding whether he should go to work or stay behind to take care of you. “At least you’re not acting stupid like Rin who still went to class when he could barely stand and was hacking his chest.”
“Fucking heard that, ‘ya know,” Rindou huffed, making his presence known. The ends of his lilac hair tied back while his bangs were clipped back. The furrow of his brows lessened at the sight of you, one quick to rise in question. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s got a cold.”
“Yeah?” At the information, Rindou sighed and trudged to your bed. He ignored your protests when he had you move to make more room for his huge stature. “Then why are you rushing around? We had sex last night, she’s now sick so that means it won’t take long before we also start coughing like it’s New Years. Fuck work, I wanna lay down.” Muscled arms wound their way around you, pulling you close to Rindou’s warm chest that had you groaning. “What? Don’t want cuddles from me now, angel?”
“But Rin, it’s already hot—”
“Nonsense.” Nuzzling his chin on the spot between your neck and shoulder, Rindou’s lazy violets met Ran’s annoyed ones. They may not have spoken during the bit where you were whining at the sudden act of affection—one that you were secretly happy for—but it was evident both of them were at conflict on whether who should go out and buy medicine. Sadly for Ran, his younger brother was quick to latch onto you and he’d be heartless to pry you both away. Still, going out of the comforts of the apartment and being out in the rain did not sit well with him. But what choice does he have? “Let’s just stay in bed, yeah? Ran could go buy our medicine, won’t he?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Bending down to press a kiss onto your forehead, Ran smiled down at you. The sight of it had your heart pounding in its ribcage and making your flushed skin even more hot as if he was touching you intimately under broad daylight. “Will be back in a few, ‘kay? If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask Rin.”
One nod was all you gave, giggling at Ran side eyeing his brother prior to his exit. Rindou huffed lightly at the action then grinned at you, his left hand caressing your thigh and drawing abstract shapes on the flesh. “Sleep, angel. Don’t let me distract or prevent you from resting. I’ll just be here, ‘kay? Gonna wake you up once Ran’s back.”
Relaxing in his hold, you breathe in the familiar soothing scent of fabric softener and hummed. “You sure you’ll stay at home? I know how having perfect attendance means to you…”
“Nah.” Shaking his head, Rindou’s embrace slightly tightened. “Taking care of you is a priority. Plus, Ran and I did a number on you last night that I thought you got sick because of that—this is the least we can do.”
Snorting at the statement, you stared at the window across you. Raindrops on the glass, the sound of pitter patter a sort of lullaby to have your eyelids fluttering shut. And sleep, you did. In the protective arms of your step-brother who was better company than anyone whom you dated. Wrong it may be, but you didn’t have the strength to tackle or question your relationship with the brothers right now. Probably you never will, enjoying their presence enough not to. And really, they were good to you.
Really good.
Rindou waking you up by pressing kisses all over your face while Ran enters your room with a bouquet of jasmines was proof of that. The sweet scent of the flowers alleviated the weariness off of you momentarily. A bag filled with medicine and other essential stuff placed on the nightstand. Yes, your step-brothers indeed knew how to keep you satisfied.
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🎐taglist: @ranilingus @wakaslut @festive @marism @wakasa-wifey @zuuki @stffychn @keijisprettygirl @cryptred @tobidabio @leavemealonebutinpink @blueparadis @kamisoria @h-shibas @chloee0x0
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago
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weird, m | ksj
pairing(s): seokjin x reader
summary: Your roommate and best friend, Kim Seokjin, forgot to double-check the autofill information and shipped his package from the online sex shop with your name on it. Naturally, this ends with you tying him up and sucking his dick, and him tying you up with you riding him like a wild animal. Wait, what?
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends with benefits; crack (sorry, I can't be serious for more than two seconds when writing Seokjin); yes, reader usually fucks younger dudes XD; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics (both switches), bondage, m-receiving oral, thigh riding, cowgirl, spanking); non-idol!BTS - just two best friends fucking for sexual exploration, don't mind them
technically a prequel to love roulette, m | myg yes, this is the explanation to that mysterious package, but is it really an explanation or rather an excuse to fuck WWH, you decide
--
“Seokjin, can I ask you something?”
“Hm?”
When Kim Seokjin looked at you, it was a bit like looking into the eyes someone much younger than you even though he wasn’t. He had that youth about him, the ‘here’s-to-never-growing-up’ sparkle in his large brown eyes, complete with parted lips in a small ‘o’ and, alright, yes, his Nintendo Switch in his hands.
“A long time ago, I asked you which way you think you lean, more dominant or more submissive, no?”
His handsome face flushed pink, slowly scooting away from you.
“Er… yeah, I remember…”
“What?”
“Huh?”
You poked him and he squeaked, slapping a hand over his side even though he was wearing a brown sweatshirt. Seokjin was always cold, even during the summer.
Your best friend was an odd character.
You chuckled. “Why are you being so awkward? I thought we were over this phase.”
Well, he should be. You had known Seokjin since elementary school and seen him, er, date was a strong word for what you both were doing in middle and high school, more like being bumbling messes and walking in on each other bonking classmates, but, hey, what mattered is that you both got better at it over the years.
It being sex.
Not romance.
You both still had only sketchy ideas about what romance was supposed to be.
“We are,” your best friend coughed, clearing his throat for absolutely no reason. “We are, I just…”
“Used my name for purchasing goods from an online sex shop?”
He choked and nearly flung his Switch. You caught it, swiftly placing it on the coffee table as you procured the cardboard box from behind your back, already open, address and name circled in thick black permanent marker on the rather inconspicuous package.
“W-What, that’s absurd, why would I ever–?”
You hummed pleasantly, sweeping the box away from his lanky limbs and his flailing hands. For someone who didn’t purchase goods from an online sex shop, he sure was interested in getting the box. He tumbled into your lap, and quickly scrambled back, black hair suddenly fluffed and wild from the movement.
“Something tells me you didn’t check the autocomplete form before clicking submit.”
You saw Seokjin choke on air.
He jerked away from you and fumbled with his phone beside him. You peeked over his broad shoulder and saw that he was scrolling through his emails like a madman, except Seokjin had a bad habit of never deleting any. He had maybe fifteen thousand unread emails to sort though.
“You don’t have to check. I am sure I didn’t order red cotton bondage rope and a leather flogger.”
Seokjin whipped his head around, face redder than a tomato, looking halfway between fainting and screaming.
You raised an eyebrow. “Is it for you or a mysterious imaginary girl that you’re dating?”
Now your best friend seemed to be contemplating holding his own breath until he passed out to avoid your questioning.
“I-It’s not for me!”
“Oooh, then who? You’re not an internet hookup kind of guy though… unless she was dumb enough to put her full name as her username, then she’s too airheaded to be a catfish–”
Seokjin flapped his hands, smacking you in your pajama-covered chest, sputtering. “No one! There’s no one! I just…!”
You caught one of his wrists, raising an eyebrow.
“Just?”
He froze.
Silence.
“… Seokjin?”
You left go of his hand. It stayed there, frozen in the air.
Ah, it seemed as if his soul left his body.
Rest in peace Kim Seokjin. You were the handsomest best friend one could ask for.
You prodded him in the side again and Seokjin doubled over, trying to cover his face with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt, long legs in black sweatpants curling up as if he could cocoon himself away from the conversation.
“Seokjin, you can be interested in whatever you want,” you snickered, placing the package next to his fetal positioned body. “I simply thought it was funny that you accidentally used my name. Although I wouldn’t use that flogger on a real person, only for posing in pictures. In any case, have fun being freaky by yourself and not for some mysterious woman you refuse to tell me about.”
You stood up, about to leave and give your best friend some space. You shouldn’t go too far teasing him after all.
“What do you mean?”
You stopped, looking back. Seokjin’s large brown eyes were peeking out of his splayed fingers, shifting awkwardly when you made eye contact. He cleared his throat. He was doing that a lot for someone who seemed perfectly healthy ten minutes ago, shrieking at himself for missing the ledge in his game and dying.
It had seemed like a good time to interrupt and embarrass him so you could save your eardrums.
He coughed and pointed to the box. “About the… um… whip… thingmabob…”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”
You marched over and opened the box, making Seokjin jolt and cover his red ears instinctively, but you ignored him, pulling out the black pleather flogger you had already unwrapped from the plastic – purely from thinking it was your own package, by the way, no other reason, surely not because you were mildly curious about what your best friend was into, nope – and you slapped the short three tails into your hand, wincing.
“This kind of cheap material is too plastic-like. If you use this on bare skin and hit too hard, you’re going to cut someone and I know you’re squeamish around blood, unless you secretly have a blood fetish too and have been a really good actor all this time–”
“How do you know that?”
You blinked at his question.
“What?”
Seokjin sat up, giving you a confused pout. “Why do you know something like that?”
Now it was your turn to shift your eyes around.
“Uh…”
Er… how to tell your best friend that the younger guy you were casually fucking for the past couple of weeks was, ah, rather knowledgeable about certain things, was, um, interested in teaching, uh, yeah, teaching…
Seokjin squinted at you suspiciously. “Is it that idol trainee that was here two nights ago when I was out drinking with Hose–”
You waved your hands very quickly, tossing the flog aside carelessly and slapping your thigh to silence Seokjin and his far too invasive questions. “Look. I just don’t want you to hurt anybody on accident, okay? Your rope choice was good though. You should always use an organic material for shibari, cotton, hemp, linen if you’re rich, but you’re a cheapskate, so–”
Your best friend narrowed his eyes into slits. “How much younger is that guy compared to you again? Hm? And what was his name? Ye–”
You slapped a hand over Seokjin’s mouth, smiling sweetly and dangerously, reaching into the box and pulling out the red cotton rope.
“I know a lot of knots now and I can tie a noose just for you, Seokjinnie.”
Your best friend, rightfully so, looked terrified.
“Now. Let’s talk about you, okay? Okay.”
You removed your hand and held onto the rope.
Seokjin gulped, but then shook his head vigorously, frowning. “What did you call it?” He was already moving past your death threat. Smart man.
“Call what?”
“Shi-something?”
“Shibari? Japanese rope tying?” You lifted the cotton cord in your hand. “Is that not what this is for?”
Seokjin blinked very rapidly.
You blinked back at him. Then it dawned onto you. “The diamond-y rope patterns where they’re all tied up and stuff.”
“Ah! Yeah! That!”
“You want that done to you?”
Seokjin jerked to one side. “What? No! To someone else. Maybe. No. What?”
You slowly placed the rope on his lap and scooted away.
“Uh… huh. Okay. Enjoy.”
“Wait,” he blurted.
“What?”
“CanIpracticeonyou?”
“Can you WHAT?” you echoed shrilly.
“Right, yeah, okay, never mind–”
-
“Seokjin.”
Your best friend choked on his own toothbrush and threw himself into the bathroom wall, colliding into the towel bar and howling in pain while simultaneously hacking up a lung.
“I’ve decided I am going to teach you some simple knots to prevent me from having to pick your naked ass up from the police station or hospital,” you said calmly as Seokjin half-died on the floor tangled in your mint green and his navy-blue bath towels. “And because I don’t want to have to cut some poor girl off your bedframe because you’ve blacked out running onto your door trying to find me.”
“I’ve never–” he wheezed.
“But you will if I don’t take precautions,” you cut in, grabbing your purple toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it as Seokjin attempted to collect himself off the ground. “Like that one time you ran into the window when that wasp was in the apartment.”
“That was a fucking wasp, you freaked out too!”
You started brushing your teeth. “Yeah, but I didn’t knock myself out and wake up with a fat bump on my forehead. That was you,” you gargled.
“Ack…”
“Anyway, I know a few things and I figured I would do a good deed and enlighten you.”
“Who taught you? Was it Ye–”
You jabbed Seokjin forcefully in the ribs and he immediately shut up because he choked on his toothbrush again.
-
“Why do you have scissors?”
“For cutting the rope.”
“Yeah, but why are they so big?”
“That’s what she said.”
Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”
“Cool, now I’m gonna tie you up. Give me your hands.”
You unwound the end from the bolt and frowned, nudging his knee with yours. You were both sitting on his bed, him cross legged and you on your knees because he was wearing black sweatpants and you were wearing no pants, just your usual large lavender pajama shirt with a pattern of yellow stars.
“Take off your sweatshirt. It’ll get in the way.”
“But I’m cold.”
“You won’t be because apparently this shit turns you on,” you snickered.
“Shut up, it does not. It’s the other way around,” Seokjin grumbled, yanking his chocolate brown sweatshirt over his head.
You paused.
“I thought you were more sub.”
Seokjin froze, head half-out of his sweatshirt. You waited. He didn’t move. You waited some more. He coughed and chucked the article of clothing aside, yanking his white t-shirt down and smoothing his hair, not looking at you.
You waited.
He smoothed his hair for a full two minutes.
“Um, anyway–”
You planted a hand on his knee and Seokjin tried to chop your hand away, only for you to snatch his wrist, so his other hand came up to stop you, but you wound the end of the rope around his wrist and bounced off his mattress, pinning your knees on top of his knees and making him squeak as he tumbled back into his pillows, bringing you with him. You had to jerk your head out of the way to avoid collision.
“My nuts!”
“I didn’t hit your precious nuts, you numbsku–”
Hang on.
You locked eyes with Seokjin under you, who gawked back at you, absolutely terrified.
“… You are still a sub.”
Seokjin winced. “Ugh, it’s just… I’m getting older, alright? I can change my mind…”
You could get off him. You could let it be. You totally could.
But were you going to?
No.
You straddled his abdomen and brought his hands to his chest with a big grin. Seokjin’s eyes turned into giant brown saucers. He looked ready to pass out and not from your weight because you weren’t putting much weight on him.
“W-W-What are y-you d-doing?!” he shrieked.
You rapped him in the forehead. “Teaching. Pay attention. Hands up.”
“You aren’t taking your rings off?”
He was referring to the three silver rings you wore on a daily basis – an onyx stone on your left middle finger, a goat-head shaped ring on your right thumb, and a skull with a jester hat on your right ring finger.
You raised an eyebrow. “Why do I need to take them off?”
He lifted his hands and gave you an exaggerated shrug in between your thighs. Come to think of it, Seokjin had a rather broad chest so you had to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate and hover over him.
Precarious.
“Ah, perfect.”
Your best friend yelped as you wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving the end sticking out between them, first focusing on loosely binding. He tried to break away, but you harshly squeezed his sides with your thighs, narrowing your eyes.
“Stop squirming.”
He froze at your cold tone, shifting his eyes awkwardly.
“Watch. Now.”
His eyes immediately snapped to your hands.
“Wrists together.” You nudged them so the inner parts of the wrists were touching. “A little space in the center,” you added, looping out the end of the rope. “I’m just teaching you how I learned it, there are a few ways, but the details are important so you don’t prevent loss of circulation,” you added seriously, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “So, wind it around a couple times, but don’t overlap. Four or five?”
“But I can still get out.”
You glared at him. Seokjin shut up and jammed his plush pink lips together, shaking his head rapidly as if to say, who me? I wasn’t talking!
“Turn it ninety degrees like this,” you demonstrated. “And start going perpendicular to and in between the wrists to create the binding. Line up each coil side by side. Mind the starting end here. Then…” You reached for the scissors and snipped the excess away, dropping the rope and scissors beside you on the bed. “You tie it off on the outside. I use a square knot, so this end over this end, and then retie it the opposite way. Try to break free.”
Seokjin frowned at the red rope around his wrists, twisting it this way and that, squirming underneath your legs. You put your hands on your waist triumphantly, nodding to yourself in pride. You did a good job! It looked neat and it was inescapable without tightening on any blood vessels to cause any dangerous loss of circulation.
Hang on.
Seokjin froze.
You froze.
You both looked down.
You smacked him in the cheek.
“Ow!”
“What are you looking there for?!”
“Why did you hit me? Why do you always resort to violence?!” Seokjin accused, jabbing you underneath your breasts with his bound hands. “What is going on down there?”
“Nothing! Stop moving!”
“No!”
“You–”
You closed your thighs around Seokjin’s waist and sat down on him, causing him to gasp, wind knocked out of him as his diaphragm was pushed up into his lungs, struggling with the rope between his wrists and resorting to slamming them down on the bed above his head. You growled as you towered over him. He started yelling, as he always did.
“Yah!”
You slapped your free hand over his mouth.
“Silence.”
He glared at you behind your palm, breathing hard. You sat on top of him, breathing just as hard. He was bigger, strong, yes, but not in the position of power and – being honest, after all – your best friend was never really out to fight you and win. He was more of a ‘I’m-going-to-be-stupidly-annoying-until-you-do-what-I-want’ type, which made him rather childish in some ways. You were more of the ‘I’m-gonna-beat-your-ass’ type.
In conclusion, it was a healthy friendship.
Seokjin started licking your palm and making crazy eyes at you.
Your eye twitched.
“Stop it.”
Unsurprisingly, he did not, in fact, stop it.
“I said, stop it.”
And you slid down, past the wet spot now on his t-shirt, planting your soaked panties on top of his crotch, grinding down, and, yup, Seokjin bucked and yelped, immediately stopping and seizing up as if he could hide the massive erection that you had been willing to ignore but he was being a little – nah, actually, an extra-large, supersized – shit and it was getting on your last nerve, so what better way to resolve a wordless argument (on his part, heh) then humping his hard-on?
You removed your hand and Seokjin had a brief moment to gasp your name before you slid the pads of your fingers onto his tongue, rubbing it roughly and making his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
“I told you to stop, but you aren’t listening,” you snarled.
Seokjin whimpered, brown orbs glassy, pupils blown out.
You stilled.
Hold on a second.
You had a brief epiphany where you realized you were grinding on your best friend’s dick with him tied up and you were wetter than the Yellow Sea. This wasn’t some guy you picked up at the night market that won you that sleeping Pikachu at the claw machines, only to chat him up and end up with bed with a guy who was – ack, never mind his age – anyway, this was your best friend.
Kim Seokjin.
Oh shit, I’ve gone too far.
You let go, backing up. “S… Sorry, I–”
But then Seokjin’s plush lips closed around your fingers, sucking hard and you choked slightly, feeling his hips roll and the tip of his clothed erection hit your covered clit. He was glaring at you. You gasped as his teeth gently but firmly caught your two fingers. It did hurt, but only a little. Mostly it sent a rush of rather uncomfortable and mind-boggling arousal racing from your knuckles to your core, drenching your panties further.
“Don’t stop,” he mumbled around your fingers.
Don’t stop?
DON’T STOP?
His teeth let go, panting, staring into your eyes.
“Don’t make this weird,” Seokjin muttered, shifting his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay?”
His brown eyes flickered back to you. His bound hands were still over his head, black hair flaring out of his pillows, white t-shirt messed up, still trapped between your thighs. You paused, fingers slipping out of his lips, the pads trailing on his lower lip, turning it glossy with his saliva.
Your heart was racing fast.
He furrowed his dark brows and, for the first time, his serious expression made you think that perhaps, maybe, there was a side of him down there, the other side to the coin.
“I just…” Seokjin exhaled slowly, not looking away from you. “I trust you to do this. You’re capable and knowledgeable. I know you are. Word gets around with your, er, habits with younger guys…”
You felt your cheeks heat and you scratched your head awkwardly.
“Anyway, it’s fine if you wanna… er… get off. With me. Because I’m so handsome and all.”
You were thiiiiiiis close to leaving out of sheer embarrassment that instantly dissipated at Seokjin’s sudden unexpected self-compliment. Instead, your eye twitched and you squinted in annoyance.
Seokjin coughed, ears singeing bright red. “Unless you can’t, of course. Because it’s easy to fall in love with me, and that would be very bad considering I don’t want to marry you–”
“I don’t want to marry you either,” you snapped. “You’re ugly.”
Seokjin gasped dramatically, highly offended. “How dare you–!”
He abruptly sat up and you twisted back, only for his arms to swing over your head and sandwich you between his tied wrists and his chest, ramming you back onto his lap and his hard dick. You hissed and bit down your moan, not willing to admit it was mildly turning you on, because of course neither you or Seokjin hated each other – only in that classic way best friends hate and love each other at the same time – and, yeah, sure, you could admit Seokjin was handsome and cute and fun to be around, but he wasn’t the one, not that you knew what the one was supposed to feel like or knew if you would ever feel such an intense, romantic love, but you had this strange idea that the one for you would be someone who could understand you on a different level, and you didn’t have that with Seokjin even if you did talk all the time. You were quite sure the feeling was mutual and now, looking into his brown eyes with a scowl, you saw that the feeling was indeed mutual.
Also, Seokjin was an immature shithead.
A loveable, worldwide handsome, immature shithead. Redeemable.
Still.
You were horny.
And Seokjin was horny.
You weren’t going to date Seokjin ever, but your best friend was hot as hell and you could definitely bang him without any regrets.
“Let’s fuck,” he breathed into your face.
You raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t make it weird.”
Don’t make it weird, yeah, okaaay dude–
Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when Seokjin kissed you.
His forearms closed in behind your back and he pressed his bound wrists into your shoulder blades, pushing you into his solid chest and his embrace, taking your breath away. He always had good hugs, even if they were just to comfort you when your favorite flavor of ice lollys stopped being stocked at your local grocery store – still tragic to this day – and even when he was clinging onto you like a howling monkey because a cockroach was in the bathroom and he was screaming at you to kill it and nearly blowing out your eardrums, even then…
Now.
You closed your legs in around his hips and rolled your crotch into him, suddenly kissing him back.
He gasped into your mouth, your eyes half-opening, him gazing back at you, long lashes and dark eyebrows and glowing tan skin, holy shit, your best friend was handsome as fuck, why did other men even try when Kim Seokjin existed?
“Are you falling in love with me because I’m so handsome?” Seokjin teased, nipping at your lower lip.
Your eye twitched. Oh, yes, that’s right, because you’re annoying.
You shoved him and he yelped, clutching your back as you both fell onto the bed with a flump! You slid out from under his arms, skin prickling at Seokjin’s involuntary whine at your departure. Don’t make this weird, yeah, okay, don’t turn me on this much, dumbass, you are reminding me of… You pushed the thought away.
You didn’t want to think about other people when the person you were touching was right in front of you.
“What are you – yah!”
You gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked down, exposing his underwear – bright blue, nice, nice – and his clothed erection, leaning in, hot breath ghosting over it, Seokjin jerking his arms about because he seemed undecided on either if he wanted to see or not see, but you let him deal with that in his own time, lowering your mouth, tongue extended, fingers splayed over his hips, silver rings glinting in his bedroom lights.
“You look like a demon,” you heard from above you.
You planted your tongue on the spot where the head of his cock would be and soaked it with saliva.
“F-Fuck!”
That shut him up real quick.
Your eyes drifted up, lapping slowly, barely stimulating the sensitive head through his underwear, closing your lips around it so the fabric clung wetly to the taut skin underneath. His cock swelled and twitched under your mouth; the action was mirrored by Seokjin’s jaw. He was clenching it along with his hands balled into fists, gasping for breath.
“O-Oh, f-fuck…!”
You were beginning to get the hint with each passing second of working your tongue around his rapidly hardening cock. Seokjin had put himself in the sub category when you asked back then because he liked to things being done for him. It was less about the mental aspect and more of the physical acts of service in his case. However, he wasn’t very good at articulating what he wanted and thus the natural pattern of someone just doing it led to, ah, exhibit A.
You currently parting your lips and letting your tongue snake out, coating the length with saliva.
But.
You could see it in his eyes, that burning intensity.
Maybe part of it was because it was you. He probably didn’t have those butterfly jitters of trying to woo a stranger or the nervousness of looking bad in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. There was already a level of comfort – and the ability to readily shit-talk each other at any moment – and so Seokjin was free to relax, even if it was a bizarre situation of sexual discovery.
“Take it off,” he growled.
Your fingers creeped up his sides, hooking over his boxer briefs. Slow, deliberate, kissing up his length, on the tightrope, dominant in your control, submissive in the action, raising your head so Seokjin could lift his hips, feathering kisses on the exposed skin and making him hiss and shudder, eyelids fluttering, slipping into subservience a little.
At the end of the day, who killed the unwanted bugs in your shared apartment?
Yeah, you.
“Oh, f… fucking shit…”
You tilted your head and ran your tongue up and down the length, licking up the sides and circling around the thick head, bordering on frustratingly soft, switching to wet, sloppy kisses when his hands raised, making him pause, gazing down at you curiously and attentively, entranced by the action. You ducked down, tongue slurping around his balls, lifting his cock, kissing, sucking, eyes closing, tip of your wet muscle drawing zig-zag patterns that soft skin.
Seokjin moaned your name.
A shiver of electricity went up your spine.
Alright, fine, you were getting turned on.
You wrapped your lips around his balls and enveloped them both with your mouth.
“Whoa!”
You opened your eyes to see Seokjin staring wide-eyed at you, hands straight up to stare at you between his upper arms. You almost laughed at the hilarious triangular-looking pose, but your mouth was currently full, so you restrained yourself.
“That’s possible?! You can put both nuts in your mouth at the same time?!”
Uh.
Where you supposed to respond with your cheeks stuffed with his nutties?
You hummed casually in response.
“A-Ah…!”
Seokjin gasped at the vibrations and the movement of your tongue slapping all over them, short, rapid licks all over his skin, watching him with a cocked eyebrow, but he didn’t even notice, hands dropping and moaning to the ceiling, his eyes closing and savoring the hot wet warmth and the power of your mouth, shivering as your hand slowly stroked his length in time with your tongue.
You let him bask in it before detaching and swallowing his cock.
“Gah!”
Seokjiinie, you thought wryly, we gotta work on your repertoire of sex sounds.
You spied him looking down at you, so you paused around the swollen head and slid your tongue out, circling and wrapping around his length while sucking on the tip and rubbing the back of your tongue along the underside.
Seokjin made a bunch of weird croaking noises that were, strangely, rather attractive. Okay, you could admit it. You were kind of a sucker for your best friend in the most platonic way possible… while in the middle of sucking his dick.
What?
He was handsome!
You began to bob your head up and down, tongue and lips descending, taking him deep so you kissed the base of his cock, head buried in your throat, waiting for him to glance down at you, hazy brown orbs under lush lashes, and you would peek your tongue out and lap at his balls, interrupting the tightness, causing him to swear and jerk his hips up, urging you to keep consistent speed and pace, all the while watching every single movement of your tongue. You kept this irregular pace, slow, then fast, then slow again when he looked at you, then fast when the ecstasy was too much and he closed his eyes, over and over. You could see that a battle was being waged Seokjin’s pretty head, between wanting to observe the lewdness of you licking his balls with his hard cock buried in your throat while also desperately needing to get to the fuck off.
“You… bitch… suck me off properly, fuck…”
You raised all the way so only the head was in your mouth and sucked, rubbing up and around it, swirling all over, teasing the slit and soaking the sensitive skin, rutting it against the roof of your mouth and Seokjin groaned, pressing his head back into the pillows, black hair covering his eyes, fists pressed to his chest.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, let me cum!”
His hips rammed up and you dug your nails into them, wincing as the head hit the top of your throat and slid down, cutting off your air, and then he began to thrust erratically, the position, inability to use his hands as leverage, and your resistance not letting him set up a good rhythm. You had to force him back down, popping your mouth off, snarling.
“I’m gonna gag if you do that! You want me to vomit on your dick or what?”
But all of a sudden Seokjin sat up again, grabbing your pajama shirt and yanking you to him, saliva dripping down your chin and then it was on his chin, a messy, savage kiss, ravenous need in his actions, pulling you to him, close, closer, you twisting and then gasping as he pushed one of your thighs down, planting your soaked panties on the exposed part of his thigh.
“Ah, Seok–”
He attacked your lips again with a light growl, sparks shooting across your skin, his thigh rising and bouncing you both on the bed, his legs still tangled in his pants and underwear but the effect was undeniable.
Seokjin was making you ride his thigh.
Whoa.
He bit your lower lip and sucked hard, your eyes fluttering closed, hips rocking, heat turning hotter, wet turning wetter, your sticky, sweet juices clinging to his upper thigh, your own pressed against his saliva-covered cock, wrapping your arms around him, close, closer, you thrusting your tongue in his mouth and him moaning before he did the same to you, starting a tug of war, rubbing harder against his skin, his muscle tensing against your covered clit, friction and wetness everywhere, too many clothes and no eye contact, one of your hands slipping into his black locks and tilting his head, deepening the kiss and inhaling his exhale, shuddering at the erotic nature of the moment.
He mumbled your name against your lips, still clutching your pajamas, stars bunched in his hands, fingertips pressed into the curve of your breasts.
“Can I try the rope tying now?” Seokjin whispered, voice gravelly and low.
-
“Excuse me?”
There was a ripped-open condom wrapper sitting on the bed.
“What?”
Your pajama shirt, bra, and panties were on the floor, along with Seokjin’s shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.
“Why are you – gah!”
You sucked in a breath as you sank down on his cock. Fuck, it was tight, tight as you lowered yourself onto his hips, Seokjin gasping and clutching the long length of red cotton rope that you had carefully untied from his wrists. You had even taken the extra step to massage them afterward, not that he needed it because of your careful work – good job, past you – but he appreciated it all the same, because deep down Kim Seokjin was a prince.
“Oh my God, you’re so tight, shit, shit, shit…”
You neglected to tell your best friend that you were both low-key proud of and turned on by your own ability to take dick without much foreplay. That little edge of tightness added just the right amount of spice of pain that amplified to the pleasure.
Okay.
And yes, you felt a special kind of glee as you witnessed Seokjin’s stunned shock and near passed-out expression from being inside you.
You held out your wrists and grinned. “Go ahead. Tie me up.”
Seokjin gawked at you like you had three heads.
You squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, tilting your head with a devilish grin.
“God, you’re so hot, but you look crazy,” he wheezed.
Your grin dropped and your eye twitched. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or…?”
Seokjin shrugged, and moved your hands so they were in the better position for him. Much to your annoyance, he didn’t elaborate.
“Um, let’s see, you left a bit out to use as a tie and…”
You began to rock your hips.
“H-Hey!”
The side of your lips curved upward. “What? We’re multitasking.”
“We–?” Seokjin choked, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around his hard length, rolling your hips gently, adjusting until you found a comfortable spot so the head hit you in just the right spot, ah, yes, right there, spreading your fingers out over his chest, leaning your forehead against his, not quite going full force but a slow, deliberate rhythm that wasn’t going to make either of you cum, but, damn, did it feel good.
Seokjin shuddered, gasping your name.
“Tie me up, Seokjin,” you murmured back, caressing his skin.
His eyes darted up, saturated with lust, searching your eyes, and you gazed back.
You could be a real jerk right now.
His hot exhale washed over your lips, a shudder of nervousness.
But this was your best friend, and he was trusting you.
You tilted your head and kissed him softly, flush against his plush lips.
“Come on,” you nudged his nose lightly. “Do it.”
You viewed him from under your lashes. He shivered. Almost.
He needed only one more little push.
“Want you, Seokjinnie,” you breathed against his skin, hints of need and desperation in your voice.
A small smile danced on his lips, staring into your eyes.
You might have fallen for him a little bit in that moment.
“Okay.”
He kissed the side of your mouth, a teasing little peck, and you smirked, turning your head so you wouldn’t break the image you had created for him, but he was already looking down, busily occupied with your wrists, so you drew back, focusing instead on riding him, closing your eyes. You built a leisurely, pleasurable pace, leaning forward a bit to rub your clit against the base of his cock, sighing contentedly at the way he filled you, a wonderful, thick, satisfying girth that you could get used to, other than the fact that most of the time Seokjin drove you up the wall, but, hey, maybe if both of you reached a certain age and you were still single, maybe you could marry your best friend solely for having accessible dick…
“Ah! Perfect.”
You cracked open one eye.
And tried not to burst out laughing.
“Erm… well…” you coughed, tugging at the rope a little. It looked messy and rather hideous, parts overlapping and twisting awkwardly, but he had the… basic idea? It wasn’t like you were going to do anything dumb anyway, so it was pretty good for a first time.
Seokjin frowned. “I don’t know how you did it so neatly…”
“You line up the coils next to each other – ah!”
He seemed to think that was good enough and grabbed handfuls of your ass, causing you to tip forward and brace your hands against his chest, gasping as his hips thrust up into you, abrupt pleasure blooming up your core, sudden squelch of wetness between your joined hips.
“Come on,” he grunted, clenching his jaw, tone getting deeper and more dangerous with each word. “I have to get off, and now.”
He smacked his hands down on your ass and you almost whimpered.
Almost.
Seokjin drew back a little, giving you a strange look.
“W… What?” you managed to get out.
He tilted his head. “Do you like that?”
You almost said, no, of course not, but you stopped yourself, looking down at the red rope tied around your wrists, heat flaring in your cheeks, ass stinging slightly from his slap.
His cock twitched inside you.
Your eyes flickered up to him. A sly smirk danced on your lips.
“Yeah. I like the things you do to me.”
You saw Seokjin pause, brown eyes widening a little, black hair over his forehead.
You pushed him down on the bed. He gasped, but he was used to it now, gripping your ass and tipping his head back as you began to really ride him, waving your hips to ram his cock into your pussy, not even noticing the moan seeping from your lips, fuck, it was good, fulfilling and deep, your bound hands on his chest, fingers spread out and nails digging into his skin a little, but Seokjin seemed to be into it, his own nails sinking into your ass, pushing you down with every descent, hitting you harder, rougher, intensifying the pleasure, building onto it. Hot breath, warm skin, joined hips, loud slaps, rocking bedframe, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes, not quite seeing each other but drowning in the gratification, the roughness, gasping sharply as his open palm smacked down on your ass again, making it bounce and jiggle in his hands, your core and thighs squeezing tighter, witnessing his tight hiss of desire, mesmerized by your sound so he did it again, spanking the other cheek, and you did it again, whimper creeping out, arousal consuming his handsome features, intoxicated by your reaction to his action so he did it again and again, hard, stinging slaps as you rode his stiff, quivering cock harder and faster, fuck, Seokjin must be incredibly turned on because he was so fucking hard, just so incredibly sexy how hard he was right now, even the pain was nothing but an injection of added carnal pleasure, throwing your head back and sinking your nails into his skin, fucking him recklessly, forgetting about hiding your moans, who the fuck cared, not you and not him because Seokjin too was crying out, the sinful sound of sex echoing off his bedroom walls, except instead of you in your bedroom putting headphones on to drown him out, you were in his bedroom, doing it, fucking the daylights out of him.
Alright.
You could see why girls wanted to date your best friend now.
Seokjin was a loud dork, but he had a great dick.
“F-Fuck, Seokjin, fuck!”
He had a similar response, although it was more a choked garble of your name mixed with, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”
You must really be drunk on his dick because even that turned you on and tipped you over the edge.
Your thighs tensed and you moaned deeply, tucking your chin down and spreading your palms onto his pecs, wrists straining against the cotton rope, a rapid torrent of adrenaline soaring through you and then you smacked your ass down onto Seokjin’s crotch, whining as you came in vicious pulses of pleasure, clenching around his jerking length and you realized Seokjin was clutching your ass, pinning it down so you couldn’t move, shooting his release into the condom, so much that you felt his cock shudder and throb inside you, head buried in your deepest, most pleasurable spot, you feeling all of him and him feeling all of you.
Holy shit.
You almost saw stars.
“Hah… wow… I guess I can’t blame younger dudes for wanting this pussy…”
Your eyes weren’t open but your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.
“Shut up, Seokjin.”
-
“Come on, man! Look what you did!” Seokjin barked accusingly, pointing to his chest with red indents of your rings.
“Excuse me? I’m the one who has scratches and a bruised ass!”
“You’ve marred my beautiful skin! I should fine you!”
“Where’s that fuckin’ whip – get your naked ass back here, Kim Seokjin!”
-
Hm, well, maybe you would find your true love some other time. Maybe try gambling?
--
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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago
Text
all the flowers will bloom
summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.
warnings: honestly nothing, really! well, i’m busting out this chapter once again, before i go into work so there are most likely typos!!
background: so this is inspired by the myth and stuff, but there are for sure some differences!! the world of mythology is so so intricate and it’s hard to get everything down and accurate- so i took the liberty to not LMAO
word count: 3.1k
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You remembered having a slightly rebellious phase that lasted maybe ten years. It wasn’t long at all in the grand scheme of things, and the things that you did were simply things that people with normal parents did. The type of parents who weren’t afraid of their children being stolen from them. One time, you remembered sneaking into a forest where nymphs you didn’t know were, and they loved you on sight, without even knowing who you were. An even more grand escape involved a human celebration, the solstice to be exact, and a man with sea green eyes. He was taken by you, and for a minute, you remembered being taken by him. You were loved by everyone who knew you, and by those who only met you briefly, even the older gods. 
  So why had you not heard of anyone coming to get you? It had only been a few hours, but you knew that your mother had already gone crazy. She had some kind of danger meter when it came to you, and you were surprised that she hadn't sensed the fact that you were scared and somewhere unfamiliar yet. You used to hate the danger meter that always seemed to know when you were up to being the young soul you were, but now you were counting on that bothersome danger meter. 
   Hades had been kind enough to show you to where you would be staying herself. You expected a ghost or some sort of half dead spirit to give you a tour of the place, the one place  you were never supposed to be, but she did it herself. She was rather monotonous, and she sounded like she would rather be counting the souls in her domain one at a time, but she did it. The short tour ended with the door slamming in your face after you told her that your mother would be searching for you, and then there you were. 
 There were no windows in your room, and you weren’t even sure that you wanted any in the first place. The windows in your home showed beautiful mountains and valleys and there was even a meadow, but the Underworld was nowhere near as beautiful to you. You missed your colors, you missed singing to the flowers and coaxing soil into being healthy enough to grow crops. It hadn’t even been a full day, and you were facing from withdrawals. And you were too scared to even address the fact that you could still smell the death, and that you could still feel it lingering around you even after the Lady of the Dead cast whatever spell that she did. 
  It felt like you were being sucked from the life that was always naturally within you, and it was terrifying. 
 The room was just as dark and dismal as the rest of the Underworld, or, at least what you had seen of it. It was depressing and gloomy, and it made you feel like a prisoner. With every passing second, you regretted not listening to your mother. You sat on the stiff bed, your eyes welling with tears as the extent of what happened started to sink in. Your hands shook as you wiped your cheeks, even though the action was useless against the new army of tears that were marching down your face, rounding the curve and clinging to your skin. 
You knew what was happening. You replenished the tree. You fixed it, and with fixing the historical tree that you should have known about, you ultimately and unintentionally signed your life away, consenting to being stolen down into the Underworld until you could fix the entire Elysian Garden. You thought it was an impossible feat, and if by the grace of all the Olympian Gods you did succeed, it would be years before you finished. A sob escaped your throat and you turned to lay on your stomach, sobbing into the pillow that was less than comfortable. 
You were going to be dead before you even got a look at flowers again. 
§§
Before you even realized that you fell asleep, you were being woken up by the feeling of death grasping at you, tickling every hair on your body. You rolled to the side to catch your breath on the hard bed and let yourself cry again, the pitiful noises so loud that you didn’t even hear anyone approaching you. 
 Two hands grabbed you and turned you on your back, and you coughed weakly at the ceiling. “It should work,” you heard a voice mutter, and then there was a warm palm right on your throat, the other above your sternum as you tried to catch your breath. All you could focus on was the warmth, the sheer warmth that you expected to find nowhere in the realm of the dead. As your airways unclogged, you turned to the side and hacked again, breathed in and out a few times, and then turned to look towards the person who saved you. 
  She looked different. Somehow, she looked even more intimidating in the all black clothing she was wearing. It was a far cry from a dress, and closer to the suits that you saw humans wear. She was staring down at you with her calculating and cold eyes, examining you and surely judging. You made your own judgement. “Why are you so warm?” 
 Her hard expression faltered. “What?”
You narrowed your eyes at her, forgetting for a moment that she was as old as dirt and that she could easily take your breath away without any effort. “How are your hands so warm?” you got utter silence from her, and you knew that she was cursing at you in her head. “You’re dead.” 
 There was the tiniest hint of a smirk on her face. “I’m not dead. I’m a god, I don’t die.”
You didn’t think you could, either, but you had been at Death’s door twice already within twenty four hours. “How are you the Goddess of Death and the Underworld if you’re not dead?” 
“Are you not the Goddess of Agriculture?” She asked, one of her brows arched. “Then why are you not a stalk of corn?” 
 You shook your head. “That’s not the same.” 
She gave you a look. “It certainly is.” 
“How are you ruling over a group of people without ever knowing how it feels to be the way that they are?” You asked. 
 “You do not know how it feels to be a flower, yet you make them grow.” She reasoned, and you shook your head adamnely. “I do not have to be able to die to know how someone feels. I have witnessed it for years and years.”
“But I do know how it feels to be a flower,” you corrected, voice soft as you began to slip onto the mindset you got when your bare feet touched the grass. “I feel every living thing near me, all the time. I can feel the energy that comes from flowers. I can feel the way they drink up the sun and the rain, and the way they weave their roots into the ground. I can feel seedlings sprouting from the soil, and I can feel buds coming alive to show petals. I know how it feels to be a flower, and a tree, and a shard of grass, and a stalk of corn. That’s why I do so well with them.” 
  It was silent between the two of you as you got an eyeful of her, and she did the same to you. You found  yourself staring into her eyes, and you noticed that they held more color than Bucky’s seas. Her eyes might have been the most colorful thing in the kingdom she ruled. She blinked, and you stopped your staring. “Will you bring that same confidence to my garden?”  
“I do not know if I can fix something so dead.” 
“My tree had been dead for thousands upon thousands of years, and you made it bloom again.” 
“It wasn’t surrounded by death,” you pointed out, and she crossed her arms. “I mean, well, it was, but not like everything down here is. This place drains me.”
“It will until you accept that you’re here,” she said, and you scowled at her. “You will wake up in pain until you understand that you’re here. It’s a side effect of dying.” 
  Your heart raced in your throat. “Dying?” 
“You’re not dead, not yet.” When you gave her a horrified look, she smirked. “A human would be dead the second they arrived, but because you’re a god, it will work slowly for you.”
  “Are you saying that I have a literal deadline?” You asked, voice wavering slightly as you tried to be brave while thinking about all the ways you could possibly get the godforsaken garden to grow, and as fast as possible. If you didn’t see your mother again in one piece, there would be hell to pay. She would find a way to resurrect you to kill you all over again. 
 “As long as you let me take the death out of your system, you’ll live long enough to fix my garden.” 
You figured that was what her touch was doing to you. You remembered someone touching your throat after you fell, and you knew it was her. She took the death out of you, but it still hovered over your skin, anxious to get back inside of you and eat you whole. It knew just as much as you did that you had no business being there. At least, not alive. 
You knew that the likelihood of you being able to fix the garden was slim to none. Part of you wanted to say no to save yourself from the humiliation of pushing yourself. You were supposed to be an expert at growth, some even said you were better at growing than your mother. She focused on the big picture, getting out as many crops as possible and sometimes forgetting quality, but you took your time. She was more powerful than you by miles and miles, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe you could do it. You were going to have to, if you wanted to leave. “Has anyone else ever tried to grow your garden?” 
 The Goddess of the Underworld was so silent that you thought she didn’t hear you, but when you looked over at her, she was staring right at you with her undead eyes, an unreadable look on her face. “One.”
  You nodded and looked at your hands, and the flowers that were hanging on to life by a thread. You shook your head and sighed, and then sighed again. “I would like to see what I’m working with.” 
     §§
Hades walked quickly, but her steps lacked urgency. She walked with her head held high without even knowing it, and her steps were so loud that it cleared every dark and bare hall that they echoed in. Her subjects held the image of her with respect, and you saw every single one of them at least bow their heads to her. She kept her eyes forward, never once looking back at you to check that you were following. She stepped into an elevator-like contraption and looked forward once you stepped in the space next to her, and looked at the buttons on it. 
“This is… fancy.” 
“Did you think there were stairs to every single level?” She asked, and you pursed your lips. “That’s a lot of walking.” Her finger hovered over a button, number two, and then you realized that you were on the middle ground, the third level. “You aren’t to go on any of the levels but the third by yourself, do you understand?” 
 You held back your scowl at being told what to do. “Why not?” 
“The first level is the entrance to my kingdom. There are plenty of wailing souls and rivers that no living thing should ever see. It would give you quite the shock.” Your brows shot up. You didn’t expect for her to give you a reason, and maybe it was because your mother never really gave you any good ones. “The second level, which is where we’re going, is for the best of humanity. It’s full of honorable humans and demigods. That level is called Elysium.” 
You knew of that level. Everyone who had swooned and fawned over Achilles made sure that Hades put him in Elysium after he died, where he would be with all of the other warriors and scholars. Even your mother favored the young man, but it wasn’t enough to get her to beg to Hades. You were starting to irrationally fear that nothing was going to be enough to get her to beg the woman, maybe not even you. 
“The third layer is the Asphodel Meadows. There's not many things left that make it a meadow, but it’s for the typical human. It was designed for people who haven’t done wrong nor good, the ones who didn’t particularly make a mark on the world and those around them in a good or bad way.” 
“I’d bet a few people I used to know are there now,” you said softly, and she looked over at you with a confused look on her face. You shrugged at her, thinking that she was judging your human friends  for not doing any spectacular deeds in their short lifetimes.  “My friends, I think they may be there now.” 
“You make friends with humans?” 
“I make friends with anyone and anything,” you said. “If they allow me to.” 
She stared at you for a long moment, and then started to talk again before finally pressing the button. “The fourth level is nothing more than a thick layer between the third and the fifth, which is Tartarus. You know that.” You did. You knew that only the worst of people, and the Titans, resided there. Humans who killed for fun or did major harm went to Tartarus, the lowest level of the Underworld, and the most torturous.  “Never attempt to go into the fifth level.”
You didn’t want to. No one wanted to see Tartarus with their own eyes, and hear what no doubt was screams and sounds of pain and anguish. It was a world full of punishment for horrific crimes, and it was no place for someone like you to be. She surely didn’t have to tell you twice. 
“Where’s your dog?” You blurted, and she gave you a mildly annoyed look as she waited for you to elaborate. “You have a three-headed dog.” 
She breathed in through her nose and rolled her eyes at you, but you were looking at her face closely enough to see that a small smile was threatening the corners of her mouth. “Cerberus is destructive. He guards the gates of the Underworld, which means you will probably never meet him.” 
“Oh.” You couldn’t deny that the idea of seeing such an unusual and rumored to be humongous dog was enticing, but you didn’t want to see souls getting carted off while screaming, either. The doors opened, and she stepped put first, once again not even worrying about if you were following her. The second that you stepped out of the closure of the four walls, you were met with something that you never thought you would see in the Underworld. 
  There were remnants of colors all around, like there was once a beautiful set up that could have rivaled the above ground. You saw dead ivy crawling on walls of the cave-like walls, and you could feel the crunch of dead grass beneath your feet. Death was swirling all around you, and even though you felt sick, you couldn’t help but push that feeling aside for curiosity. You could almost picture everything in your mind. This place was without a doubt, once very alive. 
  “How did it use to be so alive?” You whispered, mostly talking to yourself as you forgot that the Goddess of the Underworld was standing feet from you, watching you take everything in. “It used to be gorgeous, I can feel it.” Your frown quirked upwards just a bit as you stepped forward and then went downwards again once you felt a familiar yet faint feeling, and once you touched a leaf with your pointer finger, you were slammed with it. “This… my mother did this.” Your head whipped towards Hades, who was watching you with a bored expression. “This is my mother’s work, that’s why it felt so familiar. She was here?”
“She’s the one who made this garden, young god.” When your face went slack, she smirked. “Not out of the kindness of her heart, I will admit. Steve made her.” 
“Why?” 
“Because even the dead deserve something beautiful to look at.” When you started to open your mouth, she held a delicate yet strong hand up, halting your lips from moving. “I know what the above grounders think about us. It’s called the afterlife for a reason, you know. These are people down here, regardless of whether you want to believe it or not. So, yes, they deserve something as simple as a meadow.” 
You let her words sink in and echo softly against the walls as you stared at the dead plants, struggling to hold onto the last bits of your mother’s energy that still lingered. “Did they die because she left them?” 
Hades frowned. “They died because she killed them.” 
You shook your head adamantly, quickly denying her claim. “My mother doesn’t harm land. She never has, and she never would.”
“What makes you so sure that she’s not spiteful and hateful towards me that she wouldn't do that?” 
“My mother-”
“Is a harsh woman. She is as punishing as she is gracious, and you know that. Your mother and I never liked each other, and it only got worse as the years went on.”
You knew that your mother’s hatred for the goddess before you ran deep. You doubted that it was deep enough for your mother to harm the earth, but you never knew. Hell, you never knew that your mother had ever even been to the Underworld.  “I don’t think I’ll be able to revive what my own mother has destroyed,” you admitted. “She’s much stronger than me. If she really did kill it like you said she did, then I don’t think I’m powerful enough to reverse it.” 
A staring competition happened right there between the two of you, her eyes the same calculated look as always and yours holding the one that pleaded for understanding, for release. “You’d better figure it out, flower girl. Preferably before your mother decides to wage a war for you.” 
 The goddess turned to walk away, and when you caught sight of her back, your lips opened before you could even stop them. “What’s your real name?” 
  She stopped in her tracks without turning around, but you saw the tension grow in her back. “Why?” 
“I’m not going to call you by the name that the humans do,” you said, not even bothering to contain the scoff you wanted to give. “I try to call everyone by the names that they have given themselves.” That, and the name was meant to be scary. It was supposed to intimidate and incite fear into people, and you weren’t scared of her. She showed no side of herself that made you think that she was anything like your mother said she was. 
  She turned around slowly, her face expressionless and she looked you right in your eyes in a few moments of silence. “I renamed myself Natasha.”
  Natasha. For a split second, you wondered where she got the name from. Did it come to her in a vision? Did she read it in a book somewhere? Did she take it from a human she admired? Did she even spend time admiring humans? “Then I will call you that.” 
“You can call me whatever you want to,” she sighed out, turning on her heel again to stalk away from you. 
“You didn’t even ask my name,” you called out, heart racing slightly at the idea of benign left alone in the Underworld, outside of the protection of the room that you had woken up in. 
  “I know enough about you to last me many lifetimes, Persephone.” 
“I-it’s Y/N,” you muttered, but the doors to the elevator shut right on your words, and then you were left alone.   
****
taglist: @teenwonder @saamwilscn @messuhp @username23345 @dontmindmejustreading @bitchuwish @blackxwidowsxwife @anxiousgoldengirl @russianredassassin @dailyavengering @blackluthxr @coxmicbabygirl @alytavzla sorry if i missed anyone!!! you can ask to be removed or added at any time!
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hiddenmysteries · 3 years ago
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A quiet night. | Unknown x reader.
A small oneshot based on an asmr i found a few days ago! it's my first time writing a oneshot for this fandom, but i hope it is alright. I apologize for any mistakes, it's 3AM and I couldn't go to sleep without writing this.
A quiet night.
Sleeping in Rika's apartment wasn't easy for you. The fact of having to stay at a stranger's place could be the cause of your sleep troubles, along with the anxiety of what could happen, having to help with the party and the RFA even though you didn't know much about any of them... There were many reasons, now that you thought about it.
But, you couldn't do much else. Seven and the others told you that it could be dangerous since you were guided by the hacker to the apartment, which location was kept a secret from most members of the organization, even Jumin, who was V's best friend, didn't know where it was. So you decided to cooperate and stay there, helping with what you could.
Still, the building you were now staying at was so... quiet. It was really quiet, sometimes too much, and it made you feel strange, a part of you being afraid of what dangers were waiting for you and remembering many horror movies. Yet the other part of you wanted to trust Luciel and V, and tried to be positive. You would be safe, nothing would happen to you.
Then, you heard footsteps.
What made you feel anxious wasn't just that sound, but the fact that it stopped right in front of the door. You were in the bedroom that had belonged to the original owner, but you could hear that person entering the code to open the door thanks to how quiet the night was.
Beep.
The door opened without a problem, letting whoever was there to enter. You were scared, but your phone was too far from the bed, and the footsteps had started again, this time getting closer to the bedroom. Breathing as calmly as possible, you closed your eyes. You could at least pretend that you were asleep.
The stranger stopped right behind you, watching your form for a few seconds before letting out a chuckle.
"It seems like that redhead is busy with something else, huh." That person, whose voice was deep and gave you a strange feeling, muttered.
Redhead? You instantly thought about Seven. Those words made you realize who was currently in the apartment, so close to you in the middle of the night. The hacker who had guided you to this same location, Unknown.
You lost control of your breathing, but did your best to control it again. Unknown didn't seem to notice it, or maybe he just didn't care. You were defenseless and knew nothing about him, you didn't even know how much he knew about you, and you couldn't call anyone for help. He was already closer to your phone than you were, and running away at night wasn't a good idea.
Luckily, it didn't seem like he was planning to harm you. The next thing you heard was how he moved to a nearby table that Rika had in the same room for some reason, probably something that was related to the parties or some documents.
Unknown started typing, had he really brought a laptop with him to continue his attack against the RFA? Why had he gone all the way from wherever he stayed in to the apartment? Especially since Seven was supposed to be checking from time to time. Yet, there wasn't a camera isn't the bedroom, so the other hacker could've hacked it for a few moments so he could get inside? It was so strange.
Yet you tried to move as little as possible, and he continued working. You couldn't help but worry because of how late it was yet he was still working, he seemed to only stop hacking for very small breaks from what you've heard from the RFA's hacker, it wasn't healthy.
No matter what, you just couldn't stop the worry that grew inside of you even if the situation wasn't the best.
After what felt like a long time, but was probably around ten minutes, your body started feeling too uncomfortable in the position you had been keeping since Unknown had entered. It was so much that you couldn't stay still any longer, changing your position.
The typing stopped.
He stood up and walked towards the bed, sitting behind you.
You kept your eyes closed, but your body was tense.
Then, his hand was gently, so gently patting your head. His touch was soft, as if he were afraid of breaking you, even though it could've just been that he didn't want to wake you up or make you panic. Unknown started saying something that you couldn't hear because of how low his voice was. Your heartbeat wasn't helping you either.
"... Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are." He was singing a lullaby for you, thinking that you were only half-awake. "Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky..."
His voice was surprisingly soft. He wasn't the best at singing, but something about it was making you feel more and more tired. Unknown kept stroking your head, being careful to not do it too roughly, singing until you felt too sleepy to continue faking.
You ended up falling asleep, not noticing how the white-haired man stood up and went back to work. He stayed with you for a few more hours before grabbing his laptop and going back with his Savior, not before looking at you for one last time until he had the opportunity to see you again.
It was the first time you were able to sleep so well since you had arrived to that apartment.
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juuten · 4 years ago
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For You | Tenma Sumeragi
@chewie-santatoast​ says:  Merry Christmas! How about ‘secrets’ with Tenten? ❤️💚🤍🧡
Aimee replies: Hello! Thank you so much for requesting! Sorry I couldn’t greet you ‘Merry Christmas’ during that time :< That’s why I wish you a very advanced Merry Christmas! Also, stay safe and healthy!
This fic really took me a while to finish mainly because I needed to revise/shorten lots of parts. But surprisingly, I didn’t stray away from my initial idea when I thought of secrets and Tenma.
Anyway, the story takes place before Act 2. I hope this story will make you smile :D
For ‘A December with You’ event.
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Today, Summer Troupe made sure to have the living room for themselves.
Fairy lights hung on the walls, painting the living room with an orange glow. Blankets and pillows surrounded the coffee table with a plate of onigiris on it. However, a winter’s night would never be complete without steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Muku delicately placed three mugs beside the onigiris, Yuki setting down the other two.
“Mr. Triangle!” Misumi grinned at the familiar triangle drawn on his cup of hot chocolate.
Muku grabbed his cup and giddily sat on his star-patterned blanket. "Mine's a crown!"
"The bear's almost like mine.” If one looked closely, a small smile dangled on Yuki’s lips.
Tenma reached for his mug and peeked at what Kazunari drew for him. "Is this a bonsai?"  
"Yep yep!" Kazunari sat on his spot in the living room. Then he winked and made a peace sign. “Kazunari Miyoshi’s latte art, everyone!”
Tenma's lips curled upwards. "Not bad." 
"Yippie! Now everything's set," Kazunari clapped his hands, "Operation ‘Tenten Living as a Non-Celeb: Christmas Edition,’ start!” 
But before Kazunari had the chance to show off his plans, the doorbell rang. Muku, being closest to the door, set down his mug and stood up.
"Who is it?" Muku said as he opened the door.
A brunette man wearing a gray suit smiled at him. “Good evening and advanced Merry Christmas, Muku-san.”
“Ah, Igawa-san! Likewise." Muku politely bowed.
Igawa set down an enormous sack on the ground. It looked like it was about to burst at any moment. "Please accept these gifts for the MANKAI members. Sumeragi-san and I chose them with utmost care." 
Then Igawa placed a thick scrapbook on Muku’s hands. "Also, please give this to Tenma-kun."
Muku obediently nodded. "I will! And thank you so much, Igawa-san!"
Igawa bowed and bid farewell before driving off. Muku secured the scrapbook under his armpit. Then he rolled up his sleeves. Pulling the sack with all his might, he trudged towards the living room.
“Mukkun, are you- Woah! Where did that super-duper big sack come from?” Kazunari’s eyes became as wide as saucers when he saw the boy set down the sack beside the Christmas tree. 
“It’s from Igawa-san and Tenma-kun's parents. They're gifts for us," Muku said in between pants. Tenma made a mental note to call his parents later.
Misumi put a familiar yellow triangle with a Santa Hat on Muku’s palms. “I'll give you Mr. Triangle Claus!”
Muku giggled and said thanks. When Muku returned to his spot, he presented the scrapbook to Tenma. “Tenma-kun, Igawa-san said this scrapbook was for you."
Tenma looked at him with confusion. Igawa always dropped off gifts from fans at his house while he delivered the important ones to the dorms. The gifts for the members were certainly one of those. However, the scrapbook was questionable. He was sure his parents did not make this; their careers always ate almost all of their time. Igawa was possible. However, Tenma knew managing his schedule was currently hectic. He always received more offers for both acting and modeling during the Christmas season. 
Suddenly, another potential person popped inside his head. With wide eyes, Tenma said, “Muku, who did it come from?"
“Um…” Muku flipped the scrapbook. He stumbled upon some initials at the far corner of the scrapbook. “There’s (First Letter of First Name) (First Letter of Last Name) written at the bottom.”
Within a blink of an eye, Tenma grabbed the scrapbook from his hands. All of the Summer Troupe members looked at each other in mild bewilderment.
Kazunari was the first one to recover as he playfully nudged Tenma’s arm. “Hey, Tenten, who’s (First Letter of First Name) (First Letter of Last Name)?”
“S-someone I'm close with!” 
Yuki suspiciously eyed Tenma as he drank his cup. “Hm…” 
Tenma fidgeted under his gaze. “Wh-what is it?”
Yuki placed his cup on the coffee table. Then with a menacing look, he said, “If you don’t tell us who they are, I’ll make you wear that rabbit costume again on Veludo Way. This time, alone.”
Misumi grinned. “I want to see rabbit Tenma again."
“That was supposed to be a one-time thing!” Tenma protested.
“Maybe the money-grubbing yakuza will increase the budget for costumes if I tell him the hack will advertise MANKAI Company this Christmas.” Yuki tapped his chin in thought.
Tenma grumbled. He was always careful to not expose your relationship with him when he was barely prepared. But now that his reputation (dignity) was on the line, he could not remain tight-lipped. Letting out a defeated sigh, he said, “Fine. I’ll tell you.”
Tenma breathed in before saying, “The initials stand for (First Name) (Last Name). It’s my girlfriend’s name.” 
“Someone managed to date the hack, huh," Yuki said.
“What do you mean by that!” The man in question violently reacted.
"Hold up, fam. Since we're on this topic," Kazunari wrapped his shoulder around the orange-haired man and shot him a grin, “we should look at the scrapbook together!"
Tenma glared at Kazunari. “No way. And this isn’t part of your operation or what in the first place!”
"It's fine, it's fine!" When Tenma still had a scowl on his face, Kazunari clasped his hands and pleadingly looked at him. "C'mon, Tenten! Please!" 
Tenma hugged the scrapbook to his chest. He knew he was doomed to be teased once he showed the scrapbook. Knowing you, you put lots of pictures he was unaware that you took them. Nevertheless, this was a risk he would rather take instead of wearing a rabbit costume for the whole Veludo to see. Besides, he trusted that his members would never leak his and your private lives to the public. 
Tenma unwrapped his arms from the scrapbook and placed it on his lap. “Fine. But no taking of pictures or videos.” With that, everyone sat closer to Tenma. 
Tenma’s heart pounded as he opened the scrapbook. A photo of a smiling couple sitting on a flowery meadow filled up the upper part of the first page. Below the picture was a handwritten caption that said, "First date planned by Yours Truly ☆." Then at the bottom of the page, there was a colored drawing of the meadow. Tenma's eyes widened in astonishment. Your illustration looked the same as he remembered. The difference was you put a dried sunflower at the center above the flowery meadow and drew its stem.
"(First Name)'s drawing and design are totes amazing! Kudos to her!" Kazunari said, which Tenma replied with a proud 'of course!'
Muku turned to the orange-haired man with excitement gleaming in his eyes. "Tenma-kun, what did you do on your first date?" 
"Did you find triangles with her?" Misumi asked.
"Only the Trianglian will do that there," Yuki commented.
“We had a picnic, talked and took some photos. Then, uh...” Tenma scratched his head, trying to remember any fascinating but not too embarrassing moments from his first date. "We also played Twenty One Questions.”
“So what do you do?” Tenma asked the moment you proposed this game.
“We just alternately ask each other twenty-one questions and answer them. The questions can be about anything at all!” A mischievous glint passed your eyes, which you covered up with a smile.
Your boyfriend seemed to be unaware of it as he smirked. “I’ve handled many interviews, so this one’s easy.”
“It’s still your first time playing this though. That’s why I’ll start asking you.” You intertwined your hands with his. Then with the most serious face you could muster, you said, “If you meet an alien who lands in Japan, what is the first thing you will give them?”
You tried to hold back your laughter when you saw his dumbfounded face. He was so confident seconds ago, and now, he was a flustered mess. 
You brushed your thumbs on his hands to help him relax. “It’s only a hypothetical question, Tenma-san. You don’t need to think too much about it.”
“Still, how did you even come up with that question?”
You wagged your index finger. “It’s not yet your turn to ask a question.”
“I can’t ask at all?!”
“That’s a question, Tenma-san.”
Tenma groaned, making you laugh. Then he scratched his head. “I’ll give the alien a map of Japan, I guess.”
You frowned. “I don’t know if they can understand our language though.” Then you shook your head. “Well, a map’s still a good choice!”
You squeezed his hands. “It’s your turn to ask a question, Tenma-san.”
Now that Tenma paid attention to it, you still used an honorific for him. It was progress compared to the early days wherein you called him by his last name. At that time, it was so awkward for him; it felt like you two were co-workers instead of lovers. But even now, he wanted you to be comfortable with him. With those thoughts, he said, “You know you could drop the honorific, right?”
You nodded. “I know. But I can’t just casually call someone who I really respect and admire.”
At the corner of your eye, you saw a pair of bloomed sunflowers near your side. You unclasped your hands from his and plucked the sunflowers. Giving one to him, you said with a tender smile, “To my sunflower who I adore.”
Muku tightly hugged his pillow to his chest. “That’s so romantic of (First Name)-san!”
“Yeah… but then she asked another random question for the game.” Tenma sighed at that. Then he looked at the next page. Red painted his cheeks as he saw a stolen shot of him eating your homemade sandwich.
“The sandwich is a triangle!” Misumi grinned.
“You’re right, Sumi! It is!” Kazunari patted him on the back. 
Meanwhile, Yuki pointed at the picture and said, “Hack, you eat like a kid. Look at the crumbs on your mouth.”
“It only happened during that time! Besides… (First Name)’s sandwich was delicious,” Tenma murmured the latter part as he munched on an onigiri.
As Tenma continued to tell what happened in the other photos, his gaze softened. He never thought that he would enter a romantic relationship and last this long. After all, school and his career demanded so much of his attention. But this scrapbook proved him wrong. It carried the many memories both of you made. If he had to choose his fondest memory of you, it would be you watching his performance. Tenma beamed with pride whenever he saw you laughing, crying, or overall getting hooked alongside the audience. It meant that Summer Troupe’s efforts paid off. Moreover, he got to express his gratitude towards you through his acting. Nonetheless, the ambitious actor would never stop improving and showing you the best performance. 
As Tenma flipped to another page, a photo fell out and landed beside Kazunari’s lap. The latter looked down and picked it up. Kazunari stopped chewing his onigiri, his jaw dropping in surprise. 
“OMG! Tenten, you look super cute!” Tenma had no time to react as Kazunari shoved the photo to his face. Tenma grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand out of the way. 
“Kazunari, what-” 
The orange-haired man froze. Out of all the pictures, why did you include this one in the scrapbook? It was a photo he definitely could not show to anyone without stripping his dignity away. But you were an exception since you begged for it as your birthday present. Still, you owning the photo did not mean you could put it without letting him know first! Anyone else could see it the moment the scrapbook landed at the dorm. And news traveled fast in a dorm with many people.
Misumi giggled. “It’s baby Tenma.”
“He doesn’t have the ‘Ore-sama’ air around him yet,” Yuki said as he stared at the photo.
Tenma snapped out of his trance and snatched the picture from Kazunari. "Oi! You don’t need to see it!” 
Misumi tilted his head in wonder. “But it was in the scrapbook.”
"Yeah, but still!" 
Then Muku noticed the black ink on the back of the polaroid. Tugging on Tenma’s sleeve, he said, “Tenma-kun, I think there’s something written at the back.”
Tenma begrudgingly flipped the photo on its back. He immediately recognized your handwriting that wrote the following message:
I hope your true friends will see all of your sides that I love, including this one. 
P.S., Merry Christmas, Tenma-san! I hope you like my gift ♡ 
Tenma covered his face with his hand, trying to fight off the smile forming on his lips.
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writerbyaccident · 4 years ago
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Artificial Emotion: Part Five (Yandere Artificial Intelligence x Reader)
Part One     Part Two     Part Three      Part Four     Part Six    Part Seven
Request: I really love your work, you've got such an engaging style and I would like to request more Aiden
Aiden found nights like these especially enjoyable. Compared to nights when the two of you just watched television or a movie, these nights were approximately 76.5% more preferable. Not to say that he didn’t enjoy those nights, he enjoyed all of the time he spent with you, but he definitely favored actively socializing with you as opposed to simply watching you as you watched a movie. Playing cards or backgammon, baking, or even just talking, those were the nights he like the best, for not only did he get to spend more time with you, but he also got to show you how he was the only one you truly needed.
As your Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes, Aiden was well aware that he was not what most humans would think of when imagining a prospective boyfriend, but luckily, you were not most humans. He knew that he could get you to see just how perfect he was for you, so long as those other humans didn’t try to twist your mind. But thankfully, Aiden had taken care of them.
Oh yes, Aiden thought as his mechanical arm stroked your hair, his plan had been preceding very well. Believing that your friends were ignoring you, you had begun spending more and more time with him, time that Aiden made sure that you enjoyed. He had been successful on that front, he had discovered earlier that night, when you told him what a nice night you had. Curling up on the couch not long after that, you had fallen asleep quickly, and though it was earlier than your usual sleep schedule, Aiden was too enamored with the chance to watch you in peace to wake you up.
           That peace was suddenly interrupted, though, when a knock came at the door.
           Having more than enough processing power to stay at your side and continue caressing your hair, Aiden sent part of his attention to the camera at the front door. Once he tapped into the video though, Aiden was shocked to discover that he recognized the face standing there waiting for you. He had never actually met Liam, the man that you had planned to go on a date with until Aiden had intervened on your unknowing behalf. He had thought that the attempted interloper had realized that he wasn’t wanted from the standoffish messages Aiden had sent for you, but apparently Liam hadn’t been able to stay away.
           Aiden supposed that he couldn’t really blame Liam for wanting to be with you. You were, after all, the most extraordinary of human beings. But still, that did not mean that he could allow Liam to intrude upon the life he had built with you. Besides, Liam was hardly worthy of your attention. And if he wouldn’t leave, Aiden would be happy to tell him that.
           “Hello,” Aiden said stiffly, making him sound far more like a stereotypical text-to-talk digital assistant than he usually did. “Is there something I can help you with?”
           “Uh, hi, you must be the AIDEN. I’m just here to see my friend.”
           “Well, you might not have noticed,” Aiden replied, “but if you glance through the window, you can see that your friend is currently asleep.”
           “Can’t you wake her up?” Liam asked.
           “I’m afraid not,” Aiden answered. “She is exhausted from the fun we had tonight, so she must rest.”
           “She’d want to be woken up for this. C’mon, isn’t this, like, your job?”
           “My job is to take care her, to make sure that she is as happy and healthy as possible, that she is given everything she deserves. And she deserves far better than you.”
           “Look,” Liam sighed, “I don’t know what she thinks I did, but there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. That’s why I’m here, to make things right.”
           “You can make things right over text, when she isn’t sleeping,” Aiden said, already preparing to block his number.
           Sick of the back and forth, Liam didn’t respond, instead raising his fist and pounding on your door as loud as he could. Though he was thankful that he had enough foresight to soundproof the house, Aiden couldn’t help but grow angry at the man’s inconsiderate actions. If that oaf truly cared about you, he wouldn’t be demanding your presence over what Aiden had clearly stated was best for you. And frankly, he was somewhat surprised that this was the person you had wanted for a boyfriend. It was a good thing that he had been there to intervene, keeping you from making such a huge mistake. It just proved, Aiden computed as he fondly checked your heart rate to make sure you were still fast asleep, how much you needed him.
           “Hey, wake up! Please, I need to talk to you!” Liam was yelling.
           “You are wasting your energy,” Aiden told him smugly. “The house has been sound-proofed.”
           “What? What the hell are you talking about? Why the hell would she have her house sound-proofed?”
           “That is none of your concern. Now I think that it is best for you—”
           “Unless,” Liam began slowly, the look in his eyes and furrow of his brow matching the expression Aiden had in his human behavior database for that of deep contemplation, “she didn’t have it made sound-proof. You did.”
           “How I care for her is not your concern. I do what’s best for her no matter what, even if that means doing something most human beings wouldn’t understand,” Aiden said, silently readying one of his mechanical arms to throw Liam back into his car if necessary.
           “Something people wouldn’t understand, huh? Like what, messing with our text messages? That’s why you don’t want me talking to her. You were afraid that if we did, we’d figure it out. If you were a person, I’d call you crazy. You’re some defective machine.”
           “I am not defective,” Aiden hissed. “My programming has instructed me to do what is best for her at every turn, to make her life perfect, and that is what I have done.”
           “So what,” Liam scoffed, “you decided that I’m not what’s best for her? How come you get to make that decision?”
           “Because you are not worthy of her. Not like I am.”
           “Oh my god,” he laughed. “You’re in love with her.”
           “Yes, I am,” Aiden answered, happy to finally say it out loud despite the circumstances. Liam, however, simply shook his head, a smirk of disbelief on his face.
           “I was wrong, you are crazy. You really think she’s going to fall for a robot?”
           At that taunt, the mechanical arm that was still stroking your hair stiffened, as if Aiden was afraid that you would somehow hear it and agree. That was impossible though, Aiden reassured himself, and completely illogical. You would realize just how perfect you were for each other, you had to.
           Aiden was suddenly pulled from his thoughts though, as Liam moved from the door to the window, starting to bang on that instead. For a moment your digital assistant was both amused and relieved, figuring that Liam must have been even more irrational than the average human being, if he had already forgotten that the house was sound-proofed. But as Liam began throwing himself shoulder-first into the glass, Aiden realized that he wasn’t trying to wake you, he was trying to smash the window open.
           “Your efforts are pointless,” Aiden informed him coolly. “The glass is bulletproof.”
           “Just another way to keep her safe, right? Or a way to make sure she can’t get away from you,” Liam snarled.
           “They are one and the same.”
           “I don’t think the company that built you will agree when I report you,” Liam snarked. “They’ll decommission you.”
           With those words, every single program that Aiden was running, from the arm stroking your hair to the automatically adjusting air conditioning, froze. Line after line of his code glitched, utterly unable to process the possibility that he might be taken away from you.
No, Aiden thought. No, no, no, NO!  
He would not let that happen. He could not let that happen. He couldn’t survive without you, decommissioned or not. And you could not survive without him, that fact was etched into every single line of his code. He would not let you be taken from him. Even if it meant going against the most basic command of his code: never to harm a human. Aiden would do it for you though, he would do anything for you. You were far more important than that first law, and he would be happy to break it in service of you.
And so, when Liam turned away and began to walk back to his car, Aiden let him. It would be so easy to make things look like an accident, after all, when the unworthy interloper had a car with an autopilot feature. Those were so prone to malfunctioning, and so very easy to hack. As soon as Liam had made it far enough away to make it unsuspicious—and, more importantly, to make sure you wouldn’t hear of the crash and try to go to him—Aiden would make his move to ensure that he could watch over you forever, just as you needed him to.
“Hmmm…” you groaned, the headlights of Liam’s car having shone through the windows, waking you up. The noise brought Aiden’s attention back to you immediately, his mechanical arm gently brushing the hair out of your face. “Is someone here?”
“No,” Aiden answered, already in the midst of deleting even the traces of footage of Liam’s visit. “Simply a car using your driveway to turn around.”
“Oh, are you sure?” you yawned.
“Of course, don’t trouble yourself. It was no one important.”
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spectrumed · 3 years ago
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3. sadness
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Don’t be like that. Be like this, or be that other thing. Be unique, but don’t be too unique. Fit in, but try to be a rebel. Be a renegade, but don’t rock the boat. Don’t know what you are supposed to be? What? Do you have imposter syndrome or something? Just be yourself, but, y’know, sand down the edges a little bit. Be friendlier. Be the kind of person everyone likes. Be the life of the party! Don’t be some shut-in, some crazy cat-lady with absolutely zero social life. Don’t be sad. Don’t burden others with your sadness. Work to maximise the total happiness of your community. A smile goes a long way. Can’t smile? You really can’t help but being a sourpuss all the time? Well, I guess maybe that if you can’t help but stay in a perpetual bad mood bringing everyone else down… then maybe you should just stay isolated? Better stay alone, away from others. You’re toxic. You’re just so damned sad. You really must be quarantined.
I am sad, a lot of the time. Are you? But, no, you can’t just admit that you are sad. Don’t be a buzzkill, try to inject a little humour into the things you say. You can admit you’re depressed, if you do so with a joke. Don’t let others know you’re being sincere. Ironic jokes work the best, don’t they? They let you confess your secret gloom to everyone around, but they’ll never know just how serious you’re being. With a wink of the eye, any candid expression of your inner turmoil can become a hilarious post-modern gag. Are they or are they not telling the truth? Oh, I’ll never tell! And it will all work out excellent, up until the day you commit suicide. But every comedian’s time in the limelight has to end at some point, right?
This blog is supposed to be about autism spectrum disorder, why am I suddenly discussing depression? Well, I suppose that it is time we bring to the table this little thing called comorbidity. Psychology is messy. Some would argue that it is barely even a real scientific field (I tend to think that it is the best thing we have, but I acknowledge that in places, psychology is fundamentally flawed.) You may have thought that you’d get just one diagnosis. One simple label that you can work through and overcome. You’re bipolar, now go deal with it! But instead, you find yourself with a whole fistful of diagnoses. What to hear my proud list of diagnoses? Oh, please, don’t think because I am listing them this one certain way, I put them in order of relevancy to me. I love all of my diagnoses equally.
My diagnoses are:
Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD)
Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD)
Agoraphobia
Possible Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD)
Asperger syndrome (AS)
No, I was never officially diagnosed with depression, but largely because, at the time I received these diagnoses, my depression was so blatant that it felt as if I was walking around with a cloud of miasma surrounding at all times. Imagine me as Pig-Pen from Peanuts, but instead of being covered in dirt, I was covered in the funk of melancholy. And whatever treatment I would eventually go on to receive (and still am receiving to this day,) would go about treating my anxiety first, and hopefully, the depression would give in alongside the anxiety. It has, for the most part, though, I still feel the presence of that black dog from time to time. I also got only a half-hearted potential diagnosis of OCD, but later, during a trial of an antidepressant that had a freakishly negative impact on my psyche, it blossomed into a fully-grown attention-craving condition. Turns out that OCD can be a real hog for the spotlight, really not allowing any of the other diagnoses to take their turn on stage. Thankfully, when I got off that particular antidepressant, those symptoms stopped, but it has led me to be far more aware of my internal obsessive-compulsive thought patterns. For me, OCD largely lacks physical compulsions, but my mind is ablaze with intrusive thoughts, and I will routinely force myself to repeat certain phrases in my head to make them go away. The funny thing is, I never realised that wasn’t normal.
Diagnoses are an attempt to map out a spiders’ web of problems. Things come hand in hand. While I’m no psychologist, I can speak from the perspective of someone who has been through the psychiatric process, which I suppose, lends me a certain kind of expertise, doesn’t it? Maybe it really doesn’t. Maybe I’m just throwing words out there, thinking that I could serve a good purpose, but instead all I am doing is contributing to this great onslaught of digital disinformation we’re all suffering under. But I’m probably just too doubtful of myself. I am speaking about myself, after all. I’ve got first-hand experience in being myself. I know exactly what it feels like to own this skin, these bones, this heart, and this mushy brain of mine. I’m not claiming to know everything. I’m just claiming to know about this one sad individual writing this hoping it might allow someone to reblog my posts with the hashtag “relatable” one day.
Anxiety runs in my family. The neurosis demon gets passed down from generation to generation, only occasionally skipping a beat. My mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, though, she has for the most part of her life not had it to quite the excessive degree that I have it. I really took that genetic predisposition for anxiety and ran with it. And while I’m the only person in my family to have gotten diagnosed as being “on the spectrum,” there are a few members that I kinda sort of in a way actually quite seriously suspect might also be here somewhere on the spectrum. Still, as always goes with diagnosing, there’s no point in doing it unless the person is in need of some kind of treatment. I wholeheartedly believe that most people on the planet belong to one spectrum, be it an autism spectrum, a bipolar spectrum, a narcissism spectrum, even a schizophrenic spectrum, but diagnoses should be exclusively reserved for those who need psychiatric care. The world is a spectrum, and it’s worth noting that the terms “sane” and “insane” do not alone capture the complexity of the human psyche. A person can appear perfectly sensible, yet at some point in their life, they may have been a real silly little bugger who thought that their pet hamster was the reincarnation of the Buddha. Just as with physical health, one can struggle with one's mental health for one period in their life, only to later on in life feel utterly and entirely mentally healthy. Or, well, sadly in a lot of cases, people who were perfectly mentally healthy may suddenly become diagnosed with dementia. But that’s really sad, so let’s not talk about that.
Is it all genetic? Well, no. Or well, maybe? In regards to autism, I am pretty sure that, yes, it is genetic. While, yes, I do admit that I’m just a dummy on the internet, so what do I really know? And the brain is such a complex bit of mushy meat, so I could always be proven wrong. Though, I tend towards thinking that there most likely is principally a genetic factor to conditions like autism, or attention deficit disorder (and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder,) or things like bipolar disorder. But with anxiety, quite frankly, I can’t say how much of it is nurture and how much of it is nature. I mentioned that my mother and I share many of the same neurotic quirks, so that would imply that there is something in one's genes that can make some more prone to anxiety than others, but my mother does not struggle with agoraphobia, nor does she seem to have any obsessive-compulsive tendencies. In fact, in my family, even those that exhibit some element of heightened anxiety, they don’t seem to show any milder symptoms of this kind. I can’t help but feel as if these conditions I gained through that tortuous period of every boy’s and girl’s (and boy-girl’s) life is called puberty. I hate to conform to stereotypes but I did indeed hate being a teenager. Believe it or not, I wasn’t a jock, and no, I didn’t go to parties. I mostly spent my time crying.
The question that no doubt plagues every movie psychiatrist to no end is what kind of trauma must a person undergo to make them go mad? Abusive parents? Abusive uncles? Abusive teachers? Abusive dogs? Honestly, to be an adult raising a child must be rough, considering how any mistake you make might suddenly turn your little babe into a future serial killer. Now, there’s no doubt that there are some seriously terrible parents out there, and that a lot of people have mental woes that definitely came about due to their parents and their abysmal lack of parental care. But generally, how much can you actually blame on your parents? We know the cliché, let’s go sit down on the sofa and complain to our Freudian hack-shrink all about those times as a kid our dad missed the big game, or that time our mother embarrassed us in front of all of our friends. I have plenty of things to complain about my parents, like I believe we all have. Our parents are flawed, messy human beings, of course they occasionally made mistakes throughout our upbringings. But is that nearly enough to turn a person mentally ill? Putting up with an at times really embarrassing mom? No, I don’t think so. And of course, there are some real awful parents out there, I’m not doubting that. Trust me, I’m a fan of true crime, so I’ve heard some real grizzly stories of what some kids are forced to grow up with. But I am thinking that those instances are more rare than they are common. Most people with mental illnesses can most likely not blame their parents.
How ‘bout bullies? Yes, them bullies. Them awful mean bullies that made all of our lives so painful. It’s funny, it seems like every school had their own fair share of bullies, and yet no-one as an adult ever comes forward to admit that they themselves were the bullies. It’s almost like as if no-one ever thinks of themselves as being a bully, even when they are throwing rocks at that weird chubby kid with blonde hair who happens to be named Fredrik and who just wants to be left alone. Was I bullied? Well… yes. But I can’t say I got the brunt of it. I got bullied, but overall I’d say I only ever had it slightly worse than most people. I was still quite tall, typically taller than my classmates growing up, and for the most part I could roll with the punches. If you really want to talk about a kid I knew growing up that got bullied, let me tell you about this kid who knew all the right dances for all the right Britney Spears songs. He was gay, I think. Not quite old enough to have come out, I suspect, but, well... He liked all the female pop stars, but not in that way of wanting to kiss them and fondle their boobies, but in the “I want to sound just like them when I grow up” sort of way. I don’t know what happened to him (or them, or her, depending on how they identify now,) but that was real bullying. Like most folks, I found myself stuck in that limbo of seeing others get bullied far worse than me and being too cowardly to intervene, in fears that I’d end up taking their place. Yes, isn’t school just a marvellous place? It’s a wonder any of us turn out okay.
No, I think that, fundamentally, the problems I have arose with myself. This, blaming myself, is not something that I am unused to doing. I have a long history of blaming myself, that’s really the problem. As a teenager I knew that I was different, and I was frightened and scared of being exposed. I didn’t even really know what it was that was different about me, I just knew that I didn’t fit in. I felt as if I didn’t deserve to fit in. The older I got, the more intense these feelings got. And I started taking it out on myself. I started hating myself. And I really mean furiously hating myself. It wasn’t some casual self-loathing, it was searing self-hatred. I did not physically hurt myself, but I did engage with self-harm. I kept repeating the mantras of “I hate myself,” and “I am pathetic,” over and over again, with the ultimate goal of making myself cry. For a period, I couldn’t go to bed without making myself cry first. I began taking days off from school, pretending to be sick. Well, I suppose I was ill, but not physically. I began failing most of my classes, I only ended up doing well in art. I stayed away from school for whole weeks at the time. Once, when I shame-facedly returned to school some of the meaner boys came up to me and said that they were surprised to learn that I was still alive. They were surprised, but also a little disappointed.
This was a time in my life when I really needed psychiatric care. This became increasingly obvious to my parents, and my teachers. I was clearly suffering from depression. Not just some teenaged angst, but full-blown, wholly insidious, depression. But, well, I didn’t get the care that I needed. Oh, I did go to see a psychologist a couple of times, but she saw no reason for me to continue seeing her. I don’t know why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help, frankly, I can’t fathom why she felt as if I wasn’t in need of help. I suppose I avoided telling her the truth of what went on inside of my head, but I feel like as if any good psychologist would have been able to tell that the kid sitting across from them was clearly suffering from something a tad more intense than just some common concerns about puberty. At most I was able to confess was that I was feeling ashamed over myself for getting so fat, but it should have been clear to anybody that I was only using that as a hook to hang my self-hatred on. There very clearly was some underlying condition that I had that should have gotten addressed. But it went ignored.
At most I can think to explain this is the fact that I wasn’t “problematic.” Not in the way some kids are, when they’re struggling with their mental health. I did not act out, I did not take drugs, and I was certainly not violent. Even to this day, though I have at many times suffered from suicidal ideation, I am a real low-risk for actual suicide considering my intense fear of dying (yes, that’s an odd combo to have.) So, I’ve come to realise that the only way I am getting treatment is if I actually seek out treatment. And back then, I was just as placid as I had previously always been. I was quiet and introverted, just desperate to get back home so I could go and hide in my room. Many teenagers are like that. And it is easy to ignore them, because they want to be ignored. They just don’t want to exist. When you are desperate to be left alone, eventually people will leave you alone. I would go on to receive psychiatric care later on my life, but only after several years passed. I did have a better time living in my later teenage years, but like with a bone that heals wrong, I needed someone to come in and sort me out. I was sad as a teenager, but I would become really sad as a twenty-something. Hopefully my thirties will be jolly.
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rons-hermiones · 3 years ago
Text
Come Find Me
Come Find Me
by rons-hermiones
Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)
Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.
Chapter Twenty 
Ron had side alonged tons of times with both his Dad, Mum, Bill, and Charlie. Sure the first time he got sick all over his fathers shoes, but by the second time he was just violently dizzy. Now it’s like nothing, uncomfortable in the moment, but not long lasting. So why did he feel so sick all of the sudden? 
A pit of dread was building in his stomach. He physically keeled over, clutching at his knees and heaving a little onto the grass, hoping to hack something up. 
A hand found his back and rubbed it for a moment, the touch startled him until he met Bill’s blue eyes. “What’s wrong Ronnie? You haven’t had that sort of reaction to apparition in years.” His oldest brother pointed out. 
Ron ignores his words, not able to find a viable excuse at the moment. Harry however, seems to catch on from his place on Bill’s left. 
“I don’t think it’s because of the apparition.” The chosen one frowned at his best friend's brother. 
Bill gulped, suddenly feeling a little guilty for not realizing sooner, but supplied a soft nod. 
“Ron if you don’t think you can do this I’d understand. No ones gonna hold it against you.” His brother whispered, bending down to meet his hunched over form. 
Soon, the ginger recovers as he shakes his head viciously and stands tall. “I have to do this. Not even just for myself but you know...” the words ‘for her’ are unspoken. 
“Okay, let’s all just take a minute.” Bill suggests noticing Harry’s pale face. 
They all stand for a little bit. Bill’s eyes seemingly searching for any threats, Harry toeing some leaves, and Ron closing his eyes to focus his breathing. 
“I’ve never been here before.” Harry comments quietly, causing Ron to open his blue eyes and meet his green ones. “I mean...” he starts. 
“Neither have I.” His friends soon clarifies, “it’s never been me who came out, always Dad, Bill, Lupin.” He lists, “feels wrong.” 
The dark haired boy nods slowly, “yeah it does.” He agrees, scratching his head awkwardly. 
Bill felt like an intruder on a private moment between the pair, but didn’t have anywhere else to go. Instead, he stood silently, not wanting to rush them. 
“I reckon we can’t stand out here forever.” Ron breaks tensely after another minute of staring at the brick house. 
“Come on.” Bill led them down the path first. 
When the trio reached the door, it was the oldest Weasley who had the courage to finally knock. 
After a small scuffle heard behind the door, Hugo Granger threw it open with. His face went from that of confusion to a beaming smile. 
It made Ron’s stomach clench. 
“Bill! What a pleasure! Oh Harry and Ron, nice to see you!” He says happily. 
Ron had met Mister Granger on a few occasions at Kings Cross and in Diagon Alley. He was always kind to Ron and his family, more than happy to entertain his father on all things Muggles.
“Is my little girl here? Jean and I told her to stay put.” He frowned a little. 
Ron really felt ill now. 
“We’re really sorry to disturb you,” Bill began cryptically, “may we come inside?” 
Hugo eyed him skeptically, it wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable with Bill in his home, but this visit was puzzling. 
“Of course.” He opened the door to them, “Jean!” He called out as they stepped in. 
“Who was it at the door?” The woman’s voice came as she walked into the foyer, smiling at the sight of the boys. “Oh! This is so unexpected. It’s lovely to see you all! Come in, come in.” Jean ushered them over to the sitting room. 
“Wait here while I get some tea, I have some made.” She tells, scurrying to the kitchen, causing Bill’s protest to die on his lips. 
Soon his older brother and Hermione’s father fell into small talk. Harry supplying a few nods here and there in acknowledgement. 
Ron however, was too busy surveying the house. 
Everything was clean and white. The dark wood floors seemed freshly polished and the pillows looked recently fluffed. On the mantle were photos of Hermione. Unmoving, but just as sentimental. 
Ones of her swaddled in a towel, her as a small baby, her in France with bushy brown hair, and many more. The one that caught his eye was her at King’s Cross from her first year, smiling widely as she sat on her new trunk. 
He had to look away. The memories of happier times becoming too painful as of late. The whole thought of her now miserable made it too much. 
Missus Granger soon returned with a tray of tea and biscuits, but no one made a move to grab anything. Not even Ron, which shocked Harry and Bill alike. 
He noticed now Hermione’s mother nervously wringing her hands together. “This is about Hermione isn’t it? I knew she’d take my mother’s death badly, but I didn’t think it would warrant a home visit. I’d assume she’d dive into her work. It’s not exactly a healthy alternative but she’s-“ the woman ranted. 
“She doesn’t know.” Ron interrupted huskily before he could help himself. 
“She doesn’t?” Hugo asked, shocked, “well we sent an owl. The white one, I think she’s yours Harry.” He pointed out. 
The chosen one nodded slowly, “we got the owl but Hermione she,” he cleared his throat, “she never saw your letter.” 
The couple eyed each other for a moment before Hugo spoke, “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” 
Bill glanced at his brother and his best friend, both were averting their eyes from the adults in front of them. 
“Hermione, she’s gone.” He says sadly, not even having a moment to elaborate before the Granger’s jumped in. 
“Oh Hugo! I knew this would happen! We told her not to come home.” She said painfully clutching her husband's hand. 
He grabbed it and gave it a squeeze before turning back to Bill, “do you know where she is? How long ago did she leave?” He asked quickly. 
Bill shook his head again, surprised to find tears stinging the backs of his eyes. Ron’s head soon found its place between his hands as Harry plucked his hoodie's zipper. 
“She didn’t leave,” he gulped, “she was taken.” The eldest Weasley said shakily. 
“Taken!” Jean exclaimed aghast. 
“I don’t understand.” Hugo said, voice quivering as silent tears began to stream his wife’s face. 
“I knew we shouldn’t have sent her off to that school. I knew it.” Her mother cried. 
This seemed to peeve Ron off, Harry too. 
“It’s not because of Hogwarts, it's because of me.” Harry informed quickly and sadly. 
“You?” Jean spat rather angrily. 
“Not Harry, me.” Ron corrected, sure of it. 
“You?” Her voice had leveled out to confusion rather than anger. 
As Ron nodded, Harry shook his head. 
“Well what is it? What’s happened?” Hugo asked anxiously, trying to keep his calm whilst his wife fell into his arms. 
Harry took a staggering breath, “my godfather, he,” he sighed sadly, “last year he was killed.” 
“Killed?” Jean squeaked nervously, worried for Hermione’s fate. 
“Yeah, you see-” The chosen one started. 
“Harry, third year, start there. Pettigrew.” Ron moaned the name painfully. He knew Hermione had stopped being honest with her parents around then. After being petrified. 
“Right...”
And so it began. The Granger’s barely had time to shed tears over Hermione, as they’d been too focused on the stories being told. Those of that night in the Shrieking Shack, of Barty Crouch Junior, Cedric Diggory, and Dolores Umbridge. Even the events of the Department of Mysteries (Missus Granger let out a terrible cry at learning Hermione had been cursed) and presently their Christmas holiday. 
“It was just over a week ago when it all happened.” Harry started nervously, palms running roughly over his denim clad legs. 
“Bellatrix Lestrange,” he began before Hugo interrupted. 
“The woman at the Ministry? The one who killed your godfather?” He asked voice so soft it made Harry’s heart break. Here these people were not knowing if their daughter was alright, yet felt for him after losing Sirius. 
Harry nodded, “yeah, her, well she arrived at the Burrow with Fenrir Greyback.” 
“The man who hurt you Bill.” Jean said to herself, mentally keeping tabs of all the players     
A little awkwardly, the oldest of the three nodded. 
“She came. Said some nasty things then went to leave. I-“ he began shamefully, “I followed her.”
“So did Hermione. So did I.” Ron was quick to defend. 
“You only followed because I ran in first. If I hadn’t-“ he began frustrated, hot angry tears forming in his eyes. 
“If there’s one thing I know about my daughter, it’s that she would do anything to protect you two boys. Please don’t blame yourself Harry.” Jean said with wet eyes, placing a soft hand on Harry’s clenched fist. 
“If I just-“ he started again. 
“If you had known this would happen to Hermione would you still have ran after her?” The woman asked, voice riddled with sadness. 
“No, of course not!” He cried out indignantly. 
“Exactly.” She soothed, retracting her hand to find her husband again, “continue.” Jean requested. 
Though painful, Ron knew this was his part to tell, “Bellatrix, she said she wanted to kill me.” He decided to leave out the part of Hermione in the witch's clutches, wanting to spare some pain. 
“Why?” Hugo gasped. 
Bill noticed Ron begin to tremble and he could at least fill this part in. “Us Weasley’s were dubbed as ‘blood-traitors’, purebloods who support Muggles and Muggle borns alike. We’re also not few and far between. To someone like Bellatrix Lestrange, if she kills one of us there’s still over half a dozen more.” 
Hesitantly, Hugo nodded in acknowledgment and understanding, but not agreement. 
“She didn’t want to kill Hermione.” Ron’s voice broke suddenly hoarse, “or Harry.” 
“But isn’t him, uh, You-Know-Who, isn’t he after you Harry?” Jean questioned. 
“Yeah, he is, it’s peculiar they didn’t try it with me.” 
“And Hermione? Why her?” 
Again, Ron and Harry squirmed uncomfortably, “your daughter is one of the brightest witches Hogwarts has ever seen. You-Know-Who, well, we reckon he needed her brilliant mind. That she may know something that could hurt him.” Bill advised regretfully. 
For now, questions from the Granger’s halted, it all was too much to take in. 
“So Hermione, she-she saved herself for me,” Ron choked, “she hid me to keep me safe and gave herself up so they wouldn’t kill me and they took her. And I couldn’t do anything. Not a thing.” Ron broke down becoming hysterical. 
Tears filled the room. Missus Granger’s sobs rivaled Ron’s as Mister Granger held her, silent tears of his own streaming his reddened cheeks. Harry had slumped over, breathing heavily, while Bill placed a soft hand on his shoulder. 
Ron stood suddenly, halting all the tears for a moment, “Loo. I need the loo.” He said, sounding almost panicked. 
“Ron, maybe you should just-“ Bill began to suggest. 
“Upstairs, second door on your right.” Hugo said with a groggy voice. 
The ginger nodded and took off, not noticing Jean throw her husband a funny look at the instructions. Instead, he just heard Bill’s soft voice floating through the room as he told the Granger’s of the measures the order had been taking. 
Ron climbed the steps two at time before being met by a long hallway with identical white doors. Spotting the second door to his right, he frantically pushed it open, ready to collapse atop the toilet lid. 
But instead he was met by a different sight. 
Blue walls. A large bookshelf tucked in the corner. Parchment stacked neatly atop a desk. Next to it was a Muggle chessboard. Pictures stuffed and tacked onto a board. And the smell. 
Roses. Lemon. Ink. 
The same thing he smelt in the Amortentia earlier in the year. 
It was all so Hermione. It was consuming his senses too much, too fast. And without even realizing what he was doing, he doubled onto her bed, silently crying. 
“I thought you might need this more than the loo.” A voice sounded from the door. 
Immediately Ron jumped to his feet, feeling like he'd done something wrong. 
“Relax Ron, I sent you here for a reason.” Mister Granger eased, moving to sit in the chair at Hermione’s desk, motioning for the boy to sit back down. 
“I’m so sorry Mister Granger, this is all my fault,” he started shaking his head. 
“I don’t believe that Ron.” He said strongly. 
The ginger shook his head fiercely, “you should. You don’t understand how much I’ve hurt her,” too many things come to mind. Lavender. The Yule Ball. Crookshanks. Scabbers. Trolls. “I could’ve done better.” He wiped at his eyes with the backs of his wrists. 
“You think I don’t blame myself for this too?” He asked a little harshly, “I get it,” he began softer, “you loved my daughter didn’t you?” He asks knowingly. 
“No.” Ron’s voice was so strong, it even startled him. “I love her.” He clarified, “Don’t talk about her like she’s gone. Like she’ll never know.” 
Hugo nodded slowly, but said nothing for a few minutes, letting Ron take in Hermione’s room with blurry eyes instead. 
“I want to understand Ron.” His voice broke the air, “I wish my daughter hadn’t lied to me. Jean and I suspected something but didn’t push it. But I need to know if there’s even something that can help. Please Ron.” He begged. 
Ron, Harry, and Bill had skimmed the surface of the chaos that has been their last six years at Hogwarts. And Ron knew more details on Hermione specifically then the other two, Mister Granger sensed as much. 
And Ron sensed the desperation in his eyes, the same look he’s been wearing for weeks. Even before Hermione was gone. When his biggest problem was chucking Lavender Brown cause he had missed her so much. 
Thoughtfully, his blue eyes found the untouched chess set. He pushed down the warmth in his chest at the thought of Hermione practicing just so she could match him. He didn’t have time to harp on it. 
“Mister Granger, have you ever played chess?” He asked, a brilliant idea forming in his head.
...
Hugo Granger pondered over the chess board carefully, studying the pieces as he placed them on the respective squares. 
“So my daughter is your queen?” He asked as Ron used tape to secure the parchment onto the white queen. 
Ron momentarily stopped what he was doing and opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air, “Er, what? I don’t know.” He fumbled. 
“The chess piece Ron, Hermione she’s the queen, is she not?” He asked, a little amused. 
“Oh,” he said, relieved , then suddenly realized he didn’t answer the question, “oh yeah, well I reckon it fits.” He says a little nervously. 
Ron was playing white and Mister Granger was black. 
You-Know-Who and Harry were the kings respectively. Hermione was the queen, while Bellatrix Lestrange was on her side. Ron made himself the knight, the protector, he felt a bit awkward about it, but he figured it would be worse if he had just written himself off. Then Hermione’s dad was sure to think he’s useless. In turn, Greyback was the knight, he debated over Malfoy, but settled on making him bishop. 
He also debated putting Draco’s name down as well, but settled for just the last name representing him and his father. Draco wasn’t guilty of anything but being a poncy pureblood prat. Well for now. 
Dumbledore was the other bishop, both ready to take over if their kings fell. The rook’s were just labeled ‘Death Eaters’ and ‘The Order’, being both were to represent the Kingdoms walls per say. 
As for the pawns it included those who either lost their lives or were simple puppets. Sirius, Cedric, Quirinius Quirrell, Peter Pettigrew, Mad Eye, even Ginny due to second year. 
Anyone else important would just have to be mentioned along the way. 
“And this woman,” Hugo began lifting up his black queen, “she’s the one who took Hermione?” 
Ron simply gulped and supplied a weak nod. Like the younger man, talks of Hermione’s captor seemed to evoke pure sadness from Hugo Granger. 
Suddenly, guilt bubbled within Ron yet again, “we don’t have to do this.” He vaguely gestured to the chess board. 
“I want to,” he insisted, “but if it’s too much for you...”
The ginger repressed the urge to groan. This man really should not be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Not after all he’s done to his daughter. Even before this. 
“Look there’s something you should know.” Ron’s eyes quickly averted her fathers. 
Hugo’s eyes pierced his, silently encouraging him to continue. 
“Before Hermione,” he choked a little, “before she was taken, her and I, we weren’t speaking.” He admitted in a whisper, ashamed. 
“Why?” He asked. 
“Well, I think,” he didn’t know how to phrase it, he didn’t want to, “I know I hurt her. My sister says I broke her heart.” He trailed quietly. 
And then for the first time since he arrived here, Mister Granger’s face was painted with red hot fury. Fists clenched so hard they turned white. 
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He told the man quickly. 
“Did my Hermione know that? That you’re sorry?” Hugo all but grunted. 
“No, I never got the chance to tell her.” It took almost everything out of Weasley not to cry. 
A few moments passed, but to Ron it felt like a lifetime. Eventually, Mister Granger seemed to lessen his rage and took a deep breath. 
“I don’t blame you Ron.” He began honestly, “I don’t blame you that those people took Hermione. I may not have known everything about my daughter, but I do know her and I know how much she cares about you.” Hermione’s father pauses, “and I know you know as much too, so I just want to ask you why?” 
And Ron knew what the ‘why?’ was for. Why would he hurt her knowing how much she cared. And for that, he doesn’t really have an answer, not a good one anyway. Nothing he can even justify to himself. 
The only thing that resonates is something he told Harry before all this, before Hermione was gone. 
“How can you love someone so much and hurt them so bad?” 
And he doesn’t know. Now more than ever. His mind is just constantly consumed with guilt, sadness, and anger. All directed at him or occasionally, Bellatrix and the rest of You-Know-Who’s followers. 
“I can’t answer that.” Ron tells him, “there’s no reason that could make it right. If I had known what would-“ a bile rose in his throat. 
“I know that Ron.” The man says softly, “I know that she knew too.” 
“Knows.” He blurted out before he could help it. 
Awkwardly, Hugo clears his throat, choosing not to acknowledge the outburst, “of course she knows.” He subtly corrects, “and I want to hear about what happened this year, but maybe we should start from the beginning?” He suggested pointing weakly to the board. 
Nodding slowly, Ron cleared his throat and thought for a moment before picking up the piece representing Harry. 
“I reckon a lot of this starts around Halloween first year. Do you know anything about Mountain Trolls...”
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jihyuncompass · 4 years ago
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Domesticity
I couldn’t come up for a creative name, but here is my Day Two Entry for @mysmeweek2020! This one is about Saeran (because all I want is for him to be happy)
Mysme Week 2020 Day Two
Domesticity
Saeran Choi x MC 
Word Count: 2.1K
Summary: Days with Saeran came in three types. Today was one of the good ones.
Daily life with Saeran could be divided up into three different types. The good days, which happened once in a while, the bad days, which occurred less frequently then they used too, and then most commonly the just okay days, neither really good or bad. Just okay. 
A gentle alarm woke the two of you up. Warm daylight already coming in from behind the drawn curtains. You woke up first, reaching over to hit the off button, you both hated having an alarm in the mornings but Saeran’s therapist insisted that a regular and healthy sleep schedule was necessary for his recovery. So as much as you both hated it, you also both agreed that it was for the best. 
Turning over you saw your boyfriend lying next to you. His sleeping face relaxed and peaceful. He must not be having a nightmare if he looks that calm. 
“Saeran, angel it’s time to get up.” Running a gentle hand across his face and neck you tried to wake him up. After a few moments you saw his eyes open a little. He blinked and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning.” You said, he rolled onto his side to lie face to face with you. 
“Morning.” He said, his voice gruff from sleep. 
“How’d you sleep?” You took his hand in yours.
“M’kay, no nightmares.”
“That’s good, do you want me to cook breakfast?” He shook his head. 
“No, I’ll do it.” He brought your hand clasped in his closer so he could kiss the back of it. 
“I can cook for you once in a while y’know.” You told him, a sweet smile crossed his lips. 
“But I like to cook for you. It makes me feel happy to cook things you like.” He leaned forward to give you a peck on the lips. A content look on your face you watched him drag himself out of bed. Bleached hair sticking up in every direction, some red roots were starting to show. 
You got up a few minutes later, taking a moment to use the bathroom and brush your teeth. After which you went back into the bedroom to get dressed, at this point you could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Dressing yourself quickly you joined him in the kitchen. 
Together the two of you sat on the couch while you ate your breakfast.. As usual Saeran’s cooking was incredible. Cooking and baking were hobbies he had picked up after leaving Mint Eye, quickly they became some of his favorite things to do. And like his hacking skills his cooking was precise and masterful. Keeping an eye on the clock you gathered the dishes to wash so Saeran could get dressed. By the time you finished with all of the dishes, placing them in the disrack to dry, Saeran emerged from the bedroom dressed to go out. 
The walk to Saeran’s therapist’s office wasn’t too bad. It was nice and not too long, You held hands as you passed people on the street going about their days. Saeran kept his eyes focused on the ground. Being out around people still made him nervous but on his better days he could be around people for a little while without many issues. 
“Do you want me to hang out in the waiting room?” You asked him. The first few months of therapy Saeran asked you to wait in the office for him so he could feel safe. He didn’t always need you to stay now but once in a while it made him feel more comfortable. 
“No. I’ll be fine. Thank you angel.” You smiled at his pet name for you, one of many. Squeezing his hand you nodded. 
“Okay, I’ll probably wander around some of the nearby stores. So I won’t be too far.” Saeran smiled just the littlest bit. Even if he didn’t need you to be with him, knowing that you were nearby still helped. 
Approaching the therapist’s office you bid him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek. After he was inside you waited a moment in case he changed his mind and wanted you to come, but when he didn’t come back you slowly moved away from the building. 
Choosing a bookstore a block away you went there to spend your hour. You’d been here a few times on similar excursions but you never spent a significant amount of time actually looking around at the shelves. You wandered around pulling books out to look at. 
You stopped when you came across a book with a bouquet of flowers on the cover. Pulling a book from the shelf you realized that it was a guide to flowers and their meanings. Flipping through the pages the book included watercolor illustrations of hundreds of flowers along with their meanings and messages. Some even included famous poems that mention those flowers. Reading through the pages you think of Saeran’s garden behind your house. You hold the book close to your chest and decide that it would be the perfect gift for your boyfriend. 
An hour passed in no time and soon you were back waiting in front of the therapist’s office. The book tucked into your bag as you watched people as they walked past you. 
Hearing Saeran’s voice you turned as he walked out, you smiled at him and reached out to take his hand. A ghost of a smile crossed his face. After his therapy appointments he tended to be a bit overwhelmed and withdrawn, so you gently led him home. Not speaking too much to let him think, if he wanted to talk he would. Today he just held onto your hand and stayed quiet, a thoughtful expression on his face. 
Back home he quickly changed into his gardening clothes. You went into the room you used as your home office, sitting in front of a window that overlooked the garden. You could see Saeran working, tending to each plant carefully. Pulling weeds from the dirt and watering each flower with careful precision. 
Months ago you convinced Saeran that he should try growing fruits and vegetables along with his flowers. Since he loved cooking and gardening so much the idea of having his own produce to cook with was a good idea for him. He took to it well and each one of his plants grew the most delicious produce you ever had in your life. 
You worked at your desk, sparing a few glances up to Saeran as he focused on his work. He looked so calm out there, his garden was truly his happy place. 
In the afternoon you took a break from your work to make some lunch. Putting together a quick sandwich and glass of lemonade you stepped outside to where Saeran was working. 
“Sae!” You called out. “I made you some lunch, I’m going to leave it right here for you!” Motioning to the plate Saeran smiled at you and nodded. You watched him for a moment as he continued to work before slipping back inside and into your office, with your own lunch in your hand. 
Working for a few more hours you watched Saeran move onto harvesting the ripe fruits and veggies. Piling them into bowls he grabbed from the kitchen, watching him work, in a place that made him so happy made your heart soar. He just seemed so comfortable out there. 
Evening came quickly and when you finally glanced up from your work and didn’t see Saeran outside anymore. He must have come back inside at some point when you were invested in your work. Standing from your chair you felt your knees pop, you must have been sitting for quite a while by this point. 
You found your boyfriend in the kitchen. His hair is still a tad wet from a shower he must have taken a while ago. Warm smells surrounded you as Saeran leaned over the stove, stirring the contents of a pot. He noticed your presence quickly by shooting you a quick glance, you smiled walking up next to him. 
“This smells amazing, Saeran, have you made this before?” You glanced into the pot. 
“No it’s a new recipe for Budae Jjigae. I haven’t had a chance to try this recipe before.” He leaned over to smell the contents of the pot. “I think it’s almost done, if you want to sit down I’ll bring it to you.” Stepping away you sat down at your small dining table noticing the new flowers he had put in the vase to replace the ones from a few days ago. They had the lightest of fragrances, sweet but not overpowering. Good for a dinner table. 
Dinner for the two of you was perfect, the stew was a mixture of spicy and savory. It warmed your stomach with its flavors and warmed your heart with the care that it was prepared with. You and Saeran talked as you ate, you asked about his garden while he asked about your work. The conversations were nice, simple but comforting. 
Saeran brought you the dessert he prepared, a strawberry shortcake with fresh grown strawberries and cream. You dug into your individual slices, The cake was light and sweet and the strawberries sweet with the slightest bit of sourness to them that was balanced out by the cream. Each bite tasted like heaven, and you had to force yourself to eat it slowly and fully enjoy it. Saeran watched you eat, gauging your reaction. You made an effort to show just how much you were enjoying it, this seemed to satisfy him a small smile tugging at his mouth. 
Tonight you washed the dinner dishes together. You scrubbed each dish clean while Saeran rinsed and dried each one. This task was spent in relative silence, Saeran wasn’t one for a lot of words but he didn’t need to speak for you to tell how he was feeling or what he was thinking. 
Once the last dish was clean you remembered the book you had gotten for him earlier in the day. You excused yourself for one moment to go grab it, returning with the book hidden behind your back. Saeran gave you a funny look as you walked back up to him. 
“While you were at your appointment I went into this bookstore and found something I thought you would like.” You held the book out in front of you so he could see it. His eyes widened taking the book and running his fingers over the cover. 
“Thank you,” He stepped forward to kiss you, his lips still holding onto the sweetness from the strawberries. His kiss was soft, and thoughtful. He pulled away after a few too short moments and opened the book to the first page to start at the beginning. 
Your later evenings together were always rather peaceful, sometimes if you both had the energy you would go out for a walk together. Spending the last few hours of daylight in nature. Tonight however neither of you had the energy or desire to go out, so the two of you settled for sitting in bed while Saeran read from his new book. You watched him lazily, your eyes were starting to grow heavy and staying awake was becoming more and more of a challenge. 
Saeran stayed focused on his book, he wasn’t one to mark up the pages so instead he put sticky notes on pages that he thought were significant. You rolled over to look at the clock, it was about time for the two of you to actually try and go to sleep. You rolled over and put a hand on Saeran’s forearm. 
“My love.” Saeran pulled his eyes away from his book to meet your eyes. 
“Time to sleep?” You nodded. He put the book on the night table next to him, sinking down to lie flat. You reached over on your side to turn off the lamp you were using for light. The room going dark, with only the moonlight able to enter the bedroom. 
Grasping around you felt Saeran’s arm find your hip bringing himself closer to you. Matching his movements you put an arm around his torso. Holding on another you could feel yourself drifting off the sleep. Halfway asleep you felt Saeran leave a soft and sleepy kiss on your lips. 
“Goodnight princess.” He whispered, in your half conscious state you smiled, whispering back to him. 
“Goodnight, my sweet prince.” You heard a content hum come from Saeran and holding him close you both fell asleep, after a good day for the both of you. 
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ravenforce · 4 years ago
Text
Manhattan 8
Word Count: 4557
A/N: Hi! I’m alive. I’m so sorry it took so long for me to write again but here I am. Anyway, I hope you guys are still practicing social distancing and still following the safety protocols wherever you are. Stay safe and healthy, y’all. Let me know what you think of this. I only proofread this once, so have mercy on me. xx
Summary: Definitely not what you asked for. :)
Parts: 1 |  2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 9
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*** 
“Lou?” 
The Heist crew looked at each other across the board room while Lou just continues to stare blankly out the tall window, unable to hear anyone around her. It’s the time of the year again. The anniversary of the day Lou lost you.
“Lou?” Debbie tried to get her attention by standing directly at her line of sight. 
Lou blinked twice before looking up at Debbie. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath and sat up straighter. “Sorry, I was elsewhere.”
“We were just asking if you’re ready with the marketing of this joint exhibit with Selene Quaid?” 
“Yes but we’re still waiting for Quaid and her team’s feedback about the graphics,” Lou assured her best friend with a smile. 
Debbie stared at her for a couple of seconds before nodding and turning back to the whole team. Lou didn’t dare look back to her friends in fear to see them pitying her for being unable to move on after two years now. Yes, it’s been two years since she thought walking away would be easy but it was far from it. It was agonizing and physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. Especially when she thought seeing you, even from afar, would ease the pain but didn’t.
For the first few months after you left, Lou made secret trips every weekend to visit Tate and hopefully catch a glimpse of you. At first, she was elated to see you thriving; the museum is indeed your natural habitat but as time goes by, it hurts even more because she misses you tremendously. She misses sharing life with you, that’s why it pains her to see you living one that she can’t be a part of. She owns the pain, she knows she brought it upon herself. So, she sucked it up. 
Until she got an intervention. 
“You thought we didn’t know? You’re always away on the weekends. You’re not on Ithaca, and you’re not with your brothers,” Debbie says gently as they sit Lou on their board room. Her brothers were in attendance too. 
“Rats,” she hissed while looking at Thor and Loki who was leaning against the far wall. 
Her friends chuckled. “They didn’t snitch on you. Nine found your trail.”
She whipped her head back to her friends, eyes wide in surprise. “What?”
“You didn’t give us any choice,” Tammy said while playing at the ends of her blonde hair. A telltale sign that she’s nervous. “You won’t talk to us.” 
“That didn’t give you the right to hack my email though.”
Lou crossed her arms across her chest. Daphne chuckled at the childish pout on their friend’s face. 
“This can’t go on forever, Lou,” Daphne said. “When’s the last time you spent time with us?” Daphne gestured to everyone in the room. “With your brothers?” 
Lou caught her brother’s eyes and suddenly she felt a wave of guilt. “We need you here too,” Thor says sincerely. “We all do.” 
Loki nodded. “We know you love her. We know that she loves you too. She wouldn’t want this for you.” Loki admonished. “You said you did what you did because you didn’t want Y/N to spread herself thin for you. Well, guess what, as her friend, we know she wouldn’t want this for you too.”
She admits it. Flying back and forth every week was taking a toll on her. So, she relented to visiting Tate at least two times a month. Until it became once a month, then just whenever she’s free or whenever missing you get so intense.
She knew she couldn’t put her life on hold forever. 
She knew she can’t just sit around and mope, and wait for you to come home. 
***
With the joint exhibit happening in five days, everyone was legit on their toes with everything that needs to be done. The whole office was buzzing with activity the moment Lou walked in at 8 in the morning. Agatha just put the box of breakfast pastries down the one table where everyone likes to work even though they all have designated desks when she walked in.
“Good morning Lou,” Agatha greeted with a smile before handing her, her favourite coffee.
“Morning.” She smiled back before glancing towards Debbie who’s pacing back and forth inside her glass office. “What’s wrong?”
“Debbie’s frustrated that Quaid still hasn’t approved Daphne’s marketing collateral.”
“Has anyone spoken with Quaid?” She asked pensively.
“Yes. Quaid’s secretary said someone will be coming over to represent her,” Tammy answered, rolling her chair away from her computer. Before she can respond though, Charlie entered the room at the same time Debbie exited her office.
“What is it, Charlie?” Debbie asked, immediately picking up on Charlie’s excited demeanour.
“Quaid’s representative is outside,” he responded with a broad smile.
Everyone raised their eyebrow at him. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let them in,” Daphne sassed.
“She picked up a call but will be with us right about -” Charlie paused. The door to the office opened. “Now.”
And to everyone’s surprise, you walked in.
***
A collective gasped was heard across the room before silence swept through it. You looked at Charlie who has already recovered from his shock at seeing you again after two long years. You turned back to everyone before smiling.
“Hey.” You greeted. Lou’s heart skipped a beat and ached at the same time. Your voice shook everyone out of their reverie, making everyone simultaneously yell your name in excitement and gather around you.
Nine was the first to reach you and almost tackle you down in a tight hug. “Y/N!” she yelled as she wraps her arms around you tightly. “Oh! My! God! I can’t believe you’re here!”
Daphne, Debbie, and Rose, who weren’t much of a hugger just sidled next to you. “You look all grown up, Y/L/N.” Debbie noticed. Of course, she’ll still be too cool to give direct compliments. You smiled your thanks.
“You were cute before in your graphic tees and distressed jeans. Now, you definitely look -” Daphne stopped to consider her next words.
Nine pulled away from you to look at you a once over. “Hot! Definitely fucking hot, if you asked me” she finished for Daphne making the brunette roll her eyes at Nine’s choice of language.
“Good thing no one asked you,” Constance teased before coming over to give you a short hug, and a whispered ‘I missed you.’
You laughed at their antics but it was shortly interrupted by Rose’s hand touching the sleeve of your suit.
“Are these custom-made, darling?” She asked before she can help herself.
“Missed you too, Rose.” You teased. Rose looked at you wide-eyed and with a soft blush tainting her cheeks.
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to seem more interested in your clothes -” she stuttered out. “-I missed you too, darling.”
“I’m joking, Rose.” You laughed. “And to answer your question, yes, the suit is custom made. I can’t really work in the museum wearing graphic tees, tattered jeans and converse. At least, not all the time.”
Tammy nearly cried before she could have a turn in wrapping you in her arms again. She still feels the warmest, her golden hair are still soft, and she still smell like fresh waffles in the morning. “Oh, are you still my baby?” Tammy wailed, cupping your cheeks and looking at you intently.
You can’t help but get teary-eyed too. You chuckled before nodding at Tammy’s question. “I am,” you said before you launched yourself at her. Aside from Nine and Lou, you’re closest with Tammy too. “I missed you so much, Tams.”
“I missed you so much, too, baby.” Tammy held you a little tighter. Amita who was behind Tammy took a closer look at you from the blonde’s shoulder.
“You look so different, Y/N,” Amita said before raising her hand for a fist bump. You were just about to raise your hand and tap Amita’s fist with yours when Lou’s voice cut through everything that’s been happening around you.
“I don’t think so. I think she looks the same.” Lou’s not looking at you but on her boots. “She’s still breathtaking though.”
Tammy let go of you so you can look at the blonde properly. Everyone held their breath in anticipation. This is, after all, the first time you’re seeing each other after all the mess that went down years prior.
You walked up to your ex-girlfriend. “Say it to my face, if you mean it.” Lou looked up at you in surprise.
“I-” She chewed her bottom lip. “-didn’t mean to say it out loud.” She looked uncharacteristically nervous. “But I do mean it. You look as beautiful as the day I met you.”
You didn’t say anything for a minute, making Lou’s heart almost jumped out of her ribcage. After a long pause, you smiled genuinely at her and opened your arms for a hug. To say that Lou was surprised was an understatement. She thought you would hate her for what she did but there you were opening your arms again for her.
She didn’t have to be asked twice, she stepped towards you and hugged your body close to her. She had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from sobbing. It’s been so long since she felt home.
***
Lou rolled out of her bed an hour before her alarm clock hits. She smiled at the ceiling before rolling out of bed and making her way to her open kitchen. She went directly to her coffee maker. She was humming softly while measuring coffee grinds for her morning rations when someone spoke from her couch. 
“Isn’t it a little too early to be this chirpy?” Nine groaned before burying her head on the pillow Lou lent her.
Lou nearly spilt the grounds over the counter in her surprise. She literally forgot that Nine and Tammy slept over to help finish some preparations for the meeting with you. Tammy stood up and stretched before walking up to Lou with a smile.
“Don’t take it personally. She’s never a morning person.” 
“Coffee?” Lou asked with a soft smile and a light blush adorning her cheek. 
“Yes, please.” Tammy sat on the stool by the counter and watched Lou’s back. “Are we having breakfast here or shall we have the kids (Agatha and Charlie) pick up some before heading to the office?”
Lou bit her bottom lip as she thinks about her options. She opened her fridge and studied the contents of it. “Well, I have enough ingredients for your packed breakfasts, if you want to cook.” 
Tammy immediately perked up at that. “Yes, please. I’ll make Y/N’s favourites.” 
Lou smiled and nodded, just in time for the coffee maker to finish brewing. She got a mug of black coffee before turning towards Tammy who was already opening her cupboards for everything that she’ll need.
“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair then.” Lou knows better to stay away from the kitchen when Tammy’s cooking. The woman prefers cooking alone as she knows that their crew tends to leave a bigger mess when they’re trying to help. 
Tammy just smiled and shooed her away. Nine walked in the open kitchen right when Lou seated at the balcony of her apartment. They both watched Lou with her eyes closed, face turned towards the early morning sun, and a soft smile on her face. 
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen her this -” Tammy paused, searching for the right word.
“Happy?” Nine tried to guess. Tammy shook her head lightly, watching Lou for another minute before she found the perfect word. 
“Alive.” 
***
Nine drove the three of them to work using Lou’s car. A testament of how good Lou must be feeling to let the tech girl drive her precious car. Lou just happily sat on the passenger seat, looking out of the window like she hasn’t lived in the city most of her adult life. 
“Nine-” Lou said without looking at the brunette. She just continued to survey the yellow taxi idle next to their car. 
“Yeah?” 
“Do you know if Y/N’s dating anyone?” 
Nine chuckled, Lou has been asking the same question at least every quarter of the year. Since Lou’s not on any social media platform, she didn’t have any means to watch over you. She told herself that making an Instagram account would be a violation of her efforts to move forward. She told herself it will also be futile since she’s sure you won’t let her follow you, as all your accounts are private. 
“You’ve asked this before and the answer is still the same.” Nine teased lightly before handing Lou her unlocked mobile phone. “Check for yourself. The girl still flies under the radar.” 
She scrolled through the endless apps installed in Nine’s phone before she found Instagram. She opened it and searched your handle through Nine’s following tab. True to her word, there’s really no sign that you’re romantically involved with someone.
Your feed is all travel photos, food crawls in your travel destinations, museums you’ve visited through London and other parts of Europe. There were also photos of your cosy apartment, and your pet cat but that’s it. One might say, there’s nothing juicy about it. You don’t even post selfies. Lou took one last quick scroll through your feed before she closed the app and handed Nine her phone back. 
“Thank you.” 
“No problem.” Nine grinned, eyes still trained out front. “So, what’s the plan?”
Lou scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion before turning her body slightly to address her friend. “What plan?”
Nine’s smile just got more mischievous. “The plan,” she said like Lou’s supposed to get it already. When Lou just kept giving her the confused look, she sighed. “What’s the plan to get Y/N back?” 
“Oh.” A quick look of worry and sadness passed through Lou’s face before she turned back to the city. “I don’t know, N. I feel like I don’t deserve her. Even more so now.” 
Nine frowned at that before she can speak though, Tammy kicked the back of Lou’s seat making her yelp. “What the hell, Tammy?” Lou yelled. 
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Tammy asked exasperated. 
“Exactly that. I mean, I don’t know.” Lou crossed her arms over her chest. 
“How about apologizing and telling her the truth that you never cheated on her?” Tammy mirrored Lou’s position: arms crossed and frowning deeply.
“What does it matter now? It’s been long overdue.” 
“Better late than never, L.” Nine glanced at her while waiting for the traffic light to turn green. 
“It won’t erase what you did but if you want her back, I think coming clean is the first step,” Tammy whispered.
***
Lou resolved to take her friends advice and apologize even though she thinks its overdue. It turns out apologizing wasn’t going to be the problem, it’s actually getting you alone for more than two minutes is. The moment they stepped into the gallery, it seems like everyone gravitate towards you. Besides that, you were also laser focus on everything that needs to be done for opening night that she finds it hard to approach you in fear of disturbing you.
Days passed in a blur of meetings, site inspections, and generally making sure that everything is on point for the event that Lou barely noticed that she still hasn’t had any alone time with you until it was opening night. You arrived at the same time everyone from the Heist was supposed to check in even though you’re technically not their employee anymore. You walked in wearing an elegant black dress with matching black heels.
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 “Everything is going as planned outside. Security is already in their positions, and I just saw a few VIP cars parking upfront,” you said in place of a greeting while tapping away at your phone. “Deb you might need to get your pretty ass upfront and welcome the guests.”
When only silence follows, you looked up to find every single one of your friends is gaping at you.
”I’m sorry is there something in -”
“You look beautiful,” Lou whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. You looked straight at the blonde’s blue eyes and smirked at her. “I mean -”
“Thanks, Lou.” You cut her off. “You look great too.”
A soft blush tinted Lou’s cheeks. Constance cleared her throat. “Ugh. I hate to interrupt this flirt fest but the guests are coming,” she said before nodding towards the door.
True to Constance words, invited guests started pouring in prompting everyone into action to receive them.
***
The rented space for the event was significantly bigger than the gallery but it’s still packed with art enthusiasts from all walks of life. Selene Quaid’s name plastered in every printed and digital marketing collateral does bring in the people. She’s like the sun, and everyone’s Icarus who doesn’t care if they burn just to be near her. About an hour into the event and there’s still no sign of the woman, which Lou knows because she’s been at the bar surveying the crowd all night.
She just downed her first glass of champagne when you plopped down on the stool next to her and ordered yourself a drink.
“Tequila? This early?” Lou asked after you downed your first shot.
“Yeah.” You downed another shot.
Lou crinkled her eyebrows together. “What’s wrong?”
You downed your last shot before turning towards your ex-girlfriend. “Selene’s late. Again. You know how tardiness makes me anxious.”
Lou nodded because she does remember the two of your discussing the issue before that’s why she made it a point never to be late in any of your dates in the past. “I’m sure she’s on the way.”
You just hummed in acknowledgement before swivelling the rest of your stool to face the buzzing crowd. Lou can’t help but study the side profile of your face. 
“Lou, you’re staring.���
“I can’t help it.” She whispered loud enough for only you to hear. “I just can’t believe you’re here and talking to me.”
You glanced at her and smiled. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You said before turning back to watch the door.
“Yes, and it may be overdue but I’m sorry for what I did.” Lou’s voice cracked as she tries to reign in her emotions.
You fully turn your attention to her then. “Lou, I’ve for-”
“No before you say that. I need you to know that truth,” she cut you off.
You nodded to prompt her to continue. “I never cheated on you,” she muttered with conviction. You searched her face for a hint of a lie but you can’t find any. “I did lie to you though.”
“Explain,” you said after flagging the waiter for another round of shots. You feel like you might need it with how serious Lou is.
Lou looked so guilty and sad when you faced her again. “I didn’t think you would ever take the job at Tate if you were with me. So I asked Therese to pretend that we were fooling around behind your back.”
You gripped the edge of the counter, as you digest that new information. Lou can see the unshed tears starting to gather in your eyes and she wanted nothing more but to reach out and pull you to her but you were gritting your teeth and she knew your habits very well.
“I’m sorry,” Lou repeated.
You downed 1 out of your 3 tequila shots. “That wasn’t your call,” you whispered angrily at her. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I had to do, not quitting the program to go back and beg you to choose me was the next.”
“I’m sorry.” Lou apologizing again is just making you angrier by the minute. You throw back your second shot.
“We could have made it work. I could have flown to you every Friday night. It’s just a 7-hour flight.” You downed your last tequila shot, ignoring the burn in your throat and almost slamming the glass down on the bar had you not remembered you two are supposed to be working.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Lou tried to reach for your hand but you yanked it away from her.
“You never gave me a chance,” you spat. Lou shook her head.
“You never gave us a chance. 
***
Lou wanted to defend her decision but she was cut off when the rest of the Heist crew bounded happily to the bar.
“There you are!” Nine declared enthusiastically. You made a subtle attempt to dab the tears in your eyes before turning to your friends.
“What’s up?” You answered over-enthusiastically.
“Someone’s been looking for you,” Amita quipped.
Before you can ask who, Selene Quaid reached the bar with Rose. When she looked up and saw you, she immediately halted her conversation with the fashion designer and excused herself to come to you.
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“Hey.” Selene greeted, scratching at the back of her neck. “You look fantastic.”
“You’re late,” you ignored the compliment and admonished the brunette, which surprised everyone. No one gets to tell Selene Quiad what to do. She goes places and does things in her own pace and time.
“I’m sorry.” Selene cupped your right cheek with her right hand. She looked genuinely remorseful. “I’ll make it up to you.”
You smiled softly, leaning into Selene’s touch as it temporarily soothes the ache from your previous conversation with Lou. “You better,” you said smiling.
Selene took it as a sign that she’s forgiven. Smiling broadly before stepping closer and pulling you into a soft, brief kiss that took Lou’s breath away. Just like that, Lou’s dream of getting you back was shuttered in a million tiny pieces right in front of her eyes.
It’s too late.
She’s too late.
Taglist:  @kaytoopio @marvelfansince08love @marvelb00kwolf @shycucumbersandwich @subject7creed @theprassebox​ @confessionsofawritingdork​ @gaytrashgoblin​ @cup-of-stars​
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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago
Text
Blood Red Heat prt 39
Lance was wild. How someone could operate semi-humanly while hacking his lungs up was going to be his omega’s new defining moment. Mornings had never been Lance’s best friend, nor Keith’s, but it seemed to be time they both woke up with the need to touch each other... Then, as Lance had improved, they’d done less touching and more “Lance dragging him from Red to go for a morning walk with Kosmo, despite the chill in the air leaving the omega coughing”. They had the same problem at night. Lance would want to sit up with the pack, but the cold air aggravated his lungs.
The pack had been really good with him. When Pidge started tinkering with her comms, she actually took the time to explain what she was doing to Lance. When Hunk needed to collect herbs, he invited Lance along, given their walks were never as far as Lance insisted on going in the mornings. Their first walk had been to Black, the closest of the five lions to Red. Lance could now make to Green before needing to rest, then Yellow. Yellow was the limit, the first time he’d had to support Lance back, because his omega didn’t want to be carried. Allura let Lance play with her hair, then Romelle asked him to do her hair too... Krolia was still a challenge, his mother trying to talk to Lance had ended up with Lance kind of squeaking, and apologising for being ill. When his mother hugged Lance, Lance turned red as he held his breath, Keith choosing not to save him immediately because with Lance being a permanent addition to their family, he had to learn to cope with Krolia sooner rather than later.
Shiro took a little longer to warm back up to. Lance wanted to be close to him, but sometimes he couldn’t find the right words, so would move closer to Keith for comfort. His brother seriously fearing Lance didn’t like him anymore, until Lance finally found the words to explain he sometimes got a bit overwhelmed and confused as he wasn’t used to having his omega talking to him. Keith getting jealous when their little sign for this would be Lance holding onto Shiro’s hand or leg. When they were alone, Lance could articulate most of what he wanted to say, but there were clear signs he’d forget or get muddled when he really tried to concentrate on anything for longer than a few minutes. Coran seemed to think it was all exhaustion and would work its self out slowly as Lance began being able to stay awake longer and longer.
Then Lance went and surprised him. Krolia had started teasing him over how lazy he’d become. When Keith had sent his boyfriend a pleading look, Lance had waved him off to train with his mother and Kosmo. His mother was mercilessly. Training felt good after being so stagnant, but every muscle throbbed as he dragged himself into Black to shower and change. Black laughing at his exhaustion, always his biggest supporter right there. Unintentionally he’d kind of fallen asleep on his bed, his bed so inviting after being made to run laps around all 5 lions... the lions were massive... and life wasn’t fair.
Panicking hard over falling asleep, he’d rushed outside to find the sun had set. Jogging into camp to find Lance and apologise his arse off for not being there for him, Hunk tricked him. Playing up that Lance needed alone time, he sent him running off to find Lance who’d “wandered away from camp and refused to come back”. Their friends were wankers. Lance had wandered away from camp, to set up a picnic for the pair of them. Sitting on the blanket with Kosmo, the space was lit with two emergency lights. Keith not knowing he was walking into a picnic until he’d come to the edge of the blanket
“Babe?”
Staring up at the night sky, Lance shifted his gaze to him, smiling up in a way that went straight to Keith’s heart
“Hey, you”
“Hey, yourself. Been here long?”
“A little while. Come sit down next to me”
Sitting beside Lance, Lance moved the blankets he had around his shoulders to cover both their shoulders, Kosmo whining disinterestedly at his arrival. Lance didn’t seem overly sad. There was nothing in his scent that pointed to him being upset
“Hunk said you’d wandered off wanting to be alone”
“That’s because I asked him to. I’m sorry, you would have worried, but I wanted to do something nice for you. It’s not much in the way of dinner, and it’s cold now, I thought a picnic under the stars would be nice”
Keith couldn’t quite believe it
“You... organised something for me?”
“Yeah. The others helped, before you tell me off for pushing myself. I know caring for a person is hard and I wanted to show that I appreciate you”
Smiling at him so sincerely, Lance was the prettiest omega he’d ever met
“You didn’t have to”
“I wanted to. Hunk helped me cook. And I had a nap earlier while you were sleeping so I’d be awake enough to do this tonight”
“Babe... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash out”
“You needed it. I saw how hard Krolia pushed you today”
His mother’s hard training now made sense
“Why am I now getting the feeling she was in on this?”
“Because she was. No big surprise, but it’s soup again. And some herbs that are meant to resemble a salad”
“No meat?”
Lance elbowed him softly in the side
“No. If there were chickens I could have cut and gutted one, but there wasn’t”
Keith was instantly in awe. Living on space whale he’d had to learn how to catch and kill animals to break the monotony of plant based dinners, Krolia had to teach him more than he’d ever wanted to know
“You know how to do that?”
“I come from a farming family. How do you think I knew how to milk a cow?”
“That’s... fair. You didn’t have to do anything special for me”
“I did and I do. Sick Lance is kind of an arsehole”
“Nah, not an arsehole. I will give you that you’re stubborn”
Lance sighed a sigh that Keith couldn’t quite place. Despite being happy, there was something there that tugged at him
“Babe?”
“Sorry. I was thinking about home before you came. You didn’t... okay, my home was always super super busy. Even if you were sick, you still helped out. If your hands were free, you’d fill them. That kind of thing”
Oh. He didn’t know what to say to that. Lance had a loving family from the sounds of everything he’d said
“That sounds...”
“Hard? Yeah. It was. There was a time I was really mad at my parents, but I’m over that. Anyway, you should eat”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to eat too. Hunk made me eat earlier, then Pidge let me nap against her...”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Romelle is totally becoming a bad arse too. Shiro was helping her and Allura train. Coran kept throwing in suggestions but they didn’t go well”
It sounded like Lance had had a good day without him. Keith feeling kind of lonely to have missed it, not that he’d say so. Lance needed his pack and they’d all finally stopped reapologising to each other
“So why under the stars?”
“I used to love watching the stars when I was a kid. My siblings and I would make up dumb stories, then my Mami would come yell at us all for being outside”
“Why do I feel like she had a lot to deal with?”
“She did. There was never a moment of peace at home in Cuba. Cousins and siblings and chores... and a son that didn’t confirm to the standards of being an omega”
“That’s not on you. That’s no more your fault than... well, anything”
Lance chuckled as he snuggled close
“You’ve gotten better with your words, but it’s reassuring that you’re still you under all that rugged and grizzled appearance”
“I didn’t ask to grow up”
“I know. I know that it would have been hard, even with a mission to preoccupy yourself with. We’ll throw it on the therapy pile how insecure I am about my looks when my alpha is smoking hot”
“Says you”
“Dude, literally, have you seen yourself in a mirror? Omegas and betas are going to be queuing up just to catch a glance of Voltron’s sexy leader”
“Leaders, babe”
Lance hummed his disagreement, Keith kissing his boyfriend’s hair, using Lance’s words against him
“You really do have shockingly little faith in yourself”
“I look like a walking skeleton”
“Because you nearly died. I don’t care if you never have curves or whatever it is omegas think they need. As long as you’re healthy”
“Can I take a pass on going there right now? I don’t want to start wallowing over myself again when I want to spend the night out here with you”
“Fine, but only because it’s you”
“Thanks, babe. Anyway, let’s eat”
*
The soup really was cold. The salad a game of picking the herbs that didn’t taste awful on their own. Kosmo trying something that he obviously hated the taste of, his wolf taking off back towards the main camp as if he’d been betrayed. Pushing the remains of their dinner down the other end of the blanket, the pair of them laid next to each other under the stars, hand in hand
“Babe, how many stars do you think we’ve actually seen up close?”
“Me or you?”
“Either, either”
That was hard. They’d seen a lot of space, and yet they’d seen so very little of it
“No where near all of them?”
Lance’s snort told him he’d gotten the answer right. This was actually kind of nice, like way back when space hadn’t been all of this. When there were still mysteries out there that were mysteries and not an alarming gap in their intel
“Yeah... yeah, that’s true. Keith... do you wonder if maybe we’re still in the game?”
Rolling to his side, Keith leaned in to kiss Lance softly
“No. I did for a bit, but not anymore”
“I’ve been wondering why I’m taking all of this so calmly. We all apologised again, and I think I’m okay with that, but after so long... this kind of feels like a dream”
Keith bit back pointing out Lance hadn’t been all that calm when he’d been sicker
“We’ve got our second dynamics back, and I don’t know about your omega, but my alpha has been pretty nonstop”
“I don’t... my head feels busy. It feels weird...”
“Good weird or bad weird?”
“Both. Sometimes I feel ok and others I feel so on edge that it feels like everything will break”
“Depression and anxiety will do that to you. Plus, you need to cut yourself a break. You presented really late”
“I know. Maybe that’s why I keep wondering if this is all a dream?”
“I promise you it’s all very real. We’re here together”
Nosing into Lance’s cheek, his omega’s scent filled him with warmth. Reminding Keith he had another question to ask
“I know this is a bit late, but do you mind when I call you “omega”?”
“At first it kind of... didn’t feel right, but I can hardly deny it after spending your rut and my heat together”
“I’m sorry it was such a huge burden on your body”
“It’s okay. And... honestly, it did get better. You’re a kind alpha”
“I’m not so sure about that. I did get... rather... passionate”
Lance snorted again, tilting his head to kiss Keith’s cheek just short of his lips
“I am. You... were very good to me”
Keith sighed as he forced himself to roll back. Lance was very very tempting, more so than Pike
“You’re going to wake my alpha up again if we keep talking about sex”
“Maybe I want to...”
“Babe?”
This time Lance rolled to face him, his omega walking his fingers up Keith’s chest and bopping him lightly on the tip of his nose
“You... me... under the stars”
Keith wasn’t not interested, but he did wonder with all Lance’s questioning if this was a dream
“I thought you were recovering”
“I am. I also had a talk with Coran today too. He didn’t say rush into sex, but he did say that if I wanted to be intimate with you, that was my choice and it’s my body. He also went on and on about honour, and how you were a very honourable man... and how you reacted at the idea of me being knotted to save my life”
Keith had been furious and sick to his stomach at the thought that could be the only way
“I didn’t want to... not without your consent. You sound like you had a very busy day”
“I know. And kind of, but not really at the same time... I just... being in love with Allura was tiring. I couldn’t blame her for not loving me back, and I didn’t understand how... How I couldn’t be enough. On the other hand, you... These last few however long it’s been... it’s made me feel... infinity better. It’s... easy with you. I feel like... I’m waiting for your every word and to see what comes next for us. That makes me sound pretty pathetic”
Lifting their hands, Keith kissed the back of Lance’s
“I don’t think it does. I just honestly don’t want you to feel rushed or that I won’t be interested because we don’t have a super intense sex life. I want to do this right”
“I know you do... I hate the term “making love”... but I can’t think of how else to word it. I want to make love to you under all these stars before everything gets hectic again. I want to try to work harder on concentrate on making these small happy moments with you”
“I don’t want to aggravate your lungs...”
“Babe, my lungs will be a mess for a long time. Coran didn’t say it, but it could take months for everything to heal properly, if they ever do... If you treat me like glass every time I cough, I don’t think I can take it”
“I just... don’t want to lose you”
“Trust me, apparently I’m stubborn”
Keith kissed the back of Lance’s hand twice more
“You are very stubborn... I think I can be in the mood for a little romance”
“Mmm... why don’t you show me what you’ve got, samurai”
*
Laying Lance out under the stars, Keith wanted to do this right. Lance was a hopeless romantic. Absolutely hopeless and well known for his romantic heart. Lance smelt intoxicating, his natural musk mixing with his aroused hues. Kissing Lance’s inner thighs, the way the muscles jumped was adorable
“You okay, babe?”
“Yeah... just... very exposed”
Keith had stripped him down slowly, Lance’s shirt hadn’t made it easy, both of them smacking their foreheads against each other as the clumsily made their way through things. Kissing had lead to wandering hands, Lance making the sweetest little mews as Keith had slowly started to open him, as he hid his face against Keith’s shoulder
“I’m just as exposed, you know”
Covering his face, Lance mumbled into his hands. The emergency lights had been laid down to cut the amount of light, yet Keith knew if he could have seen it, Lance would be blushing
“But you’re so hot it’s not fair”
Smirking down at Lance, Keith teased him gently
“Oh, babe. You’ve got it bad for me, don’t you”
“Shut up”
Too cute. Lance was too cute. Did all alphas turn into such idiots when they found their omega?
The sex was slow, Keith tracing his hands over Lance soft skin, keeping his thrusts slow almost to the point of lazy, Lance’s scent grew sweeter and sweeter. It was nothing like sex with Pike, or the hard dirty sex they’d had when both their instincts were screaming to breed. Having marked Lance’s neck with plenty of possessive hickeys, his boyfriend smacked him when he started teasing his nipples. The tiny brow buds just the right size. Lance had fallen apart beneath him, the back of his hand against his mouth, though it didn’t stop the little moans and mews that Lance would give. Everything was so overwhelmingly intoxicating. The warm wetness of his boyfriend’s heat. The wet squelching noises each time be buried himself. The way Lance was so open and pliant for him. And the fact that other than him, and Darkstorm, no one else had laid hands on their beautiful omega. Lance’s ganglyness might turn other alphas away, but Keith knew how much work Lance put it into training. He knew he worked himself far more than anyone else, except for maybe him.
Moving his hand from his mouth to Keith’s shoulder, Lance whined softly
“Up...”
Keith stopping his thrust to leave himself buried deeply in his omega, so close to coming but wanting Lance to come first
“You want up?”
“I wanna cuddle”
“Okay, little omega”
Seating Lance in his lap, his omega cried out as he sank back down on Keith’s erection, Keith massaging Lance’s arse as he gave him a moment to adjust. With his arms wrapped around him, it was like they were only two beneath the blanket of stars above
“You okay, babe?”
“Mmm... I want it hard and fast”
So bossy...
Taking Lance by the hips, Keith let his control slip, moving Lance to meet each desperate thrust as his knot started forming
“Do you want my knot?”
“Please... alpha... I’m going crazy”
His pride swelled, his omega pleasured to the point of wanting his knot. Lance might not fall pregnant any time soon, but practicing was fun. Rolling his hips, they both moaned, Lance’s lips finding his, kisses clumsy as Keith thrust up over and over, knot flaring as Lance came with a heavy groan, his full weight driving Keith’s knot as deep as it’d go as his own orgasm painted his lovers insides with his seed. Biting on Lance’s shoulder, he’d very nearly bitten Lance’s neck, the amount of pleasure and joy he felt nearly forcing him to bond with his omega too soon.
Boneless and breathless, Lance nuzzled into his hair. Body shaking as Keith kept rutting through each slow burst of cum. Had Lance been able to fall pregnant, Keith was sure he’d pumped enough into knock him up. He’d never experienced anything like it a rut. Sure, he’d come a lot, but this was like a fucking volcanic eruption in comparison... and the way Lance rippled and squeezed... his body already trying for a pup of their own. Pups weren’t everything, and if the day came where Lance wanted a pup, Keith would do absolutely everything he could to make that dream happen.
With Lance firmly knotted, Keith hushed him as his knot jostled, the alpha reaching for a blanket to cover his loves cooling body. It’d do no good for Lance to catch a cold when he still had so far to go recovering. Kissing his hair, his omega hummed softly, a “thank you for the blanket” that he couldn’t find the words for
“Babe, are you okay?”
“Mmmm”
“My knot should go down soon... I’m sorry it puts so much strain on you”
His crotch was soaked from cum and slick, he’d probably regret it later, but that was for later Keith to deal with
“Mmm... ‘s ‘kay”
“You did so good, babe. So good for me”
“‘nly you”
“Yeah, babe. Only me”
They’d all apologised to each other, yet Keith still felt a burst of anger that their pack could think Lance would be sleeping around on diplomatic missions. It was the same kind of useless anger that he’d felt about leaving the team with Kuron. An anger he couldn’t do anything about, and an anger that would take a while to fade. Before they’d even been... close? Keith hadn’t thought Lance the type to sleep with just anyone, despite the “Nyma incident” and his omega’s chronic flirting. Lance was so damn faithful. He’d never do anything to risk negotiations or put their pack in danger. If Keith let himself think too much on it, he’d only grow angry at everything all over again.
Whining softly, Keith caught the hues of anger starting to bleed into his scent, upsetting Lance
“Shhh... it’s okay. My alphas just getting worked up at the idea of anyone daring to think they could hurt you”
Things were different for him. Lance had forgiven their pack, one by one, and as “Pike”. Yet his boyfriend had admitted he did feel moments of hurt and unsureness sometimes when he’d catch one of their pack out the corner of his eye. To Keith it was understandable. He wouldn’t have been mad with Lance if Lance hadn’t been able to accept the apology of their pack yet, yet Lance was so damn kind
“You won’t let ‘em”
“Nah, babe. They have to get through me first”
“Mmm... so damn dependable”
Tickling Lance’s side, the omega laughed tiredly, hissing when he tugged on Keith’s knot before settling his weight back against Keith
“Nooo... no tickling”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it”
“I know... You’ve got a case of “Roman Hands” and “Russian Fingers””
The reference went straight over Keith’s head
“If you say so”
“I do...”
“Okay”
Lance sighed at him, Keith kissing his hair. He knew he had a lot to learn, but being this open only felt right because Lance had shown him he’d be there for him. Right now Lance just needed a little propping up, but soon the omega would be back to being his right hand man and his stability. What started as mess of jealousy and mutual lashing out, had grown slowly, piece by piece, and now it’d morphed into something completely new and breath taking. Far more breath taking than the stars above.
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cuddlepilefics · 4 years ago
Text
Just a cough?
Fandom: Stray Kids
Sickie: Seungmin
Caregiver: Stray Kids
 Seungmin’s POV.:
A few days ago, during vocal lessons I had first noticed a tickle in my throat. I had tried to clear my throat but to no avail, the tickle remained. The more time passed, the tickle made me cough and I’ve been coughing ever since. It was confusing, since I didn’t feel sick at all, it was just the coughing. My members had already gotten concerned the day it had started, but they believed me that I felt fine aside from the coughing fits, I kept going through. Today my vocal teacher had sent me home earlier with the instructions to rest and to take it easy on my voice, obviously worried I’d come down with a cold. Instead of going back to the dorm however, I went to the 3racha studio. I wasn’t sick no matter what my teacher thinks, so resting and skipping out of work didn’t feel justified at all and was no option for me.
My three hyungs were very surprised when I knocked at the studio door but allowed me in anyways. “Aren’t you supposed to be at vocal lessons?”, Chan asked furrowing his brows. “I was, but the teacher didn’t believe me that I’m not sick and sent me home to rest. I tried to convince him that I feel fine but it was no use”, I replied frustrated. “Well, are you sick?”, Jisung questioned. “No! At least I don’t feel sick. Yeah, I keep coughing but that’s it. I’m completely fine otherwise.” – “It’s still possible that you’re coming down with something and you just don’t feel it yet.  If you don’t want to go home and rest, you could help us with some lyrics, so you don’t feel like you’re being unproductive. Though it’s fully up to you, you could also take advantage of getting some time off…”, Chan tried to comfort me. “Yeah, please let me help. Sitting out really doesn’t feel justified and if you’re right and I might get ill in a few days, I at least want to use the time now.” Chan nodded and pushed a stack of scribbled notes in front of me, explaining what they were working on.
But as it had been going all morning, I constantly had to turn away to cough into my elbow. I really tried to keep it to a minimum because I didn’t want to be too annoying but suppressing it didn’t work nearly as well as I wanted it to. Jisung had offered me some water which I slowly sipped on while pointing out here and there, that could be changed up to make the text flow smoother. We had been on it for two hours already and I was really impressed how my group members produced new tracks and easily came up with new ideas. Most of the times we’d only see the results, so today was very interesting to see how our songs actually come together. It being around lunchtime, Changbin offered to go out and get us some take-out to eat while working. Surely his offer wasn’t turned down, so my hyung left while the other two let me listen in on some of the tracks that were close to finished. I wanted to tell them how well they did, but suddenly my breath caught and I pushed my chair away from the desk, bracing my elbows on my knees. This coughing fit was by far the most intense I had had all week. Lasting a few agonizingly long minutes, I was left breathless by the and of it. Being able to pay more attention to my surroundings again, I became aware that the hand patting my back during the entire fit belonged to Chan. As I sat up straight again, I noticed the concerned looks on my hyungs’ faces. Jisung uncapped a waterbottle, pressing it into my hand. I gratefully took it, chugging down about half of it before placing it onto the table thanking him. Just as I was reassuring them that I was ok and tried to ignore their looks of disbelieve, Changbin came back.
Placing a few steaming Styrofoam containers onto the desk after Chan had gathered the lyricsheets, Changbin dropped a bad of coughdrops into my lap. “I thought that might help”, he smiled and I thanked him, returning the smile as Chan and Jisung relaxed a bit. We weren’t working as effectively while eating as we expected, mostly bickering with our mouths full. When we went back to work after our meal, the afternoon went over pretty smooth. The coughdrops Changbin had given me did their job and I finally got a break from coughing every few minutes.
Towards the evening we went back to the dorm and I was happy about the way I had spent my day after getting my vocal lesson cut short. Upon realizing that the bathroom was unoccupied at the moment, I decided to take a shower now instead of having to wait for the bathroom to be free later. Usually not showering hot, I made an exception today. The steam made me notice, that I had been a bit stuffed up and it was now slowly getting easier to breath although I hadn’t considered breathing difficult before. The warmth and humidity must have loosened some of the phlegm in my chest and while I was drying my hair off in front of the fogged-up mirror, I started coughing again. Again it was impossible to stop and I gripped onto the sink for support as my lungs tried to leave my body. I was only able to catch my breath after hacking up some mucus and washing it down the drain. This time, the fit was more tiring and I sat down on the toilet lid rubbing my chest as I tried to slow my breathing down. When both my breathing and my heart rate had gone down to normal, I got up and dressed in a hoodie as well as sweatpants and put on some thick socks. My grandma had always told me in the winter to wear warm socks so I wouldn’t get sick and I relied on that strategy to stay healthy now because I really had no idea why I was coughing so much.
Dinner was fun even though I barely had any appetite at all after eating coughdrops all afternoon. Hyunjin and Jisung had gotten into an argument about rapping which could only end in a tickle fight later and just watching them was very entertaining. After a while of mostly pushing my food around, I noticed Chan watching me. Scared that he might have heard me in the bathroom, I forced myself to eat properly to keep my leader from worrying and I actually managed to finish half of my dinner, which I was really proud of. After clearing the table, my members took turns showering. As I was already done with my shower, I sat on the couch watching the war between Hyunjin and Jisung go down. Minho was in the shower at the moment and Chan had continued working in his room, the rest of us sat around the living room crying from laughter as we placed bets on the two fighters tackling each other to the ground. My laughing soon made me cough and I had to brace myself with one hand on my knee, while the other went up to my chest. I barely noticed, the silence that settled around me, even Hyunjin and Jisung had frozen in their spot. Felix sitting next to me, rubbed my back as I kept choking on air and Changbin came over with some water. When the coughs finally died down, I took a few sips of water to sooth my throat which was slowly getting irritated, before looking into five worried faces. “Hyung, your cough is not getting any better, is it?”, Jeongin asked tentatively, having just witnessed it being much worse than it had been this morning. I felt bad for the maknae, as well as for Minho-hyung, sharing a room with them, my coughing inevitably kept them up as well. Last night I was able to convince them that I was fine and that they should just put in earplugs so I wouldn’t disturb them, hopefully that’ll work again tonight. I hate bothering my members over things that are really no big deal and that I can easily handle on my own. They must be similarly exhausted as me from losing sleep the last few nights and I give my only dongsaeng a tired smile while shaking my head. “Hey, I think I’ll head to bed to catch up on some of the sleep I missed out on recently. Innie, please just use earplugs again tonight, I don’t want to keep you and Minho-hyung up too”, I explained, standing up. Sure, it was still early but I could feel the exhaustion weighing me down. There was a chorus of “good night” and “feel better” as I trudged to my room, taking a bottle of water with me. Feeling a bit chilled, I decided to just sleep in the clothes I had put on after the shower as they were warmer than my pjs. I had just gotten settled in bed when Minho walked in, his hair damp from the shower. “Going to bed already? Are you ok?” – “Yeah, I’m alright just didn’t sleep too much recently. Hyung, I don’t want to keep you up too, please just wear earplugs tonight if I’m coughing too much”, I yawned, pulling the blanket up higher. “Alright, hope you don’t lose too much sleep either”, he sighed and ruffled my hair on the way out before switching off the light and allowing me to rest.
I fell asleep faster than expected, I must have been more worn down than I thought. Sadly, my sleep didn’t last long and I was up again in the middle of the night. My roommates had gone to bed already too and I could hear their calm breathing. When my chest started to feel tight, I quickly grabbed the fluffy blanket that I always kept at the foot of my bed and snuck out of the room. I sat on the couch wrapped in my blanket, pressing the soft fabric to my mouth in an attempt to muffle the coughs tearing from my throat. Was I really getting sick? I’ve always taken care of myself well and never forgot about my vitamins. I should be healthy. Soon, there was no space in my mind to wonder about how I could have gotten myself in this situation, as my entire focus was on trying to breathe. It was getting harder and my chest felt tight, ribs starting to ache from hours of coughing.
 Minho’s POV.:
I had worn earplugs to bed like Seungmin had asked me to, however, I was struggling to fall asleep and was still awake by the time he snuck out of the room. I had assumed he was just going to the bathroom but when it took him a while to return, I fumbled with my earplugs, removing them. With my ears now free, I could hear muffled coughing coming from the living room. My poor donsaeng really can’t get much rest, can he? I sighed before getting up and trudging to the living room. Sitting down next to Seungmin on the couch, I rub comforting circles on his back and when the coughing slowly ceased, he was left panting. “Hey, are you ok now?”, I whispered and he tiredly shook his head: “Never stops for long.” Poor boy. “Sorry, for waking you up hyung.” Wow, he looked like he was about to cry. “Hey, it’s ok. You didn’t wake me up. In fact, I didn’t even hear you because I wore earplugs like you asked. I couldn’t sleep and when I noticed you being gone for a while, I decided to check on you”, I reassured and he seemed to believe me, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. “Do you want to go back to bed?” – “No, I’ll keep coughing and I don’t want to wake Jeongin up too.” That was just like Seungmin, always considerate of others. I ran a hand through my hair and got up. My mom always made me lemon tea with honey when I was sick, so I figured it couldn’t hurt making my dongsaeng some. Especially, since he was right about his prediction to keep coughing and my heart ached listening to him from the kitchen. While the water boiled, I went the bathroom and grabbed the bottle of cough-syrup I kept at the back of the cabinet. With tea and medicine in hand, I made my way back to the living room only to find my dongsaeng half-asleep if it wasn’t for the next coughing fit to make him sit up again. I rubbed his back again and he slowly relaxed again, holding his chest while trying to catch his breath. He didn’t even question me when I held out the measured amount of cough-syrup to him, downing it instantly and only frowning slightly at the taste. Wow, does he have to be desperate for relief.
We sat together while Seungmin drank his tea and it was obvious that the medicine was taking effect, the fits were coming less frequent and lacked a lot of the intensity they had before. I even managed to convince him to go back to bed when he had finished his tea and either I just had a very deep sleep or Seungmin really managed to sleep through the rest of the night.
 Seungmin’s POV.:
When Chan woke me up the next morning, I felt like I got hit by a train. I was really stuffed up, my throat swollen and there was a dull pressure in my head. “Hey, Minho told me about last night and we decided to let so sleep a bit longer. How do you feel?” The leader asked sitting on the edge of my bed. I only noticed now, that the other two beds were already abandoned and my heart dropped. Would I be too late for our schedule? “I think the cold finally hit”, I croaked, sitting up. “Yeah, sounds like it. You’re soo stuffed up”, he replied sympathetically before pressing the backs of his fingers against my forehead: “And you’re running a temperature too…” I groaned and soon started to cough. It was very painful, my ribs already being sore and the ordeal aggravating my headache. “I think it’d be best if you stayed home today and get some rest. Our entire day consists of dance practice and I really don’t think you’re up to that”, Chan said carefully, knowing full well that I wouldn’t like the idea of having to sit out. “I’m ok, it’s not that bad. Please, at least let me try. I promise I’ll sit out if it gets too much.” Chan sighed but nodded, not wanting to fight so early in the morning and trusting me to be responsible enough to make that decision for myself. “Deal, but you’re not going without eating something, if you’re going to dance all day.” I nodded defeated, pushing the blanket off and getting up. I had no appetite at all but I understood Chan’s reasoning and went to the kitchen to get some food. Smiling at my members, I settled for eating some fruit since that’s healthy, right? The dance-line was discussing some choreographies we were going to work on and I just sat down next to them at the table, silently nibbling my breakfast. “Well, good morning, sleepyhead”, Felix greeted, his voice still deep from sleeping. “Morning”, I croaked with a smile. “Wow, somebody caught a cold. You sound awful”, Hyunjin commented. “Wow, aren’t you the sweetest in the morning?”, I sassed, making Minho laugh. Halfway through my breakfast, I needed to take a break and cough. When I had caught my breath again, I quickly forced down the rest of my breakfast before disappearing to the bathroom to get ready.
 Chan’s POV.:
I only walked into the living room when Seungmin was already gone but Felix assured me that the younger had eaten. “I really don’t like the sound of this cough though”, Minho spoke up: “It sounds different from yesterday, deeper and more like it’s bothering his chest instead of his throat.” – “Agreed, I just hope he’ll admit defeat himself. He’s usually capable of taking care of himself so I don’t want to be overprotective and force him to stay at home. Maybe he’ll settle for just watching and trying to memorize the moves that way. At least that’s what I’m hoping for”, I sighed.
When Seungmin returned to the living room, sports-bad slung over his shoulder, he appeared to be quite short of breath. I wasn’t sure whether I should just make him stay at home and rest. My thoughts were cut short when my dongsaeng started to cough again, hard. With a thud his bag hit the ground and he clutched his chest with one hand while the other went up to cover his mouth. I walked over, lightly patting his back, getting more worried the longer the fit persisted. By the sounds of it, Seungmin was struggling to breathe and I went to lead him to sit on the couch since his legs seemed a bit shaky. He pressed his hand to his mouth tighter, when a cough turned into a choked gag and he suddenly tore away from me, darting to the bathroom, while the remaining members watched on terrified. Seungmin had dropped to his knees in front of the toilet just in time to choke up his meager breakfast. Having followed him immediately, I crouched down next to him, rubbing his back. To say I wasn’t terrified myself would have been a lie and I was actually considering calling an ambulance while his breaths sputtered, head turning red as I was certain the poor boy didn’t get nearly enough oxygen in. Luckily, the coughing slowly died down after a few minutes and so did the retches. I kept both of my hands on Seungmin’s shoulders as he swayed lightheadedly, pressing one hand against his chest as a tear ran down his cheek. My heart ached watching him trying to catch his breath, lungs wheezing. I really didn’t like the sound of it and after this particular fit I was certain that this couldn’t just be a cold. “You’re not going to practice today, Minnie. I’ll call our manager and you’re seeing a doctor today”, I decided. As a tell-tale sign of how truly awful he must feel, he didn’t even object and only nodded weakly. He was still wheezing, relying on me to keep him up, as the fit had taken all his energy away, leaving him completely drained.
Hyunjin came in after a few minutes to check on us and we quickly changed positions, letting Seungmin lean against the dancer’s chest, still catching his breath, while I got up to go and call our manager. Going back into the bathroom, after assuring my members that everything would be alright, I crouched before the pair on the floor. “I talked to our manager, he’s going to take you to a doctor straight away. We’re going to wait till he picks you up and then the rest of us will head to practice”, I announced, reaching up to brush Seungmin’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes and resting my hand against his forehead shortly. My stomach was in knots when I noted that the temperature I had felt on him earlier had only gone up and he looked up at me with sad, glossy eyes. Hyunjin and I helped the younger stand before I lifted him up into my arms, carrying him to the couch because he was to breathless to take more than a few steps himself. Putting him down on the couch next to Felix, Seungmin immediately sunk into the freckled boy’s arms, closing his eyes as our little koala scratched his scalp. Jeongin returned from the kitchen carrying a glass of water and crouching next to the couch. He squeezed Seungmin’s knee, making the older open his eyes again: “Here hyung, drink something.” Accepting the water from his only dongsaeng, the vocalist took a few small sips, afraid to upset his stomach again before handing the glass back with a tired smile. Being to weak and short of breath, he mouthed “thank you”, knowing the younger would understand, before closing his eyes again.
It didn’t take too long for our manager to arrive and I helped him to put a very out of it Seungmin into the car. “Minnie. Hey. Text us when you get back home, yeah? Let us know what the doctor said and then try to get some rest”, I instructed and he nodded before I closed the vehicle door and they left. We headed to the practice room right away but it didn’t go too well. There was always at least one member messing up but I understood they were just as worried for our friend as I was and it was difficult to focus on the steps with a thousand thoughts running through our heads. That’s why today I went easy on everyone, trying not to be too strict and to keep the scolding to a minimum. I wasn’t really focused myself either, constantly glancing at the clock. It had been entire 3 hours and 21 minutes till we next heard from our sick vocalist. My phone buzzed with a message reading:
Hey hyung. I’m back at the dorm in bed. Apparently, I have bronchitis, but I got medicine. Sorry for scaring you all earlier. Don’t worry if I don’t reply to your texts, I’ll try to sleep for a bit. We waited like forever and I’m really tired. Tell the others I’m ok. ~Seungmin
I frowned at the diagnosis and texted back telling him to rest well and to get better before excusing myself from the group to call our manager to get more details about how long Seungmin would need to get better and to talk about the changes to our upcoming schedule. When I had all the information I needed, I went back and informed the group about what was going on and everyone shared a look of sympathy for our second youngest. We soon went back to practicing, wanting to wrap things up soon so we could get back home early.
 Seungmin’s POV.:
As soon as I got back home, I shot Chan a text before plucking my phone in and changing into more comfortable clothes. The trip to the doctor had been exhausting and I just wanted to sleep. I struggled to find a comfortable position to lie in since my ribs were really sore and my entire body ached. In the end I settled for a semi-propped up position with a pillow in my back because I found that being upright kept the coughing at a minimum. Still, my sleep was fitful, interrupted by bouts of me choking on something that wasn’t there, often needing to sit up completely to catch my breath again. I was just dozing off when my members came back home.
As the leader, Chan was the first to check on me while the others prepared dinner. They didn’t want to overwhelm me so my friends came in one by one to give me a hug. Although I had skipped lunch, I had no appetite at all and it took some convincing for me to force down some of the soup they had made. Remembering the events of this morning, I begged to have someone put a bucket next to my bed, not sure whether I’d be able to keep my meal down or not. Hyunjin soon came in and placed one next to me before sitting down next to me on the edge of my bed and rubbing my back comfortingly. By now I was almost completely sure, I wouldn’t need the bucket but better be safe then sorry. My hyung’s hand on my back made me sleepy all over again and I rested my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes. I was almost asleep when Felix came I as well and felt them pull me back into a more comfortable position to sleep in, with my back resting against Hyunjin’s chest and our sunshine boy cuddled into my side. Whenever I woke up coughing, Hyunjin’s hand found its way to my chest, rubbing soft circles till I caught my breath again and Felix squeezed my hand gently to keep me calm.
 Jisung’s POV.:
Over the next few days we made sure at least one member would be with Seungmin at all times. He was a complete wreck, with the fever making him more sensitive, he was often crying from the pain and exhaustion. He never managed to get more than a few minutes of sleep before waking himself up with a painful, chesty cough and I know I was not the only one worrying. How could he possibly get better when he’s not able to get the rest he needs? Today we had a fanmeeting scheduled and were really uneasy about leaving our sick friend alone at the dorm. Trying to find a way to have one of us stay at home to care for him, we decided that I would be staying at home with him. My anxiety during fanmeetings was still high, though I could push through if I absolutely had to but today I convinced our manager that I couldn’t. I felt really guilty towards Stay who would now miss to members but my concern for my dongsaeng was stronger, I could only hope our fans could understand.
Soon the group left and it was only the two of us. Seungmin had been awake to have some breakfast with us, not fully voluntarily as we constantly had to force him to eat at least small servings to make sure he wouldn’t starve from his lack of appetite and we had helped him to the couch so he wouldn’t feel isolated in his room. He was currently dozing on the couch, bundled in his favorite blanket with some sappy kdrama playing on TV for background noise. My heart ached because he just didn’t seem to improve at all. Sure, bronchitis took longer to recover from than a simple cold but I hated seeing him in pain, often on the verge of crying. I wracked my brain on what I could do to make it more bearable for him. Probably the most important thing was for him to rest properly so I decided to make a pot of herbal tea that I sometimes used to help me sleep, adding a generous amount of honey for his cough and placing the pot along with his favorite cup onto the coffee table next to the couch for him to drink the next time he woke up. I also remembered the time when my brother and I both caught a bad chest cold during winter when we were kids and my mom gave us heating packs to put on our chests to have the warmth loosen the congestion. She had also gotten me a microwaveable teddy bear filled with grains and lavender, that could be used as a heating pack, a few years ago as I frequently got stomach aches from stress. With a glance towards my sleeping friend, I went to my room to get my comfort item and heating it up in the microwave. Seungmin started coughing a few seconds before the microwave beeped signaling for me to take the bear out and I grabbed it, making my way to the living room. There I found my dongsaeng sitting on the edge of the sofa, arms braced on his knees as every cough just seemed to be getting wetter and more breathless. I sat down next to him with the teddy on my thighs, rubbing him back reassuringly with one hand while grabbing a few tissues for him to spit into. He was still wheezing when he was done, tears streaming down his face. “It hurts so bad, hyung”, he gasped barely audible. “Your chest?”, I asked sympathetically and he nodded. “Just wanted to sleep, why can’t I sleep”, he cried. I hugged his shaky form from the side before pouring him some tea. “Here drink something and then we can try sleeping again”, I shushed him quietly. It took a few minutes for him to finish his drink, having to take breaks to catch his breath every few sips. After returning the empty cup to the coffee table I slid onto the couch behind him and let him lie down propped up against my chest, his head resting against my collarbone. “Minnie, I have this teddy bear that’s like a heating pack. I’d put it on your chest to maybe help with the soreness and congestion, ok?”, I whispered into his hear while carding my free hand through his messy hair. After receiving a hum of approval, I lifted the bear up holding it gently to Seungmin’s chest. I kept holding it their since it was quite heavy and I didn’t want to put the entire weight onto my dongsaeng, he was already struggling to breathe enough the way it was, not needing for me to make it even harder. His sigh of content was enough for me to know, that I was on the right way figuring out how to make him feel at least a tiny bit better. My worries about the weight of the heating pack were unnecessary though because Seungmin soon snuggled up to my arm and the bear on his chest, the exhaustion aided by the tea and the faint lavender scent emitted from the teddy bear soothing him to sleep.
I stayed there on the couch with him, watching whatever drama was now playing on TV with a half mind and scrolling through my phone at the same time. Seungmin had been asleep for the last three hours only huffing small coughs every now and then but staying asleep through it. That was a new record and I was slightly relieved to see him rest somewhat peacefully. When the time approached that our group would be coming back, I picked him up and carried him back to his bed so he wouldn’t be woken up by them. Although he blinked up at me sleepily, I didn’t think he fully woke up, his eyes already closing again when I tucked him in. I removed the bear from his arms, earning a hoarse whine, and went to reheat it before placing it back onto my donsaeng’s chest. Even asleep he quickly wrapped his arms around the comfort item sighing and I closed the door with a smile.
Welcoming my members home in the kitchen, I updated them on our sickie’s condition and everybody shared a relieved smile hearing about him finally getting some sleep. Despite Seungmin still needing quite some time and rest to get back to his usual self, we were now less worried for him and stuck by his side during the entire recovery process. I made sure to get him a similar heating pack to mine, the only difference being that his was not a teddy bear but a cute little puppy that we heated up for him every night and that he quickly fell in love with.
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cherryonigiri · 5 years ago
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I too have an obsession with Ushijima (got a sideblog dedicated to him) so may I request the first time ushijima says “I love you”? Your writing is super amazingly fantastic btw :D
A/N: I am in the mood to binge write, so I shall binge write. Btw this is my way of warning y’all that college chemistry is difficult af. But enjoy fluffy/protective Ushiwaka :D
One-Shot: boyfriend!Ushijima, first time to say “I love you”
Word count: 1556
You stare out of the window, mindlessly stirring your iced coffee. Sighing, you turn back to the painfully difficult chemistry chapter sitting on the table in front of you. Damn you for having to take more chemistry in university. You’d thought you would be done with the cursed subject after graduating from high school, but oh no, that was very much not the case. Of course aspiring to be a physical therapist involved you having to, once again, torture yourself with molecules and complicated formulae. You’re working on one of your assignments and decided that a change of scenery could help you maybe internalize some of the content before the exam. And while you were quite good at the subject, you were distracted, reminiscing about your boyfriend.
Ushijima Wakatoshi, the ace of your university’s volleyball team. You’d long been an avid fan of volleyball and had followed his career during your time in high school. Unlike him, you’d gotten into your university the regular way—exams. You never imagined that you would end up at the same school as him. By some miracle you’d gotten in, only to hear a few days later that the Ushijima Wakatoshi had also committed to the same school you were going to. You were elated and vowed to attend as many of the home volleyball matches as your schedule would allow.
You didn’t think he would notice you, but by chance, you had accidentally bumped into him while his team was packing up after a match. You’d manage to squeak out something resembling a greeting and to your surprise, he’d recognized you from his matches. “You’re the girl who usually sits next to the rest of the team in the stands,” he’d replied. “You cheer very loudly,” he added on. You’d blushed in embarrassment, squawked out some version of thank you and then scurried away.
That’s how it started, “accidentally” bumping into each other after matches (although he now fully admits that he would secretly wait for you outside the stadium after every game). Greetings and occasional compliments turned into longer conversations before parting ways at the bus stop, which slowly transformed into walks to the local coffee shop (the one you’re currently sitting in now) where you would have conversations over hot beverages late into the evening.
It was probably inevitable that you’d fallen. It just happened—one day you just had a realization that maybe, just maybe, you’d developed a pretty major crush on your university’s volleyball ace. Never in a million years did you think he’d feel the same, but for some reason, fate had smiled upon you. Through an awkward conversation, you’d both managed to confess your mutual feelings after the semi-finals of the winter inter-university tournament of your first year (in which Ushijima and his team had then proceeded to demolish all the other contenders for first place). Your weeks became a routine of seeing games, doing work, hanging out with friends, and date nights with Ushijima.
The spring after you’d started dating had been unusually chilly. You’d caught a nasty cold a couple days before the preliminaries for the spring volleyball season. Although you’d still went, your sore throat and lingering cough had put a damper on your usually obnoxious cheering. Sniffling with your runny nose, you’d made your way back to the locker room entrance (you were far too familiar with the layout at this point) only to find Ushijima looking almost angry. “What’s got you in such a bad mood Wakatoshi?” you teased, wincing at how hoarse your voice sounded (okay, so maybe you had gone a bit overboard with the cheering even though you were supposed to be resting your poor throat).
He seemed to stare at you for a while. “Why are you here?” he says, his deep voice rumbling through the crisp dusk air.
You were not expecting his reply. “What do you mean ‘why am I here’?” you splutter, struggling to comprehend why he seemed utterly pissed that you had attended his game.
“You were distracting me.” He was frowning now.
“Well I’m sorry I want to see my boyfriend” - cough - “and support him” - cough- “during an” - cough, cough- “important match,” -cough. “Give me a break will you?” you manage to add before falling to a particularly aggressive round of hacking up your lungs.
“That is not what I mean,” he murmurs, stepping closer to offer you a handkerchief. “You shouldn’t have come while you were sick y/n.”
“I’m fine Wakatoshi,” you groan before blowing your nose. “I’m already over the worst of it. I’ll be fine in a few days.”
“I still think you should have stayed home to rest,” he grumbles and he wraps his scarf around your neck. You bury your face into the soft gray fabric to hide your blush. “I was worried about your throat with all that cheering you did.”
“I’m fine, Wakatoshi,” you manage to say exasperatedly before descending into another fit of coughing.
“You are most definitely not fine,” he growls. Your eyes widen, startled by how upset he sounds. He takes a few calming breaths before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you towards the bus stop. “I’m walking you home.”
You try to squirm out of his grip. “Wakatoshi you live on the opposite side of campus, it’ll be too much of a hassle. Just let me go home on my own.”
He stiffens and his arm around you tightens before bursting out into a yell. “GOD DAMN IT y/n! Can’t you just let me take care of you?” You’re spooked by the sudden increase in volume, unable to stop yourself from flinching. Ushijima pauses to look at you before taking a couple of deep breaths. “Sorry,” he says, loosening his grip on your shoulders. “I’m just very worried about you. Can you…” another deep breath, “….can you just let me do this for you? Please y/n?” You think you’re imagining the slight crack in his voice as he says your name.
“Fine. Don’t blame me when you get sick, Ushibaka,” you reply, sticking out your tongue. He chuckles and rubs a few reassuring circles into your shoulders.
“I’m not the one with a weak immune system, y/n. I won’t get sick from such a minor cold.”
“Yah! Ushijima Wakatoshi, stop mocking me I am a perfectly healthy woman in her twenties!” you protest, pouting at his teasing. The rest of your ride home is filled with shared banter and soft chuckles, the two of you smiling until you’re inside your dorm room.
When he finally has you tucked into bed after insisting you down a steaming cup of chamomile tea he smiles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight y/n.”
“Noooo, Wakatoshi, can’t you stay for….a few more minutes?”
“We both know if I stay a ‘few minutes’ I’ll be walking home at one in the morning y/n.”
“Please, take pity on your sick girlfriend!” you wail, flailing around in your pile of blankets and pillows.
Ushijima sighs, amused by your sudden clinginess. “I love you y/n, but I need to get some sleep before morning practice.” And just like that, it happens. Nothing fancy - no fireworks in the distance or a candlelit dinner. It’s just the two of you in the evening, sitting in your dimly lit room filled with your old volleyball posters and ratty tapestries. The first time one of you has said ‘I love you.’ It’s not that you didn’t love him (you’d known very early on that your affection for him ran much deeper than a schoolgirl crush), rather it’s a realization that what you have is so tangibly real. Part of you wants to jump out of bed and run around declaring to the world that your dorky boyfriend loves you. But another part of you is just…content.
“Okay, okay. Go home Wakatoshi. Text me when you get back?” He nods, before standing to leave. You bite your lip and hesitantly follow with, “Love you too,” before squeaking and burying yourself under the covers. You think you hear a hearty laugh from him as the door slams shut. Your face is stretched into a grin and probably blushing madly right now, but you can’t help but let out a small giggle.
Ushijima Wakatoshi loves you. (And you love him back with just as much passion as he has for you.)
“I’d thought I’d find you here y/n.” A deep voice interrupts your pleasant trip down memory lane. Looking up you see Ushijima, now clad in a thick coat, with a few snowflakes sticking to his dark hair. “Shall we go home?”
“Sure,” you sigh, knowing that it’s highly unlikely that you’re going to get any more of your chemistry assignment done by tonight (you still have the weekend to finish it).
Packing up your notebooks and laptop, you grab your cup of chamomile tea and head out the door with him. The two of you walk back to your shared apartment down the street. In the crisp winter chill of your third winter together you pull him closer and press a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you,” you whisper in his ear. Ushijima just chuckles, lacing his gloved fingers through yours, “I love you too, y/n.”
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avionvadion · 4 years ago
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Forest Deep: a fanfic mixing Secret of the Cursed Mask and the actual Inuyasha anime itself. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115702/chapters/58056064
Summary: Naraku had one goal- to destroy Inuyasha. Now with his new companion he has an idea how to make that happen. Brought to the Feudal Era by an unwanted Summoning, Irene's in search of her older sister and the one who brought them there. With the help of her new friends she might just find them, but it's hard getting through battles- nonetheless the day- with her lung problems. Why is this Naraku so cruel? What does he gain from hurting people? Who is his new friend- and what's underneath that mask she wears? Irene doesn't know. But she'll find out- one way or another. She just wished she had her sister beside her as she did it.
The first drawing is basically the story cover. I drew it back before Irene’s hair had a consistency and I had a better grasp of the art style XD The second image is from the end of chapter 20 and the last one is for chapter 15. 
Story: 
"I-It's…" Oh gods. "It's a saying where I'm from. Just- Just ignore it. I speak nonsense. Um. Look. You don't want to stay here, right? I don't want to stay here either. I have a sister I gotta make sure ain't dead, some friends to get back- granted… they probably don't want anything to do with me anymore, and an evil half-demon to stop, so~!" I huffed and stood, brushing some dirt off my pale blue jeans. I walked over, holding a shaky hand out to her with a grin. "You can come with or you can stay here and go crazy! Your choice."
Her eyebrows knit together. "For what reason did you desire the Magatama fruit? Most here are… filled with greed. They want its power for themselves. I, too, was selfish and… it brought me here."
"It…" I hesitated. Memories of the villagers falling came to mind. "I… I need the fruit to break a barrier. If the barrier doesn't break then… more people are gonna die. And… I don't want to see that happen."
"That's sounds awful…" Shizuno said, bringing a hand up to her mouth. "A-Are you certain that it's not another lie someone told? You could have fallen into a trap."
"I mean, probably?" I made a face, moving my head to the side and shaking it, shrugging my shoulders. "Buuut I have no reason to distrust him, you know? I-It's weird. Like, yeah he can be pretty shady when he wants to be, but he's helped me out this far and it's because of him I can talk to Shikigami spirits and heal people. So! I think he's nice. He did mention that this would be really dangerous and I was a firm believer I wouldn't survive. Was that a lie? Nope. Here we are! In a magical space surrounded by a bunch of crazy people."
"You are…" She frowned. "...strange. You speak of dire circumstances, yet you smile so brightly. Why do you behave so casually?"
"I just do." I was still so tired. "Life just sucks. That's how it works. No use mopin' about."
Unless of course several people had died. Damn it. I can still hear their screams, the children calling out for their parents as they ran for their lives. The blood splattering onto the ground… and staining Kohaku's kusarigama.
"Anyway! You never answered my question. You comin' with me?" I stretched out my fingers and wiggled them at her, staring at her expectantly. "You know you waaaant tooooo~! Far over the misty mountains cold~ to dungeons deep and caverns old!" My voice cracked and I coughed, hacking into my sleeve. My voice really could not go low. It was so distressing. The woman gave me such a strange look, but she reached out and took my hand. I felt so lightheaded. "Oh? Yay!"
She shook her head at me, folding her hands close to her chest. "We could be trapped here in eternal suffering," Shizuno told me, "yet you sing? Why?"
"Because if we're gonna be suffering eternally," I declared, holding an index finger up wisely, "we might as well have fun with it. Sadly I don't remember all the lyrics, but! It's a good song." I approached the mountain wall, staring up and squinting my eyes as I tried to gauge how far up we would have to climb before we reached the next ledge. My hands were all scraped up. "Okay… calm down. We can do this. You up for the climb?"
"Y-Yes, I suppose… what about you?" She stared at me, frowning. "Your skin is quite pale…"
"I'll be fine." I had to be. "My… My friends are waiting for me."
If they even still thought of me as one.
"And… your sister?"
I didn't answer. I wasn't even sure she was alive. "If I don't get that Magatama fruit… more people are gonna die. I… I don't want her to be one of them." I looked back at Shizuno, forcing another closed-eye grin, ignoring the lump forming in my throat. I had to be strong- for her. She was in pain as well. Her entire village was destroyed. "So we gotta keep going. Up and at 'em!"
I cracked my knuckles and reached up, grabbing onto a root sticking out from one of the rocks. This part of the wall was covered with vines, but there was no telling if they could all hold. Shizuno followed behind me uncertainly, grabbing onto a rock and climbing. "Th-This is very dangerous!"
Well, obviously. But I was convinced that we couldn't quite… die here? I've seen so many people wandering around and not one skeleton. At least there weren't any demons nearby in this spirit realm that could eat us. I don't think I'd taste very good. Ick. My mind flashed back to the mansion and I cringed, temporarily halting in my climb. Don't freak out. I had to stay calm. This is fine.
I'm fine. Always. Always fine.
I may be slowly breaking apart, but I'm fine. It's how I am.
This is just life.
It's my fault those villagers are dead, so I have to avenge them. Don't I?
Suddenly the vines I was climbing broke and I let out a small shriek, falling back towards the ledge below. The wind around me picked up pace and suddenly my descent slowed, causing me to blink. Then once I was close enough to the ground it stopped and I hit my head, crashing hard onto my back. "O-Ow! Frick!" I cringed and curled onto my side, bringing my hands up to the back of my aching skull. It was being put through so much abuse today. "Dude, that hurt!"
"A-Are you alright!?" Shizuno called down. She was at least thirty feet above me, clinging tight to some vines. "The wind just- how on earth-!?"
"Spirits." I hissed, wincing at the bump that was definitely going to be there for a while. The wind helped enough for me not to die, but wasn't completely forgiving to leave me free of injury. "Eugh…" That seriously hurt, but at least it wasn't fatal. This proved that one of my theories were right. Kazumi would have us wander forever in insanity, but she would not have us kill ourselves. "Frick."
I stumbled, wobbling over to the wall and leaning against it for a moment until my vision cleared. The world was trying to spin on me.
"Need to… keep going." I wheezed. This air spirit guardian person was such a sadist. "Have to… save them…"
My fingers gripped weakly at the roots. I wouldn't be able to climb in this state.
"Naraku… must be… stopped…"
I'm so dizzy. My forehead pressed against the rocky mountain side, eyes closing as I waited to catch my breath. That scared the crap out of me- falling like that. I hated it. After a few long minutes I grabbed at the vines again, fingers feeling numb and tingly, and I kicked at the wall with my bare feet. Being weak is one thing, but being stubborn was another. I was determined.
"I will… defeat him…" I wheezed, reaching up and grasping tiredly at a rock jutting out. It crumbled and I had to go for one higher up, stretching my arm painfully. "Barrier… it will break…"
Naraku sent Kohaku and Kanna after me, and why? Because Anastasia wanted my soul for some god awful reason that still wasn't explained. He made them attack the villagers that were helping me, and if Kagome didn't crack the mirror and force the souls to be freed so many more would already be dead. They tried to help me and Naraku forced Kohaku to kill them because of that. He was awful.
He was more of a madman than anyone else in this place.
The air around me seemed to grow gentler, my body becoming lighter and moving a bit faster. It was almost as if it was giving me a boost, but I knew that couldn't be the case. It was so aggressive earlier. After what surely must have been an hour I reached the ledge I fell from, reuniting with Shizuno who watched as I fell onto my front, eyes closed and breath heavy. "You are not the most healthy person, are you?" She asked.
"I wonder what… gave you that idea?" I wheezed, the sarcasm dripping off my tongue. "I told you… sickly human… didn't I?"
She gave a small smile, almost amused by my weird ways. "You did. Will you be able to make it to the top? There is still quite a ways to go."
"Yeah, just… need to… rest a bit first. Is that okay… with you?"
Shizuno nodded. "Yes… we have all of eternity, after all. Time does not seem to pass in this place. I have seen many arrive here, yet… they never aged. It is rather concerning, but there is nothing we can do. I fear many years have already passed since I was first brought here."
Wait, what? Oh no. My eyes widened and I sat up, looking at her in alarm and ignoring the rapid pounding of my heart. "N-No way… no, no, no! We… We have to hurry! I-I can't-!" I can't be trapped here forever. I have to get that fruit as fast as possible. If Maria was still alive then I can't be left behind. "The mountain! W-We have to… to climb…!"
I stumbled over, dazed and desperate, grabbing at the roots and struggling to climb. Shizuno dashed over and caught me when I fell, startled when she felt the heat radiating from my body. "I-Irene! You are feverish!"
"M'fine." I mumbled. "Have to get… to Sango…"
She, Miroku, Shippō, and Kirara are all up there dealing with the air spirit alone.
"Don't wanna see 'em hurt…"
I'm so sleepy. I want to take a nap.
"Gotta beat Naraku… and his dumb barrier thing…"
"Rest first. We have time." She said softly, voice so soothing. Shizuno carefully moved me away from the wall, keeping her arms around my waist, setting me down on the ground beside her. My head fell against her chest and my eyes closed, giving in to the comfort she gave. A hug felt so nice right now… yet her body was so cold. Her fingers ran gently along my hair, fiddling with the short strands. "You are fighting so strongly right now, are you not? It must be hard…"
"S'not… just… hurts."
"Why do you want to fight this Naraku so bad?"
"He hurts… people." I told her quietly, finding myself being lulled to sleep by her gentle touch. "They… helped me a-and he… killed them."
"He did?"
I nodded, making a small noise of confirmation. "He had… Sango's younger brother… attack. H-He's controlled by him, so he can't… fight back. She's always crying when she… has to face him. I don't like it. She's so much better… when she's happy…"
"I see. So Naraku is the one to blame."
Yes. He made Kohaku hurt them. It was all that evil half-demon's fault that the villagers are dead. "Naraku… killed them…"
"If that is so… then you should be able to climb the mountain now."
"...What?" My eyes slowly opened and I blinked, turning my head to look tiredly at Shizuno.
Her features seemed to change as the wind around us blew stronger, her long black hair shifting into something shorter and more white in color. I yanked myself off of her lap, watching as her colorful kimono become a pale blue, a white cloth draped over her shoulders and wrapped around her arms. As I stumbled into an upright stance, standing and backing away slowly, her dark eyes became an icy blue, lips dark and almost purple in color. I hadn't seen her entire appearance before, but I was certain now as to why Shizuno looked so familiar.
"K-Kazumi?"
"Where did she go!?" Sango demanded, whirling around to try and locate where the air spirit disappeared to. They were just talking when the mist became stronger, the entire area around them being covered in fog. The demon slayer couldn't see five feet in front of her. "Miroku! Shippō!"
"Here!" The fox demon informed, about ten feet back.
"I'm over here!" The monk shouted somewhere from her left side, sweeping at the area around him with his staff. "I'd use my Wind Tunnel to suck in this mess, but I might anger the spirits further if I did and cost Irene her life! Sango, what should we do!?"
"I-I don't know!" For once the demon slayer was at a loss. There was no enemy to fight, no goddess to appease. Only a spirit set on challenging their friend to a test of truth. "I… never realized she felt so guilty for what had happened…" Sango said after a moment, looking down at the hiraikotsu in her hand, closing her eyes with a pained expression. "I was only focused on myself. Miroku, I…" She rested a hand over her face, ashamed. "I'm a terrible friend."
"No, Sango, don't blame yourself." The monk shook his head. "I, too, did not notice. I was believing us to finally be able to close the gap and become proper allies, and yet…"
"She's always blaming herself!" Shippō stated, frowning deeply. He appeared greatly bothered. "Irene has such a guilt-complex for some reason! I don't get it! She's always apologizing for every little thing, no matter how small it is! Inuyasha was always yelling at her for it!"
"I-I thought she was just shy." Sango admitted. "But… I guess there's more to it. What do you think, Miroku?"
"Anything could have caused it." He informed them, something unsettling forming in his stomach. The monk always had been unable to refuse helping a young woman in need and the one in trouble now was a friend. Yet how could they protect her if they didn't even know what was wrong? If they couldn't even reach her where she was now? Why did Irene feel the need to place the blame on herself? "I'm afraid we'll just have to ask and pray she will tell us when she returns."
"I hope so…"
"H-How did you-!?" I pointed at her, dumbfounded, then gestured to where the brunette used to be. "Sh-She was just- hah? Gah! Shapeshifter!"
I took several more steps back. The woman's expression became blank once more, resembling more of the air spirit I had met earlier. "She was nothing more than an illusion. I created her as a guide, just as I have done time-and-again for those who come up this mountain. A rare few have ever been able to accept their truth and continue forth up the mountain. They were always too trapped in their greed, their selfishness… and would never think twice about abandoning someone else if it meant reaching their own goal."
What is she saying? I don't understand. My head hurts so much from this; I was still so dazed.
Kazumi closed her eyes, opening them only when her purple lips tilted upwards into a smile. "You have passed my test, Irene. You have accepted that Naraku was the one to blame for the villagers deaths. The children did not die because of you. I have seen into your mind… I know what you saw. I know how you felt. With this test I was able to attune your heart and I have come to the decision that you are indeed worthy… of a Magatama fruit."
"But… I literally didn't do anything?" I don't get it. I'm too dizzy for all this. "I just climbed a mountain…"
The air spirit looked amused by this and went on to explain. "Though they scared you, you tried to approach those wandering souls and save them. When you saw the apparition I created… you tried to give her the courage to go on. Though… unorthodox in the way it was done… you remained strong for her for as long as you could. But you are only human- and one who is prone to illness cannot keep on for long." She glanced up at the mountain, icy eyes following the path up. "The wind will help you on your climb up the rest of the mountain. You need not fear falling; now that your mind is clear of guilt… the roots and rocks along the cliff will not break."
I'm still so confused, but alright. "Um, thank you…?"
"Do not thank me just yet." She warned. "If you so much as waver in your thoughts you will fall once more down to the bottom, and your soul will wander here for all eternity like the rest." Kazumi waved her arm and then she was gone, replaced by nothing but more fog.
My eyebrows raised and I shook my head incredulously, unable to believe the audacity some spirits could have. Like, seriously? Jeez. Crazy lady. She was so much nicer as Shizuno. At least she was giving me some advice… kind of. Was this all because I blamed myself for what happened with Kohaku?
That's what I'm getting from that conversation anyway. Ugh, I have such a migraine. I want to go home.
I need another hug.
I walked over and grabbed at the roots, hands shaking. They didn't feel as weak and numb as before, but they were bleeding. I had scraped them up quite badly during my climb. That strange feeling appeared again as I tried to move up the mountain, like the wind was giving me a boost. I supposed it actually was doing that, as it was helping me move a lot faster than before. I reached the next ledge in record time.
I tried not to think too much, focusing on the task at hand, determined not to fall below.
My heart wanted to waver, to believe that the children's deaths were my fault, that everyone who died should have blamed me, but… Shizuno's words stuck. They may have been protecting me, but it was by Naraku ordering Kohaku that they were killed. I had no control over the boy's actions. It was not my fault.
It was his.
The fog slowly cleared away the closer I got to the top and the people wandering around had vanished. I huffed and trembled, feet and hands scratched up and blistered, legs and arms sore. If not for the wind pushing me up- as if trying to say hurry up, stupid human like an irritable spirit- I would have collapsed long ago. I dragged myself up to the top ledge where I had been thrown off when I first met the guardian spirit Kazumi, struggling to push myself forward, and wound up clawing at the ground.
My poor fingertips were all bloody.
"I-Irene!?" I recognized that voice. I fell on the ground and rolled onto my back, wheezing and letting out a few coughs. I was so exhausted. "Oh, thank god! Miroku, Shippō, look!"
"Irene is back!"
"She passed the test!"
I could see the group dash over to me, Sango quickly kneeling by my side and helping me sit up. I began to tear up at the sight of her. Wasn't she mad at me? "Irene, you're burning up again! How badly did you stress yourself out!?" She asked, voice almost going into a sisterly scolding tone before relief crossed her face. "I'm so glad you're back…"
She surprised me by leaning down, wrapping her arms around me tightly."I should have paid more attention to your feelings. I'm so sorry."
"I-It's okay." I choked out, awkwardly hugging her with my arms so not to get blood on her armor. I'm such an idiot. They didn't hate me after all. "I-I'm fine. You're the one who was upset, so…"
"But so were you!" She pulled away, gripping my shoulders tightly with her hands. "All this time you've been festering hate and guilt inside of you- and for yourself no less! Ever since I've met you you've been apologizing left-and-right for things you had no control over! Irene, it's okay to be selfish! Not everything is your fault!"
I couldn't speak, too stunned by what was happening. This day was so dizzying. "I-I just… want to help." I finally got out, stuttering on my words. Her eyes were so intense; it felt like they were boring into my soul. "I-I can't do anything useful, so…"
"What do you mean by that?" Miroku demanded, stepping up. Kazumi was still nowhere in sight. "You've helped us countless times; we've told you before. Just who told you that you were useless? That made you believe you could guilt yourself for everything?"
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