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ryutaria · 1 year ago

Text

When it Rains...

Synopsis: There was scarcely anything that scared Al Haitham... and losing (Y/N) might be one of them...

Word Count: 3.5k+

Tags: alhaitham x f! reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, Student Al Haitham! x Student Raeder, sfw, burn out, verbal bullying, false accusations, stressful academic life, Akademiya setting,

A/N: This is my first post so please don't go hard on me..

The warm rays of the setting sun were splayed across the evening sky, casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings, a soft fading luminance evident in the environment. The winds remained soft as they passed through the Avidya forest and encircling the once still Divine Tree, tickling through their leaves in the process as they made their way through the open windows of the Akademiya. A certain calmness prevalent in the environment ... but not resonating with the state her mind chose to remain in...

Her footsteps echoed through the halls of the Akademiya, rushing past the cluster of few students who chose to remain late as she made her way to the House of Daena, struggling as she stumbled with the number of scrolls, files and a couple of hardbound books clutched against her chest, cradling in her fragile arms. Her eyes could see Iris in conversation with her sister and the moment she chose to pass by them - "Y/N!".... People didn't like to leave her alone, do they...

"What do you need Iris?" Her voice snapped: on the verge of breakdown as she struggled to remain civil for she didn't want to project her anger onto someone who wasn't even responsible for it. "Oh... It seems you're busy..."- disappointment laced her tone- "But it's alright! We can always talk tomorrow right" and there was her kind smile. And for the first time in her life (Y/N) felt grateful to all the Archons that she had befriended Iris. Her lips tried to imitate hers as she returned the expression albeit forcibly before scurrying past her. Tomorrow... As if she would even be able to see tomorrow...

(E/C) eyes watered a little as the doors of the greatest library in all of Teyvat came into her view, her breathing turning heavy - rushed even - as her steps picked up their pace. She slowly entered through the giant wooden doors, the quietness in the library which once seemed inviting now sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes scanned through the aisles before landing on her Professor, seated in one of the reserved tables for the teachers and other professionals. She sighed as she readjusted her books only for them to go tumbling down her arms as they broke the silence with a loud thud, attracting the attention of all the patrons inside and a few sneers and cold looks. Quickly squatting down, (Y/N) hurriedly picked her academic materials up, her files crumpling a little in the process - her completed assignments over which she had lost three days' worth of sleep. A stray tear droplet managed to fall upon the floor but she held her ground lest the dam of her bottled up tears broke through her tough façade.

The frustration was evident in her grip as she brushed off her robes before walking towards the Professor.

"Good evening Sir" she greeted politely standing at a respectable distance from him. He chose to ignore her presence at first, his attention remaining on the scroll he held in his hand while slowly sipping his tea. "Sir..." and his head turned to meet her eyes and a smile laced his features and she could tell it was all a pretense just like the other lecturers and higher ups. "I'm here to submit my thesis." and her file replaced the scroll in his hand.

His eyes scanned through her papers with the same scrutinizing gaze, eyebrows raising every few moments indicating he had found an error amongst her work. And then after with a deceitful smile he placed down the file on the table.

"Tsk tsk... Miss (L/N)" the Professor spoke, his torso twisting a little in his chair as he craned his neck to look at her directly in the eyes. "The ruins of Devantaka have already been studied thoroughly by the scholars here." and he dropped her carefully arranged papers to the floor, "And to think that Ley Lines hold a connection to the ruins.... that seems far-fetched."

"But Sir! The energy binding the ruins-"

"Enough of your hazy thoughts (L/N). I've more pressing matters to deal with~" and he got up from his chair with the forgotten scroll in his hands. "Get the thesis rewritten in a week." - the words she had been hearing for over a month. "And I don't want any blasphemous theories again or I might have to fail you... or might as well kick you out of my lecture" And his footsteps faded as he walked away.

(Y/N) could hear the snickers and sneers coming from the surrounding students who happened to be the audience of the interaction. Tears began to well up in her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. With shivering hands, she picked up her papers, her vision becoming blurry as she got to her feet. Yet she held her calm then, walking out of the library before anyone could spot her wiping her eyes on her sleeves. And yet a certain someone in a secluded corner of the library did notice the turmoil she had carefully concealed behind those (E/C) eyes.

Her thoughts were scattered all over the place, depressing thoughts and turmoiled emotions causing a havoc in her mind as she walked out of the Akademiya and onto the city streets.

The night felt inky and cold, dark clouds overcast over the skies and soon thick droplets of water descended from the skies. The residents hurried past her as they avoided the showers of rain but she welcomed them with teary eyes... for she needed something to drown her sorrows in. (Y/N) smiled at her own misery, even the Archons pitied her today. The weight of the world too heavy upon her shoulders as she inhaled sharply.

"Her thesis got rejected for the sixth time, did you know?"

"And to think that Iris told us she was the brightest in Vahumana. Ha! Now her true colors are showing!"

"I bet she'll be expelled this time for sure."

And (Y/N) quickly wiped her tears as she rushed through the rainy streets - her attempts to shield her files and books failing as she found a secluded corner in the streets, an overhanging tree giving her a little shade as she slowly sank down on her knees. She really deserved it all, didn't she? The warnings of her mother must be true...

"Why the Akademiya? You can simply help out your brother with business." And she had held her head high when she said she thrived off knowledge and wished to cultivate more of it. Her father had been her only support but when he too passed away due to Eleazor, the ridicules of her mother and brother became overbearing. In a haste to prove herself she had left home to rent a small apartment close by to the Akademiya. The loneliness was overbearing but she held on, hoping the future would be bright and yet here she was... Her dreams getting crushed under the heavy expectations and ridicules of the world around her and she wondered how long it would be this way...

His breathing became ragged as he rushed out of the Akademiya, his usual calm demeanor fading the moment he saw her leave the House of Daena. "Al Haitham!" and those words fell on deaf ears as Kaveh stared questioningly at him hurrying past the hallways. 'Strange' thought the blonde for he had never seen Al Haitham in such a rush. "It's her isn't it?" Tighnari added as Cyno hummed in approval - the trio staring at the ash-haired male fade away from their vision.

"I'm so annoyed you know. Why can't he just tell her?!" Kaveh said out loud, eyes narrowing as his fingers intertwined behind his head as he walked, Cyno and Tighnari following his pace. "It won't be Al Haitham if he just told her"And they couldn't agree more with Cyno.

And then after what felt like hours of searching - rain be damned - he found her huddled in a corner of the deserted street. He could see the way her eyes seemed lifeless. Her back resting against the overhanging tree's trunk as the books held loosely in her hands got drenched in the rain. (H/C) tresses stuck to her back as she stared lifelessly at the skies. His heart crumpled at the sight of her looking so... broken and empty...

Cautiously Al Haitham approached her, his steps resonating with those of a cat as he stood in front of her and yet she seemed so devoid of emotions, not even flinching as her eyes locked onto his. "Here to mock me again?" and his confidence faded as he kneeled to her level, "Archons no!" He tsked before carefully taking her hands in his larger ones. warmth spreading through her nimble fingers albeit the rain never stopped.

Al Haitham was a prodigy, hailed by the lectures and students alike, the 'Gem of Haravatat'. (Y/N) had first stumbled upon him at the library, turquoise eyes reading through the pages as he sat unbothered at a secluded table in the corner. "D'you mind if I join?" she had asked him and he had grunted in response without even sparing a glance at whoever had interrupted his peaceful afternoon. After an hour and a half when the intruder still remained seated, his patience started running thin. The ruffling of sheets and the scribbles of her quill becoming somewhat hard to ignore as his eyes finally lifted to take in her appearance and Archons, mesmerizing was an understatement.

There wasn't something necessarily captivating about her appearance but he felt drawn to her. A moth to a flame but only this moth... refused to be cauterized. He started noticing her everywhere... The Puspa Cafe where she regularly indulged in Padisarah pudding as she laughed with Iris and her younger sister, the secluded corridors of the Akademiya where she sneaked to sleep whenever she could find time. And he also knew for a fact that she didn't drink for she despised the smell of liquor.

"I can't Iris..." (Y/N) pleaded with her friend Iris at the tavern. "But it'll be so much fun!" added Janaki, another one of her classmates "And besides, Kunikuzushi is here too... I heard he's quite interested in you" and Al Haitham didn't know why his blood boiled at the mention of another man's name. "But you know I hate the smell of alcohol! Its... nauseating, please!"

"Leave her alone would you?" his voice had boomed startling his group of friends which included Kaveh, Tighnari and Cyno. And with a thankful look she had scurried away and out of the tavern, Al Haitham following after her. And that was when he had really talked with (Y/N).

Their meetings weren't necessarily frequent - the Akademiya kept them busy but subtle glances cast each other's way and knowing looks in the House of Daena were enough for the two. An year passed and they became close friends before everything fell apart.

"Did you hear? (Y/N) was suspended for plagiarism." And Al Haitham's ears perked up at the mention of her name.

"Really?"

"Yes! And to think that she would do that to Farahnaz! How evil! " And those words were the last he heard before he walked out of the library to confront (Y/N) only to find her in conversation with the sage of Vahumana himself. Tears pricked at her eyes as she pleaded with him to hear her cause before she was taken away by one of the matras as her screams echoed off the walls. He heard the Sage in conversation with the Mahamatra and his ears couldn't beleive what they heard. Farahnaz had carefully translated the ruin engravings and their energy sources found in the Devantaka. She had trusted (Y/N) to keep her findings safe for she had been suddenly taken ill only to find out that (Y/N) had tried to publish her work under her own name.

He felt betrayed and... yet he couldn't bring himself to walk away and followed after her only to find her sobbing profusely in an empty classroom.

"(Y/N)?" he had questioned cautiously, "You okay?" and she didn't reply. Therefore, he decided to enter inside only to meet a hysterically crying (Y/N) burying her face in his chest. He stayed unmoved, not being able to hold her in his arms as his voice echoed -

"Why did you do that?" the words had slipped out on their own as he met her wide-eyed teary gaze as she slowly lifted her head up to meet his eyes.

"A-Al Haitham, N-No... I...you didn't-" and that was all he ever heard before she pushed him away, backing away from him and out of his reach as she mouthed the last words she ever spoke to him then after as she left him alone in the empty classroom...

"You're all the same..."

Weeks later after fighting through it all on her own, it was discovered that (Y/N) was not the one at fault. Farahnaz had faked her illness before she had bribed a matra to publish those findings under (Y/N)'s name. And turns out that her findings weren't really authentic for after further investigation it was discovered that Farahnaz had indeed carried out Mosaic plagiarism of (Y/N)'s source materials and the scrolls she had kept under investigation. Her last words before expulsion being how she had really hated (Y/N) for outsmarting her and wished to any Archon who would hear her to bestow all the hardships in her life.

"I hope you rot" Farahnaz had spat as she was dragged away on the orders of the General Mahamatra along with the matra who had helped her out.

"I knew she was innocent" Cyno had reminded him yet again that day and he couldn't help but feel regret. How could he not for he had always valued logic and rationality above it all and yet he was... blindsided by mere rumors without diving in deep to uncover the truth. Even the minds of wisest men can get plagued by false rumors at times. After all no one can truly escape the frivolous human nature. Kaveh had cast him a disgusted look, still did as he asked him if he would ever apologize.

Now Al Haitham had tried to make amends with you, a failed attempt to mend the broken thread of friendship he had once held so close to his heart.

"Don't bother 'Haitham... I can't trust you yet again..." and there was no spite in your words, just emptiness and sorrow lacing them and it shattered his peace of mind to see you like this. "I can't face you anymore... not when you're the person I trusted the most..." and she had turned her back to him before mouthing ever so softly "Not when you're the person I loved the most..." and she walked away and out of the House of Daena... not sparing him the look over her shoulders she always did, the last of her words whispered for only his ears to hear "Not when... you're the person who hurt me the most" and his eyes widened with his bleeding heart. She walked out of his sight, disappearing in the crowd of knowledge that was the Akademiya... and he felt (Y/N) might just have crushed him under those delicate steps.

Rationality and logic had provided him the answers to all the questions all this while... And yet his mind refused to accept the fact that he had been the one who had blinded by mere talks of the streets. But then again, the most rational of men at times have been a prey to humane frivolity and reckless thoughts.

And from then onwards Al Haitham swore to protect (Y/N) from all the evils of the world... even if it meant he had to work in the shadows... even when it meant staying away from her for he didn't want to break her heart anymore. However, seeing her in this frenzied state of weighing depression and anxiety broke his heart as if … he had failed to protect her from the demons yet again...

After the upliftment of (Y/N)'s suspension and the restoration of her title as an honorary student of the Akademiya, the rumors had still refused to subside. For three long months are enough for the development and brewing of all sorts of research and modifications to the original case.

"Look it's (Y/N). She does look smug for someone who was in suspension" a random Kshahrewar junior sneered as his peers laughed along with him.

Her footsteps increased their pace as she clutched her books further to her chest, walking to her morning class in a frenzied state. Little did she know, she would be greeted by her peers much harshly.

"Oh look who it is! (Y/N)(L/N)! Here to steal someone else's report?" Nima taunted, another friend of Farahnaz who refused to believe she was innocent.

"Oh please Nima, will you shut up?" said Iris as she glared at the brunette with a malicious look in her eyes. But the girl didn't seem to listen."Get lost before I cut off that tongue. That'll shut you up, yeah?" and the class felt silent when Kunikuzushi spoke up, his voice sending chills down Nima's spine, albeit the whispering never stopped.

"Be careful Kuni. You might be her next victim!"

"You sick little-" but (Y/N) was quick to grab Iris's arm before the venom spewed out. 'It's not worth it' she had said as she guided them to an empty table.

(Y/N) and Iris sat side by side awaiting their professor and she found solace in her only friend. Iris had helped her out with most of the reports and case studies in order to gather evidences against Farahnaz and she had been surprised when Kuni had volunteered to do so too. She was grateful to both of them in so many ways but the weight of the world around her seemed too heavy and Al Haitham seemed too far away... having had left a scar on her chest where her heart belonged, broken yet beating...

She would often sneak glances of him in the House of Daena or in the streets of Sumeru, quick to look away before his turquoise could meet her (E/C). Too broken to reach out... too hurt to let go... But the little things she missed out were filled in by his presence. He still wondered how she failed to notice that he was always around her... looking out for her but never directly and he wondered if she chose to ignore her presence. Nonetheless he was thankful for she would have been more hurt if he still reached out... or so was what the ever rational Al Haitham thought.

He had been observing her conversations with the Professor for a fair few days now. How he had always disregarded her opinions made his blood boil yet he was helpless right then for he couldn't really directly step in when the higher officials and scholars were involved.

"It all seems very vague you know... Not even close to the point" he had laughed as he thrusted the folder in her arms.

"But Sir, here me out! The recent develop-"

"Redone and submitted on my desk. Coming Monday" and again she was left frustrated and with tears.

She longed for someone to help her out and her heart would always call out for a certain ashen-haired male yet her mind would remind her how effortlessly he had broken her. She couldn't ask Iris for she was too busy with her own thesis and Kuni had gone to explore the Avidya Forests for a few days. She felt alone and lifeless and all she wanted was to break down until she heard someone say -

"It'll be okay (Y/N)..." his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her close to him. And she wailed in his arms, too weak and hurt to push him away as she gave into the instincts of her heart.

"I'll make it all better, I promise" he kept whispered soothing words in her ears as his arms wrapped around hers as if attempting to shield her from all the pain, worries, turmoil and miseries the world had been putting her through. And he regretted that he had been the one who had added to them the most.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered when he felt her breathing calming down, the shiver in her shoulders slowing as she attempted to speak...

"D-Don't leave m-me...p-please" choked words whispered through trembling lips and he embraced her even tighter. Whispers of 'I'm sorry' and 'Never leave you again' echoing in the showers of droplets as they remained in each other's embrace for quite a while...

"Let's get you home (Y/N)" he said but his words fell upon deaf ears. On further coaxing he realized that she had fallen asleep in his embrace, unbothered by the rain as exhaustion took over her body. His heart hurt as he noticed the dark circles and chapped lips. Therefore, he took it upon himself to keep her safe and comforted.

His warm coat was shed off his shoulder, coming around her small frame to wrap her up in his warmth. "Hai...tham... don't go" she whispered in her sleep and his heart skipped a beat yet again.

"Never again (Y/N)" he promised, an oath he was committed to never break until his last breath and he slowly placed a fleeting kiss upon her forehead.

Lifting her up in his arms he made his way to his own home, his coat having had been wrapped around her sleeping form in an attempt to provide warmth as he walked down the city streets, ignoring the whispers when he neared his home for Al Haitham despised idle chatters with a sheer passion after a certain incident almost wrecked his once peaceful world.

However, with (Y/N) in his arms and his embrace he felt he could be at peace again.

Taglist: @teapartyspilled

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham angst #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham comfort #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #al haitham #yae publishing house #ryutarites

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respectthepetty · 3 months ago

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Petty, I respect you.

I do.

However.

DONT BE QUITE ABOUT THE COLOURS IN ON1Y 1 BECAUSE I WILL READ A FULL THESIS ON IT, 20 PAGES!!!! 50 PAGES!!!!

PLEASEEEE Give

Meeeeeeeee 🥹

Anon,

You've opened a floodgate.

Because I always notice the colors, but just because I see colors doesn't mean I know why they are significant. Even if I see there is a pattern, it doesn't mean I understand its importance. And I don't think y'all should be subject to me screaming about Jiang Tian's paper bookmarks being yellow and pink in a book of (love?) poems where he has highlighted that "a girl's shyness is like a tender cherry under the sunlight" and "16- and 17-year-olds are like fruits in the morning sun, sparkling."

Sheng Wang asks who this is about, but we know who this is about. The colors mean things.

And more importantly, I actually didn't write weekly or episodic posts about shows until 2022. I used to wait until a show was over to write about the colors or background noise, and, mostly, I only did it when people would ask me about it. Big Dragon was the first show that I felt compelled to write weekly about the colors and background noise because it was so amazing, so 2024 is still an odd space for me to be in sometimes because as much as I love colors, I'm ALWAYS surprised how much y'all want to know about them . . . weekly . . . per episode . . . for all the shows.

I write for myself, but sometimes I think y'all don't need to witness me losing my shit every week for sixteen weeks over obviously color-coded characters in The Loyal Pin.

And sometimes I think y'all don't want to witness me losing my shit over colors that I can't completely understand like the grays in 4 Minutes.

And then other times I think y'all shouldn't have to witness me losing my shit over colors that I'm not sure are colors until I've watched enough episodes to feel sure that the colors are, in fact, coloring; then, the series, The Trainee, actually tells me the colors were coloring the entire time like I thought.

And that's why I try to be quiet about shows because I'm figuring them out in my head, or I'm waiting for enough information to feel confident about them, and I don't want to hog up the tag with my ramblings. I need to sit in it a bit to figure out what the colors mean.

Kiseki: Dear to Me was the perfect example. I didn't mention anything about colors until prompted by others because it took me until the third episode to feel certain that Chen Yi and Ai Di matched colors, then it took me close to the end of the series to realize all the cameo couples ALSO matched colors.

It took me until the end of My Love Mix-Up to realize Aoki's color had evolved.

It took me two seasons (and a movie) to feel secure that Kiyoi was a Heavenly Human in My Beautiful Man.

And it took me until midway through Semantic Error to figure out why the red disappeared.

That's how The On1y One is for me. I knew yellow/orange and blue would play some part in the story based on the posters, but I wasn't sure how until I started seeing more visuals appear.

Because even though I saw a yellow container of food for Sheng Wang in the first episode,

I didn't realize he mostly ate color-coded food until episode four.

It's such a tiny detail, so I could have easily missed it, but because I know that he is a picky eater, I feel like it's not simply a coincidence, and I quickly noticed it in the eighth episode.

But I needed to collect more images before I could state that. I needed to let the story develop before I realized it. I needed to settle into it. And that's why I wrote my halfway point post after a few people asked if I noticed.

Because I know I seem like a magician who shouts a lot, but I'm not. Sometimes, I have to be patient and let the colors sneak up on me while I'm simply enjoying the moment, like Sheng Wang's orange alarm clock nestled into the corner of his bed while he falls asleep on his light yellow pillow in his light yellow shirt.

I know not all visuals can be a literal bright yellow sign hanging from the color-coded boy's room, ya know?

I'm not Jenny who cannot grasp that she keeps taking food and drinks meant for Benny even when he realized if she could figure out the mug was about gay rights without realizing he was gay then someone smarter will along and piece the dots together . . .

Because like, girl, he's gay.

But it does take me time to collect images and get my thoughts in order, so until then, I'm going to be quiet.

Or as quiet as a loud ass like me can be.

#the on1y one #I won't move past that mug #like girl . . .#piece the dots together #the colors mean things #color coded boys in love #I'm trying to be quiet #I need to collect more images #I need to organize my thoughts #I need to live in the mess for a bit

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all-pacas · 1 month ago

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ok so. i know kutner isn't one of the characters giving you brainworms the same way the og fellows do but you have good takes on the show in general and so i must get your take on this:

sometimes in discussions about how kutner's death affected the show, people will say something along the lines of "if kutner hadn't died, he would've been the next head of diagnostics rather than chase" because of his similar ways of thinking/tendencies for risk taking. do you think that'd be possible and if so how do you think it'd play out?

I've actually thought about this, because I've also seen those takes. And I don't want to give a cop-out answer, but it's really hard to say, because we get way, way more of Chase — 6 years on the team that we see, two in the OR, plus another pre-series — versus Kutner, who has something like 1.5 considering the weirdness of early S4. To completely generalize, I think Chase probably is a better doctor overall than Kutner (Kutner is more creative/"brilliant," Chase is more of an all-rounder), but it's also an unfair comparison — Chase is older and more experienced — and a completely meaningless one.

Kutner is undoubtedly talented and clever and has that Creative Spark in drove; he also does come off as kind of… inexperienced? There's a running joke that he's sort of a liability; he's a fast learner and develops quickly as a doctor, but he also very much has his weaknesses: he's very friendly, but he doesn't have a great bedside manner (or filter); he has a couple non-defibrillator moments that show he's not great at physical procedures, he's sometimes a bit careless… I don't want to make it sound like he's a bad doctor, because he isn't, but his thing is Creativity and Ideas, right? He comes off as generally inexperienced. He has room to grow. I don't think he would have made a great head of diagnostics as we saw him, because he doesn't have leadership skills, struggles with social skills at times, and is still very much learning how to be a doctor. These are all things Kutner definitely could have gotten better at and grown past, but we never got to see too much of that growth, which makes guessing at his development difficult. He's just… young, you know?

House the show (and House the person) also has a pretty strong thesis along the lines of suffering makes you a better doctor, cynicism makes you a better doctor. We see it time and again with Cameron in early seasons, with her slow turn away from idealism being treated as a positive; we see it with Chase, and how he almost literally physically becomes House in S8. The choice the show presents is become cynical and Houselike, or leave. This makes me think that had Kutner stuck around, he would have had to face a similar crossroads: either lose his sunny idealism (and inexperience), or get out. It's easy for me to picture him as a great diagnostician; it's hard for me to picture him as taking over House's department, because the show pretty clearly equates that (with Chase and Foreman) with being like House.

I can see Kutner choosing to leave and start his own diagnostics department elsewhere because he doesn't want to lose his enjoyment and love of "the game." I can't as easily see him becoming "like House" in the way the show posits is necessary for the job. Or anyway, I don't want to imagine him that way, because Kutner's excitement and enthusiasm are such cornerstones of his character and it would be a shame to lose it. Chase starts the series as a similar (if less intense) version of the same character, and look how worn down he gets. He murders a guy!

The thing is, I don't think Chase was the natural heir to the throne either. I can see why people say "if Chase, then Kutner," as they serve similar roles on the team, but that's very much forgetting that for the first half of the series (Epic Fail seems to be the end point), Foreman was presented as the natural successor to House, and Foreman was treated as House's protege. Creativity and brilliance are part of it, but ruthless, apathetic genius was considered more important by the show, and Kutner doesn't have too much of the former traits (and Chase had to grow into his apathy and lose his morals over time). Nor is inheriting Diagnostics a good thing.

This is something that bugs me about these discussions on who would have or should have or deserved to take over Diagnostics: it's not a good thing. The show is fairly explicit about this. This isn't — IDK, Game of Thrones (rant for another day, asoiaf is also very much about how wanting to rule is a bad thing), this isn't a contest for who gets to "win" and be House. House doesn't want to be House. Chase in Diagnostics in the final episode isn't framed as a triumph. He looks terrified. It is a tragedy. He's become a lonely and cynical person! Hurray! I'd much rather Kutner left and found his own practice and stayed happy than that.

#malpractice posting #robert chase #lawrence kutner #house md meta

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eaglyn · 1 year ago

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Strictly A Business Relationship | Alhaitham x reader smut and confession

Warning: drinking, drunk sex, no use of protection Summary: It took Alhaitham several months to warm up to you, but it only took him one night of heavy drinking to actually confess. Not proofread :)

Today was a day like any other. Sitting at your desk, receiving papers, filling papers, sending out papers, making several trips from the library to your office, so on and so forth. All within of your job description as... nobody knows.

You were just Y/n. The Sages knew you as Y/n, the students and researchers know you as Y/n, everyone knew you as Y/n. Some people called you the 'Jack of All Trades', as anything from cataloguing new information to taking care of official papers, occasionally supervising experiments, keeping track of certain area's monthly expenses and research funding was your responsibility. It became a motto within the Akademiya: You have a problem? Go to Y/n!

Since you did practically every job that nobody volunteered to do part-time, you had quite the network. Everybody knew and trusted you, and therefore you could get any information you wanted, only dreaming about having the freedom to turn against this accursed institution and destroy it from within with all the information you had.

It's through this can of baked beans that you call a job that you managed to get acquainted with the Akademiya's Scribe, Alhaitham. At first, you found him rather peculiar. He was completely objective towards everything, and it seemed like he didn't have emotions at all. He just stated factual information in the most indifferent manner as possible, and emphasis on factual, since nothing left his mouth that couldn't be backed up with a ton of evidence and research. He was so smart it surprised you.

Upon some sort of miracle, many of the free work spots that you filled in for were taken, as such the Grand Sage offered you a new position that would give you more opportunities to showcase your own genius. Your title was still basically the same 'Ask-Me-To-Solve-Your-Problems Y/n', but now you at least had a job description, and a higher salary.

Your new job was looking through submissions of findings and categorizing them, supervising experiments and making sure they are done according to the submitted thesis and ensuring that the experiment materials were used and not repurposed illegally, and being a witness any time people from the Akademiya got in trouble and were handled by the Mahamatra, making records of the case in the process and maintaining a portfolio of them.

You could also be called 'I-Just-Stand-Here-And-Nod Y/n', but occasionally you did have important things to do. Like the one time you teamed up with Alhaitham. It was unexpected, but not unpleasant. His job as Scribe and your job as... whatever you were happened to intertwine, leading you to to go on an errand or two together and end up back at your place to go over all the findings.

After a while, he grew to respect the extent of your knowledge, eventually seeing you as an equal. Over the years of having a job as chaotic as yours, you also developed his way of reacting to things, the exception being that you acted like you cared. The way he saw you was an absolute genius who could still lower herself down to other people's level, entertain their menial ideas, pretend to be invested in their meaningless eventual turmoil, without ending up as a gossip point.

You were a beacon of trust within a giant web of people, and Alhaitham being so unconventional, you were like his equal opposite in personality. So modest, graceful, kind and trustworthy, and he started getting drawn to that.

Eventually your attitude of not losing your humanity rubbed off on him, but only when he was around you. He claimed he didn't care about anything or anyone, but when it came to you, he cared.

At first, it was small changes in his behavior like smiling occasionally when he was with you, thanking or complimenting you when he felt it was necessary. Then it became a habit of you two to go out to a bar and have a few drinks after a long afternoon brainstorming session.

You were a lightweight compared to him when it came to alcohol, so he'd act disappointed when placing his arm around your shoulder as he walked you home, only to maintain his image.

After some time, he'd find it easier to loosen up around you as opposed to staying as he usually was. Whenever you two were out drinking, he'd place his arm around your waist, and as he was walking you home, he'd give you a piggyback ride or carry you in his arms if he deemed you too drunk or too tired.

Once the project the two of you had been working on was over, you two once again went out drinking, but having drunk way more than the usual, Alhaitham couldn't be bothered to care about Kaveh's future remarks, he just walked you to his house, as yours was too far away.

After wobbling into his house, he noticed that Kaveh was probably out tonight, as such he grabbed a few beers and headed to his room in case his roommate would come back. You two continued popping bottle after bottle, to the point when even Alhaitham was seriously drunk. He wasn't your type of drunk. You were the type of drunk that found everything way too funny, while Alhaitham was just clingy. He sat on his bed, holding your waist as you laid with the back of your head against his stomach.

"Hehee, you look funny upside down." You said, looking up at him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He raised his eyebrows, leaning closer to you.

"You're still pretty, it's just funny." You said after concluding that upside down Alhaitham was just as pretty as regular Alhaitham. It probably wasn't even the alcohol in your system, after all the angle didn't change the fact that his hair was nice and silky, it didn't change the mesmerizing color of his eyes, or his perfect lips.

"Upside down Y/n isn't bad either." You started giggling after hearing this.

"I'm not upside down, silly, you are. I'm normal." You reached up to tap the tip of his nose with your pointer finger.

"If you say so, normal Y/n." You blinked twice at him after he said this.

"I'm always normal, why do you emphasize?" You raised your eyebrows, and he just shrugged. All the alcohol in his brain added onto the fact that you were there made his natural, arrogant responses turn off.

For a while, you two just sat there silently until you decided that you were bored of your current position, so you sat up beside him, only for him to lean onto your shoulder and hug your torso.

"You're very pretty, Alhaitham." You giggled at him after looking down at his face for a while. Your sudden statement made him look up at you. "You have very pretty eyes, a pretty nose and very nice hair. And you also have pretty lips. 10/10, very kissable looking."

For once, he was blushing. While the look on his face didn't change, the redness in his cheeks was not something you could miss.

"Hehe, you're blushing!" You said before pinching his cheeks.

"Ow... Why did you do that?" His words fell on deaf ears as you just continued to squish different parts of his face with your hand before you just settled on playing with his hair.

"I want to ask you something, Y/n." He said out of the blue, completely seriously.

"What is it?" His tone indicated that it wasn't time for you to start joking.

"What am I... to you?" His question almost made you sober up in a sense as you looked at him in the eyes.

"I mean... you're Alhaitham. We've been working together for a while now, but we also hang out after work. And the way we're just laying here, essentially cuddling isn't quite friend behavior either. I don't know. That's the most concrete answer I can give." He nodded and swallowed. "Why? What am I to you?" You asked.

"When I met you, I was interested to see why you were so popular among everyone despite having a seemingly ordinary job. At first, I didn't think much of you, but as we were working on this case together, I realized that you were insanely smart. You are just like me, you're a genius. But even so you can remain so compassionate. You act so human around other people, despite the fact that even you yourself see their problems as meaningless. Everyone trusts and admires you, and rightfully so. I feel like you've shown me that that the part of me that I've always seen as a weakness, an inconvenience is actually good." He said, and now you were the one with tomato cheeks.

"Aww, I appreciate that." You said.

"Truthfully, I need you, Y/n. You complete me." He said, looking into your eyes with utmost sincerity.

You slowly leaned in, pressing your lips against his, one hand buried in his hair and the other tracing the muscles on his back while he just held you close. The way his lips felt on yours had your head in the sky while your stomach was spinning in circles. He was craving you, evidently so.

His hands wandered to your thighs, easily lifting you onto his lap without even breaking the kiss, then he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you even closer. You hummed against his lips as he squeezed your hips, gripping his hair before finally pulling away, breathing heavily.

"Y/n." He said looking you in the eye. "I have to warn you that if we kiss one more time, I won't be able to stop myself. The decision is yours, Y/n. We either go back to just hanging out or we can give in to our desires. You choose."

You nodded, evaluating whether or not it would be a good idea to sleep with someone in your current state. Then again, it was Alhaitham, not just 'someone'. With that, you crashed your lips against his, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sat in his lap. Suddenly the smell of him was even more intoxicating, along with the fact that he was so close to you.

A few months ago if someone told you that in the near future you'd be sitting in Alhaitham's lap, making out with him in his bed, you would've called them crazy. But now, here you were.

He groaned as you pulled on his hair, squeezing your butt as his other hand wandered up to your breasts, feeling them through the fabric of your dress. Since it was an off the shoulder dress, he could easily just pull the neckline down and expose your breasts. The cool air in his room hitting your exposed nipples made them harden while shivers were sent down your spine as he started fondling them with his hand. In the meantime, you could also feel his erection bulging through the fabric of his pants, and you only wanted more.

You started rocking, rubbing yourself against his crotch, chasing after every bit of friction, almost melting when you heard him groan deeply. The way he had you wrapped around his finger had your mind spinning, and you could only imagine what it would feel like to have him inside you.

He soon break free, but only to strip off his clothes, while you did the same. Lucky for you, you only had your dress and your panties, so you sat back down on the bed, watching him undress. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the way his muscles flexed every time he moved, and you could feel your imagination running free. While you valued your dignity, you totally wouldn't mind being bent over a desk by this man, even if half of the Akademiya saw. And you had him all for yourself.

He finally turned towards you with the last of his clothes discarded, and you felt your eyes being glued to his crotch. It was bigger than any you've seen before. It had to be at least eight inches, thick with veins, and a tip that was oozing with precum.

He just had a grin on his face as he observed the look in your eyes. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." He said, walking over to the bed. He signaled for you to lay down before opening your legs and getting on his knees.

"You're wet." He said before proceeding to drag his tongue over your slit. He looked you straight in the eyes as he dove in, sucking on your clit while his fingers ghosted over your thighs, making you shiver. It didn't take long before you were moaning at every swirl of his tongue around your clit, and even more so whenever he licked over your opening, teasing to push his tongue in before going back to your clit. You could feel a knot forming in your stomach, but just before you could finally cum, he pulled himself away, once again looking you straight in the eye as he used his thumb to clean his face and lick everything off.

You gulped as he climbed on top of you, nervous because of the size, but also boiling with anticipation because of the climax he robbed you of. He teased your clit by rubbing his tip against it before aligning himself with your entrance and slowly pushing in. He was huge.

He moved very slowly, pushing it in inch by inch and stopping to let you adjust after every inch. The way he stretched you out hurt, causing you to scrunch your eyebrows. Seeing your expression, he leaned down to press a small kiss on your chin before pulling out and slowly pushing you in.

He started moving at a slow and steady pace. It was still a little painful, but the pain was quickly shifting to pleasure as his veins rubbed against your walls. It all felt like a fever dream. He looked insanely attractive as it was, but something about the way his naked body towered on top of you made you want to scream.

"You good?" He asked, looking up at you with a lustful, but patient gaze. You just nodded in response and waited for him to start moving again.

This time his pace was a little faster than before, but it was still overall slow and steady. You were trying to stay quiet which ended as soon as he leaned down to start sucking hickeys onto your neck. He supported himself with one hand while the other kept squishing your breasts and pinching your nipples. This combination was simply too much for your mind and body to handle, as such you quickly turned into a moaning mess as Alhaitham continued rocking his hips against yours.

You barely even realized that he'd moved you when he flipped you on top of him. He was sitting with his back against the bedframe and positioned you on top of him, hands on either side of your butt. You used your hand to direct his dick to your entrance before lowering yourself onto him, releasing a soft moan in the process.

He once again buried his face in your chest, kissing your neck, your breasts, sucking on your nipples all the while guiding your hips with his strong hands. He paired that with the movement of his own hips, and soon you were back to moaning out loud every time your pubes made contact. He was so deep inside you that you could feel his tip kissing your cervix each time. You started craving more, taking control of your hip movements and starting to move a lot quicker, and he soon got the idea, matching his pace to yours.

It was like an itch in inside you that needed to be scratched, but nothing was enough. That was until he held your hips down tightly and started thrusting up into you at an insane speed. Sounds of skin slapping and moaning from both parties filled the room, and you could feel yourself tightening around him as you threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut.

"You're... so tight." He said, continuing this pace for about ten more seconds before both of you had climaxed. You were seeing stars and your walls were pulsating around him, sucking every bit of his cum out of his dick. The sensation of being filled with cum was something you didn't know how to even describe, but it had you hugging Alhatiham close, still heaving for air.

"That was amazing." You said, resting your chin on top of his head, giving him a face full of boobs.

"Yeah..." He said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He cleaned you up and gave you one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers to sleep in before he himself put on a pair of pajama shorts and climbed into bed next to you, covering the both of you with a blanked and holding you close. Your mind wandered back to the conversation that lead to this spectacular experience in the first place.

"Alhaitham, remember what you asked me?"

"Hm? Oh you mean when I asked what I mean to you." He responded, almost half asleep.

"I think I have an answer. To me, you are the one I love." You said, placing your hand on top of his hand that laid on your stomach.

"I love you too, Y/n." He said, then placed a kiss on the back of your head.

"Hehe, I'm no longer single." You giggled once again, but this time it was more because of how tired you were. "I managed to bag Alhaitham! Al-fucking-haitham! Can you believe it, Alhaitham?"

You heard him chuckle quietly, which made you do a little victory dance in your head.

"Sleep, Y/n." He said, and you muttered a 'fine' under your breath before closing your eyes and falling asleep within a few seconds.

Both of you were severely hungover when you woke up in the morning, but Alhaitham went to prepare breakfast for the two of you while you stayed in bed, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. He soon came back to tell you that breakfast is done, and you got out of bed walking out of his room with a big stretch and a yawn.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Kaveh, his roommate was coming out of his room, to the living room just then. Poor man would've never expected seeing Y/n from the Akademiya being there in none other than Alhaitham's clothes. As such, he screeched. "AAAH! Y/n from the Akademiya? What are you doing here?" You knew Kaveh, there have been times when he had to interact with you for certain jobs.

Alhaitham walked to you and hugged you from behind, looking Kaveh in the eyes before saying: "She's my girlfriend."

"What? Is this true? Blink twice if he paid you to act." Kaveh said, looking at you, but you just blankly stared at him without blinking.

"I'm pretty sure I have a higher salary than him, he can't bribe me with money. So yes, it's true." You finally responded, making Kaveh once again turn his attention back to his roommate.

"But how? When?" He was absolutely, positively flabbergasted.

"I'm simply better at talking to women than you are." Alhaitham said with a completely straight face, and you were just entertained to watch this whole drama unfold.

"No. That's not true. Amani from the Spatamad Darshan is going to confess to me any way now!" He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"You've been saying that for half a year now." Alhaitham responded while you just giggled in his arms.

"You- How dare you?" Kaveh said, storming off, while you and Alhaitham just went to the kitchen to have breakfast.

You were certain that your life will never be boring again.

#genshin x reader #fanfic #confessions #romance #reader insert #female reader #genshin impact #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #smut #eventual smut #drunk #tw drinking #genshin alhaitham #genshin kaveh #kaveh #alhaitham and kaveh bickering

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squgs · 1 year ago

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"Alicent resents Rhaenyra having the freedom that she never did." This is a pretty common hotd take which is complicated by the fact that Rhaenyra doesn't actually really have that much more freedom (she also has to marry and have children, and also ends up in an abusive marriage). So I'm wondering what if Alicent knows that? What if her resentment isn't that Rhaenyra never has to pay the price for her transgressions/freedoms, but that Alicent and her family are the ones who pay for Rhaenyra's freedom. When Rhaenyra goes out with Daemon, putting her reputation and marriage prospects in jeopardy, it's Otto who loses his job (after he saves her from likely having to marry Daemon). When Rhaenyra has obvious bastards that will create multiple succession crisis's, it's Aemond who loses an eye and is threatened with torture, and Vaemond who gets murdered. Alicent spends most of the series under the assumption that if Rhaenyra has to choose between giving up being queen and murdering her half brothers she'll choose the latter, gaining her freedom by harming Alicent. In this context her resentment makes a lot of sense and is more than just spite and jealousy (though I'm not saying those aren't present).

This also has me thinking what if Alicent is the more self aware one of the two of them? I think she knows how shit her situation is in a way that Rhaenyra might not until episode 10 when Daemon chokes her. Alicent at least by episode 9 recognizes her father for what he is and in her own small way able to fight for what she wants (Rhaenyra's survival and peace). She at least knows she's in a prison and is able to build a window in it, as Rhaenys condescendingly described. Rhaenyra on the other hand might truly believe that she's the exception to all the sexism in Westeros. That her name, her dragon and her father mean that she isn't like all the other girls. And for a while that's true. She gets to do things that no other woman in Westeros could get away with. She either doesn't see the cost to Alicent and Criston and Otto and Aemond and Vaemond, or she see their fates as their own faults. That all collapses in episode ten when she sees how completely alone she is. The men who are supposed to be obeying her seem more inclined to listen to Daemon and Daemon will not place her needs above his own or at least won't without first assaulting her.

This then allows for an interesting thesis of the show if it was intentional. We're given two women who have very different responses to patriarchy, but neither approach can save them. Obedience won't save them, promiscuity won't save them, a dragon won't save them, the right husband won't save them, the right father won't save them. The only thing that could have maybe saved them is solidarity, something that we see Alicent give up on in episode 5 (whether Rhaenyra has ever considered using her position or privilege to help another woman is an open question).

Obviously there's no definitive proof of this idea, but I find it interesting and that it adds depth to the tension and bitterness between Rhaenyra and Alicent.

#hotd #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #pro alicent hightower

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wilderness-of-thoughts · 4 months ago

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Before:

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, the moon was shining through the curtains outside the window. And in front of you on the table was a miniature version of Gojo. You listened almost carefully to what he had to tell you. About how he was on a mission to the Old Temple in Kyoto. Routine. A few curses and a few bigger ones were disturbing the peace of the area. Nothing he couldn't handle.

"... And then the light and everything got big." He finished by raising his little hands up, his tail wagging nervously and his ears twitching. "I don't know what curse did this because I was sure I had gotten rid of all of them and none of them would have had that kind of power. And how the fuck did that damn thing get through my barrier?!" He was thinking more out loud than to you. He put his hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "hey, y/n, are you even listening to me?" He looked at you seriously now.

And here we have a problem. Did you listen to him at all? Well, yes, and in other circumstances you probably would have cared, but... Those eyes twinkling in the dark, that fluffy tail that seems as soft as dandelions, those little cat ears that move nervously with his head, and that body of his. Tiny, tiny, adorable.

"yes.. but now I'm fighting with myself because I have a great urge to squeal like a teenager, take you in my arms and cuddle you." You said honestly, clenching your hands on your T-shirt with your remaining willpower. "Stop being so cute or I'm losing." You warned.

"don't even think about it. I may have shrunk, but I'm still Gojo Satoru. The strongest sorcerer.... Hey, are you laughing?!" He growled at you and his tail stood up. Your eyes sparkled with tears of suppressed laughter.

"No!" You lied.

"yes! You laugh at my misfortune! Fuck y/n get a grip and be serious."

"I can't believe those words are coming out of your mouth." You commented, reaching into your pocket for phone. Gojo was too busy dwelling on his fate to pay any attention to it at the moment.

"I am always serious!" He hiss at you. Wait what?! He made a hiss like a cat! No, that's something to remember, if you had any concerns before, they're completely gone now. You aimed the camera at him, enchanted. "Put that away, this instant. I warn you. One photo and...-" Snap. At that moment you felt a sharp pain in the hand that held the phone. It was perforated and completely unusable. Gojo used his cursed energy, you knew it even though you couldn't see it.

"Ouch! Hey! This was supposed to be for posterity!"

"Let posterity kiss my ass" He hiss again.

"Just imagine, in a few decades someone will want to write a PhD thesis on the life and work of the famous Gojo Satoru! This is for documentation." You tried to stroke his ego.

"so let them finish their sentence and move on to the next chapter!"He exhaled loudly through his nose, crossing his arms over his chest.

"ok." You put your phone down, it's good that you have your progress in Genshin saved in the cloud, otherwise you would probably despair more than he is now. "But you know, it's hard to take you seriously in this state." You weren't even concerned about his shrinkage anymore, but rather about the fact that it was he himself that shrunk and not his clothes. At the moment, he was wearing only a headband that was clumsily wrapped around his entire body. As if he was trying to hide in it. In response to your words, he flattened his ears and lowered his head, flushed with shame, anger, and humiliation. You smiled wryly. "But hey, I'm here! Don't give up, little one."

"I'm not tiny!"

"Now you are." Gojo growled again. You sighed, looking away from him. You need to gather your thoughts. Focus y/n! Focus! His silence was unusual."Okay, so let's summarize. You are shrunken. You can use your power. You don't know what shrunk you." Gojo nodded, glancing at you, his tail moving slightly, pleased that you were finally starting to take the subject seriously."what do you say we go back there and.... check the place out?"

"That might be a problem," he grumbled. You tilted head to the side in surprise, sending him a questioning look. Gojo ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. "I blew up ...." He whispered.

"What?"

"I blew up this damn place when I discovered I couldn't become normal!!!" He screamed looking at you. He knew he did wrong but he can't turn back time.

".... And how did you get back here?" You were strangely calm. His tail curled under him, and his ears flattened back again. He didn't answer your question, he simply teleported from the table to the couch next to you. Oh, yes. You forgot about that. You sighed heavily. You wanted to calm him down so you instinctively placed your hand on his back, there was no barrier, you stroked his head with your thumb feeling his tail on your skin in nervous movements. Just like you would pet a little cat in a rag.

"No one can know about this." He spoke quietly, calmer than before. You agreed with him without saying anything. He was speaking out of shame, but also if anyone found out what happened to him, if the elders, heck! His enemies knew he would have a much bigger problem now... Heh... A bigger problem.

"so why didn't you call someone better? You know, Nanami, Yaga, even Megumi."

Gojo didn't know why. You were the weakest, had practically no power, and weren't the best at being ordinary either. A clumsy, indecisive, emotional girl. Despite this, despite all the years you worked for him, despite the fact that you knew each other even before Geto...

Why the fuck did he call you? Gojo lifted his head to look at your face. You seemed so different and yet familiar as stared at him with attention, curiosity and... Care. Gojo smiled slightly, for the first time since he became so small. He only now felt your warm hand on his back. He trusted you, you never betrayed him, you never let him down, you never said no. He gave you increasingly irrationally stupid orders just to test your endurance. When will you crack? When will you have enough? When will the weakest link give up and leave?

Never.

Even when he deliberately humiliated you with his whims, when he teased you, you never left. Yes, there were tears, words spoken in anger, he saw you break down, but you never left.

"Because it's your job to clean up my mess" He replied with a cocky smile, clearly calmer. He watched as you wrinkled your nose in dissatisfaction with the answer, as you twisted your lips as you thought of a text to get back at him. He loved it. And you probably would have thrown him some sarcastic line if he hadn't purred. He didn't even realize it. A quiet purr escaped his body, and you heard it, and then...

"Holy shit, Gojo! Are you purring?! Yiiik! Again!"You chirped, taking him in both hands, careful not to hurt him, and brought him to your cheek in delight.

"NO!" Gojo pressed his hands against your cheek, trying to push himself away, yet he purred quietly, so quietly that he hoped you wouldn't notice. Maybe it won't be so bad? Gojo felt that he did the right thing by turning to you for help. When this is over he'll buy your phone back, but for now for his own safety he'd rather you don't have the camera in your hand.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #fluff #itty bitty gojo #gojo catoru #catoru #tiny gojo #reader is female #jjk gojo

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hiemaldesirae · 6 months ago

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picked up this book called 'murder your employee: the mcmasters guide to homicide vol 1' from my local bookstore and . Hmmm. am i hearing murder academy radiostatic au... (<- delusional)

quick rundown of the books setting (time period vaguely 1950s, before 1962 at the latest) is that there's this murder academy (i say that but its closer to a uni than a boarding school which is typically what i think of when i read academy) open to applicants of all ages to train their students to murder. the admissions fee is an extremely high price, but regular people can enter in via sponsorships (like scholarships, sort of, but its more like a specific rich person sponsoring the candidate). the students don't operate on a regular year by year schedule because 1) no one knows where the school is and thus cannot always tell even what season it is much less the month 2) students are informed of their graduation basically the day of, when the faculty decides theyre ready to leave and complete their thesis project (AKA the murder). anyway its a very fun book and so of course i had to be insane about its premise

For what it was worth, Alastor hadn't meant at all to end up studying at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners.

Which, in fairness, was just a fancier way of saying that he hadn't meant to get caught.

It had been a situation entirely out of his control. For whatever reason, that night, the swamp had been especially difficult to navigate- even alone, much less with a bloodied and battered body slung over his shoulder, he's quite certain it would have been a struggle to work his way around the place. And while that had never been a problem the few dozen or so times he'd made the trek before (granted, they were without the actual body in his hands, but it didn't make much of a difference when he'd been carrying heavy sacks of sand to offset the weight), there was an unfortunate caveat in his plan.

He hadn't banked on being seen and followed by a truly infuriating pair of 'detectives' (though surely whatever idea they'd held of a detective was truly and fully siphoned from one of those insipid moving pictures his dear Mimzy was ever so obsessed with), and he hadn't expected to be offered a spot as a student at this... interesting facility.

The smiley man sitting in front of him nods emphatically as Alastor finishes his little cajoling speech. The nametag on his black and red suitjacket reads Dean Morningstar, and a half-poured cup of brandy sits on the side of his table. Alastor eyes the alcohol with interest, if only because looking anywhere else in the room might make him lose composure and attack the bothersome man sitting across from him.

"So, then... Mr. Hartfelt, is it true that your next target was to be your father?"

Alastor narrows his eyes at the dean. The room's atmosphere seems to drop as he holds his gaze, both of them wearing smiles that convey vastly different emotions. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

Of course, such a lousy comeback isn't tantamount to a proper argument (unless you're the type who enjoys messing with people, which Alastor is in all moments except this one) and the dean smiles when he realizes Alastor's slip up.

"See, you have an extremely generous patron backing you on your goal... not only to take down your father, who, by the way, seems to owe you quite a lot, considering your less than stellar upbringing and childhood, so good luck with that one, but also in relation to the other bodies that have been found half-submerged in the swamp." The little devil smiles merrily. "Sorry about that one, by the way. But we had to be sure you were a good candidate for our very highly revered course list. I mean... your sponsor is paying a lot of money to see you succeed, so... we had to be pretty thorough. Again, sorry, but it's just standard protocol."

Alastor clenches his jaw, feeling his eye twitch. He'd more or less tuned out whatever else Dean Morningstar had said after he admitted to resurfacing the already weeks old bodies in the swamp- Alastor's very first targets- as a means of... assessing him, apparently. "So you're the reason the bodies have started turning up in the bayou...?"

"Not entirely," Dean Morningstar shrugs, providing no further context. "In any case, this is sort-of a caught with pants down situation, I think. You don't have many options, Mr. Hartfelt. Either you stay as a student, or we let the truth out- and let your mother know first, before getting rid of you."

He grins sunnily at Alastor. "What will it be, young man?"

So, that was that.

Following that conversation (blackmailing session) Alastor finds himself being the unwitting recipient of a campus guide by the dean himself, who, despite his short stature and seemingly accomodating personality, had already managed to make himself an enemy in the form of one (1) incredibly vexed young radio host slash serial killer in the making.

"...And that's the Music Hall, where my vice-dean and most beloved wife holds her concerts and lectures on Murder, as a Fine Arts- you may notice the ingenious references there to one Mr. Thomas De Quincey, the famed opium eater of the 1800s London..." Alastor turns a blind eye to the dean as the man just kept on talking, choosing instead to focus on the surroundings instead of the urge to strangle the annoyance beside him.

The trip to the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners- a mouthful and an incredibly unnecessary one at that- had been less a trip to a school and more like a kidnapping, in which Alastor had been more or less blackmailed into going with the two detectives who'd found him in the bayou that day and then drugged to high hell from some sort of tampered liquor, then promptly deposited in front of the school gates and almost fed broken glass twice before nearly being poisoned and then having to sit through another blackmailing session with the Dean (the guy who'd tried to poison him in the first place). So... all in all, a rather unpleasant experience on his end.

Still, the scenery almost made up for it.

The campus was almost the size of his town back home, and towering gothic buildings from before his time populated the grounds. Signs in different languages were littered around the campus grounds, and exotic foliage grew in just the right places to make the patchwork of cobbled streets and oddly vintage buildings look uniform.

"Oh, Vox! How are you this afternoon?"

Alastor's attention is drawn back to the dean as the man greets a young man dressed in formal evening attire, complete with a pocket square boutonniere and sleek black gloves. The man in question has short-ish black hair, tied back into a small ponytail with a deep blue ribbon, and two striking eyes: one a glassy larimar blue and the other the deep brown of axinite gems. Alastor finds himself regarding the other while he and the dean make simple conversation. Something about him strikes him as familiar, though he can't quite put a finger on it exactly. "Going to the Music Hall, I presume?"

"That would be correct, Sir," Vox inclines his head respectfully. "Professor Leviathan asked us to dress for the occasion, since we would be doing another ballroom class."

"Ballroom class?" Alastor raises an eyebrow, and the man startles, seemingly not having noticed he was there. Rather inept for an assassin-to-be, Alastor frowns. Were these really the sorts of students they were training? Pretty-faced civilians knowing nothing of killing, who dressed up in evening gather for afternoon classes?

"A-ah, yes..." Vox looks off to the side, seemingly nervous. His cheeks redden slightly, like a child caught in the act of stealing candy. "Uh. You're new here, right? I haven't seen you around before..."

"He is," Dean Morningstar confirms, beaming. "Just arrived this morning, with a very generous sponsor backing him. In fact, he's going to be rooming at Pride House because of the sponsor!"

"Oh, is that so?"

Vox's easy confidence seems to come back to him as he turns to Alastor, seemingly mollified by the Dean's interference. Something inside of Alastor wants to see the man nervous again, if only because the uneasy approach of the man with the gemstone eyes reminded him of the shaky-footed does he would fake out during hunts. "Well, in that case, we might be roommates. It's nice to meet you, Mister...?"

"Hartfelt. Alastor Hartfelt," Dean Morningstar says before Alastor can introduce himself, smiling even when Alastor directs a glare at the man. "He's quite the upstart, I'll have you know- Hell, I think he may have set more fires on his first day here than you did!"

Vox chuckles awkwardly, a reaction that has Alastor's eyebrows raising with curiosity. "Well, I'd sure hope not. I really wouldn't want to cause Professor Leviathan any more trouble than we already have. He deserves a bit of a break from troublemakers like us, I'd say."

While Alastor is... okay, not really all that sure what exactly Dean Morningstar was referring to with 'fires started'- in his case, they were all non literal, considering his first arrival here had ended with him on the wrong end of a shotgun (its irony was not lost to him now, three hours later and standing in the middle of what looked to be a town square plucked straight out of Vienna's bustling populace despite the fact that they were in a location completely unknown to the rest of the world)... but whatever this man had done... it intrigued him, especially given Vox's reaction to it.

"Anyway..." Vox smiles once more, inclining his head in a bow. "I really do have to get going now. If I don't, I'm afraid I may be late, and Professor Asmodeus always picks on the latecomers to answer questions first."

"Ah, we won't keep you any longer, then," Dean Morningstar agrees genially. "Have a good afternoon, Mister Vanhal!"

"You too, Dean Morningstar, Mister Hartfelt," Vox bows once more, before turning off and heading in the direction of the Music Hall. Alastor regards the other man's retreating silhouette carefully.

"Is there something you want to say, young man?" Dean Morningstar snaps him out of his reverie, covering the faint smirk on his face with a gloved hand.

While Alastor wishes he could simply meet the other with simple derision, there is a question he had been meaning to ask. "What was the evening get up for?"

Dean Morningstar shrugs, but there's a glint of something Alastor doesn't quite like in his eyes. "Why don't you go and ask Vox yourself, if you're so interested?"

"...I'm surprised your staff haven't tried to murder you yet," Alastor responds shortly. He's much too tired and frustrated to entertain the man, and- well, frankly put, his mind is a little distracted at the moment at the thought of the man with the mismatched eyes.

Dean Morningstar laughs. "They're certainly welcome to try, as are you. After all, you're now a student of the Hazbin Instution for Homicide Practitioners- and we pride ourselves on our hands-on, engaging curriculum. Hopefully, your sponsor finds what they're looking for by sending you here."

"Hopefully," Alastor agrees. After all, there's nothing else to say: from here on out, it seems to be do or die.

Student Report written with input and conference from Dean Lucifer Morningstar

Student: Alastor Hartfelt, 29 years old, Sponsor

Sponsor: [REDACTED]

To the esteemed and generous sponsor of one Mister Alastor Hartfelt,

Enclosed is a report of your charge's first day at our esteemed institution. Please dispose of this report as soon as you are finished reading it for privacy insurances. We at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners thank you for your interest and your patronage.

Sincerely, Dean Lucifer Morningstar.

#oops i got a bit carried away with this one #ill be honest i originally noticed the book because it sounded like something mk would like #and then i had to purchase it because the cashier didnt have any change for me when i was purchasing the 7 husbands of evelyn hugo . So.#i mean i dont regret it i guess ill just wait for the next volume #btw for anyone interested in why vox dressed in evening wear is for the ballroom dancing occasion + gloves can be used to hide prints #its a rule in the book to always be dressed for the occasion. or well not a rule but like . a general guide for when youre committing murde #also im duly aware of the fact that they call it deleting and not murdering but thats just soooo fucking stupid im not calling it deleting #i am also aware of the fact fhat they are not training serial killers at mcmasters but this is hazbin and u know what #they Can train serial killers. as a treat #ran rambles #radiostatic #hazbin hotel #chai writes #the hazbin institution for homicide practitioners

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kikiswriting7 · 5 months ago

Text

Take a Chance ✵ JJK ✵ MYG - 4

✵ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✵Summary: Y/N just move across the world to start her University. She is paired with a roommate who is complete social butterfly and makes a bet, Y/N needs to take more chances. And at the hint of her new found friend, her social and romantic life take a dramatic turn.

✵Tags/Warnings: Smut, College AU, red flag, sexual tension. angst, dirty talking, drinking, friends with benefits, full of cliches, friends to lover, temptation

✵Notes: Hello! Sorry it took a bit longer than imagined! I am also writing my bachelor thesis together with this and its a whole lot of words hahahah Anyway hope you enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list please sign up on this link! (You must be over 18 ;) )

lots of love, Kiki

CHAPTER 3 - ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL

Jin is screaming at the TV as we play the video game he so desperately begged to play. "Seriously!? How can you be this good?! It's not fair! You said you never played it before!" He quickly restarts the game from the point where I finished, and he didn’t. I shrug it off, smirking. We've been playing every other day together, either through calls or him coming over. Normally, we play some co-op game where we can team up against what we swear are young boys, who we are sure are screaming behind every elimination point we get. But today, he wanted to try this new Mario game where we need to complete the courses against each other.

“What can I do if you keep falling over?” I say with a straight face and a side-eye when he restarts the same level we have been trying to finish for the past two and a half hours.

Jimin, sprawled on the couch next to us and entertained by his phone, just laughs off the misery of his friend, earning him a fast shush.

“Ahhh, shiiiiish,” he says, taking a deep breath before pressing play again. “You know, I think we finally found someone who's good at winning. I bet she’s better than JK….” Jimin says to no one in particular. But the one he was talking about, equally sprawled in a corner, is quick to glance his friend’s way.

“I would bet my chips on you, Dice,” Jimin says, poking my leg with the tip of his foot. The nickname, unfortunately, stuck. Not because I liked it, but because they thought it was hilarious—such a random word for a nickname. Gabi proved her point for the nickname not too many nights ago when we were at a bar and I refused to do more shots with her.

The nudge delivered by Jimin was enough to lose my timing and jump wrong, letting Jin follow on with the course.

“HA!” He jumps over the seat. “Who’s the best now?!” He is excitedly playing the game standing up now, getting the attention of the two other boys in the room.

“Clearly not her…” JK mumbles under his breath. I give him a bad look, sitting back on the couch. Not too many jumps later, Jin’s character follows suit, descending to the bottom of the screen with a sad losing music. Jimin laughs again at the situation and goes back to being on his phone.

They have been over almost every day for the last five weeks. Eli is also one that doesn’t miss an opportunity to be over. However, since Yoongi introduced Mina, he’s been a bit more distant. If he doesn’t say he’s busy trying to finish a project for whatever class he has, he vanishes, to the point that not even the others know where he went. Whenever we do get to talk, often just small talk when the others are choosing the movie, he seems to always go back to the subject of this girl in school that he thinks is adorable. Every time he mentions her, he manages to describe her loosely enough that I (Jimin, Gabi, and I) think that the only person he could be describing is me. Mina was ruled out as a suspect as she doesn’t go to the same school and doesn’t exactly fit the characteristics he keeps mentioning.

“Man, you need to jump literally two seconds earlier,” JK gets up, steals the controller from Jin, and drops in the middle of the two of us, breaking the zoning out that I was entering.

Before he presses start, he leans closer. “Sorry, but this one you're not gonna get lucky, Dice.” And turns back to face the TV.

The countdown starts, and we both get ready to try and not lose first. Even Jimin, who clearly doesn’t give a single care, sneakily puts his phone down to watch what is about to unfold.

The game starts, and we both are flawlessly jumping the boxes, each step closer to the point Jin and I couldn’t pass. Knowing the circuit better, I know when to run faster, so I end up in front of JK, who is now reaching closer and closer to the edge of the seat. Everyone is holding their breath as we both successfully pass the point where we were stuck, and we can clearly see the end of the course and the last jumps we need to make when the door slams open with an out-of-breath Gabi, breaking our concentration long enough that we cannot complete the almost-done course.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “What is it now?” he asks.

“Oh man! I have piping hot freaking tea,” she slams the door shut. “I just saw Yoongi!”

“Are you for real?” Jungkook jumps up and points to the TV. “We almost won!”

“If you let me finish, you would have the same reaction as me,” Gabi says, flicking him off. She locks eyes with me before she continues, “I saw Yoongi. With Eli. As in, them together, quite close, together.”

Jimin is now the one sitting up. “What the fuck? Are you serious?” And Gabi just nods, confirming it.

“Forget it. This is so stupid. And so what if they were together?” Jungkook sits back down next to me but receives a side-eye from all of us, without reply.

“Anyway… thought you should know that,” she looks at me and at Jimin. Us three have developed almost psychic abilities at this point. We all know now that she means that the mystery girl might, in fact, not be me, but Eli.

Jimin sits back, rubbing his temples, processing the revelation. The room falls into a heavy silence, the excitement from the game now a distant memory. Jin, sensing the tension, puts down the controller and turns to Gabi.

“Wait, are you sure it was Eli? Maybe it was someone who looked like her?”

Gabi shakes her head, her expression serious but still with wide eyes. “Oh, I’m positive. They were really close, drinking that coffee.”

I glance at Jimin, who looks back at me with an expression that mirrors my confusion and concern. Eli and Yoongi? The idea of it doesn’t sit right, but Gabi's encounter seems hard to refute.

“Maybe they’re just friends?” I suggest, trying to diffuse the situation, though I know it sounds weak.

Jin, always the peacemaker, tries to lighten the mood. “Yeah, maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. You know how Yoongi is, always friendly with everyone.”

But the seed of doubt has been planted. I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself growing more and more interested in Yoongi. His charm and the way he could always make me laugh—it was hard not to develop feelings. But now, knowing about him with Eli, of all people, it feels like a punch to the gut.

Jungkook, still beside me, is watching me closely. He’s become good at reading my emotions, even when I try to hide them. He shifts a little closer, his shoulder brushing mine, offering silent support.

Jimin, ever the skeptic, isn’t convinced. “Gabi, you sure you’re not jumping to conclusions? Yoongi’s always been a bit of a player, but this seems... different. I mean, I’m pretty sure that both of them know that you like Yoongi…”

Gabi crosses her arms, standing her ground. “I know what I saw. They were way too close to just be friends.”

The room falls silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, and I know he’s worried. I can sense he wants to say something, but he holds back.

Finally, Jin sighs. “Look, sitting here speculating isn’t going to help. Plus, Jimin I might add that hes our friend for ages, so maybe lets not jump the gun here.” He says giving him a small side eye “Why don’t we do something to get our minds off this?” He suggests

Gabi nods enthusiastically. “There’s a party at this club in the city centre. We should go. It’ll be a good distraction.”

Jimin looks at me raising an eyebrow and smirking, waiting for my reaction. I take a deep breath, trying to push away the hurt. “Yeah, let’s go. Maybe a party is exactly what we need.”

As we start getting ready, the mood in the room shifts slightly. The anticipation of the party brings a sense of normalcy back, even if just temporarily. Jin and Jimin are quick to joke around, trying to lift everyone’s spirits. And starting the pre drinking that we normally do before going out.

The drive to the party is filled with laughter and light-hearted banter, a welcome distraction from the earlier tension. When we arrive, the thumping music and the buzz of people immediately envelop us.

Inside, we try to stay together. We find ourselves mingling with the people in the middle of the club. But my mind keeps drifting back to Yoongi and Eli. I spot Jungkook across the room coming back with a few more drinks, our eyes lock. He gives me a reassuring nod, and I feel a bit more grounded.

As the night goes on, Gabi, Jimin, and I find ourselves getting progressively drunk. We take shots, laugh at stupid jokes, and dance like there’s no tomorrow. For a while, it feels good to let loose and forget about the confusion and hurt.

“Another round?” Gabi shouts over the music, holding up her cup.

“Why not?” Jimin grins, already looking a more then just a bit buzzed.

I laugh, feeling the alcohol warm my veins. “Let’s do it!”

We clink our glasses together and down the shots, the burn of the liquor making me wince. But it’s a good kind of burn, one that makes me feel alive and carefree.

Jungkook watches from the sidelines, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s sticking to soda, playing the responsible one tonight. He catches my eye and raises his glass in a silent toast. I smile back, grateful for his steady presence.

Hours pass in a blur of music, laughter, and drinks. At some point, Gabi pulls me onto the dance floor, and we lose ourselves in the rhythm. Jimin joins us, his movements loose and carefree. We’re a trio of drunken joy, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Yoongi and not far behind, Eli. My heart sinks, and the carefree feeling evaporates.

Gabi, noticing my distraction, follows my gaze and frowns. “Ignore them,” she says, squeezing my hand. “Tonight’s about having fun.”

I nod, trying to take her advice to heart. But it’s hard to shake the image from my mind. Jungkook appears beside me, offering a gentle smile.

“Hey, wanna get some fresh air?” he asks, trying to talk over the loud music.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I say, grateful for the escape.

We step outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffy, crowded club. The outside, filled with people smoking and chatting loudly in the street.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft.

I shrug, definetly feeling the alcohol in my system now and dulling the edges of my emotions. “It’s fine. Its not like we had anything anyway” I try to push away the conversation that I definetly don’t want to have right now.

He nods, understanding. “You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are.”

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. For the past weeks, he has kept to himself with the flirting. We all have been going out together and his presence ever so reasuring. I give him a small laugh and shrug away his statement.

He smiles, his eyes warm. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, but I swear I could see his eyes sparkle when looking back at him. My heart flutters and I definetly must be way more drunk than I thought. I need to go find Gabi. She must be drunk in a corner somehwere.

I quickly turn around and stumble and Jungkook quickly grabs my arm to bring me back to my feet. “Should we go home? I think you had enough of party today…” he says carefully. Damn that cold feeling on my stomach. I definelty don’t feel anything for him. But why do his lips look so pink and soft? I can only imagine what they would feel like..

I shake my head snapping out of it, catching his big round eyes staring back at me.

“No, I need to find Gabi. We always come back together.” We weave our way back through the throngs of people, the music thumping louder as we reenter the crowded club. My head is swimming, a mix of alcohol and emotions making it hard to focus. Jungkook stays close, his hand lightly resting on the small of my back, guiding me through the chaos.

As we make our way to the bar, I spot Gabi leaning heavily into Jin, laughing at something he said. Jin, ever the gentleman, is trying to keep her upright, a bemused smile on his face. Jimin is nearby, his gaze darting between Gabi and the crowd, looking slightly lost.

I manage to make my way over to Gabi, and she immediately latches onto me, her eyes bright and unfocused. “There you are! Let’s do more shots!” she exclaims, her words slurring together.

I’m about to agree when Jimin and Jungkook intervene. “Nop, no more shots for you” Jimin says firmly, gently prying Gabi off me. “You’re already drunk enough.” Jungkook nods in agreement. “Let’s get you some water instead.”

Gabi pouts but doesn’t resist much as Jimin leads her away from the bar. I giggle but I feel a twinge of disappointment, part of me wanting to keep the party going, to drown out all the emotions bubbling inside of me right now. But Jungkook’s steady presence next to me is a reminder that I will not be taking anything else tonight other then water.

Just then, Yoongi and Eli approach our group. They don’t make it obvious that they arrived together, and no one brings it up. Yoongi’s eyes find mine, a mix of concern and something else in his gaze. Eli is by his side, but there’s a distance between them now that wasn’t there before.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, his voice calm and composed. “You guys okay?”

I nod, with a loose smile on my lips “Yeah, just trying to keep Gabi from getting too drunk.”

“I would say Jungkook and Jimin are trying to keep you both from getting more drunk” Eli jokes and I feel him tense next to me. “It was his idea!” Gabi butts in the conversation and points to Jimin who, also drunkly, tries to steady her.

Yoongi glances at Gabi, who is now back to happily chatting with Jimin and Jin, then back at me. “I can take you guys home if you want. I’m heading out anyway.”

We leave the club, Yoongi and Eli flanking us as we make our way to the bus stop. Gabi and Jimin are in high spirits, though their drunken state makes it clear that they’re struggling to keep their balance. Gabi leans heavily on Eli, her laughter spilling out in bursts that mix with the cool night air. Jimin, also swaying slightly, is grinning like a fool and bumping into things as we walk.

Yoongi sticks close to my side, his presence steady and reassuring. Eli occasionally glancing back at Yoongi and me.

The bus ride is a mix of awkwardness and exhaustion. I notice that Eli is starting to fidget. Gabi and Jimin are getting more out of control, their drunken antics making it hard for me to keep a clear head. I try to help them find their seats, but Gabi keeps giggling and leaning against me while Jimin slumps into the seat, his head resting against the window.

Yoongi sits beside me, his arm brushing against mine. He leans in slightly, his voice soft. “How are you holding up?”

I glance at him, appreciating his concern. “I’m okay, looking forward to get home”

He nods, a small smile on his lips.

The bus jolts to a stop, and I watch as Eli exits, waving goodbye with a slightly disheveled look. The doors close behind her, and the bus continues on its route.

By the time we reach our stop, Gabi and Jimin are both in bad shape. Jimin stumbles off the bus and as Yoongi unlocks the door, as he is the who is the most sober between all of us, Jimin pushes him aside and crashes onto the couch in the living room, his body collapsing in a heap. Gabi, somehow finding the energy, manages to make her way to her room, though she’s swaying and mumbling incoherently.

Yoongi helps me get Gabi to her bed, making sure she’s settled before turning back to me. The apartment is quiet, the noise of the night replaced by a peaceful stillness.

I make my way back to the front door, feeling a wave of sobriety wash over me as the adrenaline from the night fades. The reality of the situation hits me hard. I’m alone with Yoongi, the person I’ve been trying to understand and connect with for weeks, but was just out with one who I tought was one of my best friends here.

“Thank you for everything tonight,” I whisper trying not wake up Jimin who was asleep not too far, I look up at him with a shy and grateful smile.

He takes a step closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “It was my pleasure. I’m just glad you are okay.”

There’s a charged silence between us, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions. Yoongi’s gaze drops to my lips, and I can see the desire and warmth in his eyes. Without thinking, which I can only blame the 5 shots and the many cups of wine I downed this evening, I lean in, my heart racing.

Yoongi meets me halfway, his lips capturing mine in a heated kiss. The world around us fades away as the kiss deepens, his hands finding their way to my face, holding me close. The kiss is a mix of longing and relief, a culmination of all the emotions we’ve both been holding back.

When our lips finally meet, it’s a delicate, exploratory touch—soft and hesitant, as if we’re both savoring the moment of first contact. His lips are warm and tender against mine, sending a rush of sensation that makes my heart skip a beat. The kiss deepens slowly, becoming more passionate but still gentle, as if we are both savoring the newness of the moment.

His hands move to cup my face, holding me gently but firmly, as if anchoring us both in this moment. I respond, my hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the tension and warmth of his body. The kiss becomes a dance of give-and-take, each movement smooth and synchronized.

Suddenly, Yoongi’s hands slide down from my face to my waist, pulling me closer against him. The intensity of the kiss increases, and a soft moan escapes my lips as his tongue brushes against mine, teasing and exploring. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the firmness of his chest against mine, and it sends a shiver of excitement through my body.

I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, the kiss growing more fervent. His hands roam my back, tracing patterns that make my skin tingle with anticipation. Every touch, every brush of his lips feels electric, and I’m completely lost in the sensation, in him.

We finally break apart, gasping for breath, our foreheads resting against each other. Yoongi’s eyes are dark with desire, his breathing ragged. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits softly, his voice husky with emotion.

I nod, my heart pounding. “Me too,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my racing heartbeat.

He smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes my heart flutter. “I should go now. It’s late, and you need to get some rest. You’re definitely going to need some coffee tomorrow.”

I manage a small laugh, still feeling the aftershocks of our kiss. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, for getting us back here.”

He gives me one last, lingering look before stepping towards the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I reply, watching him leave. The door closes behind him, and I’m left alone in the quiet apartment, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and nervous anticipation for what comes next.

I head back to my room, feeling completely sober now, the kiss still fresh on my lips. He’s right. I will definitely need that coffee tomorrow.

The sharp light of morning filters through the thin curtains, turning my small bedroom into a bright, albeit blurry, reality. My head is pounding with the remnants of last night’s revelry, and I feel a dull ache behind my eyes. I groan and stretch, hoping to shake off the fog that lingers from too many drinks.

I roll over to check my phone, squinting at the screen as I fumble with the brightness. The messages from Jungkook, sent in the group chat, catches my attention first, asking if we all made it back safely. Yoongi’s reply—a simple thumbs-up.

God. Yoongi. Did I actually kiss him last night? The reality of what happened last night comes crashing back. My heart skips a beat as I remember the kiss, the heat of his lips against mine, and the surge of feelings that accompanied it. The warmth of Yoongi’s touch, the intensity in his eyes—it all feels so vivid and real, despite the haze of alcohol that clearly clouded my judgment.

I sit up, shaking my head to clear the lingering grogginess. My fingers instinctively brush over my lips, still tingling from the kiss. Was it a mistake? Was it something real? The confusion and anxiety settle in as I replay the moments leading up to that kiss in my mind. The way Yoongi had looked at me, how our lips had met, the way his touch had felt.

I stumble out of bed, trying to piece together the fragments of the previous night. The sun’s rays are harsh against my eyes, magnifying the headache that pulses with each heartbeat. As I pad across the room, my reflection in the mirror catches my eye. My hair is a mess, and I look as disheveled as I feel. I reach for my phone again, scrolling through the messages to see if there’s any sign of further communication from him. But there’s nothing new.

I head to the kitchen, hoping that a strong cup of coffee will help me clear my head. The ritual of brewing coffee is a small comfort amidst the turmoil. As the aroma fills the kitchen, no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps returning to the kiss.

The way Yoongi’s lips had felt on mine was more than just a normal kiss— Had it been just the alcohol talking? Or was there something real beneath the surface? I keep replaying the moment in my head, his warm breath against my cheek, the way his fingers had cradled my face. But Gabi had seen him with Eli, not long before.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I need to talk to Yoongi, but how do I even begin with a conversation like that? What if he sees it as just a mistake, or worse, what if he regrets it? Maybe he was drunk too and might not even remember last night.

The coffee brews slowly, giving me time to gather my thoughts. I decide to take a shower, hoping that the refreshing feel of water will help me clear my mind. As I let the hot water cascade over me, I try to focus on the present, on the routine of getting ready for the day.

Wrapped in a towel, I check my phone again. The lack of new messages from Yoongi only heightens my anxiety. I wonder if he’s also been thinking about what happened, or if he’s already moved past it. The uncertainty is eating at me.

“Hey, thanks for last night. I was wondering if you are free later? Thought we should talk”

I hit send and put my phone down. Now, it’s a matter of waiting for his response. I hear commotion on the living room as Jimin starts to come back to himself. I prepare an extra cup of coffe and head to the living room. I drop onto the couch next to Jimin, who’s already wincing at the strong aroma of coffee. He looks as rough as I feel—his hair sticking out in odd angles, and the dark circles under his eyes making him look like he’s been through a battle.

“Man I feel bad if you feel like how you look” Jimin grumbles, his eyes half-shut as he reaches for the coffee I’d prepared for him.

“If I were you, I’d keep quiet. You don’t look much better yourself,” I reply, trying to match his attempt at humor with my own. I lean back against the cushions, feeling the slight comfort of the soft fabric against my tired body.

Jimin takes a slow sip from his cup, grimacing as the bitter taste hits his tongue. “Ugh, I don’t even remember getting home last night. Was it really as crazy as it felt?”

“It was a pretty intense night,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. I don’t mention the kiss, not really sure why. I blame the hungover I’m nursing. “We all made it back somehow. Gabi’s still asleep in her room.”

Jimin nods, his gaze distant as he tries to piece together fragments of the previous night. “Yeah, I remember bits and pieces. I think I saw Yoongi...”

The mention of Yoongi makes my heart race a little faster. I try to push away the nervousness and focus on Jimin’s recovery from his hangover. “Yeah, Yoongi was a real lifesaver. He helped get us home and made sure everyone was okay.”

“Oh, nice of him,” Jimin replies, his voice a bit clearer now.

I manage a small smile and nod, though my thoughts are still consumed by the kiss and the uncertainty of where things stand between Yoongi and me.

The sound of my phone buzzing interrupts the quiet moment. I reach for it, my heart skipping a beat as I see Yoongi’s name on the screen. I quickly open the message, hoping for some clarity.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night too. I’m free this afternoon. How about we meet up and talk?”

A mix of relief and anxiety floods over me. He wants to meet and talk—this is my chance to understand what really happened between us. I take a deep breath and compose my reply.

Sounds good. How about we meet at that? I’ll see you there around 3?

I send the message and set my phone aside, feeling a slight tremor of nerves in my stomach. Meeting up with Yoongi will bring everything out into the open. I glance at Jimin, who’s now scrolling through his phone and looking slightly more awake.

“Hey, I’m heading out this afternoon to meet up with Yoongi,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “Do you think you’ll be up for a little while? Maybe we can catch up after I get back?”

Jimin nods, managing a weak smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to get through this coffee and maybe a nap. You go ahead. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a touch of gratitude. “let me know if you need anything else”

I’m not surprise that we were walking up late, way past noon. I get ready, throwing some casual clothes and leave the appartment, taking my time to reach the café. The sunlight feeling oddly warm and bright as I head towards the café. The crisp air helps clear my mind a little, though the anxiety about the upcoming conversation with Yoongi lingers. I keep replaying the kiss in my mind, trying to decipher its meaning.

When I finally reach the café, I find a quiet corner table and settle in, hoping that the ambiance and the soothing music will help calm my nerves. I order a drink and wait, my thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation.

Yoongi arrives right on time, looking casual but put-together. He spots me and gives a small wave as he walks over, looking not at all bothered by anything. Why do I have a feeling this might go south?

“Hey,” he says as he approaches, taking a seat across from me. “Thanks for meeting up.”

“Of course,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I thought it was important we talk.”

We both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the kiss hanging between us. Finally, Yoongi breaks the silence, his voice low and sincere.

“I’ve been thinking about last night a lot,” he starts, looking directly into my eyes. “I really felt something when we kissed,” he had said, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. But then, he had added, “But I’m not looking for anything serious right now. So I would appreciate if we could keep it low what happened.”

Yoongi’s words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world around me seems to blur. The warm café, the chatter of other patrons, the gentle hum of the coffee machine—all fade as I focus on the unexpected turn in his confession

His expression is a mix of apprehension and regret, as if he’s bracing himself for my reaction. I sit there, trying to process the weight of his words. The initial rush of relief I felt when I saw his message this morning feels like a distant memory. The knot in my stomach tightens as I grapple with the reality of what he’s saying.

I’m still silent, struggling to articulate my thoughts. The brief silence feels interminable, filled with the noise of my own racing heartbeat and the hum of the café around us. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

“I’m ok with that.” I try to brush it off even though the only thing in my mind was that damn kiss. He still seems tense. “I mean it was just a moment of…intensity. You just want to forget what happened?” I ask him

Yoongi’s gaze drops to his hands, fidgeting with the edge of the napkin on the table. “Not exactly forget. More like…keep it as a moment that happened between us, but not let it change things or complicate what we have right now.”

I nod slowly, the disappointment settling heavily in my chest. “I understand. I guess I should’ve expected something like this. I mean, we were both drunk”

We sit in silence for a moment, the initial tension easing slightly as we both process the conversation. Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee, and I try to find solace in the soothing ambiance of the café.

Finally, I’m the one to break the silence. “Do you want to talk about something else? Or maybe just…hang out for a bit?”

“Uh, actually I’m a bit busy today. Maybe another day?”

I nod, trying not show the dissapointment that is brewing inside.

“Yup. Thanks for the talk today!” I say to him and he quickly finishes his drink and gets ready to leave.

Yoongi finishes his coffee quickly and stands up, his movements a little too eager as if he’s anxious to leave. He offers me a quick, somewhat awkward smile before gathering his things.

“Thanks for being chill about it,” he says, his voice filled with genuine relief. “I’ll text you later!”

I manage a small, forced smile in return. “Yup. Thanks for the talk today!” I watch him as he heads out, the door chiming softly behind him. The café feels emptier now, the absence of his presence leaving a noticeable gap.

As the door closes, the reality of our conversation settles heavily in my chest. I stare down at the remnants of my coffee, the once comforting aroma now a bitter reminder of our discussion. The weight of his words, the certainty of his boundaries, and the palpable sense of finality hang around me like a shroud.

The quiet of the café feels almost oppressive now, the gentle murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups a distant background noise. I glance around, feeling disconnected from the world outside, lost in the aftermath of our conversation.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my swirling emotions. I had hoped for more clarity, a resolution that would either move us forward or let me put the past behind me. Instead, I’m left with an uneasy acceptance of the boundaries Yoongi has set. It feels like a door closing softly, leaving me in a limbo between hope and resignation.

With a sigh, I gather my things and stand up, taking one last look around the café before heading out. The sunlight outside feels warm and bright, but it does little to chase away the lingering shadows in my mind. Previous ✧ Next

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Don't be shy to let me know what you think!! Your feedback is important to me and honestly helps to keep writing :)) Drop by in the comments or send me a private message! Always down to chat! :))

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mccnstruck · 1 year ago

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watching you paint the skies

characters: kazuha x gn!reader

tags: ANGST, angst no comfort, major character death, mutual pining except they never got together

a/n: hi !! i’m back from hiatus, but idk if im gonna be writing anytime soon after this. maybe? who knows. but, this is for @mishantics for @solarisfortuneia’s summer santa event !! i hope you enjoy <3

“1…2…3…Up!”

“Hmph!”

A loud thump rang through the Crux as the crew members made sure it was set to travel along with the other cargo.

One of the crew members scanned her eyes around the cargo before giving a thumbs-up to the crew below. “Alright, that’s the last of them!”

“Thank the archons. After the Sakoku Degree was lifted, it seems like all the cargo has piled up during that time!”

The crew member looked around Liyue Harbor before sighing. “Definitely. You never realize how much people connect with each other until it’s taken away from you.”

The crew members above shared an agreed nod. One of them spoke up. “My husband was stuck during the Degree, and man… was it the most painful time of my life.”

“Same with my son! He had a thesis he had to complete and knowing he had a vision made my heart tighten every night. I wouldn’t even know if my son was dead or alive with every sunrise that woke me up.”

“Thank the archons the degree has been lifted.”

The silence that rose between the crew wasn’t awkward, considering they’d spent a lot of time working in silence. It was instead filled with gratitude, that they were able to work in a place where they connected families and loved ones together. It was of gratitude to see their family in a situation where they didn’t know if they would see them again.

The scribbling of a pen stopped and ears perked up. The white-haired poet looked up at the unusually solemn crew and was about to ask if they were alright, but was suddenly interrupted by a flash of light before it erupted into loud cracks of thunder.

Not only did crew members look up, but the people roaming through Liyue’s shops looked to the skies as well. The sky looked as if a brush stroked the skies using the sun’s rays as paint. The red and oranges and blues all clashed all while the thundering clouds as threats of rain roamed through Liyue Harbor.

“Woah…!”

“Just gorgeous…”

“What a beauty…”

Besides the occasional flinch when thunder struck, Kazuha sat in awe of the skies. How they could be so fierce and still capture everyone’s eyes. Oh, how they could leave Kazuha, possessor of the vision of wind, breathless.

His eyes widened as he swore to archons he heard your laugh when the thunder roared again. And oh, how his heart yearned for you like the day he heard your final laugh, slowly losing the charm he could never find in anyone else.

The memories of you lying there; leaving your mark on the ground to everyone else with red haunted Kazuha.

That day, he ran faster than when he was being chased by soldiers. He ran faster than when news spread of his friend being killed by the Shogun. He ran faster than the rain pelted down onto the ground.

That day, he ran so fast he thought he was going to black out from the sudden adrenaline in his bones.

He fell to his knees next to you and almost felt like his own heart was shot from pain.

When he took your cold hands in his, he knew. You weren’t going to walk out of this battlefield alive. And miraculously, knowing this as well, you smiled at him.

“Kazuha…”

“Yes, my de-”, Kazuha stopped his sentence.

You softly laughed, and Kazuha wished, prayed that he could hear that laugh anywhere else. Anywhere else but here.

“Ever so hesitant. I should’ve-” you coughed, before continuing,” I should’ve asked you out to that nice restaurant since you haven’t.”

Your eyes screamed declarations of love, and Kazuha wishes he saw how you looked at him before.

Tears welled up in Kazuha’s eyes, joining the rain that poured down. Your hands shakily wiped them off his face, and he relished in your touch.

“I…I’ll be waiting by that restaurant then. Would you get the flowers I like too…?”

You smile. “Of course.”

Your cough was harder to ignore, and the rapid decrease of warmth in your skin wasn’t ignored by Kazuha. He gritted his teeth; he wanted to tell you (mostly himself) that you would be alright. That somehow, you would still be alive. But he hated lying to you, and it already seemed you knew it too.

“Kazuha.”

His tears fell, as he desperately pleaded, “Please. Don’t go. Don’t leave…”

Your last tears fell onto the ground, as the smile on your face was too painful to bear.

“I love you, Kazuha.”

Your breath was shallow. He gasped for air himself, and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Your eyes slowly closed, taking in one more longing glance at Kazuha.

He gasped, “I…”

He cradled your face, now cold as the raindrops falling. Cold as the soldiers who took you from this world.

Who took you from him.

He slowly lifted your body, as your name in his mouth felt like iron on his tongue.

You were gone.

Kazuha wondered if you were in the skies. Laughing with the storm up ahead; painting the reds and oranges.

If you were still here, Kazuha would’ve said that you’re putting on a show for everyone, since they could all see it. If you were still here, you would’ve said that your eyes were only focused on his own.

If you only…

“Kazuha!”

He jumped in his seat and looked back to see the same crew member who was helping with the cargo.

She smiled. “Sorry for scaring you, but we were wondering if you wanted to go to the harbor and grab a drink. The weather seems like it’s gonna delay our trip for a while.”

Kazuha smiled back. “Of course. Let me grab my things. I’ll catch up with you guys.”

She grinned. “Great! We’ll meet you on the dock,” she said, leaving Kazuha to himself and making her way down.

Kazuha picked up his journal and stared one last time at the emerging clouds.

You were a force to be reckoned with, Kazuha thought. Sometimes how you stepped forward to anything brought him chills.

His vision went blurry, as he pulled his sleeve to his eyes. He could only whisper for you to keep painting the skies for him and only him. He held out his pinky and looked towards the skies.

The thunder roared again, followed by a strong gust of wind. The wind promised Kazuha to guide him in his endeavors and to always lead him to you; all he had to do was look up and watch the sunset as you splashed paints onto the skies.

Kazuha attempted to wipe his tears, but the wind beat him to it; the cold air soothing his tear-stained face. He softly laughed, as he knew you would forever comfort him with your cheeky little ways. He grabbed his things and finally stood up, walking down to the dock to meet with the crew.

Kazuha looked to the skies once more, seeing himself in you. The corners of his mouth lifted as the final teardrop hit the wood below him.

"Wait for me, ok? I'll be there one day, painting the skies with you."

He paused.

"I…I love you too."

The wind blew a kiss to his cheek as a final goodbye, before making its way through the buildings of Liyue and through the mountains, leaving Kazuha once more.

reposting or plagiarizing of my works is not allowed under any circumstances.

#kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x gn reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #[ the lost library ]#damn.#writing these tags before posting almost feels nostalgic #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin angst #genshin fanfic #genshin impact

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maknaeswrld · 1 year ago

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when you loved me | l.mh

You never thought you’d fall in love, and you never realized you already had.

wc: 2.5k

genre: best friends to strangers; idiots in love; angst; no happy ending here

cw: old writing/rewrite; open ending; Jun isn’t based off anyone in particular it’s just a name I picked; mentions of depression, heartbreak, etc.; y/n lowkey kinda stupid I’ll admit it; please let me know if I’m missing anything

Love had never been very high on your priority list. To be completely honest, you thought you could care less about it. You had goals, aspirations, plans, and you’d seen how your high school friends would willingly drop theirs for the boy they loved. You thought it was dumb, how could they so easily forget about what they wanted all because of a relationship that likely wouldn’t last.

That was always what confused you the most.

And of course your best friend, Lee Minho, being a complete fuckboy who taught girls the meaning of love and the pain of heartbreak all within a single weekend, made the whole ‘not being into relationships’ thing that much easier for you.

No, you didn’t need a significant other, the exhaustion of a relationship, or even the simplicity of ‘being in love’. You didn’t need or want any of it, or at least you didn’t think you did.

After graduating top of your class from your school and getting accepted to your dream university, you and Minho drifted apart from each other due to leading very different lives.

At first the two of you had kept in contact, keeping updated and it was just like high school except he couldn’t bring you McDonald’s at the drop of a hat. But of course, as all cliches must, the ability to stay in touch became more and more difficult as your schedules got busier and busier. Chatting every night while you studied turned into once a week, then once a month, and soon enough maybe a dry text strand asking how life’s been.

It was easy to not notice immediately. You were so swamped with finals and thesis papers and paying tuition as well as rent, that you didn’t register the emptiness of losing your best friend. By the time you noticed, his contact in your phone looked like a strangers and when you saw him on tv you knew you didn’t have a part in his life anymore. You’d much rather leave your friendship with him at the happy memories than make it seem like you were only reaching out because of his newfound fame.

You supported him silently. Every local concert, you could be found somewhere in the stands, pride swelling your heart as you witnessed how far your best friend had come. You’d bought his bands merch when you had extra spending money, you’ve even helped clear fangirls away to make a path so that he and his members could have some space, but you never actually reached out to him. It had been too long and you acknowledged you weren’t a part of his life anymore.

You never thought too much about it, the few times you had led to you crying yourself to sleep in his dance team jacket from high school that he had given you ‘officially’ as a graduation gift.

You figured you just missed your best friend, you never once thought of it as being anything more than that. Until one chilly fall evening, at least.

You had gone to your favorite coffee shop, as you did most days, needing a caffeine boost so you didn’t crash after a long day at work, knowing you still had a concert to attend. There, you ran into your old friend, Jun, who was on Minho’s dance team in high school. You, Jun, and Minho had been fairly close knit in high school. The two of you laughed about the odds and sat down to talk and catch up. Time flew faster than you had anticipated and you noticed you were late for meeting up with your roommates. Swearing under your breath, you excused yourself, much to Jun’s confusion.

“I haven’t missed a show yet, and I really don’t want there to be a first. I know we aren’t friends anymore, but I still like supporting him.” You had explained shyly. Jun’s eyes lit up in realization as he checked his phone and also started panicking.

“Shit! I was supposed to be there ten minutes ago. Um, would you mind some company on your way? Since we’re already heading to the same place.”

You nodded in agreement and with smiles on your faces, you both headed out to cheer on your mutual friend.

Upon arriving at the event, Jun took you in through the back door where staff members usually go.

“I’m sorry, I’ll only be a moment. I’m not supposed to be performing tonight, but I still need to check in with the managers in case I’m needed.”

“It’s fine, take your time. I need to go find my friends anyway.” You smiled at him and turned to head for the stairs that lead to the general public area when you saw something out of the corner of your eye. It was the familiar build of the boy you missed more than you’d ever care to admit, standing more confident than he ever did behind BTS. He was laughing about something and the painfully familiar sound made your heart swell with happiness.

But the happiness you felt upon seeing him so close was short lived as Jun, who was previously blocking your full view, moved enough for you to see a girl next to him, also laughing.

You weren’t sure why you felt like your heart dropped, and you couldn’t explain the tears welling up in your eyes, all you could do was turn around and make a mad dash for the door you had entered through moments earlier.

“Oh, Jun! I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” His voice traveled through the hallway as you turned tail and ran, the sound you had heard every single day back in highschool and not once since hurting your heart that much more. You stopped paying attention to everything around you, zoning out everything they were saying, focused only on leaving the building and getting back to the confines of your apartment as soon as possible. You hated when people saw you cry and you hated even more when you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

Time felt like it was in slow motion, your brain couldn’t piece together why you were so upset. Once you finally made it home, you slid down your door after shutting it and cried into your knees, sobs wracking your body violently.

Your roommate that worked late and couldn’t make it to the show came running into the living room and you knew she was trying to talk to you, but you just couldn't hear her. You couldn’t pay any attention to anything, images of him laughing and her smiling lovingly at him etched into your mind.

You didn’t really comprehend what was happening, but you were jolted harshly back into reality when your feet were suddenly submerged in warm water. Looking around in confusion, you noticed you were no longer on your living room floor, but naked and being gently helped into a bath. You were shaking and you felt tear streaks on your face.

“Thank you.” You whispered as your friend washed your hair and massaged your scalp. Your voice was horse and you almost didn’t even recognize it yourself.

Eve was a caring soul and your best friend. The two of you had met in university and when you graduated you both decided to move in together. She had been there for you through thick and thin, and she knew you better than anyone else on earth, except maybe Lee Minho.

“Anytime, sweetie. So do you wanna talk about it or sleep it off?”

“I think I need to sleep it off. To be completely honest with you, I’m not a hundred percent certain what ‘it’ even is.”

“I’ll let the others know to keep it down when they get home, you just focus on resting up.”

She smiled kindly and wrapped a large fluffy towel around you. Gently rubbing up and down your arms as she looked you over, she nodded in agreement and left to grab some clothes for you to put on.

Sluggishly putting on the sleep shorts and tank top she left for you, you felt like a zombie as you walked to your bedroom.

A part of you was wondering how Minho’s show was going, and if he noticed you as you left. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of all thoughts of the boy.

Your bed felt cold and your mind wouldn’t quiet down. All you wanted to do was sleep and forget the indescribable pain that filled you. Sighing in defeat, you threw your blankets off you and moved to your desk, figuring you could get some work done since you couldn’t sleep anyway.

Curling up in your desk chair, you noticed a familiar material draping out of your laundry bucket. You reached out and grabbed the jacket, pulling it to your chest and taking a deep breath. It didn’t smell like him anymore, it stopped smelling like him after the first two washes, but the ghost of it was enough to bring you peace. You hesitantly put on the jacket, zipping it up and burying your face into your knees once again. It was the first time all night that the sadness lifted from your shoulders, even if it was just a tiny bit. Soon enough you felt exhaustion flood your senses, and before you knew it you were awakening to early morning sunlight peeking through your curtains. You had fallen asleep in your desk chair and felt hungover and extremely sore.

Thankful for it being the weekend, you stretched out and moved to your bed, hoping to curl up and sleep the headache away.

As you laid on your side, you heard a soft crinkle. Sitting up, you checked your blankets and sheets for a piece of paper but there wasn’t one. You shrugged it off, etching it up to your mind playing tricks on you, and laid back down.

It had to have been your hypersensitivity to everything because you had never heard the sound before and just heard it twice. You checked your pockets in confusion, thinking maybe you left a receipt or something in it, but both were empty.

Now determined to find the source of the crinkling, you unzipped the jacket and shook it lightly, waiting for something to fall loose but nothing did. You inspected it further after a small glint in the sunlight and noticed a barely visible zipper that blended in seamlessly to the inside of the jacket.

Cautiously unzipping it, you discovered a small hidden pocket that you were certain you had never seen before. You opened it and peered in, taking note of a very worn out, folded up piece of paper.

You unfolded it and immediately recognized Minho’s handwriting, which was now very faded and bled out from it going through the wash, but you could still make it out.

Y/n,

I’m not really sure if I want you to find this or not, but I want to put it here anyways. Jun told me I needed to be brave and, well, when it comes to you, I’m just not. So this is me trying to be brave, for you. I know how you feel about relationships, and I know you never saw me as anything more than your best friend, but I’ve been holding this in since the day you tripped over your own two feet while I was trying to teach you a dance, knocking me to my ass along the way. I’m not sure if you even remember that, but I always will, because it was the day I realized how in love with you I was.

I’m not sure what our futures will bring, a part of me still hopes that it’ll bring you to your senses and us together, but I respect you and your dreams too much to do that to you. Hopefully, at the very least, it won’t pull us apart. I’m not sure if I could handle a life without you in it, I think I’d be too sad.

I genuinely hope I’m by your side when you find this, and I hope we can laugh about it together, but if by some chance future me lets you get away, I want you to know I never had a serious girlfriend because I always thought one day it’d be you, and I also hope you learned to love. It may not be with me, but I hope you’ve found the joys of being in love with someone. I hope you’re happy and doing well.

I know this is really cheesy, that's why I put it in the inside pocket I had made, in hopes you wouldn’t find it. But obviously you did if you’re reading this.

Anyways, happy graduation, Y/l/n Y/n. I’ll always be cheering you on.

Minho

p.s. if you do somehow find this, I’ll buy you a McFlurry :)

You had tears in your eyes as you finished reading the note. Everything started to piece together like a puzzle, you weren’t hurting because you missed your old best friend, you’re heartbroken because the person you fell in love with was happy, but not with you.

You felt so stupid for not realizing it sooner, you were starting to wonder how you had ever passed off anything for it being platonic. You’d watched all your friends fall in love and never once picked up on the signs that you already were.

You were in love with Lee Minho and you had no idea what to do about it. There was a glimmer of hope he was still in love with you, but then you remembered the girl by his side last night. The girl that could make him laugh and put a smile on his face, the girl that was likely by his side before every concert.

Sure, he loved you in high school, but even someone as loyal and stubborn as him must have their limits, and no one would wait for someone they weren’t even in contact with anymore. Just as you come to your senses and accept what your heart had been trying to tell you all along, was when you had confirmed what your heart feared the most.

Love in highschool is fleeting, it’s not the real world, falling in love genuinely with your best friend as a teenager isn’t something that lasts the rest of your life. You’ll graduate and take different life paths and realize that it wasn’t true love in the first place. You’ll grow up, meet new people, and fall in love again, but permanently this time, and any semblance of hope that high school lovers will prevail, shatters like a broken mirror.

You felt even more depressed as you held the note to you, wishing you could turn back the clock and find the stupid hidden pocket sooner. That you could go back and slap yourself for being so blind and naive to think you weren’t in love with your best friend.

But you couldn’t. No one can change the past, only march into the future.

a/n: there’s two separate ways this could end and yes I’ve written them both🤭 thanks for reading, please tell me your thoughts🫶

angsty ending: heartbreak is a part of life

happy ending: love is worth the wait

#lee know #stray kids #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fics #skz fanfic #lee know x y/n #stray kids imagines #stray kids x y/n

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midsummer-semantics · 2 months ago

Text

Paradise Found

Back at it again with part 4 (because I'm feral for this and incapable of stretching out Kinktober into the whole month apparently. Also available on ao3!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Professor Steve Harrington, Grad Student Eddie Munson, Teacher-Student Relationship, Secret Relationship, dom/sub dynamics, Dom Steve Harrington, Sub Eddie Munson, Sex Toys, Object Insertion, Aftercare, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Steve Harrington is Whipped, they're both whipped together like a delicious ice cream, Mutual Obssession, Feelings Realization, Eddie Munson Has a Praise Kink, Praise kink still going so so strong, Ruined Orgasm, but really it's, Edging, Vibrators, Dildos, Masturbation, Facials, Come Marking, Possessive Steve Harrington, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Dacryphilia, Someone put fluff in this porn, Fluff and Smut

Summary:

Or: Steve keeps their relationship strictly above board... mostly.

[Dividers by @steddiecameraroll-graphics]

Read the fic below! ⤵️

It’s pure torture seeing Steve every week, being alone with him in his office like before, and not being able to touch him. Well, it was torture before he knew Steve wanted him, but it’s even worse now with the hungry looks Steve can’t seem to keep control over. What Eddie had assumed was calm neutrality he’s realized was barely-checked desire, and now that he knows Steve much better, he can see it in his eyes even when the rest of his face gives nothing else away.

True to his word, Steve doesn’t touch him aside from a hand-shake here and there if they pass each other in the halls. By the fourth week, Eddie’s going insane.

He knows, realistically, that they’re playing with fire as it is. If anyone were to find out, Steve could lose his job, tenure or not. Eddie could be dismissed from the program for bribing a faculty member with inappropriate favors. It could ruin both their lives.

But that fire only burns brighter when Steve does, in fact, buy Eddie a rather impressively sized dildo and makes him ride it on the floor of his office during one of their late-night private sessions.

“Gotta be quieter, baby boy, or I’ll have to gag you. And if I do, then the discussion ends and so does our session,” Steve warns. Eddie comes all over himself and the rug beneath him just thinking about Steve binding and gagging him.

The next few weeks pass that way, with the first half of their private sessions being dedicated to actual intellectual conversation before Steve orders Eddie out of his clothes and helps him turn his brain off entirely.

Most of the time, Steve just gives him orders and watches, sitting back on the couch or in his desk chair like a king on a throne. But sometimes… sometimes he pulls his glorious cock out from the fly of his professional slacks and tugs himself to completion right along with Eddie. He always finishes in his hand, going through boxes of tissues to clean up as best he can without leaving the sanctuary that his office has become to wash his hands until Eddie is decent and ready to leave. Eddie whines every time; he wants Steve’s come, wants to taste it, feel it on his skin, feel it sliding down his thighs.

Steve never touches him, but Eddie’s never been so thoroughly sexually satisfied in his entire life. Between their in-person meetings and several calls during the week in between, Steve manages to make Eddie come so much it’s like he’s rebooting his system every time. His head is clearer and his grades (which were already pretty great to begin with) are somehow even better. He has his thesis proposal finished and submitted a week before his spring break deadline, and Steve rewards him by buying him a vibrating plug that he makes Eddie wear during their following session, controlling the speed with an app on his phone and bringing Eddie to orgasm over and over until he does, in fact, cry from the pleasure of it all.

Chrissy notices a change in him a couple of weeks into the semester, asking him what’s got him so giddy when he’s normally a walking ball of stress.

“Just ready to be done, I guess,” Eddie deflects. She’s not stupid, he knows she knows something is up with him, but she doesn’t push. Not right away at least.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, Eds,” she tells him one night in the second half of the semester. “You don’t even have any insane bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. So come on, spill.”

He waffles for a bit, trying to decide how much he can reasonably get away with telling her.

“I’m seeing someone. But I can’t tell you who, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

She doesn’t like it, clearly, judging by the unimpressed look on her face, but Eddie just promises to tell her everything as soon as he can, and then teases her by giving her meager details about some of the wilder sex acts themselves until she stops asking altogether out of disgust.

The biggest drawback, really, is that despite the lack of physical contact, it hasn’t stopped Eddie from falling head over heels in love with Steve in the process. God, they haven’t even kissed or held hands or been on a real date and Eddie’s ready to propose marriage to the older man. He’s beyond obsessed with him, and with the way Steve looks at him or talks to him, he’s pretty sure the feeling is mutual, which is the only reason why he’s still putting himself through this torture. He’ll gladly lay himself at Steve’s feet and take any attention he can get like a praying acolyte if it means Steve will continue to bless him with his presence alone.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asks him once they’re settled in their usual spots: Eddie on the couch, Steve in his desk chair rolled over next to it.

It’s their last meeting for the semester. Sixteen weeks have come and gone in a haze of term papers, private lessons, orgasms, and no touching.

“Good,” Eddie answers honestly, arms stretched along the back of the couch, legs crossed in front of him. “Williamson’s classes are insane, but I’m glad for them to be done finally.”

Steve chuckles, pulling his glasses off of his face to clean them on his shirt. “Yeah, Mike’s a bit of an intense person. But you survived.”

“Barely,” Eddie snickers.

There’s a quiet moment between them, Steve returning his glasses to his face and giving Eddie one of those overly fond looks that make his heart race.

I love you, it beats, just for Steve.

“And you’ve already started writing?” the professor asks.

Eddie nods, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs. This obligatory check-in feels routine and like an ending all at once. “Yep. I’d share my doc with you, but I don’t think it’d bode well if my potential marker was leaving dirty little messages for the rest of the thesis panel to find.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink, earning a breathy laugh from the older man.

“You’re probably right,” Steve concedes with a chuckle. “I suppose I’ll have to praise you another way.”

Eddie perks up at that. Normally Steve makes him wait until they’ve discussed some sort of topic first, but considering the semester is at an end and Eddie’s focus is only his thesis now, it makes sense that there’s nothing stopping them from jumping straight to the best part.

“Come,” Steve prompts, waving a hand to beckon Eddie off the couch. The younger man stands, walking the few steps to stand between Steve’s knees, not touching, but so close they could. It’s like a fun little game: how close can they get without being too close?

Steve’s gorgeous hazel eyes roam over Eddie the same way they did the first time, like Eddie’s somehow worth seeing every inch of. His hands flex where they’re planted on the armrests, like he’s fighting every instinct to reach for the younger man.

“Were you a good boy for me today, Eddie?”

Eddie swallows thickly, knowing exactly what Steve’s asking. The vibrating plug the professor has had him wear before it already nestled into place, dormant for now, but present. He was a little surprised when Steve had asked him to wear it to their session, since normally Steve has preferred to watch Eddie open himself up before putting anything in his ass. He’s not sure what’s worse: Steve not being there for the prep, or the fact he wasn’t allowed to come despite how perfectly the plug nestles against his prostate. He’s basically been on edge for hours since putting it in.

“Yes, sir.”

Steve smiles, overly fond and slightly predatory. “Of course you were. You’re always so good for me.”

Eddie flushes as he always does when Steve starts piling on the praise. He shifts on his feet slightly, feeling the plug inside him shift with the movement, drawing a barely there whimper from him.

Steve gives him a sympathetic look before pushing his chair back enough to stand. They’re roughly the same height — a fact that Eddie is always a little thrown by when the man before him carries himself like he’s larger than life — so they’re basically nose-to-nose when Steve stands this close. Eddie fights every instinct to reach for him, to throw his entire body weight into the other man and rip off his clothes to ride him into the office rug. Instead, he waits, eyes barely blinking as Steve’s scan over his face.

“You drive me insane, Eddie. Did you know that?” Steve whispers, his breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips like a kiss. A kiss he desperately wants. He shudders when Steve turns his head enough to brush the tip of his nose across Eddie’s cheek, the contact so light he’s not sure they’re touching at all. “I can’t wait to finally have all of you.”

Eddie bites back a moan when Steve’s breath fans over this throat.

“You do,” he chokes out, clearing his throat. “You do have me. All of me.”

Steve hums, bringing one hand up to trace the barest of touches across Eddie’s bottom lip. “Not yet. Not really. But soon.”

Eddie could bite him. Could stick out his tongue even a little and pull Steve’s finger into his mouth. And Steve knows it, Eddie knows he does, which is why he doesn’t do it. It would be so, so easy to give into the temptation, to let the fire finally consume him and take, take, take.

But that’s not part of the game.

When Steve finally steps away, Eddie’s able to breathe deeply, waiting as his professor circles him like prey.

“Strip,” he orders, rounding his desk to retrieve the large dildo he keeps in a locked drawer in his desk. Meanwhile, Eddie starts with his shirt buttons and makes quick, efficient work of baring himself, folding his clothes neatly on the corner of the desk like always, out of the way but ready to grab should he need to. By the time he’s finished, Steve has set the dildo, along with a bottle of lube, on the desk next to his chair and taken a seat on the couch instead.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Steve instructs, tipping his head to indicate his expensive leather desk chair.

That’s new, Eddie thinks. Normally Steve has him kneeling on the carpet. The only person who ever sits on the throne is the king himself.

Slowly, Eddie steps back, the toy already inside him turning and pressing with every movement as he lowers his bare ass onto the cold leather. Both sensations make him hiss slightly, and Steve gives him another sympathetic pout that’s totally at odds with the relaxed way he’s sitting on the couch, legs spread to show off the bulge already prominent beneath his slacks, arms resting across the back, his phone with the controller app poised and ready in his hand.

“Arms over your head, grab the head rest,” Steve orders. Eddie follows directions, bringing his hands back to grip the soft leather, his legs falling open to show off how hard he already is, the black silicone stuffed inside of him. “Beautiful.”

He knew it was coming, but he still jolts and gasps when the plug turns on, his back arching away from the seat as he grinds down against it. His eyes squeeze shut against the onslaught of pleasure as Steve turns it up another notch.

“You’re gonna come on that, and then you’re going to come for me again while you ride the dildo in my chair,” Steve explains.

Essie mewls and whimpers, hands squeezing the leather tighter and bobbing his head in an approximation of a nod.

“Y-yes, sir,” he stammers. He can feel himself starting to sweat, his body slipping against the leather with every roll of his hips as he tries to work the toy deeper, like it’s not tapered at the end to prevent just that. He might slip right off the seat and crumble to the floor if he could pry his hands loose from the death grip he has on the headrest.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, the edge of the cliff in sight even behind his closed eyes, and just as his breathing becomes erratic and his balls draw up, the vibration stops altogether. He moans in relief and frustration, forcing his eyes open to glare at the older man.

“I said you were gonna come. I never said you’d get to right away,” Steve says with a shrug, like watching Eddie’s slow descent into madness is just another Thursday night. Which, it is, he supposes, but he doesn’t have to like it (even though he loves it).

Steve’s free hand comes to rest on the bulge in his pants, rubbing slowly as they wait for Eddie to crawl back from the razor’s edge of his ruined orgasm. When it’s clear he’s not in danger of blowing before Steve allows it, the vibrations start again, slow at first, but ticking up fairly quickly. Eddie writhes and whimpers through it, sweating even more and feeling tears prickle in the corners of his eyes as he fights not to cry out and alert anyone who might be in adjacent offices what’s going on in here.

“So good for me, baby boy,” Steve praises, his voice not at all helping Eddie keep himself under barely-held control. The vibrations stop when he gets too close to coming again, and a few tears do fall down his cheeks.

“God, you’re fucking pretty,” Steve mutters, squeezing himself tighter. “Fucked out already and crying in the very seat I work from every day. In the chair I’ve sat in fucking my fist to thoughts of you for nearly a year.”

“Steve, please,” Eddie begs, shaking with adrenaline and the knowledge that he’s still going to have to come again after Steve lets him get through the first one.

“I know, baby boy, I know,” his professor croons. “I just want to make sure the image of you sticks in my mind. I can barely be in my office alone without thinking about how I’ve seen you fucked silly and drained on the carpet or the couch. I needed to see you open and begging for me in the spot where I’ve begged for you.”

I’ve begged for you rings in Eddie’s ears, ping-ponging around the empty space in his head where his brain used to be, increasing in frequency when Steve turns the vibe back on again.

It takes next to nothing after that for Eddie to come, shooting up to his neck as his cock kicks wildly without control. Absently he thinks Steve will punish him for coming without permission, but in the moment he doesn’t give a single shit because holy mother of god it’s so much.

“Fuck,” someone breathes, and it takes a few moments for Eddie to realize it was Steve. Barely present, Eddie cracks his eyelids open to find the older man with his hand down the waistband of his briefs, his slacks open but nothing shoved down, like he was too desperate to get a hand on himself to wait the few seconds it would take to move the fabric out of the way. “God, I love watching you come. Think you can do it again on the dildo?”

This is why he loves Steve. Even though the professor told him what was expected of him, he’s still yielding to Eddie’s level of comfort, trusting him to tell Steve if he’s too tired or doesn’t want to continue. And Eddie knows he could put an end to it without issue, knows if he said no that Steve wouldn’t express any kind of disappointment or anger. He knows that Steve’s priority is Eddie’s pleasure, his happiness, and fuck if that doesn’t make him fall a little bit more in love with Steve every time he proves that.

“I’m good. Just… in a minute,” Eddie wheezes, feeling wrung out already despite the still simmering desire to give this man anything he wants. And if he wants to see Eddie ride the dildo in his desk chair tonight then by god he’s going to do it.

Steve snickers, but not meanly, and extracts his hand from his pants so he can get up and retrieve a bottle of water from the mini fridge he keeps in his office. He passes it to Eddie, letting their fingers brush and linger for a moment before returning to his seat.

There’s idle chat between the two for a bit, nothing that would require any sort of brain power, thankfully, since Eddie’s pretty sure his brain is still soup, but eventually, Steve turns the focus back.

“Only a few more months, baby. And then the only dick you’ll ride will be mine.”

Eddie groans, feeling his dick twitch against his thigh at the promise. The knowledge that this is likely the last time they’ll do anything in person until after he receives his thesis marks, combined with the reassurance that Steve is in this for the foreseeable future gives him the strength to pull himself into a better position in the chair. The way Steve’s eyes take on that hungry look again and slides his hand back into his boxers gives Eddie the power to work the plug out of himself before reaching for the dildo and lube.

He doesn’t bother opening himself up anymore, not after he admitted to Steve he likes a bit of pain sometimes, plus he’s already come once, hard, so he’s as relaxed as he can be without stuffing anymore fingers up there.

He would like to say he takes it slow, sitting up enough to make room for the toy before working himself down over it, for the sake of putting on a show. Really, though, it’s because he has less control over his movements in the chair than he normally does on the floor. He nearly impales himself immediately, having to plant his hand on the armrests, his arms shaking with the effort to hold himself up as he slowly sinks down, because he knows Steve doesn’t get disappointed easily, but he would be if Eddie hurt himself needlessly.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Take it all,” Steve rasps, finally working his briefs down under his balls and exposing the flushed, pulsing line of his cock to Eddie’s gaze. “You’re doing so well for me. So beautiful on that cock.”

Eddie whimpers and nods, beyond words as the dildo reaches much deeper than the plug did. Once he’s settled, he wraps a hand around his re-hardened dick, circling the base tightly. He’s not that close, not yet, but the pleasure of being filled and Steve’s eyes drinking him in as he fists his own cock is a lot to take in all at once.

His thighs shake as he adjusts, giving a few cursory rolls of his hips and lifting enough to work himself open on the toy. His movement is restricted, the chair slightly too high, so he reaches down with his free hand to the lever that’ll lower it.

“AH! Fuck!” he yelps, unable to stop the sound as the chair descends too quickly and he’s impaled further on the impact.

Steve tuts, but Eddie can see the genuine worry creasing his brow. “Careful, honey.”

“‘M fine. I’m good,” he promises even as his ass smarts. He really is fine, more shocked than anything, and the slight pain gives way quickly.

“Whenever you’re ready. No need to tease yourself. I want you to ride that dick until you come again,” Steve states.

Eddie nods again, one hand on his throbbing erection, the other on the armrest for leverage, and slowly works himself up and down the intrusion.

Steve spits into his hand, wrapping it around himself once more, and Eddie considers throwing him the lube bottle, but he’s not sure he won’t crumble into dust if he lets his hands move. Steve’s fine, he figures, considering the way he’s barely blinking as he watches Eddie ride the dildo, and the slick sounds of their combined play and the quiet symphony of moans and gasps fill Eddie’s head with static instead.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck, you look so good. Keep stroking that beautiful cock. Wanna see you come again,” Steve pants, his own fist beating his cock like it owes him money while Eddie fucks himself for his viewing pleasure.

It’s all too much and Eddie reaches the edge faster than he thought possible given the torture Steve put him through for his first orgasm. Before he can eke out a warning, Eddie comes on a silent scream, tears streaming down his face and come covering his fist and stomach once more.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Steve mutters somewhere in the depths of Eddie’s subconscious, and he only just registers the hand in his hair not being his own before he feels hot, sticky spend coating his cheeks and forehead, dripping over one eyelid and down his chin.

He manages to peek one eye open, catching sight of the last of Steve’s come hitting his face, feels it like a searing kiss on his skin. He’s covered, not just in himself but in Steve. In their combined pleasure. In the evidence of Steve’s claim on him.

And Steve doesn’t let go of Eddie’s hair, not as he releases his grip on his dick and rubs come-covered fingers over Eddie’s lips for his tongue to chase after. Eddie wants more, so much more, but Steve pulls his hand away to swipe his thumb right through the tear tracks and the come on Eddie’s cheek, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking it off.

“Delicious.”

When he does release Eddie’s hair, he kneels down between his still spread thighs instead, gently lifting his hips since Eddie has neither the strength nor the wherewithal to do it himself, and carefully works the toy out of him. Eddie rests his head back against the chair, a pliant husk that Steve moves leisurely as he cleans him up. There’s a wet towel on his face and torso, too cold since it’s from the water in Steve’s fridge, and quiet murmurs of praise that might as well be in German for all Eddie can understand them.

He starts to come around more as Steve lifts Eddie’s legs again to work his boxers and pants up his legs, muttering a quiet, “Lift up for me,” so he can get them all the way up and fastened. Instead of Eddie’s shirt, though, he’s wrangled into a hoodie that isn’t his, one that’s warm and soft and smells like Steve’s cologne. He’s lifted from the chair and guided on baby-deer legs to the couch, settled against a strong, broad side and wrapped in a protective embrace.

“You’re so good, Eddie. Always so good. So perfect.”

Eddie hums, his head still fuzzy, limbs still heavy, and heart so full.

I love you, it beats, over and over as Steve holds him, his head pressed to Steve’s chest. I'm yours, always.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #sub eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #steddie kinktober

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bestworstcase · 5 months ago

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This is very much a shot in the dark, but in your view of the show is there any chance of Penny somehow coming back? I've seen a couple signs, namely a) her literal last words are "I won't be gone, I'll be part of (Winter)" and b) the Blacksmith's... second words are, with reference to Penny's Maiden Array, "Nothing. No one is ever truly lost."

Factor that in with your belief that Oz's reincarnation curse must be broken, which necessitates at least a dip into the magical/supernatural somewhere down the line. Then add the fact this is the second time she's died under unusual circumstances (it's almost certainly not a mistake that the theoretically rebuildable android is one of the few major casualties of the Fall of Beacon, and given Oz's lack of complete understanding of Maiden physics leaves room for a similar backdoor), and I think there's at least a chance Penny returns in some form.

Really, I guess the question is if you believe this could fit into the story without any troublesome thematic wrangling, or if you think it's more important that Penny remain dead to emphasize the destructive cycle that relentelessly follows all Maidens not named Cinder Fall.

ough it’s been a while since we chewed on penny 3.0 here. the short version is i’m doubtful that it will happen and deeply skeptical of every theory i’ve read as to how she might be brought back, but in light of v9 i do think that penny returning in some form is not completely narratively non-viable if ambrosius did what i think he did.

the core problem with bringing penny back or rebuilding penny (as is oft speculated by the penny 3.0 crowd) is that it flies in the face of the story’s themes; bringing anyone back from the dead is wrong, not because of some bullshit arbitrary rule the brothers made up about death having to be permanent but because this is a world where the natural state of things is a perpetual cycle of life-death-rebirth where, crucially, death is the moment of rest and renewal where all bonds fall away and the soul has absolute freedom to choose what they will become. and anything that abrogates this freedom is wrong.

it’s wrong for the brothers to bar the immortal souls of their creations from ever returning to life, because that’s just a prison – but it’s also wrong for someone still living to pull a dead loved one backwards by resurrecting them, because that’s not the living person’s choice to make. ozma’s reincarnation curse is wrong because it changes him against his will into something he doesn’t want to be. making salem immortal in life was wrong because it’s no different from locking up every other immortal soul in the "afterlife" (which seems to be little more than endless oblivion).

it was wrong for pietro to rebuild penny after the fall of beacon and this is why her arc in v7-8 is a) tragic and b) so intensely focused on her lack of agency and the way she is dehumanized and denied choice by everyone in some way, except winter, from the most egregious extreme of watts’ virus to subtler things like pietro’s remote access or ruby’s initial perspective of “well it won’t matter if she has to be executed deactivated to appease the public because you can just reactivate her again later once this blows over!” – her arc in v7-8 is the narrative thesis against resurrection. penny didn’t choose this, pietro did, and the salt in the wound is that after bringing her back into this child super-soldier living weapon situation he also asked her not to help her friends when they needed all the help they could get, because it was dangerous and he didn’t want to lose her again. (this is not to knock pietro, he’s a great character and his motivations are eminently understandable and sympathetic – but penny is harmed nevertheless.)

thus if penny is to come back it must be by her own choice and her own power; as i discuss in the post linked above, i believe that the instructions ruby gave to ambrosius obliged him to in essence recreate ascension with his own magic in order to dismantle penny without destroying her. and then she died. theoretically this means that penny ended up neither in light’s stasis-afterlife nor in the tree but somewhere like the wellspring of ambrosius’ magic. ambrosius isn’t allowed to bring the dead to life (not can’t, not won’t, it’s “against the rules”), which may prohibit the completion of an ascension-like life-death-rebirth cycle until such time as he’s released from the staff, but the potential is at least—hypothetically—there. but in that case i’d expect her to follow the ascension pattern, and return without her memories; penny polendina died and her soul is reborn as someone new whose heart remembers.

generally i don’t place a lot of stock in “i’ll be a part of you” as foreshadowing – penny is echoing directly what winter told her about fria to comfort her when fria died, and the maidens demonstrably do not work this way and have been stated to not work this way. penny 3.0 theories that hinge on the maiden are honestly a pet peeve of mine, as are most theories of the sort that rely on “well this time it’s different Because Reasons” and of penny is intended to return in any form i am very confident that it will not involve winter or the winter maiden whatsoever except insofar as winter will be glad to see her.

similarly, the mysterious crystal sword haunting ruby in the ever after is not in fact a mystery, it is a physical manifestation of ruby’s grief, as is sundered rose. these manifestations take the form of weapons because ruby is the “weapons are an extension of our selves!” girl – these are representations, symbols for penny and summer in her mind, and the ever after reflects that. see also, ponderstorm. the point is that “nothing, no one, is ever truly lost” is a statement about grief and memory; the blacksmith has penny’s sword because ruby still carries her memories and her love and her devastation.

<- might this also be foreshadowing for penny to emerge from her bootleg ascension cocoon at the end of the story? certainly! it works for that purpose quite well because in that case she’ll emerge different and new yet the heart is always the same. on this, see alyx -> little -> somewhat.

in the event that penny does complete an ascension, i don’t think it can happen until the very end of the story when the god of light has been made to ascend (and darkness too if he’s still around, but i’m placing my bets on ‘dark ascended a long while ago’) and the spirits are all freed from their relics. this is because the journey to getting there quite literally is the journey to rejecting and defeating the divine mandate, you… cannot have penny coming back before the divine injunction against that sort of thing is ended. it’s also, like most everything in this story, an exercise in developing empathy for salem.

the reason i’m skeptical is that i don’t think the narrative is structured in a way that clearly presages penny returning again in some form. if it was in the cards i think there would have been anything at all in v9 specifically laying the foundations. (ascension—and for some reason the character of little*—got the penny 3.0 crowd very hyped, but the narrative does sweet fuck all to draw a connection between penny and ascension and the subtextual associations being made are actually with salem, thus the uncomfortable/nervous “that’s impossible! things have to die… right?” reaction to hearing about ascension, the plug into the storytelling themes via alyx and lewis, jaune’s paranoia, and the tree-is-death-vs-rebirth argument building up to revealing that yeah no salem was right about the brothers. penny’s role in this is restricted to being the sharpest pain ruby is feeling throughout the volume but also—this is the piece that really sinks it imo—being secondary to the deeper all-consuming wound of summer rose.)

*i still think it’s really bizarre that a group of fans who seem to almost universally be penny/ruby shippers latched onto “this mouse who is literally a small child is the reincarnation of ruby’s girlfriend” as enthusiastically as they did like. hello. hello?? i just think that if you infantilize half of your OTP to such an extreme degree that you can’t distinguish that character’s personality from that of an actual like, five year old you have maybe blorboed too close to the sun. at least the “penny fucked with jaune’s semblance to split her soul into various pieces to turn winter and ruby and perhaps this sword into soul jars like some sort of overeager lich” manages to say something interesting about her!

#definitely an epilogue thing if it happens

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