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delirious-donna · 8 months ago

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A Kiss But At What Cost? [Part Seven]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: The time calls for a movie night and one you’ll be sure to rope Kento into. A good old-fashioned slasher movie sounds just right, but how will the end of the night go once you’re all spooked out?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, two oblivious idiots, yet more emotions, bad communication, mentions of horror movies and tropes, if you can tell me what the movie at the end is you get a gold star

Part Six | Series Masterlist | Part Eight

Popcorn? Check. Cozy blanket? Acquired.

“Hm…” You hummed quietly, turning on the spot in the living room. The lights were set low, the thickest of the blankets from the basket in the corner ready for you to crawl beneath for your movie night, but something was missing.

A drink, of course.

Padding back into the kitchen, you bent your head to investigate the contents of the fridge, debating on a Diet Coke or a beer. The noise of someone clearing their throat made you jump, bumping your head into the door of the fridge in the action of whirling around.

“Ouch!”

Kento winced before quickly schooling his features into neutrality. You turned with a frown etched on your brow, and he couldn’t blame you for it this time. Moving forward, he stood by your side to reach inside and a grab out a bottle of beer, popping the top easily.

Your scowl deepened, more annoyed at the flutter in your stomach at his ease of opening the beer without even looking at the damn thing. “Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d still be so jumpy this far into our little arrangement.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a quick sip, eyes moving to the ceiling which presented you with the open opportunity to watch whilst his throat worked to swallow the frothy liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

A thought leapt from the recesses of your brain, and your pout turned into a wicked smile before he could blink. How would mr ‘stick-in-the-mud’ cope with a couple of scary movies? It would be beyond hilarious if he turned out to be a scaredy cat given his imposing stature and presence, and the chance to find out was too delicious to pass up.

“Got plans this evening?” you asked with an expression you hoped looked nonchalant. Before he could answer, you pulled out a can of Diet Coke and cracked open the ring pull with a low hiss.

“None to speak of. Why?”

Your hand linked through his arm with a wide grin, pulling him away from the kitchen to the cozy little nook you’d crafted for your movie spree. You gestured towards it with a theatrical “ta dah” and glanced up to meet eyes of hazel alight with confusion and a hint of intrigue, if you weren’t much mistaken.

“What’s this? You’ve made a… nest on my couch,” Kento guessed, scanning the bowl of popcorn and bar of unopened chocolate resting on the faraway arm. He wasn’t so stupid not to realise that this was clearly a movie night, but he was doing his damnedest not to think too much about your hand curled around his bicep. One wrong move and you might take that touch away, and he didn’t want that, not yet.

“Wow. Don’t tell me you didn’t watch movies with Karin growing up, because I know it’ll be a lie. That girl is more of a film buff than I am, no way you escaped that.”

Kento scoffed. “You’re correct. I did not escape, though there were many times I sorely wish I had. If I have to watch When Harry met Sally one more time, I might do something drastic,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Not a fan of romcoms, Nanami?”

“I didn’t say that, and it’s Kento, stop changing it back. There are a few that I can…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Tolerate, I guess.”

Your eyebrows rose in clear curiosity. Slipping your hand out of his arm, you rounded the couch and settled next to your snacks to pat the seat next to you in invitation. Kento swallowed, a wash of heat licking up both sides of his neck and he fought the urge to pull at the neck of his sweater.

“I don’t have any romcoms on the menu for tonight, sadly…” You added just to see his eyes narrow and his lips thin in displeasure. “Come join me, please? I’ll even share my popcorn.”

A moment passed where you simply stared at one another, your heart in your throat at the thought of being rejected, but it didn’t come to pass. Kento took another swig of beer and made his way to you, sinking into the couch with a sigh of resignation that didn’t sound genuine at all. You hid your smile behind the can in your hand, twisting to look at him and meeting determined eyes.

Kento crossed an ankle over his knee, settling against the cushions. “I’ll pass on the popcorn, too noisy,” he teased, smirking when you blew a raspberry in his direction. “So, if it’s not lovey-dovey nonsense, what are we watching?”

He should have taken the wide, almost twisted grin as a hint, but once again he was oblivious to your devious ways. What a fool he was. Except, in the long run, you were the one who would have something to worry about…

A piercing scream tore through the sound system, followed immediately by one of your own, although thankfully not as loud. You pulled the blanket to your face, covering your eyes from the gore feast on the screen. It didn’t help that you could hear Kento chuckling by your side. So much for the idea that he might be the one taking the starring role as scream queen… dammit.

The first movie had been a classic, one you had both seen before and it was nice to be able to laugh along with your handsome companion at the overused tropes featured in many of the slasher movies from the eighties and nineties. Groaning almost in sync when the lead female chose to run deeper into the house than take the open door that led outside and booing when the killer miraculously managed to traverse the same distance as the comic relief sidekick without even breaking into a light jog.

It gave you time to indulge in conversation as well as keeping pace with the plot. You shoved him playfully when he refused to indulge your curiosities as to which, in his words, lovey-dovey movies he enjoyed. Not even your best pleading puppy eyes could get him to relent, the curl of his lips so telling of his enjoyment at your frustration.

However, he did share some juicy tidbits about his sister that you were sure to tuck away and use to embarrass Karin at a later date. She more than deserved it given that other than one short and snappy text message, you hadn’t heard from her in all the time you had been staying here. Some friend. The bluster was all feigned when you examined it, and you refused to dig any deeper.

Karin and Kento were so different you would have never guessed they were related, yet you liked them for completely different reasons. You wondered if you would keep in touch once… no, it couldn’t be like that, and you knew it deep down. This was a temporary situation that would be forgotten soon enough, you lied to yourself with a long swallow of your drink. It wasn’t worth ruining the evening by moping. Deciding it was for the best, regardless of what your heart tried to yell, you forced the feelings into a box and refocused on the here and now.

It warmed your heart to watch as Kento slowly relaxed further, his limbs losing the tension from when he first joined you, an arm draped along the back of the couch and his beer balanced on his thigh, hand loose around the glass bottle dripping in condensation. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be, making you nearly choke on your drink several times over when he offered his bitingly sarcastic commentary on the situation on screen. At times you thought his ears even looked a little red, but you couldn’t be sure given the lack of lighting. If it was true, then it was adorable that he got enjoyment from your genuine reactions to his jokes.

With the second movie fast approaching the climax of the horror, you regretted the decision to ramp things up. Most of the movie you had spent tucked tightly beneath the blanket covering your lap, squeaking at every little jump scare and even more so when Kento moved unsuspectedly. All of it was ammunition to the laughter Kento levelled at your expense, and more than once you reached out to smack at his arm with him feigning noises of hurt when you knew very well it was the lightest of touches.

Oh, he was a menace alright.

Kento, not for the first time during your stay, felt like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He watched your bravado disappear in the face of a movie you weren’t familiar with, and tried not to think too deeply when he felt the desire to pull you into the side of his body. It wasn’t worth the headache. His beer was long finished, and his hands felt too empty, fingers twitching against his thigh and pinching at the stitched seam of the couch to distract himself from what he knew would be inappropriate thoughts. He would not sully this evening with his own selfish desires.

You shrieked once more when the villain popped out unexpectedly, however, this time you lunged sideways and buried your face into his arm that lay between you both. He nearly yelped himself, barely holding back the strangle of surprise when your nose rubbed into his bicep and your small fingers curled around his forearm. His heart rested in his throat, glancing down with wide eyes and almost missing when you spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Tell me when this bit is over.”

Tentatively, he lifted his arm and your hold tightened as if he were trying to shake you off. Kento murmured a gruff affirmation and refocused on the TV. You dared to lift your chin, blinking at his unwavering expression fixed straight ahead whilst he settled his arm around your shoulders and gently drew you closer. His jaw clenched, and you nearly backed away despite your heart hammering in your chest from the movie playing, but when his fingertips rubbed gently against your upper arm… it was game over.

You melted into his side, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne surreptitiously and smiling into the soft knit of his sweater at the lingering aroma of coffee that infused his clothes. Clearly, he was a man that ran hot given the output he was currently kicking out and the longer you remained in this position, the less you felt like the blanket was necessary. It was far from unpleasant, in fact, you longed to wrap yourself in his warmth. Who needed a blanket when you could have him instead?

Closing your eyes, you smiled indulgently, knowing it would be hidden from view. This was nice—more than nice—it felt right. Like you belonged here, and you should make up for lost time by refusing to move when he inevitably tried to pry you off.

The moment didn’t come.

At last, when Kento signalled that you could look again, he didn’t make any move to shove you back to your corner of the couch as you had assumed he would. No, instead, he slouched deeper into the seat and rested his cheek atop your head like a boyfriend or a lover might do. It was comfortable, welcoming after all that had transpired in such a short space of time and honestly, you wished you had the courage to fist the front of his sweater and drag him into the desperate kiss you longed to bestow on his lips.

The walls that both you and Kento had built around yourselves were beginning to crumble like sandcastles being washed away by an approaching tide. The water was unstoppable, or so it seemed and the air in the room felt charged with possibilities.

The credits rolled and neither of you made a move. Kento held himself back for fear of something he couldn’t define, and you lacked the courage to be the first to act after the incident in the bar. Two idiots, that’s what you amounted to, and it was endlessly frustrating.

“I guess it’s time for bed,” Kento said, straightening in his seat but still making no effort to untangle you from his chest.

Alarmed, you jerked upwards and shook your head violently. “Oh no no no. There is no way you go straight to bed after horror movies!”

“I don’t plan on staying awake all night if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he countered with a sharp arch of one eyebrow. Your hand remained flush on his thigh now that you weren’t moulded into his body, and he did his best not to notice.

“No,” you pouted, exhaling loudly through your nose. “We watch something funny then go to bed. And you have to stay with me because…”

“… because you’re scared.”

You smacked him dead centre in his chest, rolling your eyes when his chuckle deepened into a rich baritone belly laugh that made your legs tremble. Thank god you were sitting down. “Shuddup.”

There was a part of you that wanted to retreat into his warmth, to make yourself a home in the space beneath his arm and listen to the beat of his heart until you found yourself too tired to resist the pull of sleep, but that was asking rather a lot.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he could read your mind, or if your thoughts were simply so obviously written across your face. Kento lifted the remote with his right hand and waved you towards him with the left. There was something unreadable in his expression, a tightness around the eyes and chiselled jawline. Again, you wondered how much of this he wanted to participate in, but the allure of his offer was too tempting to miss out on.

You resumed your position, legs tucked up and your torso leaning into the strong support of a man you were falling for. Fuck… why did it have to be like this? Closing your eyes for a moment’s reprieve, you resolved to do something about it—anything—because living this way, with these feelings and desires was taking its toll.

“That one,” you piped up when Kento passed over a movie you knew inside out. You convinced yourself that a good laugh would solve all your immediate problems and wriggled into a more comfortable position. The other matter could wait until the morning.

“A fine choice,” he murmured more to himself than anything. A smile returned to his face when the familiar movie of an overzealous police officer deployed to the seemingly pristine British countryside for showing up the city force began to play on the screen.

An hour in and your delightful laughter had stopped. Kento felt the rhythm of your breathing deepen, a swivel of his eyes told him exactly why—you were fast asleep. He gazed at your sleeping face for longer than he realised, his neck stiffening from the awkward position but not caring for the dull ache. Your features were smooth, relaxed in a peaceful slumber. There was no sign of your trepidation following the scary movies and he smiled gratefully.

You were so pretty. The truth of those words cemented into his brain, and he doubted anything could dissuade him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had gazed longingly at a previous girlfriend or lover like he was right now. There was something different about you, and yet so right that he ached to admit it out loud. Ever since the woman in the museum had mistaken you for a couple, offering advice that seemed to be tailor made specifically for his worries, he couldn’t get the idea of opening up out of his head.

His fingers graced the apple of your cheek, stroking your skin delicately like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Your face turned into the soft affection, a long comforting sigh exhaled through slightly parted lips and Kento fell even further. Why couldn’t he have met you under normal circumstances? A memory of your frantic flailing when he surprised you in his bathtub brought humour to his heart rather than the mortification of the day itself. It certainly made for an interesting story…

It took longer than it should for Kento to realise the movie had ended. Black velvet darkness decorated the quiet room, voyeuristic shadows clinging to the walls from the dark light of the blank television screen, still on but with nothing to display. The silent witnesses watched on whilst his heart beat faster and faster, head moving closer to your face until his lips brushed your forehead with heartfelt reverence.

The kiss was momentary, one singular frame in the grand scheme of his life, but to Kento, it felt like the defining moment. His old life, daily routine, the endlessly long hours at work, working out every morning simply to fit the aesthetic he believed to be the most suited to his lifestyle, it all seemed completely meaningless.

He thought of the books that lined the shelves of his office, most still unread. The places he dreamed of visiting—far flung countries with soft white sandy beaches, foreign cities with beautiful architecture to explore and even places closer to home that he never had time to venture to. How much of life was he missing out on? The food he could sample. The interests he could test out to see if any stuck, the people he could make friends with, the woman he could love…

Shit.

You were changing his entire world, and you had no fucking clue. He shouldn’t have kissed you. That realisation burned into him with vigour, the blazing inferno of his self-loathing at taking something that was not freely given, churned his stomach. Should he wake you and admit what he had done? No, it wasn’t fair to you.

Kento manoeuvred himself into a position to reach beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease into his arms and you didn’t even jostle at the movement. His eyes never left your face as you nuzzled into his chest, small fingers holding onto the fine threads of his sweater as if you were scared to lose your place, to lose your security. He wished he could be that for you, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough.

With the utmost care, he placed you into your bed, carefully unpicking your fingers and pressing the sheets into your palm as replacement before tucking them around you. Kento smiled when you murmured something unintelligible in your sleep, turning onto your side and burying your nose into your pillow with a gentle moan that spoke of nothing but comfort and peace. Despite kicking himself for the earlier kiss he had stolen without permission or consent, he found his nose and lips nestled in your hair once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, and he stood to his full height and wished you a pleasant sleep under his breath before closing your door and disappearing behind his own.

He had a lot to think about, some decisions to make that could alter the course of his life and it was likely that not much sleep would come to him this night despite his earlier conviction that he wouldn’t be awake all night.

Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a palm down his weary face until he could catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the strain evident in his features.

“What do I do?”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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bra1nw0rmz · 7 months ago

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Hello!! A question for you, not in a offensive light at all but I wanna ask why you like pavlevi so much and how come it doesn't make you uncomfortable with the age gap? We don't know pavs age which is fair enough but.. You get my point! I still love em tho. Maybe I'm a bit conflicted

I’m so sorry but you made a fatal mistake of giving me an opportunity to yap about them ( but thank you for being very nice abt the question, it means a lot :3 )

Slight rant under more… tried my hardest to keep it short but I have so much to say abt these fuckass losers 😔

For the reasons why I like Pavlevi so much. It’s because they are my two favourite characters, I need to psychoanalyse them and make them trauma bond or I’ll DIE.

Levi has the solitary soul, he’s been alone for most of his life. What he seriously needs is connection. And I think most of the cast just can’t fundamentally understand him. (I’m not sure if I’m being biased and self projecting here because of my experiences being autistic but yeah 😭) And I genuinely think most of that cast would look at Levi with pity. Almost as if he can’t think for himself. And I think Levi hates it. It’s really a hard feeling to pin down, but it feels weirdly dehumanising?? Like say Karin or smth would mean well but it still feels like you’re being hang up to dry? And I think Levi fucking hates it when everyone is looking at him like that. And the pity ppl have for him comes from a place of being so disconnected from him. Most of them can’t really understand him or what he’s gone through I suppose?? It’s not their faults, it’s just how it is. Society has literally thrown him to wolves. His government striped him of his autonomy, has used him for it’s benefit and now it’s people look at him like this couldn’t have been avoided, that it’s something so sad, to be pitied. Which is also why I love pavlevi bc Pav is the only person that Levi can truely connect with. Someone else who’s gone through the same bullshit, torn apart by the same world. They are both cut from the same stone, just at different stages and coping in different ways which I think is interesting. And it’s so sad because why the hell does it have to be some Bremen fuck that actually treats him like a person and not just something to pity.

As for Pav’s side of the coin. I just really like to torture him. Due to what he’s gone through and seen, being in the army around the same age as Levi, if not younger. I feel like he’d see Levi as being fit to make his own damn decisions. It’s none of Pav’s business, Levi can do whatever and he honestly does not give a shit. But as they get closer I feel like I think Levi brings out all the guilt and shame Pav bottled up and pushed far down in his psyche. Like… he’s had to kill so many just like Levi, all to even get a chance at killing Kaiser. All of it being a glorified elaborate destructive suicide mission. And he’s very fucked up about it. Dread sets in for Pav because??? He’s a terrible person??? He’s had to wear this mask for so long, he doesn’t even know who he really is. Levi is just troubled and has been put in one unfair situation after another. Pav couldn’t move forward and purposely put himself in those situations and did those fucked up things. I also think it’s interesting to think of them as like an intimacy of convenience. Bc they both know they have no future and might die at any second, but it’s better to hold someone’s hand than be alone when you die.

Other tidbits!!

They are fucking funny, like c’mon getting bossed around by the enemy, and a LIEUTENANT on top of that, is fucking hilarious

I feel like you got this from the rant b4 but the Angst potential is crazyyyyy

Pav teasing Levi and making him all flustered, HELLOO??? I love blushy levi

Pav traversing caring for someone else that isn’t himself bc he’s fundamentally a self serving person gggghhh

IFUCKING LOVE DOOMED RELATIONSHIPS RAHHHHHHHHHHH

The way their heavily different personalities clash would be fun

Having someone there who's gone through what you've suffered through is so comforting. you're not alone anymore….. IM SICK IN THE HEAD

I think Levi should be allowed to kiss boys as a treat

I also think he should be allowed to shoot Pav in the head as a treat

As for the age gap.. I don’t like it at all ofc. 😭😭 It’s definitely not ideal. And I can 100% understand how that can be a deal breaker….. but I also feel like people baby Levi too much? He has 1 breakdown because he just got back from war, is going through heroin withdrawals, everyone in his home town has been turned into violent monsters, he’s hearing voices and someone just tried to kill him and he gets labeled a wimp. You put a guy in the worst situation ever and he cries ONCE and ppl call him a crybaby and infantilise him 💀 He’s stronger than people give him credit for… but that’s more of a problem with fandom than anything.

Also like… I tried….. I really tried to not like pavlevi….. But I’m way too fucking autistic abt them. It’s so bad that when I see them I get an adrenaline rush and do laps around my kitchen. I’m so serious. These guys are like pseudo drugs to me, I need to chop my head off.

And ofc I wouldn’t support 18 and 30 smth irl, that’s fucking gross……… And I would say the same for a stalker and her victim.. because look, I love S4marina, but it’s basically in the same boat as Pavlevi to me..

This being a fandom that should primarily be adults, I feel like ppl should understand that. Yk, having better common sense and media literacy to understand this stuff ain’t okay irl. I still realise it’s not everyone’s thing and I’m not trying to convince ppl to like it, just explain why I like it (NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THEM LIKE I DO, I NEED TO DIE)…. Anyway uuhm I understand it makes some ppl uncomfy, which is valid! Just don’t go into spaces where you’ll be exposed to it ig??? If you seriously don’t like it, the block button/blocking tags is right there. I do that too !!

#ask #I’m sorry for tweaking on main #it may happen again #pavlevi #I hope I said stuff that’s in a easy way to understand..#there’s a lot going on in my brain at all times my bad #I also hope I didn’t forget anything I wanted to say erm

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tacticalmaladjustment · 2 years ago

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Right after Kazuki and Rei left the organization, their most critical concern, apart from the risk of retaliation on their newly minted family's safety, is their immediate unemployment, cutting ties not only with the business but also to their current, and only, source of income.

How did they even manage to get by, let alone pool enough capital to relocate to Okinawa and establish their family-owned business? Now, Kyu-chan did keep the cash that Karin refused to accept from Kazuki, but would all of that have been enough to do all that on top of running cost of living, or would that just cover a few months of living expenses for a family, not a single person, of three? In a city?! with probably post-pandemic levels of inflation?!? sorry that got too real

I need fanfics, scenarios, ideas, whatever of this kind. Did Kazuki and Rei simply have enough nest egg prepared for this eventuality? Was the idea/concept of the diner something they had from the start right after leaving the organization, or did they stumble upon it after jumping from job to job? Did they take a bank loan for that (very likely, unless something something underworld connections)? How many documents did they have to fake yet again for that? How did they even go about scouting for a new location to move to? How did they all cope with the large change in expendable income? And also, what happened to all the boujee furniture Kazuki bought for Rei's swanky apartment?? Did they at least keep some of the appliances???

#please i need your ideas #I love the ending but the timeskip left so much domestic life details that a mental itch just needs to be scratched #buddy daddies

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winterbeheaded · 2 years ago

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I’m sorry but people still coming at you for writing about a character with an ed are hilarious to me like… 1st of all it’s fictional. There are people/authors out there that write about stuff that can be extremely triggering to others, why are you getting hate for writing something that so many already do? I recently finished the book “Pretty Girls” by Karin Slaughter (absolutely loved it but can be extremely triggering to certain people) and I honestly doubt the author went through what happened in the book so it’s like…… where’s the logic? In your case I’m sure you use writing as a way of coping as well so you mostly do it for yourself. I don’t look at your blog and see a glorification of an ed. I see somebody writing a complex character. Riley is so fletched out at this point and to simply say “you’re glorifying eds” is so weird to me. There is no textbook way of how you should act/should be if you have an ed. I feel like this message is all over the place lol but I hope it still makes sense. Keep your head up, love you and Riley lots <3

not me getting a bit teary!!

i'm gonna be all over the place with my answer, so don't you worry! yes, i completely agree. never have i ever wanted anyone to look at riley's difficult life and think "i want that." but there's also this other thing thing where when you're in really deep, you tend to romanticize it to cope, because what else do you do? you're sick and scared and it's GOT YOU. but as the writer? i don't think i'm glorifying it, or making riley's life look easy or desirable in any way. just because i use flowery and colorful words does not take away the pain that's hidden within them. all ed's are horrible and i wouldn't wish it on anyone. and i wish i didn't have the knowledge and experience that i do have to write riley, but it's there, and i can either sit with it or d something with it. and you're right, at the beginning, way back in 2014 when i first made riley, it was a way to cope!

i've grown old with riley, and i love her more and more each day and i'm so glad you feel the same.

please have the most wonderful night!

#crying a lil #ㅤㅤ🗒️ㅤㅤㅤ⁺ㅤㅤㅤansweredㅤㅤㅤ، ִ ۫ ⁎ ✧ㅤㅤ ㅤ( ᵒᵒᶜ. )

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here4kpopfics · 2 years ago

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Ivi, words cannot explain how much I adore you. You make me emotional every time you review and it's like I can't even provide a good enough response to your response. 🙈

And I say that with good reasoning. You hit it the nail straight on the head every times and it's so rjgblrdahg that I can't just tell you if you're right or wrong or go off into a tangent of spoilers.

The situation between oc and Jungkook at the beginning and what you said about why relationships fall apart because of people not being able to consider another's emotions is spot fucking on. oc's a mess, that's obvious. There's an abundance of differing emotions going on. From way before the crash, just before the crash, and after the crash. And having all those emotions can make it difficult for someone to focus on someone else's. But while she might not be considering how he feels, he's just the same. While he offered to go with her, he knows he's not ready to go. So having two people not mentally prepared to return to somewhere full of memories, that's just asking for a horrible outcome.

Also side note. Yoongi's sister is Min Karin only because she was the only idol girl with the family name Min that I could find in a very quick search. Also she's super cute.

Yoongi's casualness of the situation and being positive and trying not to tip toe around her is something I think oc needs as well. She had that moment with Joshua (and will have more) and idk you're right that it feels like most people feel like they're not allowed to be happy because you're not happy, when that's really not true for a lot of grieving people.

that said, is it him being sweet and kind or is it him avoiding his own grieving process?

and EXACTLY that oc and kai's relationship isn't more or less important than his relationship with Ryujin or Jungkook. Yes, they're relationship was a different kind of strong because it's a sibling relationship. But his with Ryujin was strong out of love and his with Jungkook was probably the strongest friendship Jungkook's ever had/will have. They all have a different connection to him, and it doesn't make any of their sadness more or lesser than the other.

I'm so happy someone noted the passcode 🙈🙈

THIS:

When the blame can be placed only on outside things, that doesn't feel like enough, so we either place it on the people around us or on ourselves.

see: Ryujin blaming oc. oc blaming herself. Jungkook....tbc. 😅

The thing about panic attacks, for ME at least, is panic attacks you can't predict. They just happen and you can't just rationally be like "okay breathing exercises to get me out of it" or whatever coping mechanisms one might have for anxiety attacks. You (I) generally have no choice but to ride it out and it's horrible. The only way to get out of it is to let it run it's course until you're mentally and emotionally exhausted, medicated, or you have someone who can pull you out in whatever way. A friend of mine slapped me once because they didn't know what to do once and it worked. so to be in that situation, and to KNOW what it's like and knowing only what you can handle in times like those, only know how you like to be helped out of an attack but not sure if the other does, you just try. which is what yoongi did.

I'm not going to say much more on the using sex as a way to feel again and loving things becoming harder and the way it associates to jungkook because *spoilers* and it's a whooooooooooole thing in one of the next parts but yes

her little conversation to kai hurt to write. as evil as it sounds, i'm kinda pleased it's making people cry because the tears were falling while I was writing. so to know i wasn't the only one is nice.

OC/ryujin dynamic next. both before and after. it's gonna be pain. i'm so sorry.

Reading this story feels like a chance to understand human emotion deeper, both mine and other people's. It's just always so important to get to know other people's way of feeling things and dealing with those feelings. And the way you write about emotions feels like the perfect opportunity to do that. Thank you for letting me learn through your writing and making me ask myself questions I might not have thought to ask.

A lot of these things are just rambling thoughts that your beautiful and evocative way of writing about emotion makes me think about for days after I've finished reading. But I hope that there's still something worthwhile in there, thank you for reading regardless and thank you for writing something that makes me feel and think so many things. 💕💕

and now here we are again, Ivi. Where you make me cry after I make you cry. Our fair exchange. Your words are what keeps me writing. Your in depth thoughts and views and reactions mean so much to me, i know i say it a lot, but it really freaking does.

I hope the next chapter and the ones after that keep you coming back and I can't wait to read your thoughts again.

Feeling in Chaos - Fall pt. 1 | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader | Yoongi x (f) reader

Genre: drama, angst, smut

AU: art college!au, friends to lovers, best friend’s brother

Wordcount: 10,198

Summary: Having to revisit somewhere full of memories for the first time, you ask a friend (?) for help.

Rating: M / 18+

Warnings: Language. Grief. Panic attacks. Y/n has PTSD and is learning how to get through it. Mentions of use of medication. Bad decisions. Jealousy. Self-loathing. Possibly problematic friendship/relationship. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please just skip this story.

Smut Warnings: oral (both f and m receiving). Protected sex. He gets a little rough at the end, but very vanilla considering what I usually write.

AN: Sorry for the long wait. The original decision was to have the entire season be their own chapters, but I didn’t want to make the wait time even longer, and the chapters would be over 50k words each. So the seasons get parts and you get updates faster! A reminder that you are free to dislike the way a character behaves and the choices they make and the words they say, especially when dealing with a trauma or grieving. But remember that doesn’t always make them who they are. People overreact, people underreact. Emotions are either heightened or taken away and it can cause a lot of trouble.

Thank you to my soulmate @playmetheclassics for beta/editing and for just dealing with me freaking out over how the story reads and if people will hate it and me basically spoiling it left and right. You're amazing. 💜

Banner and Divider by @classicscreations

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Y/N (6:47pm): Are you busy?

Yoongi (6:58 pm): For you? Never.

You roll your eyes, sitting in the corner of the library, backpack and canvas sitting on the table in front of you. You curled up into one of the chairs, deciding to wait at the library for his response rather than go home.

Y/N (7:00 pm): I’m sorry for ghosting this week…

Y/N (7:00 pm): School started, and it’s been a mess. 😔

Y/N (7:01 pm): But if you still wanted to hang out before group on Saturday, and are free right now, there’s somewhere I need to go and could use some support…

You hit send and feel the anxiety creeping in at the thought of his rejection and having to go alone. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait too long before he replies.

Yoongi (7:03 pm): Where do you want me to meet you?

You sigh in relief, texting him where you are and that you’d come out when he was there. He says he’d need about an hour, and you were happy to wait, trying to mentally prepare for a step in the grieving process you knew you weren’t ready for.

You get comfortable in the chair, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit sideways and leaning your head onto the headrest. You try to focus on keeping your breathing steady instead of the loud voices in your head screaming at you, but both are interrupted by the vibrations from your phone.

Incoming Call: 💜🍪Kookie📷💜

Fuck, I didn’t text him that I was staying after.

Sighing, you answer the phone, holding it up to your ear.

“Hmm?” Is the only thing you can get out. You’re never sure how to greet him anymore.

“Y/n? Where are you? I thought classes ended at four?”

“They did. I stayed after and spent time in Varon’s trying to complete my painting.”

“Did you?” You puff out a small laugh at the question.

“Nope.”

“You’ll get it done. I believe in you.” you wish he wouldn’t. “Are you on your way back?”

“Uhm…no…” you feel your body tensing up, “I’m actually going to go to the studio…see if I can finish it there.”

The line is silent. None of you have gone to the studio. It was the safe space for all four of you, and the idea of going back there was something you and Jungkook had discussed, but neither wanted to until Ryujin was ready.

“Are you with Ry?”

“No…I can’t wait for her to be ready, Koo. I have to get this done.” You hear a heavy sigh on the other line, followed by what sounds like clothing moving against one another.

“Okay. I’ll meet you there. And we can do it toget–”

“No,” you interrupt. “I’m fine, Jungkook. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not doing this by yourself, y/n.”

“I’m not.”

More silence.

“You’re not?”

“No…I’m going with someone else.” You wince at the confession, knowing you’re doing it again. You’re hurting him.

“Joshua?”

“No, he went home after class.”

“...is it that guy from last week? Your new sex buddy? Yongjin?” You groan, running your hand across your face in annoyance.

“His name’s Yoongi, Jungkook. Don’t even pretend not to remember his name. And yes, with him. I’m just waiting at the library for him to meet me here.”

The line stays silent again. You can only imagine the face he’s making on the other end right now. Eyebrows pinched together, jaw clenching as he gnaws on the side of his cheek. He’s probably glaring at the wall, wishing he had his punching bag in front of him. You almost check the phone to see if he hung up on you before you hear a big breath being taken.

“But he doesn’t—”

��Exactly, but he doesn’t. That’s the point, Jungkook,” you cut him off again, closing your eyes in frustration. ”Please, let me do this alone, with him, with someone who doesn’t know Kai. Someone who knows the pain of losing a sibling. I’m really fucking trying here, okay? I want to live a life worth living for Kai, and I can’t fucking do that if you keep coddling me like this. I love you, you know I love you, but I need someone else right now, okay? Please?”

You sniffle, using your free hand to wipe away the invisible tears you can’t bring yourself to let out anymore, and listen closely to the man on the other end of the call, not saying a word for a moment.

“Okay.” He mumbles it out reluctantly.

“Just…let me know if you need me, okay? Or at least text me when you’re there and when you’re back home, so I know you’re okay?” His voice cracks twice, and your heart with it, but you quietly agree to his terms, both saying goodbye and hanging up.

“Fuck!” you shout in a whisper against the back of the chair, voices in your head screaming at your mistakes in wording and ruining everything with Jungkook again.

You nearly jump to another universe at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder, turning quickly to smack the person touching you, only to find Yoongi. You can’t even bring yourself to yell at him, forcing yourself to a normal sitting position instead.

“Hey. You okay, love?”

You shake your head in response, grabbing your backpack and putting it on while Yoongi grabs the canvas before you can.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You shake your head again, grabbing his free hand and intertwining your fingers with his as you lead him out of the library and away from the school. It’s a quick walk from the campus, about six moderately sized blocks, but you both stay silent until you’re a block away from the studio. You feel a small tug on your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/n, I’m not doing whatever this is unless you talk to me.”

You turn to look at him, fighting off the many different emotions building up in your heart.

“I…it’s hard to explain. I’d rather ignore it and focus on why I called you, okay?”

“No. Not okay.” He tugs you closer, chests almost touching.

“What happened?” His tone softens as he stands the canvas on the ground against his leg to free his hand that moves a strand of hair out of your face.

You keep your eyes on the beautiful necklace around his neck. The little gold star-shaped pendant resting perfectly under the center of his clavicle with the initials MK carved into it. You wonder where he got it or who gave it to him.

“I just keep fucking things up with people, and I speak without thinking, and I’m just so tired of it. I’m tired of explaining my feelings. I’m tired of being treated like some basketcase or some fragile flower about to be crushed by the wind. I’m tired, Yoongi. So can we please drop this?”

He watches you closely, your eyes never stray from his chest, and you look exactly how you feel. Angry and exhausted and like you could use a room with a bunch of plates you can break. Your actions differ from your expressions, though, your hand squeezes onto his as if you’re scared and begging for help, looking for some sort of lifeline.

He knows you enough to know your actions are more than your reactions. The emotions you put on for people can easily be the opposite of what��s real. He sighs, gives a small nod before kissing your forehead, and agrees to drop it. He picks the canvas back up and lets you continue to lead the way silently.

You finally approach an old building that had been converted into an apartment complex, still maintaining its historic features. You punch in the code to unlock the doors, and Yoongi quietly follows as you enter an old elevator, closing the door and gate first before pressing the button that brings you to one of the top floors.

“So,” you say, taking in a deep breath as the elevator jolts and starts moving.

“Kai, Ryujin, Jungkook, and I are…were…are all into the arts, right? I’m painting and drawing, Jungkook photography, Ryujin fashion design, and Kai graphic design. We thought it’d be easier for us to have an art studio that we’d all share rather than each having our own because that’d be too expensive, ya know? And none of us really have the space to do it at our apartments. Kai and Jungkook maybe, but then Jungkook recently got into film and wanted his own darkroom, so…”

“Makes sense,” he nods along, watching you open the gate and opening the door of the desired floor.

“So we piled all our money together once Kai and Jungkook got accepted at our school, and bought this floor space in this office building and turned it into four rooms.” you explain as you play with the keys in your palm as you approach the door to your shared safe space, trying to delay the inevitable.

“The one immediately on the right is Ryujin’s room, the left is Jungkook’s, mine is the back left, and Kai’s…” you pause, forcing yourself to unlock the door and open it. You stay standing outside as the door swings open, revealing a dark room, lit only by the lights of the city and sky outside.

“Kai’s room is back, right.” Your voice falters, and Yoongi squeezes your hand to get you to look at him.

“This is your first time back, isn’t it?” you nod, chewing on your lip.

“Have you tried coming here before?” you shake your head.

“Okay, let’s go. You said back left?” After you give a quick nod, Yoongi brings your held hand up to his lips, giving a small kiss on the back of your hand before walking in and holding you close.

He turns on the light, scanning the room for your door. There are two giant L-shaped couches merged together in the main area, and a big tv hanging on the wall. A tiny kitchen is tucked in a corner of the place, and as you had stated, four doors in the open floor space. He finds the one that is painted multiple colors, with your name hiding amongst the smears of paint. You step in front of him to unlock it with a four-digit code, 0901, hearing the obnoxious clicking sound before the door finally starts to open. You quickly step inside, turning on the light and bringing your hand away from his finally.

Your room is exactly as you left it a few days before finals in the spring. It’s messy from all of the last-minute painting you had to do and there’s a wall with various finished canvases lined up against one another. As chaotic as it feels with all the different colors and the paint covering the floor and walls, it’s specifically organized. There’s a table that holds all your brushes, pens, and markers in various jars, separated by size and type. There’s a cabinet full of various paints organized by medium and brand. And the same can be said for the clean canvases and varying sketchbooks. There’s a smaller couch in the corner with a rainbow Squishmallow sitting on it, and a stool in the center, sitting in front of a giant empty easel.

“Wow.” is all Yoongi can bring himself to say as he walks up to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city and the school. You ignore him as you take the canvas from him and set it on the easel. You unpack your paint supplies, grabbing more from the cabinet and table, and organizing the tray next to the easel. You send a quick text to Jungkook that you’re in your studio and turn your location on to share with him while Yoongi has moved to the other wall and starts sifting through your finished pieces.

“Y/n, when you said you painted, I didn’t know you were actually this fucking good.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult? I can’t tell.” you narrow your eyes at him, a small smile forming on your lips.

“Trust me, love. It’s a fucking compliment. It’s - oh holy shit, this is nice!” He exclaims, pulling out the one you painted three years ago of a neighbor’s cat.

“Whose cat is this?”

“A neighbor from a few years ago. They moved as I was finishing it up for them. Never got their new address.” You watch him hold the canvas up in awe.

“Do you want it?”

His eyes snap to yours. “What?”

“You can have it, I have no use for it.”

“Are you sure?” you nod confidently.

“Yeah, put it in the cat cafe or something, I don’t really care.”

The grin that adorns his face is something you would love to paint one day. You take a mental photo of him, saving it for a day you feel inspired again. You can’t help but smile back, eyes darting to the floor when he puts it down next to the door.

“I’ll put it on the center of the wall in the room with the cats so everyone who comes in can see it.” He steps closer to you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So what are we doing here today?”

You give him the rundown of the canvas, showing him the picture of the oak tree you took after texting him, explain your inability to see the colors in the paint and your new instructions from Professor Varon to just paint with whatever.

He agrees to stick around while you paint, laying on your tiny couch and lets you tell him random stories about Kai while you make the smallest strokes on the canvas, trying to figure out what the colors are. You let Yoongi choose the colors at random, squeezing them onto the pallet in no specific order. You hate that you can’t tell which color is which. You can almost see the color red, but that’s about it.

This is going to look horrible.

An hour later, Yoongi’s places an order for food to be delivered and you stop painting, joining him on the two couches in the living area. You both eat in silence.

“You should go in there.” Your eyes find his, turning your head to find where he’s looking.

Kai’s door.

You look back to your food and shake your head.

“Nope. Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“I should wait for the others. We should do it together.”

“I guess, but he’s your brother before he’s Ryujin’s boyfriend or Jungkook’s best friend, right? Doesn’t that give you something like, I don’t know, seniority?”

“You mean priority?”

“Yeah, that!” He laughs, but you shake your head again.

“It might, but I can’t do it, not without them,” you speak so sternly, trying to end the conversation, but he doesn’t let up.

“You made it here without them, didn’t you?”

“No, I made it here with you.”

“Perfect! You can go in there with me, then.”

He puts his food down, grabs yours, doing the same before standing up and holding out his hand again.

“You have to do it at some point, love. Might as well be now.” You shake your head again, but he grabs your hands and pulls you up with little resistance on your part. You let him drag you closer to the door, but freeze when you’re actually in front of it.

It suddenly looks larger than before, like the door to a boss fight in a video game. It's the final boss and you’re too low of a level. You shouldn’t enter.

“I can’t do it.” You breathe out, feeling your lungs starting to collapse.

“Do you not know the code?”

“No, I know the code. I just…” you look down at the pin pad as the crushing weight of panic starts to settle on your chest again, making you feel heavy.

“I’m going to open the door and he’s not going to be in there. It’ll be like watching him die all over again.”

His big hands find their way to your face, forcing you to look at him.

“The way I see it, the longer you wait, the more painful it’s going to be. Trust me, I waited months before going into Karin’s room, and I regret waiting that long.” His thumbs soothe back and forth against your cheekbones as you sniffle.

“You think it’ll be like watching him die all over again right now? I promise you it’ll be even worse if you keep waiting.”

Your head pulls away only slightly, but enough to have Yoongi’s hands follow and readjust as you look up at him.

“Karin?”

He gives the smallest nod with the saddest smile.

“My sister.”

You offer a small smile in return, a small part of you thrilled that he’s slowly starting to talk about her. He never once mentioned her by name in group therapy, only ever calling her his sister.

“It’s a pretty name…” you quietly whisper, earning a light laugh from him. His eyes dart between yours like they’re searching for a way out of the conversation.

“Do you want to tell me the code and I’ll put it in?”

You sigh, really not wanting to do this. But if he’s willing to bring up his sister to you? Actually, say her name? Who are you to deny him?

“0412” you quietly mumble, eyes shut tight.

He moves to stand in front of you, a hand grabbing yours. You squeeze it like a lifeline while he starts punching in the code. You hear the lock clicking to unlock and it’s when the door starts to open you find your nails digging into the hand in yours.

He lets the door swing open, stepping in just enough so he can find the light switch, turning it on and backing back out before turning to you again.

“You ready? We don’t have to, if it feels like I’m pressuring you, I don’t mean to. I just—”

“Yoongi. It’s okay.” You look past him and get a glimpse of Kai’s room. You can see his big computer setup as well as a few of his drawing tablets.

He’s not at his desk, crouched over trying to finish a project. Your heart falters a little, the pain still very much still there, but oddly not as bad as you feared it would’ve been.

Yoongi steps aside, letting you slowly take the four steps it takes to get into Kai’s room. You take a deep breath when you get to the center of the room, Yoongi right behind you.

It’s exactly as he’s left it. Just the same as you did right after finals. The four of you had been so busy trying to cram as much fun as possible in the summer, that none of you thought to come back to the studio once the year was over.

There are sketches tossed around this desk. A notepad that looks full of sketches and other things taped to the sheets inside as well as some pages folded into shapes sits by his mouse. The various tech he kept buying to help improve his work was piled into a corner of the room. He has the same set-up of a couch and a giant window looking out over the city.

You hear a ruffle of papers and turn to see Yoongi delicately holding some sketches that were on the couch.

Snap.

“No! Stop touching it!” You rush to him, roughly taking the papers out of his hand and putting them back on the table. You try to smooth the crinkles you made out without touching the sketch itself but you can’t and instead, the tears you didn’t know were present start to fall from your face, landing on Kai’s drawing.

You ruined his sketch. This could’ve been the most important sketch to him and you ruined it with your stupid tears. You ruined it just like you ruined everything else.

I’m always fucking ruining everything, such a goddamn worthless piece of shit.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, it’s ruined.” You gasp, ignoring the ice-cold tightness around your lungs returning.

Everything hit all at once - like you were being crushed by a freight train and the only moments you could breathe were in between the various train cars running across your chest.

You drop to your knees, curling in on yourself to be as small as possible, palms pushing against your closed eyes, fingers trying to plug your ears to silence the bloodcurdling noises in your head. You try to breathe, you know you can, but it’s like your lungs refuse to listen to your brain. Your heart refuses to calm down and your brain feels like it’s going to explode. Everything feels wrong and never-ending.

Make it stop, make it stop, please just make it stop.

Are you thinking it or shouting it? You can’t tell anymore. Nothing seems real anymore. It’s just darkness and pain. It feels like you’re going to die. Maybe that’s okay. You’ll get to see Kai again.

Please, just let this stop.

It hurts so fucking much.

You feel two hands gently pull your hands away from your eyes and ears. You try to open them, but everything is dark and fuzzy. You can barely make out the boy squatting down in front of you that’s terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. He tries to wordlessly get you to match his breathing, but you can’t follow him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched it. I'm so fucking sorry. Come back to me, y/n. Fight through it, you’re right there.”

You’re right there.

No no no, you can’t think about that.

“Do you want the Ativan?” You hear him whisper and it takes so much energy to shake your head. You don’t want to be numb, you hate it.

Yoongi feels his heart pounding. He’s seen you have anxiety attacks, he’s seen you break down in group therapy, he’s seen your panic attacks, but he’s never seen one like this. He’s never heard you scream the things you’re screaming. It’s overwhelming and terrifying and he doesn’t know how to stop it, but he can’t just sit there and wait for you to come out of it. He wants to help. He needs to help. So he does the only thing he knows he can do to help steady your breathing.

Everything stops.

The voices, the tears, the pounding in your head, and your breathing all come to a halt the moment you feel his lips on yours.

It’s not romantic in any sense. His chapped lips are roughly pushed against yours that are wet with tears and hopefully not snot. There’s no movement save for his hands cupping your face, fingertips gently moving against the skin on the back of your neck.

The tightness around your lungs loosens and fades, and the pain in your head is back after the initial shock of the kiss, but it’s fading as well. Your pounding heart is now pounding for a different reason. You open your eyes to find his shut tight, tears barely escaping.

Your shaky hand reaches up, gently tugging his shirt. He slowly pulls away, eyes opening just enough to see your wide ones staring at him. Realizing what just happened, his hands drop from your face as he leans back some more, readying himself to stand back up.

“I’m so sor- sorry. I- I don’t know why…” you’ve never seen him stumble over words before. Sure, in group therapy he hesitates a lot, but that’s because he’s thinking of what to say next. This is different. This is fear.

He quickly stands up, trying not to disturb any of Kai’s things as he rushes out of the room. You stay seated on your knees, completely lost and confused about everything that just happened. It’s when you hear his keys being picked up that you force yourself to your feet and run out of your brother’s room, not even bothering to close the door.

When Yoongi starts to walk out of your room with his jacket halfway on, you’re already at the doorway. Your eyes are still wide, still processing what’s happening and what you are doing.

He looks afraid.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that without permission. I just, I didn’t know what to–”

Your lips are on his without a second thought, properly shutting him up. This kiss is a complete one-eighty from the previous, however. Your lips move against his, letting out a small gasp when his hands find your waist, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips and causing you both to moan. You tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him close as you walk him back to your couch, the sound of his jacket dropping to the floor barely noticed.

The back of his legs hit the couch and he brings you down with him as he sits down, your legs on either side of his, lips never parting. His hands finally move from your waist, one reaching up for your face, holding you close, while the other grabs a handful of your ass, dragging you closer to him. You get the hint, grinding your hips against his and pulling away from his lips as he lets out a groan.

His hand tries to bring your lips back to his but you move down, leaving small kisses along his jaw, neck, and Adam's apple. You pause when you see the pendant again, still resting perfectly where it should be. You admire the initials MK, now understanding who they belong to. You kiss just below it on his chest, where his heart should be, feeling him relax under the touch of your lips as you slide off him, knees dropping to the floor.

“You don’t have to…” you look up to meet Yoongi’s worried eyes, a mixture of lust, concern, and something else that you can’t quite place. His hands find yours on his thighs. “We can stop if you want.”

You shouldn’t do this. You’re just reacting to the adrenaline and soon, you’ll crash in exhaustion. You should not do this. Not with Yoongi. You should stop.

You shake your head.

“Please?” Your voice finally makes a sound, but just barely. It’s almost grating. Yoongi waits a moment before leaning forward to cup your face in his hands, bringing you in for a soft kiss.

“Okay.” He whispers against your lips. “Whatever you want, love.” He kisses you once more, letting you sit back while he lifts his hips to take off his joggers and underwear. He tosses them aside, not caring about where they land when you’re crawling back to him

When you had sex with Yoongi the first time, you told him it was just sex. You told him the rules would be no kissing, no oral, and nothing that would be considered lovemaking or too intimate. He agreed, and it’s been fine for both of you.

Sure, sometimes he’d try to kiss you, but you wrote it off as him just being in the moment and were always able to deny him. You’ve given him a handjob, and he’s absolutely fingered you into oblivion, but never what you were about to do.

You lightly kiss his knee, urging him to spread his legs and scoot forward so you can fit between them, kissing up his soft thighs until you’re finally where you want to be. Your eyes meet his one more time for permission, waiting for the small nod he gives you before you gently hold his erection up, giving soft kisses and kitten licks up the base, the hisses coming from his mouth urging you to keep going as you reach the tip.

“Please don’t tease, love.” A hand finds its way into your hair and tugs as your tongue dances along the tip. You smile to yourself, laying your tongue flat and sliding him down your throat in one go until your nose barely touches his pelvis. The hand not tangled in your hair smacks down on the couch cushion beside him as he groans at the sudden overwhelming pleasure of your throat wrapped perfectly around him.

“Fuck. Just like that.” His hand in your hair brings you up for a moment before easing your mouth back down around his cock. You let out a small moan around him, letting your gag reflex kick in just enough to drag another groan out from his chest as you begin moving up and down, your hands gripping his thighs.

“Wait, wait, love, wait.” He pulls you off him, watching you take in a deep breath, a mixture of spit and precum trailing down your chin. “Fuck, get up here.” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.

Yoongi pulls you back up to the couch, keeping your lips on his as you pull off your leggings before crawling back onto his lap. Big hands massage your thighs as you pull away long enough to remove your baggy sweater and bra, tossing them next to his pants. You surge forward to kiss him again but he doesn’t let you, hands sliding down your waist to hold you back a distance to admire your body.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He whispers it mostly to himself, a hand trailing lower, his thumb gently stroking just above where you want him over your underwear. You both look down to watch as his thumb finds its destination, rubbing the cloth against your wet folds. You hear Yoongi let out a sigh; neither of you were aware he was holding.

“Tell me I can finally taste you, love.” Your eyes flit up to his half-closed ones.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be doing any of this. You shouldn’t have let him kiss you, shouldn’t have kissed him back, shouldn’t have gone down on him, and you absolutely shouldn’t let him go down on you. You shouldn’t do this. You should tell him no and make him leave. Finish your painting and text Jungkook when you’re home.

Fuck, you’re going to have to text Jungkook later.

You need to send Yoongi home. Get him away from you.

End this.

End it now before it gets worse.

“Okay.” You nod, though the voices in your head are screaming at you. You ignore them, the feeling that Yoongi’s fingers provide feels too good, and you just want to feel good again after the pain in Kai’s room.

“Yeah?” Yoongi smiles, flipping you over to lay your back against the couch once you give him a small smile and another nod.

He barely gives you enough time to readjust before he’s burying his face between your legs, his tongue slowly dancing along the wet patch of your underwear, pausing only to listen to your moans.

“I could listen to your moans all day and never get tired of it.” You huff out a small laugh in response, a small gasp at the end when Yoongi lifts your hips enough to pull your underwear off.

Small wet kisses trail from your right knee to your inner thigh and are repeated on your left. Your breath catches with every kiss and it’s driving you crazy. You watch him as he kisses your lower stomach and anywhere he can that isn’t your glistening and throbbing center. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to say he can have you. Your hand reaches for his head, tugging his hair.

“Stop…” you breathe out. He sits up immediately, hovering over you.

“Stop? What happened? What’s wrong? What did I do? I’m sorry, I—”

“No.” You kiss him to shut up, “stop teasing. I can’t take it.”

The laugh he lets out is going to haunt you later. But for now, it’s music to your ears and you even join in as his head drops to your neck, kissing it once before moving back down.

He doesn’t even wait, licking straight up your folds before latching around your clit.

“Fuck!” You buck your hips up and his arms wrap around your hips, keeping you down as he devours you like a man starved.

You knew he was insanely good with his fingers, you didn’t expect this though. To be turned into a moaning mess just from his mouth. The intense pleasure builds up so fast and so harshly that you can barely hear him, only feel him moaning against your pussy. It’s when he inserts two fingers while sucking harshly on your clit that you lose it.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna…” your hands return to his hair, but instead of pulling him away from you, you press him closer, encouraging him to continue. “I”m close, Yoongi. Don’t fucking stop.”

He groans against you and it doesn’t take long before you’re coming undone for him, unable to control your hips or the tight grip you have on his hair. You come hard, tears spilling from your eyes as you try to remember how to breathe. You haven’t come this hard in months, writing it off immediately as not having anyone go down on you since Jihyo.

Yoongi doesn’t pull away until you’ve come down from your orgasm, almost bringing out a second one just because he can. But your whimpers from the overstimulation force him away, crawling back over you to kiss you again.

“You okay to keep going?” He mumbles his question against your lips and skin as he trails down your neck, settling behind your ear. He feels you nod against him and with one more kiss, he crawls off of you in search of his wallet in his jacket to get a condom.

You shouldn’t do this. You should tell him you’ve changed your mind. He should leave. You’ve already broken so many rules, rules you made with him that you just tossed out the window in a moment of weakness. When he comes back, you should push him away, ban his lips from yours, make him get dressed and leave.

Finish your painting.

Text Jungkook.

You’re doing it again, you’re hurting him. You told him it was just sex.

You lied.

Fuck, why did you lie again?

You shouldn’t let Yoongi kiss you anymore.

You shouldn’t.

But his lips are addicting and you crave them.

So when he comes back, the condom already rolled over his erection, you pull him down to you by his shirt, capturing his lips with yours. His hands wander your body as he settles between your legs, letting one hand grab your hip while the other guides his cock to your entrance, rubbing the head against your clit and swallowing your moans. When he pulls away from your lips for what feels like the last time, he looks up at you, soft eyes widening briefly as if he just realized what was happening.

“Hey…”

“Hi…” you whisper back, one of your hands leaving the tight grasp on his shirt to toy with the little pendant dangling from his neck.

“We’re breaking every rule, y/n…” The hand that was positioning himself moves up to push a piece of hair out of your face. You offer a sad smile in return.

“I know.” your voice is barely audible, trying to keep it together.

“We should stop.” But he doesn’t move.

“We should,” and neither do you, “but…”

“But?” an eyebrow raises and you can’t look at him anymore, focusing only on the pendant.

“I don’t want to.” The words barely squeak out of you. When he doesn’t respond, you have to force yourself to look back at him. “To stop, I mean. I don’t…I don’t want to stop.” Eyes cast back down to the pendant. “If you don’t want to, I mean.”

You feel his eyes on you as the silence continues.

He suggested stopping first, so he probably wanted to stop. You shouldn’t have said anything and just stopped like he clearly wanted to. Now he probably thinks he has to go through with it just to make you happy. Why the hell did you say you didn’t want to stop?

You need to stop, and you shouldn’t continue.

But wanting to stop and needing to stop are two very different things.

“I want to if you want to, y/n. This is all your decision, love.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lower lip as you look down admiring the man on top of you. You’re completely naked, but he still has his shirt on, covering up the scars you’ve only gotten glimpses of. You snake a hand down to crawl underneath the shirt, gently running the pads of your fingers across the part of a scar you have seen. Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat as he rests his forehead against yours, eyes shut. You feel his abs tensing, like they’re scared of you, before relaxing against your touch. You watch him for a moment, unable to look anywhere else.

Suddenly want and need are the same thing.

Suddenly this is more than sex.

This is more than feelings.

This is comfort. Safety. A need and a want to feel again; to not be afraid all of the time. And to forget.

Yoongi is that for you whether you want to admit it or not. Jungkook is your safety blanket, he’s what keeps you warm and tucked away when you’re scared. But a safety blanket can be suffocating sometimes. You need room to breathe, to forget and do stupid shit you’re afraid of, knowing there’s someone by your side feeling the same way.

Yoongi.

“Okay.” You whisper, placing a small kiss on his nose. His eyes fly open to meet yours. A grin threatening to escape.

“Okay? You’re okay with this?” He returns your nose kiss when you say yes, peppering your face with more after.

Once you’re giggling from the kiss attack, he lines himself back up with you, slowly pushing in. You wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck, leaving little love bites that you’ll regret later but love for now.

This stretch is different that the other times you’ve had sex with Yoongi. Usually, it’s fast and rough, barely enough time to feel the stretch or adapt to it. This time, Yoongi takes it slow, pushing in inch by inch until he is fully buried inside of you. He stills for a moment, kissing along your neck.

“So tight, so perfect.” He mumbles against your throat, smiling when he feels your breath catch in your throat after he slowly pulls out and rolls his hips back into you as deep as possible. Your nails dig into his shoulders at the sensation and your back arches up towards him.

He takes it agonizingly slowly. You love it for the new sensation of pleasure it gives, but you hate it because it’s allowing you to think.

“Yoongi. Harder, please.” You moan out, a hand finding its way to his blonde hair and tangling your fingers in it. You feel a puff of air against your neck when Yoongi brings himself up to look at you.

“If we’re breaking your rules, love. We’re breaking all of them.”

You whine, bringing his grinning lips back to yours in a searing kiss.

“Please, Yoongi. I need it.” You beg.

You never beg, not with him. Every time you had sex, you would become the sweet submissive that didn’t speak unless told to when he would ruin you in his bed. Which was fine, it was part of the last rule. Nothing near lovemaking or too intimate. And hard, rough, and silent felt like the perfect method to avoid breaking that rule.

“Please.” Your lips trail from his to his chin, “ruin me like usual, please. Please, I just want to feel you.” You kiss along his jaw and down to the column of his neck.

“Please?”

He says nothing, but you feel the growl in his throat against your lips. He takes your hand away from his hair, bringing your other hand with it, pinning them both above your head. He rests his forehead against yours again, taking a deep breath before slamming his hips into yours without warning. You yelp a moan and he lets out a breathy laugh as he does it again.

“Is that what you want?” He does it again. “You want me to destroy this perfect cunt?” Another harsh thrust, rolling his hips so he gets deeper than before. “Want me to make it mine?”

“Yes. Yes, Yoongi, please. More.” You cry out, writhing underneath him, trying to make more friction.

He picks up the pace, and it feels back to what it was. Yoongi relentlessly fucking you, flipping you over at one point to be on your hands and knees as he takes you from behind, spanking you until your ass turns red.

When you alert him to being close to coming, his hand slides under you to rub circles against your clit. He pants, leaning over to place kisses on your shoulder as you come undone, clenching around him and losing the ability to hold yourself up. His orgasm quickly follows yours, spilling into the condom.

It’s silent for a moment, both of you struggling to breathe. After what felt like an hour, but was probably not even two minutes, Yoongi finds the strength to pull out, removing the condom and throwing it away. He rubs the parts of your skin that are red and sore, quietly apologizing when you wince.

“I’m going to find something to clean you up with, okay?” You slowly nod at his whisper, eyes feeling heavy, all the emotions suddenly becoming a pile of exhaustion.

It’s like your brain’s putting on a presentation being your eyelids, replaying the phone call with Jungkook, the panic attack in Kai’s room, the split-second decision to stop Yoongi from leaving, and the words said between you two.

You fucked up.

Again.

You don’t hear him leave the room, and barely notice his return or the feeling of him cleaning you or helping you get your sweater and underwear back on, too mentally and physically exhausted to do or say anything.

You do feel when he lays down on the couch, bringing you against him for the usual after-sex cuddle. His arm snakes around your back, resting on your waist while yours rests on his stomach, your face burying into his neck.

“You’re going to regret this later, aren’t you?” His voice is a low whisper, almost scared of asking. Your fingers find the hemline of his shirt, playing with the fabric and the loose threads.

“I don’t know…” Your reply is weak, cracking on the final word, and you can feel the tears start to form. So you shut your eyes, holding them back and instead listening to his breathing.

He doesn’t respond, just holds you closer and he seems to fall asleep, you joining a moment later.

When you wake up a few hours later, you and Yoongi have barely moved. His hand found a way up to your hair and the other hand was placed on your arm that was draped across his stomach. It felt warm, almost safe, but wrong.

So slowly, you pull yourself away from him, slipping off the couch without waking him up and sneak out to the little kitchen. Your hands shake as you pour out a glass of water, drinking as much as you can in one go. You repeat it two more times before your eyes land on the open door to your brother’s room. The sharp tug on your heart forces you to walk in.

It looks different than it did a few hours ago. Darker, abandoned, but still familiar. You sit in his chair, spinning slowly around to admire the way he decorated the studio.

A giant whiteboard with ideas that you don’t understand listed with random drawings you and Ryujin made one night in the bottom right corner. You did that months before finals, and he never erased them. Behind the whiteboard, was a wall painted completely in blackboard paint. He spent an entire day with Jungkook painting that wall before he realized how much he hated chalk. It quickly became doodle central, where the four of you drew randomly while bored or in a funk.

Right above the couch is one of the first drawings you did on the wall, an ambigram of the first letter of your names. Jungkook half-jokingly suggested the group get it tattooed one day.

This room is the same layout as yours, but rather than having the giant window wall showing the city below, he had wall-to-floor shades that would cover during the daytime so he wouldn’t have any glare on his monstrous computer setup. He always got so dramatic when you or Ryujin would try to use it, but never with Jungkook.

You reach out to turn it on, but freeze as your finger barely brushes over it.

They should be here. Ryujin should be here.

You pull your hand away, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging yourself in his chair as it spins a little from the adjustment.

“I miss you, baby brother. So much.” You softly whisper, leaning your head back and staring at the ceiling plastered with tiny plastic stars that are supposed to glow in the dark, but never do thanks to the heavy shades.

“I think I messed up tonight. But when am I not messing up, right?” A weak chuckle escapes your lips. “Y/n y/l/n, the screw-up of the family. Always finding a way to ruin a good thing in the biggest way possible…” you feel the tears slowly fall down your face and sniffle.

“But I think…I think this time, I really screwed up. And I can’t fix it. And I don’t know what to do.” You feel a small burn on your hand and look down to find yourself scratching the back of your hand again.

“Fuck. I hate this, Kai.” You mumble, soothing the burn with your thumb. “I need your help and it’s killing me that you’re not here.”

You sigh when there’s no response, forcing yourself out of his chair, stepping out of his room, and closing the door.

Yoongi is still fast asleep on your couch, a sharp stabbing feeling piercing your heart at the sight of him. He looks so content and at peace that you’re jealous of his ability to sleep so soundly without the voices yelling.

Your attention turns to the easel in the center of the room with the canvas barely painted. The paint still looks like various shades of black and white. Like a blurry mess of colors that you know are there but can’t see.

You pick it up, moving the easel away and propping the canvas against the pile of finished paintings on the floor. Dimming the lights, you sit down in front of it on the floor, putting your AirPods in and turning your Spotify on shuffle.

You bring up the photo of the tree you took earlier and set it next to the canvas and roll up your sleeves. You grab a brush, dip it in a random paint Yoongi picked out earlier, take a deep breath, and just go for it.

Somehow two hours have passed, and you’re applying the finishing touches, music still blasting in your ears so loud that you jump when you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders.

You turn to see a sleepy Yoongi tilting his head at you, mouth moving. You pause the music, take the AirPods out and place them next to your phone.

“Sorry for scaring you.” His voice is rough from the nap and you can’t help but smile when he kisses your temple.

“It’s okay.” You nod, letting out a small gasp when he sits behind you, lifting and pulling you back to sit on his lap, and scooting forward so you can keep painting. His arms wrap around your waist, letting them rest on your lap while his chin rests on your shoulder.

“Looks good, love.”

“I still can’t see the colors, though.” You mumble as you lean back into his chest to get a better view of the canvas, his arms tightening around you as you do.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s still beautiful.” He holds you close, leaving a few feather kisses on your shoulder, smiling to himself when he sees your skin grow goosebumps.

“What colors did you put on the palette anyway? Just so I have an idea of whatever the hell this is.” His laugh against your skin makes you smile in return. You pull one of his arms away from you, laying it flat and upside down on your lap as you use the brush to paint across his forearm, hoping you’d be able to see the color.

“I can’t tell you, love. You’ll know when you’re ready to see it. But it is a beautiful tree. Why’d you pick it?”

“It’s the giant oak tree in the middle of campus. We scheduled our classes together so there was always a time when we could sit together and just hang out, work on assignments, enjoy the weather, anything really. Always at the tree. It’s in Kai’s logo, it’s Jungkook’s favorite thing to photograph. Ryujin literally designed a dress based on this dumb tree.” You laugh, continuing to paint on his arm. You can’t see what color you’re using, but guessing from how dark it is, it’s something that contrasts perfectly with his skin.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well,” his free arm unwraps from your waist, grabbing a different brush and painting music notes across the top of your thigh near your knee. “They all have the tree attached to something with their art. A hidden meaning of inspiration…what’s yours?”

You watch him paint on your leg what looks to be a specific pattern of music notes.

“I…I don’t know,” you admit with a whisper, putting your paintbrush down and resting your hands in your lap. “It’s just where I knew I could always find any of them. There or here, my safety zones.”

“So then this piece, even though you can’t see the colors right now, and the feeling of safety with it…that’s your hidden meaning and inspiration.”

You sigh, sinking a little further against his chest. You stare at the canvas, trying to see anything in the tree that, to you, is just a black and white tree on a canvas surrounded by colorful paintings all around it. A hideous darkness amongst bright and beautiful colors.

How you feel every day without your brother by your side.

“I guess.” You finally say, eyes flicking to his hand, putting the brush down and returning around your waist. You both stay silent for a moment, admiring your canvas. Your eyelids start to feel heavy, and you can feel them closing when you hear Yoongi speak.

“Fall was Karin’s favorite time of year.”

You freeze, eyes flying open at the mention of his sister.

“Yeah?” your voice cracks, and if Yoongi notices it, he ignores it.

“Yeah. She was obsessed with the colors of the leaves, the fall drinks like that disgusting pumpkin spice latte, the fall outfits, the weather, all of it. It would've been fall if she could have one season all year round.”

You don’t respond. The feeling of happiness over him talking about his sister was too overwhelming. He rarely discussed her in group therapy, never spoke her name until tonight, and always changed the conversation topic .

“We would go to the pumpkin patch every year and pick out the quote ‘undesirable’ pumpkins, and she’d make pumpkin pie with my mom.” He laughs, but it’s sad. You want to turn around and comfort him, but you stay frozen in his arms, your thumb pressing into the space between your other thumb and index finger.

“She wanted to learn how to bake so badly. To be like our mother and know all the family recipes. She wanted to be the one to make all the Christmas cookies every year, to be in charge of pies during the holidays, make everyone’s birthday cakes…”

His voice trails off, burying his face into your shoulder in an attempt to hide from the silence. Your mind is racing with different things to say. You have no idea how to comfort him. No idea how to tell him he’ll be okay. How can you? When you don’t even believe it when someone says it to you? So you say the only thing you can think of.

“I make a mean pumpkin pie.”

You can feel his torso shake as he laughs against your shoulder. He lifts his head, resting his cheek on your shoulder so he can look at you.

“Yeah? You bake?”

“Sometimes. Or I used to, before Kai… I would stress bake.”

“Stress baking? That’s new.” You shake your head slightly.

“Not really. I don’t know. There’s just something satisfying about baking when stressed. It’s like you’re baking your problems into the baked goods, and then you let other people eat it, thus taking away the stress.”

“Hmm…I like that. Telling everyone your secrets without saying a word.” His voice is quiet as his hands slide away from your waist, landing on your hands.

He pulls them apart, fingers intertwining with both, and goes back to hugging you, technically making you hug yourself. You slouch further against him, his lips right next to your ear.

“Would you want to go to a pumpkin patch with me?” His voice is hesitant. He knows he’s walking a fine line in asking you to go out with him. But he has to at least try.

You lean to the side a little, turning to look at the man whose arms are wrapped around you and whose lap you’re sitting in. Your eyes meet, and you can’t help but melt under his gaze. It’s warm and hopeful, and you want so badly to give in to the chance that maybe it could work.

You should say no.

End this.

End it now and pretend nothing ever happened.

End this.

“Okay,” your answer is barely audible to either of you, but his soft smile that he’s trying to hide confirms that he did hear you.

“Okay.” He repeats it back, giving a small nod against your shoulder.

You bring your gaze back to the painting, no longer trying to see the colors, just needing an excuse to not look at him anymore. You lose your sense of reasoning around him, and you hate it. But you love having him around. There’s no winning situation when it comes to Yoongi, especially if Jungkook finds out.

“Hey.” Yoongi’s voice pulls you out of your little mental spiral, and you look back at him, blinking away the tears you hadn’t noticed forming. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod quickly, making him let go of one of your hands so you can quickly wipe the tears. “I don’t know. It’s just a lot happening at once. I don’t know what’s what anymore.”

“That’s fair. But it’s okay, love. I’m here as long as you need me.”

You wish he didn’t say that.

You don’t reply, instead just giving another small nod. The hand that lets go of yours reaches up for your cheek, turning you to stay facing him.

“I know this is all happening at once, y/n. We’ve both been through something really shitty, and maybe this is a terrible idea.” Your eyes widen in panic, you know where this is going and immediately start preparing for a way out.

“But I think it goes without saying that I really like–”

You thank every god to ever exist when your phone rings. You lean forward to grab the device, saving you from an awkward conversation, sliding off his lap in the process.

Incoming Call: 🍞Ry-Bread👗

“Oh, fuck,” you stand up, eyes flicking from your phone to Yoongi sitting on the floor, looking confused and almost hurt, and back to your phone.

“I’m sorry. She…she rarely calls now,” you mutter, answering the phone before he can say anything and stepping into the living area.

“Ry? Everything okay?” You ask hesitantly, pacing around the couch.

The last time she called was three weeks ago, sobbing hysterically about how Kai’s death wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t date Jihyo. If you had just stopped sleeping or dating around, your brother wouldn’t be dead. So naturally, you’re terrified of what’s to come from the other line.

“Y/n? Y/n, I need you. I fucked up. Please, y/n. I know you hate me. I’m sorry. I’m so so so sorry. But please, I need you.”

Well, that’s different.

“Ry, where are you?”

“I’m at a club. The one by my work.” She sounds so broken and so drunk that your heart feels heavy just listening to her.

“What happened, Ry? Are you safe? Are you okay?” You put the phone on speaker and return to your room, walking right past Yoongi sitting on the couch, pants already back on. You put the phone on the table as you search for your leggings and bra.

“I’m okay. I just…my ride left me, and I can’t…I can’t get home.” Her mumbles are soft, tired, and hard to understand as you toss your clothes on, quickly moving to find your bag and keys.

“Are there any Ubers or taxis in the area?”

“No. Just come get me, please.”

“Okay, Ry, I’m on the way. Please, stay in the club until I’m there, okay? Promise me?” She softly agrees, and you hang up the phone, finally turning to Yoongi, who’s ready to go.

“Is she okay?” he questions as if he didn’t just listen to your phone call.

“I think so? I don’t know. This is new. I have to go get her.”

“You’re going to walk over there?”

“I have no choice, Yoongi.” Your shoulders shrug as you usher him out the door and close it behind you, leaving the canvas behind. you decide it’s easier to just come back for it before class than going to a club with it in your hand. You make sure all the lights are off before locking up the front door as you both exit.

“You do have a choice, y/n. The bus should still be running.”

“I’m not getting on the bus.”

“I’m sure there’s a rideshare in this area.”

“I’m not letting a stranger drive.” You state as you both get in the elevator.

“We can go back to the library, I’ll get my car, and I can take you over there and take you two home.”

“I’ve never experienced you driving. You’re as much of a stranger in that department as any taxi driver.” You bite back, quickly exiting when the elevator reaches the bottom floor.

“Not if you let me try.”

“I don’t want you to try. I don’t need help right now, Yoongi. I just need to get to Ryujin. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you on Saturday.” You walk faster out the front door, turning down the sidewalk in the direction of Ryujin’s work. It’s not that far from the studio, but it’s starting to get chilly out, and your sweater is thin.

“Y/n, it’s one in the morning. You’re not walking by yourself! I’ll come with you.” Yoongi practically shouts as he tries to catch up to you.

“I’ll be fine.” You snap, turning to him when he finally does make it to you. That same look of confusion and hurt from earlier looks like the same look you often see on another man’s face, and you have to stop yourself and take a breath.

“I need to help her alone, Yoongi. It’s the opposite direction of the school so it’s better if you just go home and I’ll go find Ry and take her home. I’ll be fine.”

“Y/n, you’re insane if you think I’m going to let you go alone.”

“Then I guess I’m insane!” You shout, not giving a damn about the time or the fact that you’re outside.

“Thank you, Yoongi, for helping me finish my painting. Thank you for forcing me to go into Kai’s room, and thank you for helping me through my panic attack. But, fuck, I have to go, so just drop it and go home. I’ll text you when I get there if you want.”

Yoongi sighs, not wanting to bother with arguing with you. He knows he won’t win.

“Fine. But if anything feels off, let me know, and I’ll be there immediately.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” He snaps with an extra hint of an attitude. You ignore it as you both turn to walk in the opposite direction of one another.

You’re going to have to apologize later. You’re always apologizing. It’s exhausting.

#fic reviews #fic: feeling in chaos

174 notes · View notes

rinusagitora · 4 years ago

Text

Another empty seat in the city of ghosts.

Fandom: BLEACH

Characters: Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, Kisuke Urahara, Tessai Tsukabishi, Ururu Tsumugiya, Jinta Hanakari, Yuzu Kurosaki, Ichigo Kurosaki, Karin Kurosaki

Pairings: HitsuKarin, others not mentioned

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. Chapter 1/8. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families; Karin has taken her life. What follows is a maelstrom of emotion.

AO3

It was hard to believe that, only days ago, Karin took her own life.

Toushirou saw it coming from miles and miles away. He was the one who cleaned up her cut wrists. Hurried over when she was suffering. But it wasn't enough.

Ultimately, Karin got what she wanted: a chance to be a shinigami.

Toushirou and Momo were being processed by the gate guardians. Following Aizen's desertion, they'd tightened up gateways to other dimensions. Now, captains and lieutenants were unable to travel without permission, unless they wanted to receive potentially fatal electrocution from the sigils staining their skins.

But they passed through later. Upstairs, Kisuke Urahara was showing them their gigai.

"Hinamori-fukutaichou, I'm afraid this is vastly different from your last gigai. Since your stay is short-term, it's more or less a... silhouette. Only purposes being harboring your soul, and suppressing your powers. Since it's a ceremony with so many powered folks packed together, we're trying this to avoid hollow attacks."

"Aye," Momo replied, nodding.

"Yours is similar, Hitsugaya."

Toushirou frowned. "It's Hitsugaya-taichou," he corrected Kisuke. Kisuke merely chuckled. He probably blamed Toushirou for Karin's suicide as well. Like he'd talk her into something so traumatic. Asshole.

"Yes... yours is similar, of course, except for... well, deadened nerves. Kurosaki Yuzu is livid."

"Fuck me..." he grumbled.

"I'd rather not, but I'd be prepared for a slap or two. Hopefully, she leaves the nether region alone, but if not, it is equally as dead."

"Thanks for the heads up," Toushirou said. "Where is Karin?"

"The temple, with Kurosaki Ichigo. He's kept a tight leash on her since the... the..." Kisuke couldn't finish. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Thank you," Toushirou said. As much as he hated Kisuke, Toushirou knew Kisuke was fond of Karin, perhaps as fond as his children were.

"Well, I will see you two there... I have to get ready for the memorial service."

"Thank you, Urahara-san. Take care."

He and Momo stepped into their gigai, prepped with black kimono, although Momo's hem and sleeves were adorned with flowers. Lilies and marigolds. How appropriate.

"You remembered the envelope?"

"Of course," Momo replied, straightening her collar. "The car is waiting. Shall we?"

"Aye."

On the drive over, Momo lit her pipe. Toushirou was never particularly fond of tobacco, or how his sister's habit ruined her skin, but given what was to come, he could sure use a puff. Or a drink.

Maybe he should've brought Rangiku... She didn't cope much better during funerals, but she, at least, would have something that she was willing to share to take off the edge. Very much unlike Momo. The only thing she ever really shared with him was conversation. Practically force-fed him, refrained from sharing the shit he cared about.

They came to a stop before the temple. Many were filing in. Toushirou recognized a few. Uryuu arrived just before them, Hiyori loitered in the doorway. Many he didn't recognize.

Jinta and Ururu were there with their other father Tessai. They bowed in unison.

"Yuzu is livid," Ururu said.

"So Urahara told us."

"I stand by her."

Tessai knocked Ururu upside her head. "Enough, honey," he warned, then turned to Toushirou and Momo. "Thank you for coming. Karin-chan will be pleased."

"I imagine," Momo replied, still smoking. "What should we expect from Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"We're keeping him in line if Yuzu doesn't," Jinta replied. "He agreed to keep the peace when Tou-tou and he talked."

"And the Kurosaki girl?" Momo asked.

"Yuzu?"

"Nay, the one we're here for."

Ururu looked inside. "She's... not crying. I think she's distancing herself from this ordeal."

"Perhaps it's for the better."

Tessai said, "Hand-off will occur before cremation. Kurosaki Isshin only agreed to allow us in for the service since Karin asked, but the burial is for family and Kurosaki Ichigo's close friends only."

"I see Kuchiki-fukutaichou as well."

"She won't be causing trouble. She's here as a family friend."

Toushirou and Momo bowed again. "Many thanks," Toushirou said. "We'll head in."

Rukia was the first to spot them. She strode over. "Neither of you are welcome. Please leave before Yuzu sees you."

"The deceased requested us, and the patriarch has permitted us entry," he replied. Everyone was so fucking hostile...

"No matter. Do you want to start shit?" she hissed.

Momo said, "We haven't started anything, Kuchiki-fukutaichou. Besides... do you think it wise to start shit here? Our powers are merely dampened, but I know for a fact there are enough of us gathered here to alert trouble if contention brews."

Before Rukia could reply, Yuzu stormed over. Rukia quickly escaped.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Your father said we were welcomed to the ceremony," he said.

She jabbed a finger against his chest. "You may as well have murdered my sister! I don't want you here!"

Toushirou sighed. "And I do?"

"And who is this skank?" Yuzu hissed, jerking her chin to Momo.

"My sister." Toushirou frowned. "Don't treat her like my mistress."

Momo encased Yuzu's hands. "We are here to grieve just as ye. I understand how difficult this is. My husband passed during a tumultuous time... We hadn't time to bury him, either."

Toushirou almost rolled his eyes. Momo learned how to lie from the best. But it worked. Yuzu relaxed.

"I'm sorry. It's been... it's been a long couple of days."

"There's nothing to apologize for, Kurosaki-san." Momo bowed. "If you need anything, please let me know. I haven't service at home, but Urahara-san can reach me if needed."

"Thank you."

"May we take a seat?"

"In the back, please. The front rows are taken."

"Aye. Thank you again, Kurosaki-san."

Momo and Toushirou took a seat. Because of their gigai suppressing their powers, Toushirou was unable to see Karin, although knew she was there. There were too many people of strong reiatsu concentrated in the temple. It risked a hollow attack. The dampening was meant as a security measure.

The Seireitei owed Ichigo too much to go against a small favor, however cruel it was to Karin.

"I can see why Kurosaki-san is so upset," Momo said.

"Karin was in pain," he insisted.

"I'm in no position to judge her," Momo reminded Toushirou. "But look at the Kurosaki family... Stiff as boards. The little one is the only one weeping, and neither of them is consoling her."

"They're... dysfunctional. I'm sure she refused it."

"For good reason?"

"Aye. They... nay, we all, have lied to her for years. I'm sure she harbors conflicting feelings."

Momo hummed. "Aye."

Toushirou took a good look at the altar, surrounded by white lilies. He frowned. White was never Karin's color. Blacks, reds... Hydrangeas or marigolds would've been more appropriate.

But she was beautiful in her photo. Smiling, youthful. It made him mad too. She was happy with him. With Jinta and Ururu, not some sad, doctored school photo.

Thankfully, Momo didn't seem to pick up on his internal tantrum, merely smoked.

The time came for the service. A priest stepped up and uttered a sutra. Toushirou admittedly zoned out during it. None of it concerned them. What did was Karin. She was in there, but he was unable to console her, take her to her new home, to ease her pain... It was bullshit. Complete bullshit.

Once the service came to an end, Toushirou and Momo quickly escaped, joining Kisuke outside.

"I don't have much time... I'm going to the cremation as well," he said.

They wordlessly stepped out of their gigai. They were tucked into the back of a van and covered with a shimmery sheet that made them completely vanish. Momo and he bowed.

"Best of, Urahara-san."

"Kurosaki will meet you by the aqueduct under an overpass. It's in the center of town," he explained. "Anticipate some... some shit from him too. He's very upset."

"Thanks."

With that as their goodbye, they sped off to the heart of Karakura. Toushirou saw Ichigo's hair from the sky, and they sunk to the ground.

The second Toushirou saw Ichigo, he wanted to strangle him. It felt like they were sizing each other up. Toushirou was sure to lose an arm, but it would've been satisfying clocking him.

Karin was sitting on a bench. There was still a generous amount of chain leftover, thankfully. Toushirou just hoped she hadn't experienced the chain consuming itself... the immense pain.

Toushirou couldn't bring himself to bow to Ichigo, but Momo did. "Thank you for allowing us into your sister's service, Kurosaki-sama."

"It wasn't my choice."

"Nonetheless," Momo said, smiling. "I'd like this to be done in an as expeditious manner as possible."

Karin hopped to her feet. Toushirou instantly wanted to sweep her off her feet and carry her like his bride into the other world, away from that mess. That nightmare. "Let's go," she said.

"Hang on." Ichigo stopped her with his arm out shooting. His eyes bore into Toushirou's, and he glared back. "I want him to admit his fault in this."

"Jesus Christ!" Karin shrieked. "I killed myself because there's nothing for me here! Toushirou had nothing to fucking do with it."

"Bullshit! He had to have said something."

"It's your fault I killed myself, alright? It's all your fault! I got tired of getting steamrolled and gaslit by you so I killed myself to get the hell away from you!" Karin ducked his arm and ran over to Toushirou. He happily accepted her embrace. "I'm going to the Seireitei. I'm becoming a shinigami... It's the only way I'll be happy. Fulfilled."

Ichigo looked hurt. Crying. Toushirou turned away, opening the senkaimon into the other side.

He had no idea what awaited them in the future. He hoped, at least, Karin's suffering eased.

#bleach #hitsukarin #shinigami karin au #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #karin kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki #ururu tsumugiya #kisuke urahara #tessai tsukabishi #jinta hanakari #yuzu kurosaki

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grimmjowkurosakidrake · 5 years ago

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fic prompt: sasusaku meet during a summer camp!

HI! I’m back, and really sorry for the somewhat long hiatus on the Sasusaku prompts. It’s been a long month and I struggled with writing, working, college and the situation in my country. But I think I finally learned how to cope with everything :)!

The first time his parents sent him to Nin’s summer camp, Sasuke didn’t want to go.

He’s only seven, his big brother was free for the summer and just the day before, his classmate Shikamaru told him that parents only send their children to summer camp so they could be free off them while on vacations.

He didn’t talk with anyone on the bus and when Kabuto-nii, the counsellor for his group, leaned down to his level and asked for his name he turned away and ran towards his cabin.

Sasuke didn’t spoke one single word during the first day, because he decided that he hated his roommates more that even his classmates back at home who annoyed him to no end. Suigetsu was too sarcastic, Juugo was just plain weird and Karin wouldn’t leave him alone.

The rest of them were way too old an incredibly mean to him too.

Besides, there’s no way that he was going to talk to Kabuto-nii. The guy was weird. Too affectionate and he called him Sasuke-kun. Just like all the girls called him back in school.

They ended up moving him into another group.

This group was relatively big, twelve boys and girls with one counsellor for ‘teams’ of three.

His own team was conformed by; Naruto, a loudmouth, blond boy who smiled a lot and called him bastard when Sasuke didn’t smile back at him when they introduced themselves for the first time; Sakura, a shy-looking girl with the weirdest shade of pink hair he’s ever seen; Kakashi-nii, his counselor, a silver head who honestly looked too old to be twenty-four as he affirmed and he himself, a rich boy whose parents were way too busy to care off during the summer.

He actually liked this group.

Naruto was an orphan from Kirigakure who wouldn’t stop smiling and who saved him from a fox the third day of one of their hiking expeditions on the forest.

Sasuke froze like a scared cat when he heard the animal growling at him and Naruto just pushed him away and took the bite for him.

“Are you alright?” asked the blond while smirking through the pain and looking directly into his eyes, “scaredy cat.”

That one taunt cemented their friendship. Sasuke promised to never become a victim to save in front of Naruto again and the blond decided to always be there when one of his friends needed him.

Kakashi was a lazy bum who forced them to wake up at six A.M in the morning when he himself wouldn’t be bothered to even get dressed before nine A.M. But he was also the only adult who actually listened to what he wanted to say. He allowed Sasuke to call him Kakashi instead of Kakashi-nii and he only smiled when Sasuke pouted too much or asked for more training time. Be it on martial arts of weaponry.

Sakura was a little different. She was way too shy. Always hiding behind her long bangs, never looking at him in the eye and usually running at Ino’s direction whenever she could. Sasuke liked her, though. He liked how she carried water bottles for everyone when they went out hiking, she also carried a fist-aid kit and she used it to heal little wounds for her teammates.

She kissed every wound once she finished. It was an act of kindness that her aunt Tsunade did for her every time she got hurt back at home.

It was also Sasuke’s first kiss from a girl.

From Sasuke’s six years’ old’s perspective, Sakura was the perfect girl to fall in love with for the first time. She was cute and kind, she blushed a bright red when she kissed Sasuke on his right cheek that first time, right on the corner of his mouth. She was obviously embarrassed but not regretful in any way.

It was innocent enough for Sasuke to fall in love without actually falling in love. Just a silly crush on a cute girl who treated him like a human being for a change and didn’t swoon at the very sight of him.

Four years later, though, he lost interest in her. They were both eleven and Sakura was different in every way. She was louder, bolder, her whole face, big forehead and all, was presented bare to the rest of the world without a single fear. Her hair was longer just like the hair of the other girls who tried to get his attention and she never talked to Ino anymore.

“I really like you, Sasuke-kun!” she confessed to him at the start of the fifth year of summer camp, the year Sasuke admitted to himself that there was no one in his household willing to take care of him when he wasn’t at school.

The next year Sasuke asked his parents to send him overseas for the summer. He was tired and sick of everyone.

He was sick of Sakura’s love, tired of Naruto’s competitiveness, and just plain bored of Kakashi’s friendliness. He didn’t feel any sort of attachment for them anymore, just like he didn’t feel any kind of attachment for his family.

When he left, he did it silently and without notice. He didn’t have Sakura’s or Naruto’s contact information and some friends he made for summer camp weren’t important enough to care about when he eventually never came back, anyway.

At twenty-two he came back to Nin’s summer camp with a completely new role. He was still rich, still neglected by his family but also a lot calmer and in peace with his life.

Kakashi contacted him for the summer of his fourth year of university, offering a job as a counsellor in the camp to pay off his social credits and Sasuke decided to take the offer with gusto, maybe even as a way to reconnect with some of the best memories he’s ever had, even if he wasn’t able to notice it or appreciate it at the time.

He was now a better person, a more well rounded person and Sasuke was aware and incredibly proud of this. After years of self hate, that eventually turned into hate and viciousness against everything that surrounded him as a child and a teenager the youngest of the Uchiha decided to start seeing a therapist.

Indra-san was fairly old man who threated him as an actual human being, listened to everything he had to say about his family, his friends and himself and most importantly, helped him to develop his own coping mechanisms to take manage with his self esteem problems, his anger issues and his anxiety.

When he came back to summer camp as a counsellor, he did as someone who actually wanted to be there.

“I remember when you where an annoying kid just like these little monsters,” Kakashi smirked at him from behind his pristine, white, medical mask. Only the crinkling of his eye giving away his amusement.

“I wasn’t that bad,” Muttered Sasuke, idly watching as a young boy pushed a little girl who was only trying to hug him.

“Sakura said the same thing,” commented Kakashi pointedly watching the same pair of kids, “but we both know she was crazy about you.”

Before Sasuke could even process those words, the melodic voice he liked so much as child, but just a little deeper and a little more cheerful, reached his ears.

“Come on! Kakashi-nii, I wasn’t so bad!” Laughed Sakura. Now a grown woman just like had matured into a man.

Her baby face was completely gone, only a little roundness remaining around her cheeks, she was taller, obviously, but she was smaller than him by at least an entire head, her legs thought, seemed to never end and the small jean shorts she decided to wear under her counsellor’s shirt didn’t help any.

“I told you to just call me Kakashi, Sakura.” Smiled the silver-head despairingly “Kakashi-nii sounds weird now that you’re a little woman.”

“Sakura?” Uttered Sasuke, searching for his childhood friend’s sparkling green eyes. “Is that you Sakura?”

“Sasuke-kun” the pink haired woman, greeted him formally, for just a second before entirely breaking her mature façade, running in his direction with her arms wide open in order to hug him.

A few years before, Sasuke might have pushed her aside just as that little boy did. But now, the Uchiha takes her in his arms just as she falls on him. He even lifts her up for a moment, holding her tight, enjoying the rich Cosmos’ scent she still has even after so many years.

“I missed you so much,” she smiled against his neck.

Sasuke sighed against her hair, his arms tightening around her petite waist. “I missed you too, Sakura.”

#sasusaku fic #sasusaku #sasusaku prompts #Sasusaku au #summer camp au #naruto fanfiction #sakura haruno #Sasuke Uchiha

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ellanainthetardis · 5 years ago

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Hey karine! HC time! Do you ever wonder in what circumstance Chaff lost his arm in the Games? How far in did it happen? How? A tribute? A mutt? I never remember from the books if anything was said but honestly, the books tell us nothing lol. Im just convinced that if it happened in the middle of the games, there is nooooo wayyyyy 11 had enough sponsors or money for an injury like that! Or was it like a cop out it happened during the finale and the Capitol patched him up? Like Haymitch?

Personally, I hc it’s a mutt. You raise a good question... In my head, it happened toward the end but not quite at the ending so I was thinking he did a turniquet and held on... I just asked @aschen-kiln (who is a nurse to be) and she says it’s good if there is no more eeer limb, that the risk of the turniquet is if the limb is still attached, but that he probably didn’t escape infection.

Or maybe, the mutt - which I see as a sort of crocodile version mini-godzilla for some reasons but on four legs not two - ate part of his hand, then he did the turniquet thing, it became gangrenous and they couldn’t repair post victory so they cut it off.

I do love Chaff, I realize I don’t write him at his best, mostly because I just hc such a... rivalry between him and Effie, but I do love him. I think he grows so bitter toward the 70th. I hc he’s already in the rebellion by that point and he can’t get Haymitch involved because of his alcoholism and Effie and it kills him to see Haymitch be, perhaps not happy but happier when he’s around her because Haymitch might deny to everyone and himself but Chaff seeeeees he has her under his skin and he hates it. He hates it because it will end badly, because she’s Capitol and because, in his head, Haymitch deserves better.

Their relationship is such an interesting one... At least in my hc because I realize canonically we just have the fact they’re drinking buddies, but... To me, Chaff represents so much for Haymitch - he’s mentor, brother, father in a way, best friend... But the reverse is true for Chaff. Eleven doesn’t have that many victors so when Chaff took Haymitch under his wing... I guess Haymitch became very important to him too, he became a brother, his kid in the same way Peeta & Kat are to Haymitch... He feels responsible for him and they have a very deep friendship, very exclusive, up until Effie comes and Haymitch starts falling for her (the shift would happen a while after they had started sleeping together) and suddenly Chaff isn’t number one for H, he’s not the one he sides with, he’s not the one he looks at for support or answers... For Chaff, who doesn’t have much else, it’s probably a very bitter period.

And that’s without taking into account the fact that he’s probably feeling lonely too. I hc him to have a sister and three nephews but they don’t live with him even though they probably visit everyday. But I also hc that it’s Chaff who advised H to stay away from any serious romantic relatinship, I hc it’s his vision H emulates with his ‘victors getting married is a trap and stupid move’, and lowkey H’s whole fear of anyone getting attached to him dying might be staiming from something Chaff said in the early days (maybe it’s just a comment about victors needing to be careful or something that H associated with his dead family)... So, in short, Chaff always refused to get serious with anyone even though he probably had affairs in 11, the way Haymitch doesn’t in 12, and he probably had a few serious ones in the lot.

Aaaand, i’m sorry you didn’t ask for that many hcs XD, but my last hc about him is that Chaff isn’t an alcoholic even though he drinks a lot during the Games. He enables Haymitch in that way because - and Haymitch does too even though he migh thave gotten it from him - he has this core value that everyone should allowed to cope with their demons in their own way. At some point, well before Effie’s time, he might tell H he’s drinking too much or to be careful or something but he never insisted and never made an issue of it. Anyway, I hc that Chaff’s way of coping is through sex. In my head and even though it’s never acknowledged and never will be - maybe bc H isn’t even aware of it - the loss of his hand is a matter of insecurity and he needs to seduce women to prove to himself... something.

Maybe that’s also why I hc him becoming so dark and a little twisted around the 70th because he has reached an age when he isn’t that desirable compared to other younger victors and the rejection stings? He doesn’t manage to have as many affairs, he doesn’t have the same success, he starts to turn into a joke because his seduction tactics are... too aggressive, too desperate...

But he’s a good man at the core. He would die for his friends, for the rebellion...

Anyway that was my pep talk on Chaff. Sorry, it got sooooo long. I just have a lot of hcs about him I don’t get to talk about much in one shots.

#hc #chaff #fluffybunny4eva #ask

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-Eight: No Remorse ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

It’s one of the questions he’s asked most often...to the point where he’s become - quite frankly - rather exasperated with it.

“Do you regret it?”

‘It’ being a rather vague term, but one way or another, the word typically refers to any or all events from the time he left Konoha, to when he was dragged back. From the moment he’s back within the village, it seems to be the one thing anyone really cares to know about the time he spent outside it.

The simple answer is...no.

But most people aren’t satisfied with that. If he tells them no, and doesn’t explain...they get that look. One that tells him that he really should regret it. That he should be ashamed of the things he did.

At first, such a response doesn’t really bother him. He honestly couldn’t give less of a shit what anyone in Konoha thinks about him, really. Their blind loyalty to a place that’s - in actuality - committed a number of crimes, not just those regarding his clan, leaves him with a rather unfavorable opinion of most of them. Granted, your typical shinobi - let alone civilian - hardly knows about Konoha’s wrongdoings. But even those who do - his team, primarily - don’t really seem to have much concern about confronting them.

Something he isn’t going to let slide.

But that’s to be handled later. For now, he’s still stuck dealing with the dredge of the villagers’ opinions.

Because in reality...he doesn’t regret a single thing he did. Some things he might have done differently given his knowledge...but he also knows there’s no point in such thoughts. There’s no changing the past. And even if there were...the unknown outcomes of such changes may very well be even harder to cope with than his current circumstances.

He does, admittedly, regret killing Itachi. But he also knows it was his brother’s wish: his attempt to keep the peace, keep Sasuke blinded to the dark truths of their village...and end his own suffering. But the elder brother’s death - and the revelations Sasuke received after, from both Obito and Itachi himself - led him to the truth. To his current path.

And he can’t bring himself to regret that.

He doesn’t regret killing Orochimaru. Or his later decision to revive the snake sannin. Getting his teacher out of the way was necessary...just as much as it was to later revive them. Part of him may very well think that having the serpent alive is a risk...but it also was one that, overall, panned out in their favor. Orochimaru has done despicable things...but so too were they instrumental in overcoming obstacles.

Taka...is a difficult subject. Despite his best efforts to remain neutral toward them, there was no fully killing his need to protect people - to connect with them. As much as Karin annoys him, as much as Suigetsu prods at him, and as closely as he has to watch Jūgo...he couldn’t have done what he did without them. They aren’t exactly...friends. He can’t bring himself to call them that, but friend is a difficult subject for him. They’re an odd...in-between.

He certainly doesn’t regret killing Danzō. While he knows the rest of the council won’t receive the same fate - and maybe they don’t quite deserve it like the head of Root did - their actions were the direct allowance of the massacre. Danzō’s greed for their power and his want to remove them from his path was something Sasuke could never forgive - never let go unaddressed.

He had to die.

So, in truth...while some things have been harder for Sasuke to accept than others...he’s had to, really. He’d go mad overthinking it, doubting it all, asking ‘what if’ whenever it gets too quiet. He made his bed, and he’ll lie in it. There’s no getting his clan back. His brother back. His life back.

This is his reality. Regretting it will bring him no peace...no justice.

All he can do now...is move forward.

“Ah -!”

Dragged into a group outing, Sasuke pauses and glances over as one of their troupe seems to stagger. It’s currently him, Sakura, Naruto, and Hinata. The Hyūga has been hanging around the rather-fragmented team seven as of late. And it’s she who seems to crumple mid-step.

Being the fastest among them, it’s Sasuke who reacts first. With an arm around her waist, he keeps her on her feet, dark brows furrowing. There’s a rather violent ripple in her chakra.

Something’s wrong.

“Sakura,” he barks, bluntly but not unkindly.

Noticing as much herself, the rosette wastes no time in approaching. As Sasuke eases Hinata to sit (a bit difficult to do, given their position in the crowded shopping district), Naruto follows up.

“Hinata-chan! What’s wrong?”

“I...I’m fine,” she insists, tone a bit wispy as Sakura puts a hand to her chest, chakra shifting to a jade shade. “It’s just...m-my chest.”

“Your heart? Or your scar?”

“Heart…”

“When was your last cardiology appointment?” Sakura asks, immediately in medic mode.

Sasuke, serving as a bit of a chair at the moment, lets his brow furrow. Wait...her heart? She’s only seventeen, why would she -?

...oh...now he remembers. Their chūnin exams. Her spar against Neji. The blow to her chest that stopped the organ and required her to be evacuated to the hospital. He remembers hearing about her extensive hospital stay, and the weeks of therapy it took to strengthen her heart.

She’d nearly died that day.

“About, um…” She pauses to think. “...two months ago. Everything’s fine. It just f-flares up sometimes. I’ve been told it’s normal, I just need to rest.”

Sakura doesn’t look fully convinced, but relents. “...we better get you home.”

“But -?”

“We’re not about to keep dragging you around when you feel like this!”

“I don’t want to r-ruin it…”

“...I’ll take her home,” Sasuke then offers. “I’m not contributing much as it is. You two stay and finish up. I’ll make sure she gets there safe.”

For a brief moment, something flickers across Sakura’s face. “...all right. But if anything happens, you take her straight to the hospital! No ifs, ands, or buts!”

Hinata almost seems to pout, but doesn’t argue. “...I’m sorry, Sakura-chan.”

“Oh, please - a little outing is a lot less important than your health. Go get some rest. We’ll see you again soon, okay? Take it easy!”

“...I will…” Letting Sasuke carefully haul her back to her feet, Hinata starts leading the way back to her clan’s grounds.

Sasuke keeps his gaze on her from the corner of his unveiled eye, watching for any signs she’s worsening. She seems a bit out of breath, but otherwise passable enough. “...is this from the chūnin exams?”

With a small, weary sigh...Hinata nods. “...my heart is healed, but every so often I have a bout of arrhythmia. It’s never been anything serious, not since my therapy ended. It’s just something I have to deal with. Everyone always makes it so dramatic…”

“People worry about you. And if Sakura’s worried...there’s surely reason to be.”

“It’s been four years. I r-really don’t think I’m going to relapse. My primary medic says I’m fine, and she’s as diligent as they come. I keep up my appointments...everything else is just unnecessary fuss.”

“...all right, then.” He’s not about to argue. But then the other part of Sakura’s questioning surfaces.

“...Sakura said something about a scar…?”

To his surprise, she actually pauses. “...yes.”

He too slows to a stop. “...what was that from?” He likely has no idea - he was gone for quite some time, and odds are he just wasn’t around when it happened.

“...when Akatsuki attacked Konoha, I interfered with Naruto-kun’s fight against their leader.”

Subtly, his eye widens.

“I knew I wasn’t any match...mostly I just w-wanted to be a distraction. Maybe help free him so he could continue the fight. But I was overpowered before he could get loose, and the enemy impaled me with one of his black rods.”

At her words, a memory surfaces: that of Madara turning Tobirama into a pincushion with rods like that. Right before he -

“It went into my side, and...caused a lot of damage. Due to the rush, it was healed over very quickly, and I had a few c-complications that had to be fixed later with further surgeries. The scarring is a bit tight, so...sometimes I have trouble t-twisting my torso. I do yoga and kata to help with flexibility, but...it twinges sometimes. Sakura-chan likely thought that might have been what had me flinch.”

Sasuke considers her for a long moment. They’re still stopped in the middle of a road, currently empty beyond the two of them. “...you got that trying to help Naruto?”

“...yes. After I was stabbed, he flew into a rage...utilized his bijū and got free.”

“...I didn’t realize he cared about you that much.” It’s a blunt statement, but an honest one. From what he can remember...Naruto always called her strange. While Sasuke (and just about everyone else) could see it was due to her crush on him...the blond was always blind.

Hinata, however, doesn’t flinch. Instead, her head bows slightly. “...that was the day I told him I loved him. I don’t k-know if that had anything to do with it. He never mentioned it after that.”

“...wait.” Disbelief slackens his face. “...you confessed to him, risked your life for him...and he said nothing?”

“T-there was a lot more to consider - Akatsuki, the village, and -”

“But even after all this time...he hasn’t answered you?”

“...not directly.” Her tone quiets. “...but I t-think his reply is rather...o-obvious.”

“...that stupid prick,” Sasuke mutters.

“It w-wasn’t his -”

“You don’t regret it?”

His interruption makes her hesitate.

“...nothing? No remorse? I saw what you did during the war...you tried to do it again. All this effort doesn’t feel...wasted?”

She stares at him, expression unreadable. “...Naruto-kun doesn’t feel how I felt. And I h-hardly want him to force it, or...or lie. That doesn’t mean I regret doing what I did. I wanted to protect him. I w-wanted to prove I was strong enough to stand beside him. I might not love him anymore...maybe I never did. Not truly. But I can’t regret risking my own life for someone I care about. Even if we aren’t right for each other...I still care. I still want him safe, and happy. If the choice came up again...I wouldn’t hesitate. Naruto-kun is precious to me. I might not be what I wanted to be to him...but I’m still his friend. His comrade. So no...I don’t regret my choices.” Unblinking, she doesn’t censor herself. “...I thought y-you of all people would understand.”

For some reason...her words sting in a way he doesn’t expect. But rather than feel a need to lash out, or reply with snark...he recoils, suddenly unsure. He never thought her capable of such a remark.

When it’s clear he isn’t going to rebuke, she sighs. “...I’ve given a lot for other people. But I’d never take any of it back. Just because it’s left me in a deficit doesn’t mean I should regret it. I still feel like I made the right choices...even if others might disagree. They’re mine to make...and mine alone.”

“...fair enough.”

A pause.

“...you don’t have to walk me back, I’ll be fine. You probably want to go home.”

“It’s not that far.” And he isn’t about to walk away from her rather bold statements. “Besides, Sakura will skin me alive if she finds out I left.”

“...all right.”

They don’t exchange any more words on the way, and Hinata turns back as she passes through the compound gate. “...have a good evening, Sasuke-kun.”

“You too. Get some rest. Remember, doctor’s orders.”

To his surprise, she manages a smile. “I will.” With that, she turns and soon disappears.

Mind full of thoughts he had no intention of entertaining, Sasuke eventually sighs...and turns back toward home.

.oOo.

This isn't QUITE what I want it to be, but...it's late and I don't have time to redo or tinker xD Sasuke, in my mind, fully accepts all of his decisions. Maybe a bit less out of actually finding them to be the best he could have done...and more just doing so for his own peace of mind. Sure, he has things he know he could have done better, but...only AFTER seeing how they played out. For his sanity's sake, he can't regret them. Hinata, on the other hand, feels that she DID do the best she could. And while others might criticize her, especially her actions concerning Naruto, she doesn't regret them. Just because their bond didn't pan out how she'd wanted doesn't mean she'd NOT do her best to help him. He still matters. Her feelings still matter. They've just...changed. But that doesn't change the past, or how she views it. So, two different interpretations. And I think that's an interesting comparison between them! ...but it's also 3 am and I'm tired so maybe that's the only reason I'm so rambly xD Either way, that's all I've got for now, and it's WAY past bedtime lol - thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uzumaki naruto #haruno sakura #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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everything-withered · 5 years ago

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All we know: Spoilers

Just a little extra info and random facts for anyone who’s finished All we know, if you don’t want certain parts of the fic spoiled, feel free to ignore until the end of the story.

If you’d like to see the playlist, please see this post.

POV

I wanted to do this solely from Ichigo’s POV to kind of be a mirror of canon? Idk, I’ve never written in someone’s POV for an extended period beyond Liar, Liar and I started All we know first.

Rukia’s eating disorder

As the fic was in Ichigo’s POV, I didn’t delve too deeply into Rukia’s troubling coping mechanism.

Just as how they never say the words depression/anxious/suicidal, they’ve attempted to distance themselves from their own self-destruction while still acknowledging their existence.

Mental illness

I have them. Yay. I wanted a way to write about it in an adjacent sort of fashion which became difficult not only in the reliving but also as I started my own therapy journey.

While mine is a result of the trauma of emotional neglect, Ichigo and Rukia’s was triggered by the loss of their loved ones - how much of it was just result of grief and already existing isolation (in Rukia’s case), is up for debate.

The ending

I wanted to leave it open-ended with no confirmation of whether they’ve become anything more not just because I think their relationship doesn’t need the label - they’re definitely more than friends and less than lovers at this stage - but also because they’re at a point where it would be easy to make something more of their relationship that neither of them would be ready for.

Keeping it open-ended worked for me in the sense that they’re both trying to do better by not taking an easy way out - using someone else and the distraction of a romantic relationship - to block out their issues, and instead of being solidly there for one another without any further expectation.

Would they eventually become a thing? Absolutely. I still ship ichiruki after all.

The original concept

It was going to be a coming-of-age fic where they basically keep running into each other but spend more than a few minutes with one another. It would always be them catching each other at equally pivotal and quiet moments in their lives by pure chance.

Rukia would never have met Karin or Yuzu, though his family would continue to suspect someone new in Ichigo’s life.

They would eventually have one night together - nothing explicit or even romantic - just them kind of being genuine kids, and being together and having fun and being happy.

It would be the calm before the storm. There’d be an accident on their way home and Ichigo would wake up alone at the hospital.

Rukia doesn’t die, but no one tells Ichigo differently because Byakuya pays for the medical bills and doesn’t press charges on the condition that they never contact Rukia again.

Byakuya’s behavior is half his protectiveness of Rukia’s state (which he believes is partially Ichigo’s fault as he was driving without a license though he was not the cause of the accident) and half his own shame that he’d been so negligent of her and hadn’t cared for her as he should’ve.

The Kurosakis agree though any kind of reassures that they give Ichigo that Rukia is okay (even in the abstract sense) do not placate him.

Ichigo grieves a second time.

The final scene involved a timeskip of Ichigo at university and because I’m a btich, it would’ve implied some half-hearted ichime-ending akin to the bitterness of the end of the manga. Ichigo’s back home from Tokyo, visiting his mother at the cemetery. His family suspects he’s only pretending to be alright, and Ichigo admits to his mother that he is and that he’s sorry his life wasn’t worth saving.

As he’s about to leave, he sees Rukia visiting her sister.

THE END.

Other concepts

Rukia was going to be a ghost. Yeah. Tell me which one was sadder.

#ichiruki #all we know #fic spoilers

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illusivesoul · 5 years ago

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OC Interview Meme

Thanks for the tag, @forlornmelody :)

I'll tag @occorner @commander-sass-effect @comefeedtherainn @inoshatrynn and @sabitherunt . Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

The rules: Answer the following questions as your OC of choice.

1. What’s your name?

Katerina Shepard. If all goes well, it might be Katerina T'Soni in the future. We'll see how that goes.

2. Do you know why you are called that?

The people that "took care" of me when I was a child called me Katya (short for Katerina) because of a disgusting, cheap candy which had a redhead girl in the loggo it with the same name.

Shepard was the last name of someone who save my life when I was young.

Let's leave it at that.

3. Are you single or taken?

Taken.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

I'm very, very good with sniper rifles and knives.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

I'm far from being that.

6. What’s your eye color?

Green.

7. How about your hair color?

Red.

8. Have any family members?

I've several people I consider family by now, but otherwise, no. No direct family.

9. Oh? How about any pets?

Have a Varren but he's on Thessia.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

Weakness.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

I like studying history, mainly human history. I like to hike, swim and cook, tough I didn't had much of a chance to do them before.

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

In more ways than you can imagine.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

I think I can safely say I'm the biggest mass murderer the Milky Way has seen. Or do you know anyone else who has a couple consecutive genocides on their record ?

14. What kind of animal are you?

I like wolfs. Maybe that. A "lone wolf".

Cliched, I know. Not sorry.

15. Name your worst habits?

I'm, uh... a bit of a drinker. Coping mechanism.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Several people. Admiral Hackett, David Anderson, Kaidan Alenko, Karin Chakwas...

There are others, but I'd rather not name them.

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

Bi, I guess. Never been one for labels.

18. Do you go to school?

Only schools I went to were the Alliance Basic Training and N School.

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

Never thought about it until a couple of years back.

Now... yeah, I'd like that. A lot.

It's a nice dream, at least.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

The Alliance propped me up as their poster girl after Elysium. It was inevitable.

It was mostly colonists. Most people on Earth didn't knew or care about who I was or what I did, and I liked it that way.

21. What are you most afraid of?

Hurting and losing what little I have left. Again.

22. What do you usually wear?

Tank tops, cargo pants or shorts and jackets. That's about all the clothes I own.

23. What one food tempts you?

Pizza. Brings back good memories.

24. Am I annoying you?

You'd know If I was.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Great.

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

I'd say low for most of my life.

The only times I've gone up was because I was fortunate enough to meet people who took care of me for a while.

Money was good when I was with the Alliance, but all I ever wanted was food and a roof over my head.

27. How many friends do you have?

Like 6 or 7.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

Good, I guess ? I don't eat it much tough.

29. Favourite drink?

Vodka.

30. What’s your favorite place?

There is... there was this beach in the Gran Colombia, back on Earth. I swear it was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen.

Nowadays, well, sorry If I sound corny but wherever Liara is.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

No, not at all. What makes you say that ?

32. That was a stupid question…

I get a lot of those. Its no problem.

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

The Ocean. Nothing compares to the Ocean.

34. What’s your type?

I've never much of a romantic life, believe it or not...

The few people I've been with romantically were very different from each other.

I can't explain why my mess of a brain just connects with certain people. It's a mystery, even to me.

35. Any fetishes?

Go ask Liara. If she doesn't throws you across the, I'll tell you. Deal ?

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

Outdoors! Nature is what we need. Get away from cities for a while.

Its good for the body and soul.

#tag meme #katerina shepard

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facedtogether · 3 years ago

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Feeling the bile rising in his stomach as he listened to what Shepard had told her, Jeff hunched over once more. "It wouldn't have had to come this far if I'd listened to you and Kay in the first place..." Hiding his face in the cap. Squeezing his eyes shut, he could feel the painful effects it had on his back almost instantly. It was the least he deserved in his own mind for what he'd caused. Joker wasn't simply upset, he still blamed himself for their commander getting spaced... among other losses during the attack itself that made him feel helpless.

It was like the neatly build up walls around his emotions that he'd carefully crafted over the past months was crumbling like a house of cards, ever since they'd been back as he finally let out sobs, that were held back since he'd signed up for this mission, into the fabric in his hands. Being stripped of all kinds of distraction was dangerous, always had been. It gave him too much time to think instead of simply reacting. Silence declined him to use humor as a defense and coping mechanism and let the voices inside his head become louder. It all came crashing down at once, as he leaned into Ash once more. Hoping it would take not only the physical but emotional pain of at least the past two years away so he could focus on getting his job done again. Knowing Kaidan, he most likely had told her about how that timespan had been since they had stayed in contact.

Jeff slowly calmed down, yet stayed shoulder to shoulder when she continued. Telling him about how it was her to bring him back to life. Yeah, he (Kaidan) had told him, that Ash had assisted Karin though kept out the details about his own reaction to the sight the pilot had provided him with. It made him chuckle before Jeff winced. "So much for field medic..." He quipped.

Green eyes cast down to his own lap, he glanced over to her hands. Seeing them tremble, he took one into his own. "Sorry I didn't warn you about that small detail beforehand, as I did when telling Shepard. Thank you." He paused, lightly squeezing her hand. "For not giving up on me."

She stayed silent and let him speak, doing her best to be supportive and not with the slightest hint of judgement. There had been parts of that day that were hard for her, too... parts she knew Kaidan hadn't told him about, because she'd asked him not to. He didn't need to know that part. Not at the time. Now... maybe. As he seemed to be searching for something around the room, Ashley's gaze turned to the door, where she could see a certain redhead approaching hesitantly. One sharp glare from the brunette was enough for Chambers to raise her hands defensively, reading the very clear 'not now, fuck off' in Ashley's sharp gaze. Even she knew better than to cross a woman who packed firepower like Ashley did.

"He told me... what it felt like, when he died. He was--it sounded agonizing. Terrifying. But it's okay to be upset about that. Jeff, you're not... you're not trained to stomach that kind of thing like we are. That's never been your job. That's not the kind of grit your job takes. It takes a different kind of grit to do what I do--looking down the barrel of a rifle, your crosshairs centered on someone's head--than it does to fly a ship. It's a different kind of focus, a different kind of level-headedness."

Ashley was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “I remember what happened. Better than Kaidan, anyway.” She’d been in the pod with Chakwas when the rescue party arrived; she was fortunate to be in full enviro-gear. “I was in my hardsuit already when we got in the pods. I… I found your pod.” She chuckled weakly. “I kept your wiseass alive.” She wasn’t sure if Kaidan has mentioned that; he’d probably struggled to see the agonized look on her face as she listened to every bone in their pilot’s chest cracking.

She looked down at her own hands, palms up in her lap as she spoke. “A normal person’s ribs and sternum will crack or break under chest compressions. I know that. Chakwas had to stop me from panicking, telling me to just keep going. Kaidan had to walk away. He couldn’t stomach the sound.” Her own hands were trembling, but she kept her voice level and her expression neutral. "At some points, I couldn't tell if I was keeping you alive or making things worse. The only thing I knew was that if I stopped, that was it. If I stopped, that was me accepting you were gone. And I couldn't do that."

#virmireisms

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zee-isaiah-pugnacious7-blog · 7 years ago

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In Defense of Junpei Iori

I want to start off by saying this is my own thoughts on the character. Whether you like/hate this character is your own personal opinion; respect my opinion, and I will respect yours. Thank you.

So, Junpei. The token comedy-relief/best-buddy of Persona 3. Friendly, funny, charming and sharing the same voice-actor as Edward Elric (plus several others), he is one of the more memorable characters of the series...

And yet... a lot of people seem to hate him. More often than not, some people comment that he’s one of the most annoying characters in the game!

Ironically, my boyfriend--- who first introduced me to the Persona series--- was the one who brought up Junpei being a lousy character (He later took it back after noticing how similar the character is--- not even joking, they have similar issues at their homes). But it wasn’t because he thought Junpei was annoying--- it was mainly because... well, Junpei sucked on his team.

My Boyfriend: Good luck having Junpei on your team. He wouldn’t follow my commands, kept dying, blah blah blah...

Me: *after playing the game* Dude, Junpei is a tank on my team! I’m not even giving him commands, and he’s helping heal the group, he can take a blow, yadda yadda...

(Maybe they can just tell when a girl is playing the game XD)

I get the feeling that’s one reason why people don’t like Junpei--- they have trouble with him on the team. ...Then again, if that were the case, wouldn’t everyone have at least one [other] character they hated having on their team? I guess, depending on the equipment, commands and experience, the characters you choose vary in performance.

...But c’mon guys, how many of us got angry at Mitsuru and her overuse of ‘Marin-Karin/Tentarafoo’? THE COMICS ARE EVERYWHERE!

Me: Okay, Mitsuru--- the Shadow is weak to Ice. Watch me use Bufu. *casts it, destroys enemy* See? Easy. Use Bufu skills. BUFU skills.

Mitsuru: MARIN KARIN!

Me: F*CKING DAMMIT, MITSURU, YOU’RE OFF THE TEAM!

*ahem* So, yeah, no one’s perfect ^^’

But combat-performance isn’t the only reason I see people hating on Junpei. Like I said earlier, they find him annoying--- maybe they think he’s too much of a pervert (ironic in a game where you play as a guy/girl who can f*ck several people), or maybe they think he’s an idiot (Who’s playing this game, Yukari?), but more often than not, there’s a couple things that always come up...

Junpei’s want for attention, and how he gets jealous of the Protagonist.

Lets start with the fight for attention. During the first mission, Junpei is quick to rush ahead, trying to prove his potential. (And this may be a little late but I’ve never seen all the movie adaptations yet *only the 2nd one* so I’m just going by the game storyline). Clearly he wants to be in the spotlight, and *at first* sees fighting Shadows as some sort of game, up until he realizes just how serious it really is.

But think about it--- before awakening to his Persona, Junpei was a regular teenager. The creators themselves mentioned that Junpei was a crucial character because he acted like a real teenager--- cracking jokes, getting excited about having this power... I mean, how would you react if you were a high school student and found out you had a rare power? You’d be pumped, wouldn’t you?

Meanwhile there’s Akihiko, Shinjiro, Yukari, and Mitsuru who awoke to their Personas early on (for crying out loud Mitsuru awoke to hers when she was just a little girl! She was a chibi with power!). They managed to understand the concept of their potential--- and, since they had serious stuff going on in their lives, took this responsibility to heart. (It really hits you in the feels with Shinji’s case)

Now look at Junpei’s life--- living with an alcoholic father, having little skills and low grades... chances are, he was putting on a mask *no P5 refs intended*; behind that comedic behavior and charming smile was a teen struggling with depression, feeling like he was going nowhere in life. (You all saw his moment with Koromaru in “The Answer”). He awoke to his Persona--- not because he had some ‘mission’ to fulfill, but because he wanted to find a purpose in life.

AndthenhemeetsChidoriandfallsinlovebringinguphisdreamsofbeingabaseballplayerthenshediesinordertosavehislifeandyougethitwiththefeelsandhefindsanewreasontolivegaaaaaaaahhhhh---

Sorry! Got off-track for a moment there!

Point is, the moment he gets his Persona, he feels a rush of excitement, like his life has purpose after all! (This is emphasized after Strega encounters the group, bringing up that once the Dark Hour is destroyed everyone will lose their powers). So of course he’d want to ‘show ‘em what he’s got’ and try to impress everyone, because he’s trying to prove his self-worth.

Now lets bring up the part where he gets jealous of the Protagonist.

I can hear you all, “Of course he’s jealous--- the protag is a badass who gets all the girls and is acing the exams, etc.* SHUT UP. JUST. SHUT. UP.

First of all, think about the FIRST time you play the game--- where your stats are at an ALL TIME LOW. Your intelligence is ranked at dumbass, you’ve got as much charm as a piece of cardboard, and you have less courage than Scooby Doo!

So you’ve got a guy with zero intelligence, minimal charm, and zip courage... and yet all of a sudden he’s elected Team Leader just because he--- big shock--- awoke to his Persona and *gasp* fought Shadows! Just. Like. Everyone. Else.

Granted, there were reasons he got the Leader rank--- Mitsuru had to stay behind at the start in order to scan for Shadow activity, Akihiko’s arm was broken, Yukari was having confidence issues, and Junpei was the new guy---

Wait a minute! The Protag was the new guy too! Why was he elected leader? Why couldn’t he and Junpei have had a rock-paper-scissors tournament to decide? What, was it because Junpei wasn’t ‘serious’ enough? I’m pretty sure putting him in a responsible position would get him serious! (...or he’d abuse his power, much like many did when playing the game *cough*BikiniWarriors*cough*)

“But the Protag can use more than one Persona!” you may argue, but I’m talking about the very start of the game--- before you start your Social Links and start acquiring more than 1 Persona (and leaving poor Orpheus behind to rot lol). Like, out of the blue, Mitsuru just says “You can be Leader until Akihiko gets better,” ...then after Akihiko heals up, it’s like “You can keep being leader, you’re doing a great job.”

Okay, maybe I’m overthinking it. If Protag didn’t get the role of leader, we’d have no gameplay. Lets stick with Junpei.

Granted as the game goes on, your stats do improve by the time you get to the Hotel. And thus when Junpei gets jealous--- everyone fights these two massive Shadows... and the Protag is getting most of the praise. Despite any reassurance you give him, he still gets pissed and ignores you for the week.

(Me: Nuuuuuuu! Junpei, come baaaaack! I’ll buy you ramen!)

And of course this is where a lot of people consider Junpei to be annoying, for throwing a b*tch-fit about the Protagonist being hot-sh*t.

But, lets re-analyze what I mentioned before--- fighting Shadows is all Junpei considers himself good for. Heck during this time, he realizes he’s going to be a senior by the next year... and then what? What is he going to do with his life after high school?

Also, lets bring up the fact that he’s fighting Shadows with a well-respected valedictorian (Mitsuru), the captain of the boxing-team who has fan-girls surrounding him at the start (Akihiko), the most popular girl in school (Yukari), a girl with a rare Persona who helped her survive in Tartarus for 10 days/hours (Fuuka), and an emo-hunk every woman wants to sleep with (Protagonist).

DO YOU SEE WHAT HE HAS TO COMPETE WITH?! Throw in a robot, dog, kid and the baddest of the badasses, and you’ve got a lot of pressure on your shoulders! *granted they don’t come in until after the beach trip, but still!*

Keep in mind, these are all high-school students. If there’s one thing I remember about being in high-school, it’s that I wanted people to like me and achieve at something. There was always someone much smarter, more athletic, more creative, and more charismatic than I ever could be. (...I can hear you all making fun of me for being a geek right now. Go on, laugh it up!)

Junpei got jealous because the New Kid became a kick-ass leader (...depending on how well you play the game...) and he’s working his a$$ off to make something of himself in order to cope with a bad home life, lack of academic potential, and whether or not he’ll have a future after graduation.

He wasn’t just jealous, he was suffering from anxiety. If he was the least-anything on the team, he lost his motivation. It’s no different than feeling depressed because someone believed you ‘weren’t good enough’ at something.

I believe many of us have gone through that. It really hurts, and sometimes lashing out at someone who’s ‘better’ than you is the first response; other times you just shut yourself out from others, wallowing in your self-pity, trying to figure out if you’re worth anything...

But there’s something Junpei does that not many people do.

He realizes his mistakes and apologizes.

He realizes he rushed in too fast during the first mission, and asks for a second chance when the group goes to rescue Fuuka.

He realizes he was faulting the Protagonist for no reason *kinda like I did a minute ago* and apologizes to him for it.

Junpei: Sorry for being such a d*ck to you...

Me: *choosing option* Don’t Worry About It.

Junpei: *softly* Thanks bud.

Me: *while fainting* Friendship saved~!

(okay okay, that’s the last of the fan-girling, promise!)

As the game goes on, his character development gets better. He doesn’t even try to act like a class-clown that much after meeting Chidori (as Fuuka said, he acts more like a gentleman). ...It’s only during the trip to Kyoto that he reverts back to his perverted nature :P

(Saying it now, DAMN THOSE HOT-SPRINGS!!!)

Moving on.

It isn’t until near the end of the game that we really see him change--- and we all know the reason: Chidori.

You’ve all seen what happened, so I’m not going into detail here!

Point is, her sacrifice was what really helped him wake up--- he developed a new reason to not just get through life, but LIVE it. The love of his life didn’t want him to just give up--- she wanted to see him achieve his dreams and be happy.

After that, Junpei once again apologizes to the Protagonist, letting go of his jealousy and relying on his friend to help get them through this battle against the Dark Hour.

Because there’s a double meaning to the ‘Dark Hour’--- it’s not just some creative title for Tartarus appearing, but an analogy on how everyone is going through their darkest moments. Losing Chidori is Junpei’s Dark Hour--- and he needs his best friend to help him get through it until it’s over.

Then comes Ryoji, bearing the bad news that Nyx is coming...

This is where I really noticed a change in Junpei’s character. He’s scared, but reacts with anger rather than humor--- everyone’s losing someone already, then all of a sudden everyone’s going to die.

Yukari, ironically, tries to crack a joke in order to try and lighten up the tension... and Junpei blows up at her! The vice-versa of the beginning of the game!

This is proof that Junpei had been hiding his real emotions the whole time--- once things got serious to the point where its all ‘Oh f*ck we’re all gonna die’, he dropped his class clown charade.

“He should’ve been serious from the start!” you may argue...

But, lets face it, we had ENOUGH serious characters--- no-nonsense Mitsuru, training-focused Akihiko, hardass Shinjiro, truth-seeking Yukari, vengeance-seeking Ken, humanity-learning Aigis... geez I think Koromaru and Fuuka were the only ones not dead-serious about something!

As mentioned, Junpei was using humor in order to cope with things; he let out his anger at Shinjiro’s funeral, but once the grieving period passed went on with his humorous behavior, keeping enthusiastic because it was his only defense. Losing Chidori was probably his breaking point--- finding out the world was going to end in two months drove him over the edge, and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

But, he chose to fight, alongside the others, even if there was a slim chance of success. He didn’t want to give up. He wanted to try--- and succeed.

So I ask again... why do people hate on Junpei? Maybe you all have your own reasons outside of the ones I’ve listed--- whatever they are, it’s your opinion, I can’t tell you how to feel. This is just my thought on him.

Because, if you think about it, in some way we’re similar to the character. We often hide our real feelings until we just can’t take anymore. We get jealous of others, we get depressed when we can’t find a purpose in life.

But many of us still want to try.

And I believe we shall succeed.

Just don’t give up.

#persona 3 #junpei iori #personal thoughts #no flames please #sorry if i rambled too much

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