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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

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lila-lou · 1 year ago

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✨ His only exception - Pt. 4/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, sorta prostitution, kinda dirty, violence

Word Count: 1834

A/N: This is part 4 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After another agonizing silence, you turned on the radio. But even Bob Seger couldn't lift the mood with his night moves. You groaned in despair and let your head fall against the window. Soldier Boy watched you out of the corner of his eye for a while before he patted your thigh and got over himself. “C´mon (y/n)! Don't be a grumpy little bitch", he tried his best to sound relaxed and cool but you just turned to him with your eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding? You broke my damn wrist!”. Your voice was filled with amazement and anger.

“Uh-uh! A bit more than sprained. Not quiet broken. There’s a difference”, he raised his index finger for emphasis, moving his gaze back and forth between you and the street.

“Ben!-”. “I fucking apologized, didn’t I?! It was… not intentional and certainly not planned… Who would have thought that you-". This time you interrupted him. “That I what? That I don't suddenly take off my panties for you? Ben! I thought we were friends?”. Your voice cracked slightly towards the end.

“I don’t have any friends,” was all he replied.

“Well, thanks for the clarification!”, you bit back. “How the fuck am I now the bad guy again?! I apologized! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here and you're making it fucking hard for me not to kick you out the damn Car!". Ben was really trying to understand you, but he was new to this. It was new to him, not being adored and worshipped.

“Are you really listening to yourself, Ben? I'm probably the only person on this damn planet who cares about you. And you…why did you have to ruin that?”. This time even he could hear the disappointment in your voice. Still, he didn't know how to make amends for what he had done. “(y/n) I-”. Ben rubbed his beard and looked at you discouraged. “Why did you think I would… let you sleep with me?", you looked at him and felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "Shit, you can barely say it without blushing". Despite the depressed mood, Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little about that fact.

Another silence followed.

“You’re fucking hot (y/n), okay? And I'm horny. Since Russia it feels like I`m horny 24/7. And you doll can’t deny that it would be handy for you to let off some steam too”.

Ben’s eyes found yours. He wasn't lying, but you knew he was hiding something from you.

No matter how long your dry spell had lasted and no matter what Ben would say or do, you could never confess to him that you had been attracted to him from day one. Those words would never pass your lips. Towards no one. Ben was pretty “nice” to you, well at least by his standards. And even though you got along pretty well, it could never be anything more than friendship. Soldier Boy just wasn't a good person. He was incapable of showing emotion, let alone loving anyone but himself. So why should you get involved with him? And even though you had dreamed countless times about him giving you pleasure, fucking you stupid and giving you orgasms like no one else could, you had your principles. No sex without feelings.

“Flattering, but no”, you said, trying to be gentle.

"Why not? A shitload of women would fucking pay for that, do you realize that?”, he replied, stunned. “Okay, listen", you turned to him in the passenger seat and fixed him with your gaze. “Why do you want to sleep with me so badly? Why me? If there are so many women who would do anything to have you fuck ´em unconscious, why clinging to me? Tell me what makes me different? and… well, if I like the reason, maybe I'll think about it". You obviously upset Ben with your words. You could see all the wheels in his brain turning and even after a few minutes he didn't have an answer to your question.

"I thought so. We’re here”, you sighed, getting out of the car. “Give me 5 minutes head start”, you added before slamming the car door and walking with fast steps across the large parking lot. “Day drinking and prostitution, here I come,” you grumble to yourself.

What Butcher had told you, went absolutely against your morals, but you had felt beyond useless for the last few weeks, which was why you finally wanted to prove to yourself that you were useful for more than just tracking down Supes. Although you couldn't imagine anyone more disgusting to set an example than the Deep.

When you entered the bar, the first thing that hit you, was the smell of marijuana and cheap perfume. Even though it appeared to be an upscale local, the owners didn't seem to have much to offer their employees. You looked around and saw half naked girls dancing on poles, fat old men on the sofas in front of them with drool running down the corners of their mouths and in the middle of it all, the Deep. “You got this”, you motivated yourself before taking off your coat, placing it over a bar stool and smoothing down your too-tight and short dress. With a smooth movement of your hand, you threw back your laboriously curled hair and walked past your target's lounge with confident and elegant steps. “Three, two, one-”, you whispered as you felt a hand on your forearm.

“Hey beautiful, where are you going with those beautiful legs of yours?". Oh, how you wished you could have rolled your eyes. Instead, you spun on your heels to find the Deep leaning back into the sofa, letting go of your arm. “Don’t you want to join me?”, he grinned at you. Unfortunately, putting on a show and playing ´hard to get´ didn’t work for him because his brain cells weren’t up to it. “Oh shit, you’re the Deep, aren’t you?”, you feign surprise, holding a hand over your bright red lips. “That’s exactly what it looks like, baby. Come here, come to me”, he didn't pat the sofa, but rather his lap.

After a few minutes of small talk you could finally see Ben from a distance, but he first looked at all the dancing ladies. You tried several times to get his attention but to no avail. He was only a few steps into the bar and two girls were already grinding on him. And Ben being Ben, he wasted no time and starting with cupping their asses. One of the two pushed him onto a bar stool while the other started giving him a lap dance, wearing nothing but a lace thong.

“So baby, don’t you want to show me a little bit of yourself?”. Kevin’s right hand stroked your thigh under your dress while you lay in his left arm. He pushed you further into the sofa, his hand squeezing your ass and making you gasp. In order not to completely give up control, you pushed against his chest with all your strength and quickly slipped onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rode up. Anyone walking behind you would have been able to see your bare butt if Kevin hadn't immediately covered it up with both hands. "Hmm… You want to be in charge, don't you?". You could already feel his erection against your thigh, which only disgusted you more. “How about we dance first?”, you grinned at him, hoping to buy some time. “No, no, no, but you can sure dance for me, baby”, the Deep replied with a big ass smirk. You took Kevin's glass and drank it in one gulp before slipping off his lap and taking a few steps back. Your heart began to beat like crazy, but you gathered all your courage, ignored the lustful looks from the other guests and Kevin and started moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music.

That was also the moment when Ben finally noticed you. He sipped his whiskey, licked his lips, and watched you from his spot at the bar. He ignored the two women who were still dancing for him. His attention was solely on you. "Uhh, someone's getting really hard", the blonde moaned in his ear while her colleague stroked up and down Ben's upper arm. While your eyes were on Kevin, Ben was looking at his crotch. “Shit”, he growled, pushing both women away with a jerk.

Meanwhile, Kevin didn't hesitate anymore, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap with a strong tug before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours, which was absolutely not the plan. You should only distract the Deep long enough for Ben to put something in his drink at the bar.

When Ben saw the Deep stick his tongue down your throat, anger overwhelmed him. Within seconds, he ripped you away, pushed you onto the sofa and grabbed the Deep by the collar of his supe suit. Kevin didn't know what was going on and could hardly say a word. “Ben! What are you doing?", you shouted at him as all the other customers stormed out of the bar one by one. “This son of a bitch is fucking disgusting. A worthless piece of shit. I should rip his head off here and now”, Ben hissed.

“Ben, stick to the damn plan”, you admonished him, slowly lifting yourself up. Ben's eyes darkened with anger.

“You better listen to your little friend”, Kevin gasped, trying to save his own dear life.

"You'd better keep your damn mouth shut, fuckface". Ben let go for a split second before sticking his large hand through Kevin's supe suit into his gills, lifting him up and shushing him.

“Ben! we can't kill him! Ben… Please.” While the Deep was panting in pain, Ben finally looked at you.

"You're going to let that fucker rub his cock on you, but make a fucking scene when I kiss you?!".

In the middle of his sentence, Ben's mood changed from angry to stunned to angry again.

Very angry.

Ben's suit-covered chest began to glow and his hand relaxed, which Deep used to escape. “Shit, shit, shit!”, you gasped. “Ben, stop!”, you tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Knowing that you had absolutely no chance of getting out of here alive if you stayed, you ran towards the exit as fast as you could. You ran for your life. Seconds later you heard a loud bang and everything around you went dark.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #the deep #the boys fanart #the boys amazon #the boys tv #spn #ackles

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xmultifandomsx · 7 months ago

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jason can't use autocorrect anymore

Picture this: Jason having disabled autocorrect on all his electronics. Normally, it doesn't matter. Jason's vocabulary is spectacular and so is his spelling, it's one of those things he's always prided himself on. No one could ever tell he was from Crime Alley just looking at his essays. However, he's not perfect and sometimes it's hard to type in blood-soaked leather gloves so there's the occasional typo. It drives Bruce nuts, like really nuts. And every time he sends in a report with an accidental typo Bruce sends it back with the word highlighted in bright fucking yellow. It pisses him off to no end. So he complains about it to Dickie once after Bruce had just returned his 12 page report having highlighted 'Sucinylcholine' in yellow. Dick takes one look at it and asks, like an asshole, "Why don't you just turn on spellchecking?" Why don't you just meh meh meh, god he's such a wonder boy. And then that weasly, little snake snorts as he types away on the bat computer.

"Yeah," Drake giggles. "Why don't you?"

Jason can't help but grind his teeth, he knows exactly why. Drake is the reason he had to disable it in the first place, even if he can't prove it. It wasn't a coincidence that right after he and Tim had one of their blowout arguments, someone had changed the autocorrect on his phone so whenever he typed 'Bruce' or 'B' it changed to 'Dad' and if he typed 'Batman' it changed to 'Batdad' without his approval. And if that wasn't bad enough, they somehow managed to do the same thing on his laptop. And his burner phone. And his other burner phone. And you get the point. No matter how many times he tried to change his settings or buy new electronics the autocorrect issue remained. See, Jason isn't the most technologically advanced of his siblings but he could get by. Except when it came to smartphones, he was pretty useless when it came to the settings app on his phone. It wasn't his fault, when he died he still had a flip phone! So, try as he might he couldn't really fix it on his own and he was only slightly mortified to ask anyone else for help so he'd just turned off autocorrect and spellcheck in general.

"It doesn't matter," Jason muttered. "It's not my fault B is such a tightwad."

"I think you meant dad," the little shit giggles, taking off before Jason can reach the computer and strangle the asshole.

He fucking knew it!

(Cue Dick just staring after them confused but smiling bc his brothers are bonding)

#tim drake #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #robin #bruce wayne #jason todd is a little shit #tim drake is a menace #they 'hate' each other #time drake being a younger sibling but worse #yes he's also done this to damian

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maxknightley · 2 months ago

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i just don't understand how usa trans folks in my circles aren't afraid for their lives re: the election. i get it. biden has been shit, he's been the main contributor to a genocide. harris will likely be no different. i'm in no way thrilled with them or our establishment as a whole. but trump clearly spells a much, much worse reality for trans people in this country. not only does his supporters' platform outline the criminalization of transness, but they'll have full immunity to do it due to the supreme court decision. this isn't a worst case scenario to get people to vote blue, this is the reality of what trump actively wants to do. am i missing something? because i'd love to believe i'm the crazy one in this case

most of what you're describing has been happening on a state-by-state level. the biden administration has done next to nothing to meaningfully push back against it. even if you're going hard in the paint on voting, you would be better off focusing your efforts on state and municipal elections, where something good could at least conceivably happen

"supreme court justice" is a lifetime position. as such, the supreme court is still going to have a republican majority regardless of who gets elected come november. you could make the argument "oh but what if one of the justices dies within the next four years," except that the democratic establishment has repeatedly demonstrated that they have zero interest in actually securing a progressive majority in the judiciary, so I'm not especially convinced it would make a difference. mind you, the whole fucking institution is flagrantly antidemocratic regardless.

kamala harris is actively campaigning on Bipartisanship and Cooperation with the christofascists she's running against. oh sorry I mean the Moderate Anti-Trump Republicans, like dick cheney, who definitely wasn't part of multiple infamously reactionary presidential administrations within living memory. why should I believe for an instant that she'll fight for me?

I might be biased due to living in a blue state, but the fact of the matter is: after four years of Trump, my life was not materially worse. after four years of Biden, my life was not materially better. under such circumstances, how am I supposed to feel anything but nihilism and apathy about the presidential election?

This is definitely a factor of living in a blue state, but it would be a statistical miracle if my vote for president mattered even the slightest bit beyond "maybe the green party will get some government funding and that will have some kind of positive ripple effect"

as someone who remembers the Bush administration I speak from experience when I say the republicans are constantly proposing hideous, inane social policies that end up dying in committee. that's not to say we should let down our guard, only that "if trump is re-elected he will immediately institute a dictatorship and all trans people will be hanged on the spot" is not actually a sure thing by any means.

I am a petty, angry person, and when people try to browbeat me into doing something - especially something that strikes me as pointless - it makes me less likely to do it.

tl;dr it's going to be bad either way; meanwhile, voting for a cheerleader of genocide would disgust me enough on a personal level that I'm willing to get uncharacteristically Kantian about the whole affair.

call me when they return to the obama playbook of "at least pretending they will try to make things better"

#ask #anon

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oh-no-its-bird · 2 months ago

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For the Uchiha Houhua AU, how does he survive the massacre? I'm guessing either he uses his poison skills to fake his death or he does the 'actually I was a prodigy all along' thing in front of Itachi. Itachi spends the next several years being driven a little insane by finding this out about his old friend.

Also does Houhua incarnate as a baby? Because if so he was probably old enough to babysat by Obito. I feel like you could do something interesting with that.

On that note his relationship with kakashi. Like that's his little brother figures sensei, and he was a shizun in his last life, he knows what it is to be a good teacher and kakashi in the early series is not that. If he also knew Obito and knows that that's his eye in kakashi's head? Oof.

How much of the Uchiha eye thing does he get? Does he have his sharingan? Or the mangekyou?

Also, wasn't it cannon that part of the reason why danzo let Itachi let Sasuke live was because he was a moldable child? How does he feel about having a semi adult Uchiha still alive? I feel like Houhua is walking a constant tightrope of protecting himself and Sasuke and not being seen as a threat by the creepy old man.

THIS IS A WONDERFUL QUESTION!! I. Am not too sure, actually

I feel like it'd probably be him trying to fight back maybe? Faking his death absolutely sounds like the shit hed do tho, so hmm might put that in his back pocket too

Either way, Houhua vs Itachi 1v1 where they're surprisingly well matched sounds really fun I cant lie.

Mmmm, maybe he can 1v1 Itachi and hold up surprisingly well? Itachi is doing the what is this, how are you doing this, have you been hiding yourself from me this whole time?! routine as Houhua goes fuck shit oh my god oh my god I cant believe that worked oh fuck--

Then Obito fucking teleports behind Houhua and stabs him. Oopsies!

Houhua somehow survives due to genuine luck, and gets a hint about there having been more than 1 person at the massacre maybe?

Idk if thatd work tho. Mmmm so many thoughts.

I do think that no matter what, Houhua would have to be "defeated" in some way. Play dead for a bit. If he comes out of the fight having visibly won, it'll spell problems and set dominos in motion I dont want dominoing just yet

So no matter what, he's ending the fight face down on the floor

ALSO THATS. SUCH A GOOD POINT ACTUALLY SHIT, DID OBITO HELP BABYSIT HIM?? Houhua did reincarnate as a baby, tho I think there was some soft mental block on him becoming truly conscious till he was at least around 5 years old. So by the time he was conscious at least, Obito was already gone. Rip!

I think that Kakashi wouldnt be immune to looking at Houhua and seeing the reflection of another cry baby ninja, though Houhua wouldn't have any real memory of Obito (tho he might have heard ab him before, with some clan members comparing them quietly when they think he's not listening)

Anyways I need a scene where Houhua and Obito meet once Houhua is older and Houhua straight up says "You know, I never did get why people thought we were anything alike" as a clear insult

Rare Houhua w !!

I think Houhua has an unusually difficult time manifesting anything w his eyes just bc of the emotional walls he has up between him and everyone around him. He does not allow himself to feel deeply for anyone enough for his eyes to be affected, no matter how fond he may grow of them. There is always a wall between him and the world.

I do also however think that no matter how hard he tries to distance himself from the people around him, even having known for years now that they'd all die this way, seeing the people who he was raised around all die to the hands of a boy he might have grown fond of--

Yeah.

Not even he's immune to that.

So when the massacre happens, he'll at least get his sharingan, tho idk how man tomoe (and I cant really remember what is needed to gain each tomoe, so, oops)

I do think he'd have an incredibly difficult time manifesting his mangekyou, for all the reasons above, so if he ever does it'd be way down the line.

I also think it'd be super fucking interesting (especially from an outsiders perspective) if he manifested it somehow due to MBJ's involvement, since his reincarnation is wandering around here somewhere as Jun, and does not remember Houhua

Houhua has no explanation for why he cares about this man deeply enough to manifest the mangekyou. Sorry.

Also, Im ngl, as I write this I can totally see an argument for something along the lines of "well Houhua went through a fuck ton of trauma as SQH, so what if when he regains his memories around 5, he automatically unlocks his sharingan just through that remembered trauma? Then just keeps it secret for years until the massacre"

I think that could be interesting tbh, it would also tell a story all on its own ab his grief for his past life and all the people there. Smthn to think ab, idk

Houhua is a bit too old and way too clever for Danzo's liking. hHis one only saving grace is that, on the surface at least, he's a fuckin worm of a boy and has literally no achievements other than having survived Itachi

He isn't worth getting rid of yet, but Danzo has an eye on him, just waiting for a reason to potentially knock him off.

Good think Houhua decided not to go the child prodigy route!! Putting his own flaws and weaknesses on blast to all of Konoha probably saved his fucking ass with Danzo. At least for now, anyways.

#naruto #svsss #birds fic talk #birds asks #shang quinghua #scum villain self saving system #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #obito uchiha #uchiha obito

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tr4gictea · 2 years ago

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OMG HIIII

its so hard finding writers that do xchild!reader or teen!reader

.·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

Can i request a sagau where the creator is a teenager?

How do you think the difference genshin characters would treatg them ?

Love yaaaa!

❥Masterlist

Summary: You land in Teyvat after trying to play your favorite game. After trying to keep your age a secret the dendritic archon somit he’s on you.

Tags: Mostly fluff, teen!reader, platonic

A/n: Thank you for the suggestion 0rah-s! :D This is kinda short but there will most likely be a part 2. There are definitely spelling mistakes in here, please let me know how i can improve pls. Love u all <3

Part 2

After a long day of school, (y/n) relaxed in their chair and powered up their PC to play their favorite game: Genshin Impact. But as they clicked on the icon of the cute mascot the icon’s color inverted. You only brushed off the glitch as a weird bug. When the window popped up it looked different then usual with the sky behind the floating pillars a scarlet red.

“Wtf… is my game glitching?” (y/n) thought to themself as they tried click the x in the corner of their window to close the screen. Key word ‘tried’. The window refused to close while the game started to build the door into teyvat. (Y/n) watched the screen as a blinding white light surrounded their vision until there was nothing.

………..

When you landed in Teyvat you none questioned you appearing as a teenager because it’s quite rude to ask someone their age. They will treat you as if you are an adult. But the truth will eventually come out but it wasn’t how you expected.

“Your grace, are you sure you can sign contracts?” Nahida asked as you while you were meeting with the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham and the Dendro Archon, Lesser lord Kussinal.

Shit. Nahida knew that you were 14. She looked in Irmensal the moment you arrived. “Yes I should be.” You said looking at her with eyes that said PLEASE DON’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY AGE PLEASE PLEASE.

But apparently she didn’t get the message “Well I only ask this because of your age.”

Alhaithem’s eyes shifted towards you and raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind me asking your Grace but how old are you exatctly?”

“...”

“No comment.”

“There Grace is 14!”

“Nahida!”

Alhaitham stair went blank and was most likely was forming a million questions in his head when he asked “Who else knows?”

“Just Nahida and now you too.” You gestured to the small archon than Alhaithem.

“Hm, I will inform the other leaders of this and Lesser Lord Kussinal will you please inform the other Archons of this matter.”

“Wait- What?!”

……………..

Day passed and you left Sumeru to visit people in Monstat. You were greeted with a parade of people waving and throwing gifts at you. After a little while the crowd dispersed and you saw a familiar green bard sitting on a statue of Barbatos.

“Ah! Your Grace!” Venti said as he got up from his spot sitting on the statue’s hands. He used his anemo abilities to float himself without hurting himself. “Or should I say my young Grace?” He said smirking

“What?”

“I take that back, it sounded cooler in my head.” Venti said as he slung his arm over your shoulder as you chuckled. “But, back on topic! YOUR 14?” Shouting the least part a little too loud catching the attention of a few bystanders.

“VENTI SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You whisper yelled at him as he chuckled. “And yes I am 14.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the bard asked with sincerity in his tone.

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be a little awkward and I didn’t know what would be the right time to do so.”

“Understandable, we all thought you were older than at least 30 from the way you act, but what about your family?”

“What do you mean? They’re probably back at my home living their life.”

“Not on your planet but here on teyvat, from what I can tell you have no single person to have as a parental fig-” You shove a hand in Venti’s face before he finish, knowing what he was going to say.

“No, absolutely not, I don’t need a ‘parental figure’ in my life telling me what to do.” You said putting air quotes up for parental figure. “And like you said I act older than I am.”

“That doesn't mean your still not a kid.”

“Doesn’t matter, point is that I don't need someone looking after me.”

……………..

Once (Y/n)’s finished their business in Mondstat she left for Liyue since the Lanturen Rite festival was about to take place. Little did they know that they would be met with the Liyue Qucixe.

Ganyu, Keqing, and Nigguang were standing right on the entrance of the harbor, when you came into view Ganyu was the first to run toward you. She grabbed your cheeks in her hands with a worried expression on her face.

“YOUR GRACE YOU’RE 14?!” She said slightly shaking you “WITH THE AMOUNT OF WORK YOU’VE BEEN DOING IT ISN’T GOOD FOR A CHILD!”

“Ganyu calm down, and let them go.”The bold voice of Ningguan said from behind Ganyu. She then turned to face you “Your Grace, it’s lovely to see you again.” She said with a smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again too.”

“If you would like to come with me I have reserved a spot at the Liuli Pavillion if you would like to join me for lunch.”

“Of Course, I would love to join you.”

Time skip d:

After a bit of talking and eating Ningguan cleared her throat and asked if she could have a serious talk with you about something.

“I have a feeling this is about my age.” You said while cleaning sauce off your mouth with a napkin.

“Yes your Grace,” Ningguan said “I’m afraid that’s the problem.

Part 2?

#Genshin Sagau #Genshin x teen reader #Genshin impact x reader #Genshin #genshin #Sagau #sagau headcanons #platonic genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader

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youling-the-ghost · 4 months ago

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sfth incorrect quotes pt.7 because I haven't made these in *checks notes* ALMOST A WEEK?!?!

Sam: My hands are cold. Luke: Here, let me hold them. Sam: My lips are cold too. Luke: *covers Sam's mouth with his hand* Luke: I wasn’t that drunk. AJ: You colored my face with a highlighter because you said I was important. Luke: BECAUSE YOU ARE! Tom: Mint is just cold spicy. The Squad: ... Sam: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

Tom: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Luke: They do. AJ: ...Why did you say that with such certainty? Luke: Don’t say a word. Sam: Fergalicious. Luke: Sam, I said no words. Sam: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you. Sam, to the Squad: The real secret to immortality? Not dying. You want to be immortal? Okay, that’s easy. Just don’t die. That’s it. Refuse to die. There you go. AJ: But how- Sam, ignoring him: "But how", you may ask. Well, easy. Just don’t do it. Refuse to. Say "no thanks". Luke: Am I a boy? Am I a girl? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down. (yes I'm continuing with the "Luke is an arsonist" bit) Sam: Look, Tom, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday. Luke: Fight me! AJ: Ha, look at your size! What are you gonna do, kick my ankle? *Later* Tom: Why is AJ crying? Sam: Luke kicked him really hard on the ankle. Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent. AJ: I choose to waive that right! AJ: *screams* Tom: Dude, I will never forgive Craigslist for banning me after I wrote a post seeking a sworn nemesis. Whoever reported that is obviously my nemesis but I was so pissed. Sam: Hey! Tom: What do you want? Sam: Remember what we were talking about yesterday? Tom: Nope. Tom: Be kind. Everyone is fighting their own battles. Luke: Why would I be kind? I will be brutal and relentless and ride into battle by their side! AJ & Luke: *"accidentally" set the kitchen on fire* AJ: We need an adult! Luke: AJ, you are an adult! AJ: We need an adultier adult! Get Tom! Tom: Sam, keep an eye on Luke today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched. Sam: Sure, I'd love to see Luke getting punched. Tom: Try again. Sam, sighing: I will try to stop Luke from getting punched. AJ: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car? Luke: Well we were driving and there was a deer in the road, so I said "Sam, deer!" AJ: ...And what did Sam do? Luke: ...He said "Yes, Honey?" (when gay chicken goes too far, but not in the way you were expecting) Sam: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt? Tom: Tom: Why are you eating dirt? Sam: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question. Luke: I hate Sam. Tom: Don’t say hate. That is a mean word. Luke: Fine, I LOATHE Sam. ("Sam is full of shit." - Luke Manning, Discord Q&A, 2024) Sam: There is no i in happyness... Tom: There is if you fucking spell it right. Luke: watching their house burn down Luke: Luke: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything. (I'm determined to make arsonist!Luke a reccuring joke) Tom: Go ahead, Sam. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry. AJ: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation. Sam: All right, AJ, that’s it, you’re grounded! I found a rap album hiding under your bed and it was the clean version. I didn’t raise you to be such a nerd! AJ: I’m not even your kid- ("I get my motherfricking baby back, baby back-") Sam: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Luke: Okay. Sam: And make out during the scary parts. Luke: Th- Luke: The scary parts. Luke: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Sam: You guys worried about Tom? AJ: Totally! Luke: Yeah, he called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?" Sam: And what'd you say? Luke: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno." AJ: Sam: He's lucky to have you as a friend. Some guy, to Luke: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! Luke: *proceeds to kick them in the shin and run away* Sam, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Luke cute or small.

#shoot from the hip #shoot from the hip incorrect quotes #I still don't know what compelled me to make luke an arsonist in these #luke manning #alexander jeremy #sam russell #tom mayo

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paingoes · 6 months ago

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Destroyer - Sea Changes

(Masterlist)

(Content: dissociation, fear, manhandling, conditioning, begging, threats of violence, objectification)

======================

Paris did come to deal with him, eventually. It couldn’t be avoided. But Delta found it strangely bearable. Fair. He knew Paris wasn’t hitting as hard as he could have, not as hard as he had a right to. He wasn’t yelling, either.

“Why the fuck would you put me in that situation?” He asked Delta, like he really wanted to know.

“I’m sorry,” Delta repeated, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-“

“Stop!” Paris grabbed his shirt, “Cool it.”

Delta was like a ragdoll. He offered no resistance at all. He shut up when Paris told him to. There was a strange, foggy look in his eyes. It was scary. In that moment, Paris didn’t even have to try.

The spell didn’t break. Not for a while, anyway. Delta eventually calmed down enough to stop seeing the experiments whenever he closed his eyes. Their creaky voices stopped ringing in his ears. But even after the comedown, he was different. He was needy. For someone like him, this could not manifest itself in ordinary ways. What he experienced was an inescapable desire to be forgiven.

==============

“C’mere,” Paris beckoned. He did so, immediately. Delta supposed not much had changed outwardly. He would’ve done it before too, but that was just following orders. Now, he felt differently. He did it because Paris wanted him to, because he wanted to be obedient, because he wanted Paris to approve.

Delta kneeled down beside him, closing one eye as Paris raked the side of his face, taking a handful of his hair. Not quite flinching away. Paris tightened his grip.

“Don’t be cute. Don’t think you’re safe just because I saved your ass this time. You’re not off the hook. I should make you wear chains the rest of your life for that little stunt. Tell me what you were doing,” He shook him a little.

“I’m sorry,” Delta repeated, “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m sorry-”

“God, you’re like a broken record,” Paris pushed him back, spinning in his desk chair.

“Sorry.” Delta winced, “I was just curious. I won’t do it again.”

“No fucking shit you won’t do it again!” Paris laughed, “Are you serious?”

“I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see it. I wasn’t doing anything.”

Paris grabbed his face again, studying him. Delta was telling the truth. They both knew it. He was too smart to attempt escape, all too aware of what would follow. Super-weapons don’t just walk off into the night without consequence. He’d never make it far.

“Okay then,” Paris released him. His voice was a little softer, “You know damn well you don’t have permission to access that, regardless. Stop taking advantage of my kindness. It’s not right.”

“I’m sorry. I know. Thank you. I’m sorry.” “Just shut up. If you think you can-” Paris froze. Delta had put his forehead to Paris’s knee, in an unmistakable gesture of supplication.

With a sigh, Paris placed a hand on top of Delta’s head, gently tousling his hair.

==============

If Paris had enjoyed what it was like when Delta was subservient to him, he was totally unprepared for the calamity that was Delta feeling indebted to him. The little fire in his eyes had gone out. He didn’t argue anymore. The change came on so suddenly that the prince didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t berate Delta for his defiance anymore, as had become habit. He realized mid-sentence that it wasn’t true. Delta was trying. Paris had gotten what he wanted, really. The lessons ceased. Delta didn’t look at him with resentment anymore, but what had replaced it was a kind of sick longing. What was Paris ever supposed to do with that?

Delta forgot what it was he needed to be forgiven for. It changed everyday. It didn’t matter. He wanted Paris to like him, to earn the mercy he was continuously being shown. Because Paris had stopped beating him, for the most part. He saw the long stretches without violence as a kind of benevolence. It made him want to do better. The cycle went on.

“It’s a good thing you’re behaving now,” Paris said. He was laying on his own bed, playing on his phone. Delta was kneeling on the floor. “Everyone found out about the breach. If they think I’m not dealing with it properly, they’re going to try and take matters into their own hands. You scare the fuck out of them. Can you look more penitent the next time we go out?”

Paris put the phone down, turning his head. He looked Delta over, then said flatly, “I should probably give you more visible marks.”

Delta didn’t react to this. Paris hadn’t expected him to. He’d been so quiet lately. Paris guessed he was happy about this? Another victory for Paris? Yay?

He still wouldn’t let Delta out of his sight, even with the sea change. Paris only ever dismissed him for training or for sleep. Despite or maybe because of Nezu’s advice, Paris brought Delta out on business much more frequently, showing off the psychic’s intact limbs and unquestioning obedience.

Delta knew he was being flaunted, but he didn’t mind it so much. It was only in public that Delta truly felt Paris was on his side. As if Paris’s anger at the world, for a moment, did not extend to him. He began to think of himself as an extension of the true Empire, the one that would prove itself indomitable. He needed to believe this. It was the only answer that made sense anymore.

~~~

Tags: @catnykit @indigoviolet311 @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @defire @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump @pumpkin-spice-whump

#whump #whump scenario #whump community #whump prompt #living weapon whumpee #dehumanization #living weapon trope #dissociation #fear #manhandling #conditioning #begging #threats of violence #objectification #nooo delta dont internalize the imperial mythology ahahah youre so sexy

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fipindustries · 8 days ago

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things that trigger me to no end about board games

to be clear, these are not things that make a board game boring or tedious or hard to get into. these are thing that can genuenly make me angry or upset and make me want to flip the table in frustration

social games

i dont like it when games are dependant on you persuading other player or reading them or using theory of mind. i hate games that involve auction mechanics or trading based on barganing. i hate dealing with other people's wants and whims, i hate having to convince others, i hate being on the mercy of how good i am at being charismatic or persuasive with others. specially if the other players are in adversarial position with me. now, weirdly enough i dont mind hidden roles because that is kind of the whole point of the game, you are kind of doing nothing BUT try to guess the intentions of your opponent, but you dont have to CONVINCE THEM to work with you, unless you are explicitly lying, which you are generally not allowed to do in other games where you do trade or alliances.

2. not being able to do stuff

if it becomes my turn and there are little to no significant or useful actions i can take to advance my game state then i immediatly hate the game. youre telling me i had to wait an entire round for me to be able to do something and i cant do shit and now i have to wait a whole other round twiddling my thumbs while all the other players are getting ahead of me? bullshit. this is particularly egregious if this is based on RNG. sorry you drew a shit card or you got a shit roll of the dice so you basically dont get to play the game this round! should have prayed to god more, i guess

3. other players fucking with me by taking options away from my turn

this is basically the previous one except instead of RNG its caused by the specific strategy of the players i failed to persuade not to fuck me over. if i sat down at this table to play a game with you it feels like a mayor dick move if you dont let me play the fucking game. SPECIALLY if i didnt do anything to you first. i generally go into these games with a "live and let live, we can all get along" mentality, and i get very upset when im attacked unprovoked. im ok with games that are one on one. like if in a game of chess my opponent eats my queen then whatever, that is the nature of the game, im trying to eat THEIR queen so fair game, i have a bunch of other pieces and moves to take. but if you are like taking my cards away in catan and now its my turn and i cant build or do shit because the dice rolled such that i didnt generate any resource and now i cant play the game fuck you. but also, i just dont like it when players fuck with me in general. my ideal game is one where we all do our own thing and is just a matter of who did their thing the best by the end of the game.

3.b everyone ganging up

this is particularly egregious if its not one player but everyone collectively doing it. i understand the strategic inevitability of it if im winning and i dont blame the players for doing it. this is just a me problem but i have deep seated psychological issues with feeling ganged up on or bullied by everyone around me. if player after player keeps screwing me over is really really really hard for me not to take it personal and feel like my companions think less of me. this is just me being way too sensitive though.

4. lack of delineated turns

there are some games where you play "in real time" and winning is a matter of who can drop a card faster. i dont have a problem with games like ghost blitz when that is the whole point of the game, but in games like invocation frontier or whatever where you are basically playing yu gi oh without turns and is all about who can remember what spells they have ready and who can deploy them fastest or whatever the fuck, i hate that, i hate strategizing on the run, i hate responding to dynamic threats, i hate having to think and be fast at the same time, big reason why i could never get into RTS as a kid.

5. extreme fairness balance

this is again a me problem and is overall probably for the best if a game does this. there is nothing worse than something like monopoly where its obvious a player has very clearly won and there is no changing that but the game is not officially over until like five more rounds. still if i am this fucking close to winning and i know that at any second a player can pull some bullshit out of their hat that drops me to last place i just cannot enjoy myself, i am far too stressed out over the posibility that, no matter how close i am from winning, it could all be snatched away in a second due to reasons out of my control. the feeling just gets worse and worse the closest i am of winning to the point that even winning might not feel satisfying because im left with the vague impression it was pure chance that a player didnt get something to stop me.

thats all i can think of for now, if i can think of other things ill add them to the list

#board games #feel free to add your own triggers

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sophierequests · 2 years ago

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The f!reader x Nikolai fic including Vasily was gorgeous! I just found it and wow - perfection. Absolutely jaw dropping.

Could I get a follow up fic about Nikolai's recovery? Maybe there are some after effects of the poison and he's struggling to get better. He's back at the Grand Palace but the fever, pain and dizziness keep plaguing him and he's having a hard time dealing with being so weak and feeling sick. Besides the wound on his chest hasn't healed either yet...

Basically reader being cute af and taking care of sick Nikolai (maybe also Vasily being a little but caring shit lmao)

bring me back to life // in the bright lilac light part two

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x f!Reader

A/N: This is part two to my 'Violet Rot' fic, so please check that out before you proceed with this one. Otherwise, you probably won't understand some of the references and the general set-up. I did not expect that anyone would want a part two to this particular fanfic, but I'm very glad you asked! Taking care of a sick Nikolai is very dear to my heart <3 Now I just have to wait for someone requesting a part three with the wedding djhalhldhja Thank you for requesting this, I hope I managed to live up to your expectations <3

You can find part one here!

Summary: Recovery is hard and there is nothing one can do to speed it up - very much to Nikolai's dismay.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, very much Fluff

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, injuries and Vasily

"Why does he still look like he's standing on death's doorstep?" Vasily whispered to you as he looked down on his very sickly-appearing brother, who was supposed to have recovered from his injuries by now.

"Try getting stabbed with a poisoned blade and we'll see how you look after barely a week of being home," you replied, letting a comforting hand run through Nikolai's golden hair, carefully removing the wet strands that stuck to his fever-stricken forehead.

"I'm sure I'd at least have a little bit more…colour on my cheeks. That's all. He looks terrible," the prince mumbled almost childishly.

"I'm not unconscious, Vasily. I can hear you. Loud and clear for that matter. And it's not really aiding my headache," your fiancé rasped out, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"I think it would be best if we'd give him a bit of space. Some peace would very likely do him some good," you sighed as you filled up another glass of water to at least keep him hydrated, putting it beside his bed and attempting to stand up.

"Stay, please." You felt his hand tightening around your wrist, his grip hardly firm enough to pull your hand towards him.

"I'll take that as my sign to leave." Vasily gave you a courteous nod before sauntering to the door. "Don't die while I'm gone, brother. I'd hate to be the one having to break the news to mother."

"Don't get blackout drunk. I'd hate to be the one having to tell Nikolai about you vomiting into one of the plant pots again," you called after him, earning a faint chuckle from the man next to you and an offended grunt from his brother.

You turned back to Nikolai, watching him struggle as he attempted to sit up. The wound on his chest was still an oozing mess that just didn't want to heal properly. He could barely move his torso to complete the most basic tasks, and it infuriated him deeply. The additional fever and dizzy spells didn't improve his already low spirits.

"I hate to admit it, but our pompous little prince is right. You do look terrible, my love."

"Oh, so now you're taking his side?" he lamented dramatically, presumably putting all his energy into the act.

"Well, he is to be my future brother-in-law, after all. I must agree with him occasionally or else he might think badly of me. And who would want that?" you mused with highly sarcastic undertones.

"And I'm your future husband, does that not have any merit in the matter?"

"You're right. I should marry Vasily instead. Just to not commit any sort of treason by periodically opposing my beloved." Nikolai's gaze shot towards you, shock and a slight hint of disgust in his eyes.

"Don't you dare even think about that," he griped, fiddling with the delicate engagement ring on your finger.

It was a habit he had picked up ever since he had proposed to you. Whenever nervousness or stress overtook him, he'd reach out to take your hand into his, mindlessly twisting and turning the golden band. On the rare occasion that you weren't around, he would do the same with his own. It just wasn't as comforting.

"I would never," you snorted. "I do have standards. Even though I had to tweak them quite a bit to consent to marrying you."

Instead of giving you one of his snarky comebacks, he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go of it. His free hand reached for the glass of water on the side table next to him, but he was too weak to properly hold on to it, causing it to shake heavily. You quickly snatched it out of his hand, earning a dissatisfied glare from the young Lantsov.

"Love, I can-"

"Your hands are shaking like reeds in the wind, darling. As much as I would love to see you do all these things by yourself again, you can't right now. And that's okay. I'll take care of you until then," you assured.

"It's just so…frustrating," he let out a huffed breath, visibly overwhelmed by the whole situation.

He wanted nothing more than to just feel like his old self again. It infuriated him how weak he was. The pain should have gotten better by now, yet he still felt like a frail porcelain doll that threatened to break every time it left the shelf. And as much as he appreciated you taking care of him, he couldn't shake off the feeling of being useless.

"I know," you sighed, letting your eyes trail down to the bandage covering his chest. "But the more pressure you put yourself under, the longer it'll take for you to get better."

Nikolai turned his head to the side, not wanting you to see his face in case he wasn't able to keep the tears from falling. You seeing him cry would only humiliate him more, he thought.

"Nikolai." You cupped his cheek with one hand, pulling his face back to look at you. He hated that you knew him well enough to realise what was going on inside his head. "Don't be so hard on yourself. We're all so relieved that you're alive - even Vasily. No one expects you to do anything other than recover. No matter how long that might take. Please get some rest and let me help you."

"You shouldn't have to take care of me," he breathed out. "You shouldn't have to worry about my health or whether I will make it through the night. I'm so sorry for putting you through all of this."

"I'm not doing this because I have to, Nikolai. I'm doing this because I want to. Taking care of you isn't burdensome. Not to me." He closed his eyes as your thumb began to trace circles over the slight ridge of his cheekbone. "We're engaged - soon to be married. One of the conditions for that is to be there for the other. In sickness and in health. We may have not exchanged our vows yet, but that doesn't matter. I love you too much to watch you wither away like this. Let me do this for you."

"Thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Now, drink something and then try to sleep for a bit. I still have some correspondence to take care of, but it won't take too long. I'll come back as soon as I'm done. Send for me in case you need me. " He only nodded in response, too tired to say or do much more.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before you left his bedroom. Of course, you would have preferred staying with him, even if it was just to watch him sleep. However, you still had a few duties of your own to fulfil and you couldn’t shove them away forever. You couldn’t allow yourself another misstep after lying to your parents about your whereabouts, that was for sure.

After close to two hours spent with measly paperwork and bureaucratic duties, your focus was pried away from the neatly stacked documents on your desk by muffled bickering in the hallway outside your door. You took a quick look at your pocket watch, concluding that it was definitely way too late for your parents to still be out and about.

A bit hesitantly, you abandoned your previous occupation, carefully tiptoeing towards the corridor where the noise had to come from. The scene you had to witness almost gave you a heart attack.

Vasily stood in the middle of the hall, his normally pristine white shirt dirtied with bloodstains. He was hunched over, hovering close to another person that sat on the hard marble floor, their back pressed against the wall. When you noticed that said person was none other than your fiancé - blood smeared all over his hand and shirt, a dazed look on his face - you immediately sprung into action.

“Vasily?” You directed your question at the more alert-looking Lantsov. “By the Saints, what happened?”

“Fuck, if I only knew!” he replied, his stern features relaxing as you approached the two of them. “I was just about to retire to my chambers after a hard day of-”

“Day drinking? You reek of kvas, Vasily,” you muttered under your breath, poignantly ignoring the scowl he gave you.

“As I said, I was about to make my way back to my chambers until I saw this fool lying on the floor with blood everywhere. I thought he was dying! I tried to get him back to his own bedroom, but I can’t possibly carry him back there on my own. Especially not with all that carnage on him.” You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, crouching down next to his brother to assess whatever was going on.

“Nikolai,” you said his name once, your hand finding his face like it had a few hours earlier. His eyes were open, but he seemed to be somewhat loopy. “Love, are you alright?”

“Yes,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his bloody hand clutching the wound on his chest as he tried to sit up straight. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you warned, looking at the quite deep cut that ran across his arm and hand. “Do you think you can walk back to your room? With our help, of course.” Vasily scoffed, but you didn’t let that bother you. “I have to take a look at that. You don’t need another injury that runs the risk of developing an infection.”

He wanted to say yes, but when another jolt of pain shot through his body, you knew that you couldn’t let that happen.

“That’s a no. Vasily, I will need your help to carry him to my bedroom. It’s right around the corner and we won’t risk having any of his wounds reopen.”

Even though the prince gave you a sharp look of dismay, he followed your bidding. Slowly, he bent down to his brother, slinging an arm around his middle to awkwardly force him to stand. Nikolai tried everything in his power to get both of his feet on the ground. However, he could only hold his weight for a few seconds before his knees threatened to give in. Vasily had to stifle a gag when he felt the wet blood dripping on his skin and staining his clothes. If you hadn’t been so worried about the state of your boyfriend you would have probably found his reaction pretty amusing.

“Are you certain that you want this biological hazard to be brought to your chambers?” he asked, turning up his nose when his brother let out a low grunt. “Wouldn’t it be preferable to bring him to a Healer? You know, like a person that is specifically trained to treat wounds like this?”

“No Healer, please,” Nikolai panted, tightening his hold on Vasily’s shoulder.

Both of you knew that he wasn’t too fond of Healers. It was not like he disliked or opposed them, but after seeing what people like them were used for in the Second Army. He had seen what they could fix, but he had also seen what they could destroy.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it. As much as I have seen, it’s nothing life-threatening. And even if it were, we all know that I have some experience in treating life-threatening injuries by now.” You flashed Vasily a cocky grin, reminding him of the threat on his life you made should he ever even do so much as think about telling anyone about what he saw in that medical tent.

“If you insist,” he mumbled, taking steady steps towards your room.

Once you finally reached the safety of your chambers, you ordered him to set him down in one of the armchairs next to your vanity - bloodstains be damned. Nikolai groaned as soon as his brother let go of him, his back hitting the braided wicker quite harshly.

“Uhm, I’ll go and…clean myself up now. Especially before mother sees this,” Vasily declared, his gaze staying on his little brother for a bit longer before he turned to leave. “You know where to find me in case you need any help hiding the body. Or whatever issue you might need help with.”

“Thank you, Vasily.” No matter how often this man had infuriated and annoyed you before, you couldn’t help but appreciate his unexpected acts of kindness when you needed them most. Even with his unnecessary commentary. “I think I can handle him for the night. But thank you nonetheless.”

With an acknowledging nod, he exited the room, leaving you alone to deal with a bleeding Nikolai.

“First things first, I’ll need to get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” you explained, hurrying towards the bathroom to grab a wet rag and all the other medical supplies you were sure to need.

Since you couldn’t have been sure whether the bloodstains on his shirt were from the fresh wound on his arm or the stab wound on his chest, you decided that his shirt had to go - it was ruined anyway, so what was the harm?

“Darling, shouldn’t we get married before consummating said marriage?” your fiancé joked, looking down at you as you unbuttoned his shirt.

“Kolya, this is not the time,” you rebutted light-heartedly, pulling the ruined shirt off his shoulders and allowing him to do the rest.

With rather unsteady hands, you tried to clean all of the remaining blood off his torso and arms, seeing that the wound on his hand wasn’t too drastic after all. He didn’t fuss when you tossed the dirty rag, replacing the warm feeling of the wet fabric with the cool sting of the numbing cream. The relief on his face was evident in an instant.

As you put a bandage around his arm and hand, you felt his gaze fixating on you, not leaving your form, not even when you left his side to clean out the piece of cloth and stash away your medical supplies. You couldn’t help but think about his nickname ‘sobachka’. He hated that nickname, but in moments like these, it rang more true than ever. He really was a lost little puppy sometimes.

“Are you alright, Nikolai?” you asked softly, stealing a brief glance at the bandage wrapped around his torso, which he detested with a burning passion.

“I am now. Thank you, my love,” he sighed, letting his gaze waiver towards the clunky bandage on his arm.

“Do you mind telling me what caused you to drag yourself outside of your room with a bleeding wound? How did you even manage that?”

“I was thirsty,” he began, the façade of the confident prince slipping, revealing a meek little boy that had to talk about something he really didn’t want to. “I couldn’t hold onto the glass and it shattered on the floor. And since I didn’t want to have someone else remove it, I tried cleaning it up. Well, let’s just say it didn’t turn out how it was supposed to.”

“And why didn’t you call for me, honey?” you sighed, retrieving one of his spare shirts from your dresser, not wanting him to get even sicker from the cool evening breeze that filtered in through your open windows.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see me like…this.”

“So you opted for stumbling through half of the Grand Palace looking like you had just murdered someone instead?”

“When you put it like that it sounds a lot less logical than I had imagined it.” Now you could see how he and Vasily were related.

“You were really lucky that your brother’s drinking habit forces him to be out this late. I don’t even want to imagine how long you would have stayed outside if he hadn’t found you.”

“We should probably call him again to help with getting me back to my chambers,” he fretted, dreading having to rely on Vasily’s help again.

“Absolutely not. You’re staying here for the night. I’m not letting you out of my eyesight tonight. Not after this stunt,” you declared, grinning at the befuddled expression on his face.

“We’re sleeping in the same bed? Before we’re actually married? Scandalous.”

“Choose your words wisely, or else I might let you sleep on the floor.”

“You would let a poor injured man sleep on the cold, hard floor? That’s pretty heartless.”

“Maybe I should genuinely reconsider marrying you if that’s how you see me. I heard Vasily is still looking for a wife,” you sneered, throwing him the shirt and watching while he put it on.

“Tough luck. You’d have to compete with his love for whiskey and horses first, and I have a sneaking suspicion of which one of you would win that scrabble.” You let out a faint laugh at that, shaking your head as you moved closer to him.

“Alright, enough slander for the day. Let’s get your stubborn ass to bed.” You offered him your arm, supporting him steadily before you cautiously manoeuvred him towards your bed. He was very unsteady on his feet, heavily relying on you to keep him standing, but you were glad that his knees didn’t threaten to buckle this time.

Slowly, you let him sit on the bed, lifting the duvet for him to crawl under. You were very careful when you slid in next to him. Even though you didn’t want to treat him like he might turn to dust as soon as someone touched him, you still had to be cautious to not accidentally hurt him.

A part of your worry subsided when he opened his arms, beckoning you to come closer to him. He may be a bit weaker than what he was used to, but his neediness was still on the same level as it was before. So with a hint of hesitance, you scooted closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

His arms were still wrapped around your waist when you woke up the next morning. The sun that filtered through the window bathed both of you in a warm golden light that made wanting to get up even more difficult than you had expected. You couldn’t even begin to describe how much the thought of waking up like this for the rest of your life excited you.

You placed a gentle kiss on the sharp line of his jaw, tracing your arm along his arms before slipping out of his grasp. You had expected him to wake up after feeling you kiss him, however, he remained laying in bed like a wet sack of flour. For a moment you panicked, fearing that something might have been wrong with him. But when you intended to reach for his wrist in an attempt to check his pulse, a sonorant snore left his mouth. Perhaps he really just needed a long good night’s sleep.

He only showed any sort of life when you re-entered the bedroom after you had changed. His snores had seized completely now, replaced with his soft breathy chuckle as he watched you parade around your room.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you laughed, seeing him sit up slowly. You were glad to see that he looked a whole lot better than yesterday. “You slept well, I assume?”

“How could I not? I slept next to you, after all.” His hazel eyes glistened in the light, resembling two pieces of true amber. “I can’t recall the last time I had a dream this pleasant.”

“What did you dream of?”

“I dreamt of a life with you in it.” His honesty made you freeze for a second. He was quite the piece of work. One second he had you fearing for his life, and the next he made your heart skip a beat because of how utterly besotted with you he was.

“I’m already in your life, Kolya. And I’m not intending to leave it anytime soon.” You walked over to your bed to press a faint kiss to his cheek. As a reminder that you would always be here.

“If I get bet-”

“When. When you get better,” you corrected, reaching for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly.

“When I get better, we should look into moving the wedding forward. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“So eager to marry me now, aren’t we?” you laughed, letting out a high-pitched squeak when he pulled you towards him. “Nikolai, be careful!”

“Oh, love, I’ve been eager to marry you ever since the day I proposed to you.” He peppered your cheeks with kisses, forcing you to giggle like a young schoolgirl. Every single etiquette lesson you ever had the joy of attending flew right out of the window while your fiancé continued to make you laugh and wiggle erratically.

“I suppose I’ll have to agree to that.”

This was the life you wanted to have.

Nikolai had opted to stay in your chambers for a few days longer. This way, you would be able to get to him quicker, he reasoned. And obviously, you weren’t one to deny him. Staying with you seemingly helped him in his recovery, and it helped you in calming your nerves.

You could the colour return to his cheeks again, the longer he rested and let himself be taken care of. He was still weaker than he had anticipated, but he could do most of the minor self-care tasks himself. He could hold a glass, eat, and even managed to get himself to the bathroom without any sort of support. Even though that felt like a minuscule step to him, you were more than proud of him.

One week after he started sleeping in your room, he made you feel even prouder.

It had been such a long and tiring day of working through the piles of documents and correspondence that you could quite literally feel your body gravitating towards the floor. A quick glimpse at the clock told you that Nikolai was probably already waiting for you to come back. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you at all today - you had been with him for breakfast, lunch and dinner - but he still managed to pump up his theatrics and act like you had abandoned him for years. His penchant for overdramatisation didn’t help you with stowing away all your paperwork.

You pulled yourself to your feet, arranging and sorting all the different stacks you had created, before you put them in their respective cabinets surrounding your table. You had been so focused on your work that you didn’t hear the door behind you clicking shut, and someone approaching you very slowly.

A pair of firm arms wrapped around your middle from behind, someone’s head now resting on your shoulder. You were close to whacking whoever it was with the not particularly heavy paperweight, but when a gentle kiss was pressed to the column of your throat, you rethought that intention. Nikolai let out a muffled hum, his body flush with yours as you sunk into his touch. You didn’t begin to process the semantics of his presence until you noticed him sway backwards ever so slightly.

“Wait, Nikolai?” You wiggled yourself out of his grasp, your hands still resting on his in case he needed to steady himself. When you turned, you saw the smug-looking prince glance at you like he had just been caught red-handed in doing something he shouldn’t.

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked, sounding almost offended.

“How did you get here?” You waved off his question, letting your eyes wander towards the door in an attempt to check for someone who could have helped him get here. The walk from your bedroom to the waiting room wasn’t long, but it was definitely longer than the walk to your bedroom.

“How do you expect me to get here?” He smiled at you, waiting for you to finally understand what this statement implied.

You raised a quizzical brow, not really following what he was trying to tell you.

“Since my horse didn’t fit through your door frame I had to take it upon myself to walk over to you,” he explained, watching the realisation spread over your face.

“You walked over here by yourself?” you beamed, unable to contain your excitement. “Kolya, that’s so good! I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d get better soon. Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do y-”

He silenced you by pressing his lips onto yours, abruptly ending your ramblings with a smile on his face.

“I’m fine. A bit sore, but fine.” He kissed your forehead once more. “It’s late. I was wondering why you didn’t come to bed. Apparently, my terribly worrisome heart and undying love for you was enough of a reason for my body to eventually listen to me again.”

“Admit it, your main objective is to push our wedding date forward,” you laughed, looking up at him to see him smile sheepishly.

“I see, you have revealed one of my most well-guarded secrets,” Nikolai bemoaned with a fake scowl.

“If that is one of your most well-guarded secrets, I can’t even begin to imagine what the other end of that spectrum loo-" He kissed you again, uncaring of whatever sarcastic comment you might have to offer.

"Y/N!" The door to your office was slammed open. "Nikolai is not in his or your b-" Vasily stopped dead in his tracks, seeing his brother and fiancée look at him amusedly after you had just visibly been making out.

Both of you watched as a shade of deep red shot into his face as he noted the mistake he made by not knocking.

"Forgive me, I'll leave you to it."

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Nikolai Lantsov: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaye-here @maximoffgxrl @lastwandastan

#nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #netflix shadow and bone #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse #grishaverse fanfic

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twstfanblog · 1 year ago

Text

*~It's Okay~*

AN: Well this took me a while. And it's because I started writing Diasomnia almost immediately and that's already half done before I even managed to finish this part XD So that should be done in the coming few days!

Word Count: 5.9K

Warnings: Talk of mental illness. Brief Creepy Neige. Swears. She/They Yuu OC.

Pairings: Alluded to Riddle/Floyd

Enjoy~!

Starter, Part 1(Pomefiore), Part 2 (Here), Part 3 (Diasomnia)

Riddle lived his life by a guideline of very strict rules. Rules he’s learned to live with since he was a child, no matter how they made his insides clench or how unfair they seemed. He learned to deal with the growing loneliness, the growing anger at and from himself, how hard it was for Trey to even talk to him some days…the nights where he could only just cry himself to sleep and wake up the next day to do it all over again.

He’s also learned to make amendments to those rules (Sure it took a mental and emotional breakdown, but he learned to compromise). Little gaps in the guidelines that he’s had to extensively think over to make them more ‘fair’ without making the rule obsolete. Cater told him with the new system, Riddle still ruled with an iron fist, but the hold wasn’t as much of a death sentence as before. And Riddle wondered just how far he had slipped into tyrannical madness to realize only then how good that made him feel.

Things were better in Heartslaybul, rules were rules of course. But, sometimes people preferred honey over sugar cubes, and that was okay. Some rules were flexible and it was okay to bend them if it kept his dorm from cracking like an egg. Riddle could learn to bend a bit more and he had.

But one thing he refused to allow was someone in the bed with him whom he didn’t invite. It wasn’t even a rule, simply a preference, but it was a very strong preference. It was enough to put Floyd Leech on his ‘shit list’ since their first year together (The EelMer still hadn’t explained why he was not only in his bed but how the hell he broke into their dorm after hours). He simply did not like waking up to some unknown person being under the sheets with him. It directly ruined the experience of waking up if he panicked the second he did it.

So ripping the sheets away from the body next to him in panic, he could only sigh and pull a face at the beastman next to him. Chenya gave him just as dirty a look, hair messier than normal and only half-dressed. Riddle glared at the cat beastmen before grabbing his pillow and slamming it on his half-awake friend, “When?”

Chenya huffed, a yawn almost slipping into a growl when he closed his mouth. He rolled over, grabbing the pillow from Riddle’s hands and snuggling into it, “Around midnight…Neige got back really late and by the Seven, I wasn’t dealing with it…”

Roommate discourse, a common reason for Chenya to abscond from Royal Sword. Riddle would allow only this once, like he’s allowed it ‘only once’ over a hundred times before.

He yawns, moving himself off the bed and gathering up his outfit for the day. Glancing back at the bed he raised an eyebrow, “Do you have your medication or do I need Trey to bring your emergency ones?”

“...Shit, knew I forgot something…”

Riddle sighed and shook his head, walking toward his ensuite, ��My phone is on the bedside table, just text Trey and he’ll bring them up with some food. Are you staying all day? The campus is open to visitors after all.”

Seeing how he wasn’t going to get more sleep, Chenya yawned and stretched, starfishing onto the bed, “Ok…I’ll see you and Trey at lunch for tea and talk. I got so much to rant about…” He barely notices Riddle’s nod before he reaches for the redhead’s phone, sending a quick message to his other friend. Chenya then curled into his friend’s blankets, not falling back asleep, but simply trying to stay present in the rose and paper-scented sheets.

Chenya wasn’t ever sure if getting his signature spell so young was a blessing or a curse. Disappearing seemed fun to the other kids, and it was. He loved popping in and out of view to scare people. But when he stopped being sure if he was even there, when he wasn’t sure if he was seeing something from a place he went to when he disappeared, it got scary. The doctor told his mom that his signature spell may have jump-started his supposed to be teenage psychosis. It was a hereditary trait in his family, ‘Pinker’s were a bunch of psychos’ his dad would joke.

But, because this was sadly a common trait in his family, he got support and help the second the doctor gave the diagnosis. He’s been taking medication ever since and he’s been very lucky to keep his daffy sanity. Sure, he still had moments where he wasn’t sure of where he was or what he was even hoping to do. But familiar things helped, so he covered himself in them. Every last stupid little trinket and patch he and Trey got from coin machines. All the plain black hair clips Riddle would toss out his window when he saw him walk by and his mother wasn’t watching him. Sure it looked silly, but he was silly and that was okay.

Chenya always had fun on the Night Raven campus. The second anyone saw him, it was like a primal switch flipped and they needed to try to kill him. It was hilarious disappearing and watching them run right by him. It was even more fun watching one of the first years he had seen last year with his family. The older guy with him may as well be a copy-and-paste but enlarged. They even made the same face when they yelled at him, pointing him out as a ‘Royal Sword Punk’. The woman with brown hair yelled at them, stating she raised them better than to point and yell in public, but they had already rilled up the surrounding students. Chenya laughed and disappeared around the corner, deciding he had enough fun with the students and slipped back into Heartslaybul via the mirror.

He kept up his spell, smiling at all of the excited students showing off the newly enlarged dorm to their family or friends. He even saw a stray Royal Sword classmate being toured around, oh he wondered if they were gonna get jumped by the end of the day. That’d be hilarious. Walking back into Riddle’s room, he snickers at the uniform hanging up neatly from the canopy frame. Chenya had no issue with wearing the same clothes twice in two days, but Riddle surely did and Trey never seemed too fond of it either. The Heartslabyul uniform would also keep anyone from chasing him, didn’t want to be late for tea after all. That’d be quite rude.

He hummed under his breath, fiddling with the half-painted rose on his lapel, sending a wink at one RSA student who recognized him and stared at him bewildered. Walking to the center of the rose maze, whistling a jaunty tune, perking up to see Trey and Riddle waiting with tea and sweets, “I meow-de it!”

Riddle huffed, glaring at Chenya and slipping Trey a single Madol bill. Trey smiled toward him, “Hey, Chenya. Feeling better from this morning?”

“...What was that?”

Trey chuckles, slipping the Madol into his wallet while Riddle grumbles into his tea, “Just a little bet I made with Riddle.”

“Well, forgive me for thinking he’d be able to hold back a pun for 5 minutes…”

Chenya sits down, joining Trey in laughing at Riddle, “That was a bad bet, Queenie. I need to pun to stray alive.” He holds his cup up as Riddle gestures to pour the tea for him, “So, status repurrt lads.”

Riddle groans, making peace with the incoming puns yet to be spoken, “Everyone seems very excited with the new changes, I was even able to get Crowley to update and expand the hedgehog and flamingo enclosures. Not to mention with the construction we were able to shift around the maze for a little variety come the school year. We’ve even sectioned off a part farther in the maze to grow flowers other than roses.”

“Huh…that explains how I nearly got lost…” Chenya waved Riddle’s worried glance off, grabbing one of the ‘Eat Me’ cookies, “But you told me all that already. You and Cater have kept me very up to date on everything going on since I wasn’t allowed to visit.”

Trey hummed, “In our defense. We were afraid you would get hit during construction trying to sneak in. Also, you and Cater talk?”

“Cater talks to everyone it seems.” Riddle mumbles, looking to the side with what Chenya could only call a pout.

“True…”

Chenya lets out a groan that slides into a yowl, “Come on! I wanna spill tea, not re-mew stuff you guys told me already.”

“Penelope had her litter. We haven’t told you that yet have we?”

“That’s not- wait, really?” Chenya was instantly invested, Penelope was one of his favorite hedgehogs. She was a delightful shade of plum and knew how to roll in a perfect spiral, “Please tell me one was purple.”

“Yep.” Trey cut at the strawberry tart, making sure Riddle was given the first piece as he preferred, “And her name is Mewple.”

Chenya squeals, drumming his hands against the table in excitement, “Please! Please, I gotta see the baby girl before I go!”

“Of course, Chenya. No need to yell, Riddle already named you godfather-”

“Don’t phrase it like that!”

“Aw~. Riddles~!”

Riddle glares at the beastman, cheeks flushing in a mixture of rage and embarrassment, “It’s merely the fact Crowley has given me permission to take a number of the hedgehogs when I graduate. It only makes sense I would bring my favorites…”

“You have favorites?” Trey questions, smiling teasingly at Riddle.

“...No.”

After a brief laugh session, Chenya leaned his upper body onto the table, ignoring Riddle huffing at him ‘breaking the rules’, ”But anyway, tea. How’s your boyfriend Riddle?”

“Floyd is not my boyfriend!”

“He didn’t say his name, Riddle.”

“Shush.”

Chechnya smiles, sipping at his tea, “Well, that answers cat. But I want mews! I want dirt! Tell me something I don’t know~.”

Riddle sighed, shaking his head while Trey thought to himself.

“Well, Riddle and Yuu almost got into another fistfight over tea…”

“I have never engaged in fisticuffs with that child and you know it, Trey. Plus that isn’t at all what happened.”

“Wait, why? Aren’t you two friends meow? I know she doesn’t like tea but you two spent like a whole week trying flavors out with Kalim, didn’t you?”

Trey snickers, “So about that, it happened after that week and during an unbirthday party…”

The garden had unsurprisingly been the first part of Heartslabyul that was fixed. It acted as a safe haven for the students during more construction noise and allowed them to have their unbirthday parties. At the main table, Yuu sat with the core Heartslabyul crew, quietly stirring their tea as the others chatted and Grim walked the table for treats and banter.

Deuce noticed their quiet nature, asking them if they were okay with a slight nudge under the table.

“...You know…I never really noticed that you make tea with hot water for a reason.”

…

Cater closes his eyes, putting his phone down and reaching over to put his hand over Yuu’s. He took a shuttering breath, as though to gather strength, “Yuu-Chan, sweetie…Have you been making tea with cold water?”

“Yeah? I always thought tea was made hot because it just made the water tea-ify faster.” She sips at the tea, making a face before adding another sugar cube to what could only be hot syrup at this point, “Didn’t think it was the proper process or something…”

Ace leans onto the table, staring at Yuu with a pinched face, “What, are you too impatient to microwave some water for three minutes?”

Yuu opened their mouth to remind him that they didn’t drink tea until it was their only option to drink. Instead, Trey put down his own cup of tea with a muted ‘Clack’, resting the bottom of his face in his clasped hands. The 3rd year looking at Ace with a level of intensity that made the 1st year sit back in his seat nervously.

Trey moved his hands to speak, just so he was heard clearly, “Ace…Why are you putting water in the microwave to boil it…for tea?”

Deuce holds up his hand, frowning with his eyebrows creased, “Clover-Senpai, I don’t think Ace has the patience to boil water on a stove.”

“Deuce-Chan. Water takes less than a minute to boil on a stove.” Cater turned away from Yuu, looking at his underclassmen, an expression of stunned surprise on his face.

Ace scoffs, “Is your stove the sun? How does it take less than a minute?”

Trey pulled his face from his hands, tilting his head to question Ace, “How long do you think water takes to boil?”

“Like Seven minutes!?”

“Look,” Deuce’s fist bangs on the table, drawing everyone’s attention before he addressed Ace, “Just put the mug on the stove on medium heat and it takes like two minutes to boil-”

“You’re putting the whole mug on the stove?”

“I mean sometimes I use a saucepan to do it…?”

Cater was struggling to hold in his laughter, face to the sky as he willed his tears to not ruin his newly gifted sponsored eyeshadow.

Trey looked at the two underclassmen, a hand over his mouth before he whispered under his breath, “How have you two survived this long?”

Cater wheezed, smacking a hand against Trey’s shoulder, “By the Seven, this is gold. I should have been recording…”

Riddle speaks, eyes wide in bewilderment at what he could only call the most frustrating conversation, “Do either of you know what a damn kettle is?”

Yuu sat back, a hand over their mouth to hide their smile as the table descended into madness.

Chechnya giggled, his own wide smile just barely hidden behind his cup, “Oh~. You’ve got your hands full with a bunch of uneducated kits, huh, Riddle?”

“I had to teach both of them how to use a proper kettle…”

“I mean in their defense, they had really good reasons why they never learned to use one…” Trey sighs.

“Mew?”

“Apparently, Ace put a teapot that was supposed to be for serving only on the stove to boil water and it exploded. Deuce’s mom forbade him from using a kettle when he was young because he managed to completely take apart their electric one…Guess he thought she meant every type of kettle.”

Riddle shakes his head, “Deuce still nearly broke our electric one by turning the dial too far.”

Trey laughs under his breath, “Well, at least they know how to make a proper cup now.”

“Ok, but why did mew and Yuu almost fight Riddle?”

“While Cater and I were trying to explain proper tea protocol to Ace and Deuce, Yuu apparently whispered to Riddle ‘This wouldn’t be an issue with coffee’.”

“They don’t even like coffee either! They just hate that I scold them for drowning their tea in cream and sugar!”

“Well, people can like their tea-”

“A simple lemon tea doesn’t need 6 lumps of sugar!”

A moment of silence passed over the table, Trey sighing and leaning back in his chair when Chenya started to snicker again.

“He’s got you there Trey~. Man, what I would give to have simple problems like you guys.”

“In what way-”

Riddle perks up, “Oh. That’s right,” His expression sombers, looking over to Chenya, “You said Neige came back and was acting strangely, more so than usual? Do you know why or would you rather not talk about him?”

“Oh by the SEVENS. I need to talk about this kid, I keep thinking I’m hallucinating half the stuff he does if I didn’t tell you guys about it.”

“So, he came back to your dorm room. What was the scenario?”

“So get this…”

Neige had been gone all day. That wasn’t anything weird or new to Chenya, Neige was usually gone for whole weekends doing model and actor business. This means Chenya either had the whole dorm suite to himself for a few blissful days. Or, Neige had lied and was going to stalk Vil Schoenheit and Chenya had to babysit the dwarves. True, they were capable of tending to themselves and even making meals unsupervised. The problem was most of them were painfully curious and just too short to be left alone.

And Chenya really didn’t mind looking out for them. It mainly was just grabbing things off high shelves so they didn’t climb each other and risk falling. Maybe having to give a few vocab definitions from their textbooks. But all in all, very cushy babysitting gig, since Neige both paid for the service and hush money.

But when 11 pm rolled around and Neige still wasn’t back, all of them were worried. The dwarves increasingly so. Chenya did his best but he was one cat-trophizing thought away from calling the police himself. Sure, Neige was some flavor of an obsessive stalker who could possibly pose a danger to the object of his affection. But what super fan wasn’t? It didn’t mean he wanted the guy to be in a ditch somewhere.

But, their metaphorical prayers were answered a little after 11 pm when Neige stumbled into the dorm room. His pink wig was nothing but a frizzy mess in his hands, his other arm braced against the closed door as he panted. He was coated in dirt, or what Chenya had hoped was dirt, clothing covered in various sweat marks and rips.

“By the seven Neige! Did you get hunted by a wild animal!?” Chenya rushed over, helping Neige to walk to his bed once he saw his roommate start to stumble, “Me-ouch…You’re a mess bud…”

Neige was panting, even when resting on the bed, managing to spare a shaky smile to calm the dwarves. He finally caught his breath, eyes slowly sliding into a thousand-yard stare, “I wish it was a wild animal…A wild animal would give up at some point. He chased me through the whole forest I think…”

Chenya looked over his shoulder, walking to the ensuite to grab their school-issued first aid kit, “Who?”

Brown eyes stared into the air, his breathing still lightly labored, “Green eyes…I can never look at green eyes ever again…”

Ok, he wasn’t going to unpack that. Kneeling on the bed, he looked over the kit. Once satisfied with the contents, he nodded and nudged Neige up from the mattress, “Go shower off all that…what I hope is mud. You reek and I gotta disinfect those cuts.”

Neige comes out from the bathroom 10 minutes later, sheepishly toweling his wet hair. He sat still, letting Chenya dab the rubbing alcohol against the open cuts. One being a long thin slice right along his cheek, as though Neige had just barely dodged something sharp at top speeds. Soon Neige was cleaned and medically tended to, his roommate was even nice enough to place cream on his skin so that it wouldn’t scar.

But, now that he was healed, Chenya and the dwarves all sat in front of him. Each of them glaring with folded arms, even Hop had a fierce frown on his face.

With a shaky laugh, Neige tilted his head, “I should explain huh?”

“You broke into Night Raven to see Vil.” Chenya wasn’t even going to beat around the bush, Neige came in looking like roadkill. His roomie was clearly out doing something to bring one of the Night Raven student’s ire. But even when Chenya was caught, he wasn’t roughed up nearly as much as Neige was. Maybe a ripped shirt, possibly a sprained ankle. Not whatever death match Neige got into with the forest floor.

“W-well, you do it all the time! And Vi is a good friend of mine, it shouldn’t be an issue to go visit him…”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you weren’t stalking him.” He ignores Neige shaking his head, trying to make him stop talking about his ‘activities’ in from of the dwarves. Chenya sighs, “I go there expecting to be hunted down and I can handle that. You want there like you were going on a date and come back looking like you got mauled.”

“Wish I was just mauled…”

Chenya would let Neige pass with that muttered comment. He really didn’t want to get involved in his weird going-ons, “Look, I was fine with all the time you’d take in the bathroom. But, I think you need to put the cat back in the bag and hang it up. This… ‘friendship’ you have with Vil is clearly gonna get you killed…”

Neige looked distressed, opening his mouth to plead with Chenya to not get anyone involved. Instead, the dwarves all jumped up, shouting their own disagreement about ending the relationship.

Doc stood on his chair, trying to meet Chenya in the eyes, “No! Vi and Neige need to keep being friends! How else will they be able to work toward their happily ever after!?”

“Neige has worked so hard to be where he is so he can stand by Vil’s side! To tear them apart is too cruel!” Hop wailed, holding up a nearly asleep Shelpie who could only tearily mutter ‘No, no, no’.

Chenya stood baffled as the Dwarves all gave their objections and then moved to crowd around Neige, shouting their support for Neige’s happily ever after. Stating how they always knew of Neige’s overzealous attempts to get closer to Vil, how they did their best whenever on set with him to make shoots longer by sabotaging equipment or erasing photos. How sweet they found Neige’s candle-lit altar with photos of Vil hidden under the floorboards, the one with an empty water bottle Vil had given him years ago on a movie set.

Tears of joy welled in Neige’s eyes. He dropped to his knees, bringing the dwarves into his arms and hugging them all tight, “Thank you guys so much! I never knew you supported me so much! Okay, no more secrets then, we’re gonna be a team and work together to get Vi’s love!”

The room was soon filled with multiple voices, plans of romantic outings and opportunities to ‘meet the family’. Chenya simply shook his head and walked to the door once Neige pulled out his phone to show off all the pictures he took in his infiltration, “Yeah, I’m leaving, don’t wait up.”

“Good night, Chenya! Thank you for hanging out with them!”

“What. Ever.”

“Well, to answer your question, it was Rook. Whatever happened to Neige was most likely Rook.” Trey laughs under his breath, pouring more tea for Riddle, “Even if he does like Neige, Rook is like an over-excited dog sometimes…And he’s robust enough to be a threat even when he’s placid.”

“I don’t understand how Vil hasn’t noticed he’s being stalked so heavily. One would think being near Rook so often he would be able to pinpoint anyone following him.”

Chenya groans, “I think that may be the reason he doesn’t notice Neige’s creepiness. I’ve only met that Rook guy once and he creeps Me-owt.” He sighs, leaning his chair on its back two legs, “I think being around something just makes you used to it. Like us and weird people.”

Trey laughed again, “I’m worse off then. I’ve been used to you guys since we were kids.” he blinked at the silence, looking at Chenya and Riddle. Both of them stared with blank faces, as though they were waiting for a punchline, “...Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Trey, how do I purr this…” Chenya folded his hands, resting his chin on them as he loudly hummed, showing he was thinking. He snapped his fingers, shooting double-finger guns at Trey, “You’re insanely weird, my friend.”

“I…I’m not the weird one!”

“Trey, you like teeth.”

“He’s right. Liking teeth is paw-sitively the weirdest thing, Trey.”

“Caring about my oral hygiene does not make me weirder than you two! What about Riddle’s need for rules? Chenya’s general thirst and need for chaos and discord?”

“I’m Traumatized. I get a pass to have an obsession.”

Chenya shakes his head, placing a hand over Riddle’s, “That’s not how that works, but I’m glad you’re admitting it.” He turns to Trey, his smile widening to his regular teasing expression, “And I don’t care for discord. Chaos sure, but I’m not the kinda cat whose vocation is disharmony.”

Rolling his eyes, Trey huffs, adjusting his glasses. He turned his head away, trying to hide his embarrassed flush, “There’s nothing wrong with caring about my dental health…”

Chenya snickered, leaning closer to Riddle to whisper in his ear, “Does he still use like four different brushes to clean his teeth?”

Riddle nods, whispering from behind his teacup. Grey eyes glancing at Trey as though to judge him, “He’s recently gotten acquainted with one of my equestrian club members. His father’s a dentist.”

“No!” Chenya gasped, holding a hand over his smile in a scandalized gesture.

“Indeed. It’s only a matter of time before Trey acquires a professional dentistry kit.”

“For your information, I already have one.” Trey pointedly ignored the hybrid guffaw and snort Chenya lets out, “And also, I am not the weird one. Of all I have to deal with in this dorm and with you two during summer? I’m the only sane one left.”

Rolling his eyes, Riddle turned toward Trey, “Oh, it can’t be that bad…”

“Oh really. Let me tell you then…”

Trey should have never let Yuu teach the Adeuce duo ‘Pig Latin’. Whatever ancient tongue the two were arguing was lost on most of the dorm. Riddle was somehow able to understand it perfectly, but the house warden wasn’t around to translate for him and Cater.

Leaning against the island, Cater scrolled through his phone. He whistled a low note when the shouting in the next room started to grow in volume, “Should we intervene? They’re getting pretty heated in there.”

Shaking his head Trey keeps kneading his dough, a relaxed smile on his face “Naw. Riddle says they use it to debate homework answers. Since someone teased them mercilessly about one wrong answer, now they do it in code.”

Cater looks away, only having the grace to look slightly bashful as he posed for a selfie, “I said sorry…”

Their chat continued, topics of their own homework or school news filling the kitchen. Cater was recounting a story of something that happened in the Light Music Club. The redhead barely containing his laughter, scrolling through his phone for the video he took before he was interrupted by a bellowing yell from who they could hear was Ace.

“OURYAY OM’SMAY AYAY ILFMAY!”

The silence that followed was almost lethal. Trey and Cater stood stunned, looking at each other in surprise, only to hear footsteps stomping toward them. Soon Deuce entered the kitchen, face red in fury as he grabbed a knife from the block and stormed out of the room.

Only when he was gone did Trey and Cater jump into action, fully realizing what the first year had planned, “Deuce, don’t do it!”

“Your mom is gonna be so disappointed if you kill someone, Deuce-Chan!”

“What…are you doing?” Trey looked at the scene in front of him. He tried not to glare, his face instead showing just how tired he was. His hands gripped the serving platter harder as his nerves started to rise.

Cater was suspended over the railing at the top of The Heartslabyul staircase, nearly tiled over as Ace and Deuce held onto the 3rd year’s legs. He had the nerve to smile and wave over his shoulder, “Hey Trey-Kun~ I’m trying this new photo trend. You take aerial pics from the tops of staircases. They looked so cool and our dorm has the most funky staircase of all! I’m gonna get mad likes. #TopPics #SoCool #WatchYourStep #LOL.”

“Don’t worry Clover-Senpai! We’ve got Diamond-Senpai in safe hands!” Deuce smiled, arms locked tightly over one of Cater’s legs. Ace sniffled from Cater’s other leg, trying to rub his nose onto his shoulder.

“...Okay…” Trey looked away, sighing and turning around to continue to Riddle’s room, “Just make sure you guys are safe.” A smile slowly grows on his face hearing Deuce start to ramble out promises to be responsible.

“You can trust us Clover-Senpai! Ace and me-”

ACHOO

Cater’s fading yell makes Trey drop his serving platter, ruining the tart and glassware, rushing back to the stairwell. He nearly went over the railing as well. Slamming into the metal banister, Trey looked down with wide eyes. He finally relaxed, seeing Cater on the ground floor on top of a few other 3rd years. The poor upperclassmen groaning under the impact Cater surprised them with.

The diamond redhead moaned but gave a shaky thumbs up, his phone still clutched in his hands, “I’m okay…!” His smile faded from his face as he fully slumped over, glaring at the pictures he managed to snap in his panic on the fall, “#IBetterGet100KHitsForThisShit…”

Trey looked to his side, eyes stopping at Ace wiping at his nose with his finger. The hearts redhead sniffled, looking away from Trey and Deuce’s glares, “I didn’t do it on purpose…”

The first thing Trey realized was that it was 2 am. He blinks, trying to take in his blurry surroundings. Trey put his glasses on his face, reaching blindly over to his side table and grabbing his ringing phone. Bleary eyes squinting at the contact reading ‘Jade’ before he answered the call, “Jade? It’s…very late what is this about?”

“So sorry to bother you Trey, but it’s most important that you make your way to Octavinelle. Post haste if you will.”

“...Why?”

Jade chuckled, Trey could visualize the EelMer holding his hand over his mouth, hiding his teeth, “Well, it seems we’ve acquired something of yours and Azul would like it gone before he loses any more sleep.”

“...What?”

He could hear Floyd cackling loudly in the background, being able to make out him yelling, “Come here, Goldfishie~! I wanna give you a squeeze and a kiss!”

“Get away from me, Floyd!”

“...” Trey sighed deeply, sitting up in bed and looking around for his shoes and jacket, “Why is Riddle in Octavinelle?”

“Let me check.” Jade moves away from the phone to yell after Riddle, “Riddle-San? Why are you here again?”

“Rule 124! The sink in my bathroom broke- Go away Floyd- and the faucet soaked me- DON’T YOU TOUCH ME!”

“That’s why.”

Trey could hear the smile in Jade’s voice. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back and bites back his groan, “I’m on my way. Please don’t let Floyd frisk Riddle again.”

“Well, let me go stop him then. You might want to go check on that faucet Riddle was talking about, though.” Jade hangs up, the sounds of Floyd laughing and Riddle screaming in the background clicking off instantly.

Trey sat in his seat glaring at his friends. Riddle and Chenya finding their cups of tea much more interesting. Riddle looked mildly sheepish, Chenya looked ready to burst into laughter. Though the cat beastman knew if he did he wasn’t going to be welcomed in Heartslabyul for quite some time. So he bit into his fist, taking care to not press too hard and break the skin.

“I live every day in terror from the lovable menaces I’m forced to room with. If I’m odd it’s me trying to cope with the madness around me.” Trey frowned, grabbing his own slice of lemon curd and lavender tart he had been experimenting with.

Riddle sighed. Managing to meet Trey’s eyes he nodded his head in apology, “Condolences, Trey. I also feel…overwhelmed at times with our current batch. I didn’t stop to think about how your duties plus looking after everyone was affecting you…And I was no help, yet again…” His expression fell more into sadness as he realized he wasn’t easing Trey’s predicaments as he had tried to do.

Chenya reached over, pinching the fat of Ridle’s cheek and pulling. He ignored his friend’s scolding, face turning his impressive shade of red.

“No more of that~. It’s not purr fault, your mom kinda kept you from learning empathy for your peers. We’re just glad you still turned out to be such a nice kitten!”

“...” Riddle sighed, face going back to its pale shade before he spoke in a slightly slurred tone, “Thank you, Chenya…”

“Plus~. Trey, you should rely on me more too, you know? I’m here a lot in the afternoons most days, I can help around where no one can see me. You guys just try to have a cozy repeat year~.”

Smiling, Trey shakes his head. It was a sweet sentiment. But Chenya was a 3rd year, he needed to focus on his grades and finalizing his internship, “Thanks for the offer Chenya. But, I’ve told you, 3rd years need to work on preparing for their internships. You should do the same. I and most of the other NRC 3rd years got lucky and whoever had a placements got their time extended.”

Chenya tilted his head, “I’m still a 2nd year, though?”

…

Riddle put his teacup onto the saucer, nearly breaking it from the force, eyes wide at the information, “What? How? What class did you fail?” All those hours studying and getting texts full of mind-numbing emojis about aced tests, were those all lies!?

“Nah. I just chose to repeat 2nd year after hearing you had to. I did promise we were going to do our internship together after all.”

“...” Riddle felt his face flush again, only this time in embarrassment—the promise from before their first year. Chenya had managed to meet Riddle in secret. The cat beastman told him all about his tour of Royal Sword, saddened by the fact Riddle had been accepted to Night Raven. But he did promise to make sure they were able to hang out at their internships, “You can’t just…decide to repeat a year for me…”

Chenya smiles, waving his hand and sharing a smile with Trey, “Eh~. Me and Trey had a whole plan for when we graduated. Trey would get the groundwork for a place for us and I take over his ‘Riddle Rangling’ job. The plan doesn’t work if we’re both away from you, goes against the whole thing!”

“I- plan? What plan!?”

Trey leaned on the table, his knuckles gently knocking on the side of Riddle’s head to call his attention, “You’re our friend. We’re gonna want to make sure you don’t have to go back with your mom. We’d at least offer you the choice.”

“...Trey…Chenya…”

Chenya tilted onto the back legs of his chair, smiling at himself with his eyes closed, “In my opinion. Our first plan of just burning your house down with your mom inside was way easier.”

“Chenya.”

Riddle huffed out a laugh, keeping silent as Trey and Chenya bickered about the mortality of ‘Justified Arson’. His friends were odd, he was odd. He took a sip of his tea, the faint taste of honey mixed with lemon pleasant on his tongue.

Trey smiled to himself, letting Chenya continue on about his reasonings. It hurt at times, seeing the way they were now. Happy and together sharing treats, laughing and at peace with simple conversation. Just like that day nearly ten years ago. A part of him always wondered what they’d be like if that day was never ruined. If they were all just left to be friends. But such a day didn’t exist, and his signature spell wasn’t going to ever change the bitter taste it left in his mouth.

But, they had today and plenty of tomorrows to be friends, and that made it all okay.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #twst wonderland #chenya #twst chenya #twst trey #trey clover #riddle x floyd #heartslabyul

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borathae · 2 years ago

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 09 - Ghost]

Warnings: lots of emotional stuff, just emotions man emotions

Wordcount: 14.9k

a/n: hehe (with intent)

“Jimin? Holy shit, how? I saw you die.”

“Yeah, uhm…about that.”

You reach out and touch his chest. Hard and firm and most definitely real.

“What? How? What?" you stutter, “how? I literally saw the pile of ash.”

Jimin takes a step back, forcing your hand to slip from his chest.

“Resurrection spell. Good stuff, only works once and when done right. Fucking the brains out of a witch in secret has its advantages.”

“I think I’m gonna black out. You’re alive? All this bloody time you’ve been alive?”

Jimin scrunches his nose up in slight distaste.

“Geez, I see that you’re still dramatic.”

“No. Ohohoh no, you dickhead are not pulling that now”, you say, pointing an accusing finger at him, “you’re such a little shit, do you know that? Taehyung cried himself to sleep for months because of you and you are not going to appear here with accusations of me being dramatic.”

Jimin falters before sadness washes over his face.

“Taehyung cried because of me?”

“Yeah?” you laugh in disbelief, “maybe he shouldn’t have, given how you decided to act dead.”

“Now wait a minute”, Jimin hisses, “I was barely alive for months. You think being reborn from ash is something fun? Hell no, I’m back to ground zero.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I lost six centuries of strength.”

You snort.

“Don’t laugh”, he spits.

“I’m sorry, but this serves you so right.”

“You bitch”, Jimin gasps, blinking his eyes in disbelief, “where’s your compassion? I thought you were oh so nice.”

“Yeah, to people who didn’t try to kill me multiple times and on top of that abandoned their best friend.”

“I didn’t abandon-”, he stops himself, breathing in loudly. He raises his finger, pointing it at you vigorously, “you hah”, he laughs with fiery eyes, “you”, he steps closer, pointing his finger right at your face.

“What?”

He flicks your forehead.

“Ah. What the hell? That hurt”, you gasp, rubbing the aching spot.

“Serves you right”, he grumbles, taking a step back.

You huff out air, sending him an angry look.

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“Where’s your bodyguard?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Min Yoongi. Where is he?”

“Yeah, about that”, you begin, “I may have lost him. As a matter of fact, I’m kind of lost in general.”

Jimin scoffs.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, but this serves you so right.”

“Shut up.”

He gives you a shiteating grin, then gives you a nod of his head.

“Come with me”, he says and turns to leave.

“Excuse me? Why should I come with you? I have to find the others.”

Jimin looks over his shoulder.

“Because it’s getting dark and vampires here are different. They see an unfamiliar face wandering the streets at night and next thing you know, you’re dinner.”

“What the hell? Wait. Is this neighbourhood owned by vampires?”

“Yeah. It’s the norm here to eat humans”, he shrugs his shoulders, “now follow me, I’m hungry.”

“Well, I’m not going to follow you now.”

He groans, “fine then die here, what do I care.”

“Fine.”

Jimin turns his back to you and leaves. You watch him leave. You must be hallucinating. Jimin can’t be alive. You saw his body turn to ash. You literally watched it happening. This must be a trick of your lost, panicky brain. You are imagining stuff as your last resolve before officially losing your mind. Jimin is dead. He died a year ago. He isn’t alive. This right here never happened.

“Bonsoir.”

You turn upon hearing the unfamiliar voice to your right.

“Uuh..hello”, you greet the woman by your side. Her demeanour seemed friendly, yet her eyes as cold as ice.

She looks at your face, giving you a friendly smile.

“Oh? You speak English, thank god. I thought I needed to flex my very terrible French skills with you. Are you lost too? My name’s Stacey and I can’t find my way back to my hotel”, she says in a heavy French accent (almost as if her name wasn’t even Stacey and she was, in fact, French) and laughs shyly, “I saw you standing here that’s why I approached you. Girls helping out girls, am I right?”

“Yeah totally”, you say, eyeing her suspiciously.

“So are you lost?” she asks, still wearing her smile.

“I uhm…”

“Are you lost?” she repeats as her smile grows. She inches closer.

It makes you take a step back.

“Actually I am-”

“You are lost”, she says and her smile drops, “yes, you are lost.”

“I’m actually waiting for someone. He should be here any second.”

“Mhm okay”, her smile returns, “I’ll wait with you until he’s here.”

Then she stares, not blinking once. She stares and stares and stares and while she stares, the streets around you get darker and darker. You have figured her out by now. You know exactly what she is. The knowledge doesn’t make it easier. You are so scared. Your boys are nowhere to be found, your phone is dead so you can’t call for help, a vampire is just waiting for the sun to set behind the buildings so she can eat you and to top it all of Jimin, someone who may have helped you, is gone too. You fucked up. You fucked up big times.

“It’s getting darker”, she says and smiles again, “when is he coming?”

“He, he must be here soon.”

“Okay. Let’s wait.”

“I, I actually have to go somewhere else.”

“I will come with you.”

“I want to go alone.”

“No, you don’t. I will come with you.”

“No, it’s seriously not necessary he’ll be here any second now.”

“Yeah? I’ll just wait till he is.”

“He is Min Yoongi.”

“Yeah? I bet he is”, sarcasm drips from her voice, “I’ll just try my luck then.”

“What?”

She inches closer. You can watch the sun set behind her. Just a few more seconds and the street would be dark. You take a step back. She chases you.

“Scurry off Millicent.”

She turns her head, locking eyes with someone behind you. Awesome. Another bloodsucker just joined. You feel fearful shivers run down your spine.

“Oh? She’s yours? I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was.”

“Well she is”, the person says and drapes his arm around your shoulders.

You turn your head, feeling a million pounds lift from your chest.

“Now leave her alone”, Jimin says and flashes his fangs.

“Of course, truly I apologize”, she says and then locks eyes with you, “I’m sorry for scaring you”, she laughs, “I didn’t know you were Jimin’s girl. Please don’t tell Yoongi about it, I promise I was just joking.”

“It’s uhm….okay?" you mumble.

The woman turns and then disappears into the night.

You sneak a glance at Jimin, who seems displeased.

“Believe me now?”

“Yeah”, you give up, huffing out air.

He scoffs, then makes you walk with a gentle push.

“Come on, my place’s not far from here.”

You follow him, clutching his waist as if your life depended on it. In a way it does. Yes, you are embarrassed about it, hoping that Jimin won’t call you out on it.

He does, sneaking a glance at you, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you hugging me?”

“I’m not”, you break away, huffing out air, “idiot.”

“Scaredy cat”, he teases, earning himself a nudge to his side.

“I wasn’t scared, okay? I was just…making sure you’re real.”

“Mh-hm sure”, Jimin scoffs and chuckles, “seriously though, why are you here?”

“I told you, I’m lost. I wanted to meet up with the others at this bar, but my phone died before I found it.”

“What bar?”

“Peony. It’s somewhere in Belleville.”

“You are so far off then. This is Quartier Latin, you’re not even on the right side of the Seine.”

“What? But I took the right bus. Or did I? What number did I get on?”

“You probably took the wrong one.”

You look around yourself, “I guess I did. Crap. I’m such a fucking mess.”

“So why didn’t you call one of them? I’m sure they’ll help you.”

“Because I don’t know how to call people”, you say sarcastically, “obviously my phone’s fucking dead, dipshit. I told you.”

Jimin lets out a lazy laugh.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not”, he says, lifting his hands in defeat.

“You don’t possess over a charger for my phone, do you?"

“What model?”

You show it to him.

“No. I actually don’t own a phone anymore.”

“Crap. This is such a mess.”

Jimin leads you into a narrow alleyway. The lights aren’t working, except for one flickering weakly above your heads. You shiver, drawing closer to him as fear fills your veins.

“Where the hell are you taking me?”

“A safe zone”, Jimin says.

“Can’t you take me to Peony?”

“No, the city’s different at night. It’s best that we stay somewhere safe until it’s daylight again.”

Just as he said the sentence, you can hear a blood curling scream behind you. You flinch, looking at Jimin with widened eyes.

“What was that?”

“I told you. The city’s different at night. Stay close, the hunt’s begun.”

“The hunt?” you gasp.

“Yeah. The vampires made a treaty with the locals here. They won’t touch humans during the day, but every human out after sundown is free food.”

“What the hell.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders.

“And the, the safe zone is really safe?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know that it is?”

“Because I live there”, Jimin says.

“Okay?”

“It’s owned by witches. Vampires can’t enter without an invitation”, he explains.

“I see. So why are you-”, another scream echoes through the streets, making you flinch, “why are you living there? Are you hiding too?”

“Maybe. The vampires here don’t know that I died.”

“Aah, I get it. If they found that you lost- eek.”

Jimin has you pressed against the wall with his hand on your mouth instantly.

“Shut up”, he hisses, “don’t say that out loud. Understood?”

You nod your head vigorously, staring into his eyes. They are glowing ruby in the darkness.

“Good”, Jimin slips his hand from your mouth, “come on, it’s past that corner”, he says in his normal voice.

A small plaza reveals itself to you once you crossed said corner. Small booths are scattered around the open place and the darkness of the night seems to disappear magically. It was still dark, but it didn’t feel dangerous anymore. A few fires in barrels were keeping the air warm, slowly dying out now that nobody was around to feed them.

Jimin leads you over the small marketplace, walking with less tension in his shoulders.

“It feels different here”, you say.

“Yeah, we’re in the safe zone. The witches’ magic protects us now.”

“I see. Where is everyone?”

“Some are sleeping, most are hunting down vampires and healing their prey.”

“That sounds like a lot of work”, you say, “I wonder why the wolves aren’t intervening.”

Jimin sneaks a glance at you, “you met wolves?”

“Yes. The Seville pack with Yoongi today.”

“Well damn, you actually met Maël”, Jimin murmurs, clicking his tongue, “that’s actually really impressive.”

“I know, it was really cool”, you say nonchalantly, “I wonder why Maël isn’t doing anything against it.”

“Because he knows better than to fight vampires in their own territory. If he attacked us here, the peace treaty would be over and war would break out again. Trust me, nobody wants that. As long as the vampires don’t hunt in other neighbourhoods, he can’t do anything against them.”

“I see. So it’s actually as bad as Yoongi told me.”

“Yes, it is. I was present when the actual fighting happened, you know?”

“You were?” you gasp.

“Yes. Tae and I. It was in the 1820s and Maël’s grandfather was still in charge. Yoongi was present too. He was the only one who could talk to all four factories without them wanting to kill him. I think he did a lot to keep the war from spreading to other cities.”

“Who were the four factories?”

“Vampires, wolves, witches and humans. Although the humans soon gave up in trying and concentrated on fleeing instead. The witches helped them and soon only vampires and the wolves continued the war.”

“Well that’s…were you and Tae involved in the fighting?”

“For a little while until Namjoon grew bored of it and fled to Mexico with his little bitches”, Jimin says and scoffs, “that was us, by the way.”

“Well damn. I’m sorry this happened to you guys. It’s fucking awful that he had you hostage for so many decades.”

Jimin glances at you, “thanks”, he murmurs, scratching the side of his neck. He points up a metal staircase then, “my room’s up there.”

You lead the way while Jimin follows with his eyes glued to the back of your head.

“Why are you guys in Paris?” he asks you.

“We’re hunting Namjoon.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. Fredrick’s men told us that he was seen in Paris, so we’re trying to find him. Yoongi and Maël are going to eradicate a big group of his followers the day after tomorrow.”

“You’re very chatty with those details, aren’t you?”

You stop and turn. Jimin stops too. Like this, you are towering over him just enough that your lips could brush against his forehead if you allowed them to. Jimin tilts his head up, facing you with confidence in his look.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask him.

“I’m just saying, I could be one of Namjoon’s spies and you are just telling me all of your plans. Aren’t you scared that I’ll rat you out?” he challenges.

You study him. His cheeks have fallen in, dark circles are under his eyes. He looks so tired and weakened by life.

“I don’t want to step on your toes, but I doubt that Namjoon would let someone with the strength of a Year One do his spy work. Especially not a Year One who went up against him. If you were still under Namjoon’s influence, you’d be his torture toy, not his spy.”

Jimin takes a sharp intake of air, releasing it in a painful shudder. He lowers his eyes.

“I hate that you’re right”, he whispers, trying to hide the tremble coursing through his body by rolling his shoulders.

“But you’re safe from him. You know that, don’t you?”

Jimin pulls a grimace of flustered distaste.

“Don’t act like you care”, he hisses, bumping his shoulder with you as he flees upstairs.

You let out a defeated sigh. You figured that he wouldn’t accept your kindness. You turn and follow him, taking two steps at a time.

He is waiting by the door, turning the keys once you are close enough.

“Come in, I guess”, he murmurs, getting inside.

You follow him.

He closes the door behind you. Seconds later, the lights flicker on. A small room reveals itself to you. Just big enough for a double bed, a tiny kitchen and a small desk with one chair. It smells like wet walls and dust in here. Dark water spots on the greyish walls let you know why it does.

“Well damn”, you say, “I didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah, bask in my ruin all you want”, he murmurs, pressing himself past you to get to his fridge. He opens it to get a blood bag out. He bites it roughly, drinking the blood rather greedily.

You watch him as he does, finding the scene most peculiar. You can still remember how he walked into the kitchen covered in the blood of his prey or how he ripped your neck out without a care in the world. And yet here he is. Drinking cold blood in a small, dirty room.

Jimin drops the empty bag into the sink.

“What are you looking at?” he hisses.

“Nothing”, you say, breaking your eyes away to stare out the small window. The glass was fogged up from dirt, dust has collected on its wooden frame and cog webs are spanning along the corners.

“I know what you are thinking”, he hisses, “I know you think that it’s so fucking funny that someone like me ended up living in such a shithole, but save it, at least I’m alive and that’s all that matters.”

“I really wasn’t thinking that”, you say and somehow in this moment you feel bad for him.

He carries the slightest sign of embarrassment on his face, maybe even shame.

He kicks the kitchen counter quietly. Just a little nudge. The gesture reminds you of a small boy getting caught doing something he shouldn’t have done.

“I’m taking a shower, don’t touch anything”, he says coldly and seconds later, the door slams closed.

So this is actually real. Jimin is still alive. Living in this shithole of a home and drinking blood from a blood bag. There was a time – many, many months ago – where you would have basked in his ruin. After all, he did terrible things to you. But you can’t anymore these days. You know a person broken by the world when you see one. Taehyung carries the same aura around him as Jimin does. They must miss each other so much. You have to convince Jimin to come with you. You want Taehyung to know that he is still alive. He deserves to know after the awful year he had been through.

You have just sat down on his bed when Jimin comes outside.

“Geez”, you gasp, covering your eyes quickly.

“Chill, it’s not like you haven’t seen it before”, he says, strutting past you in nothing but his towel and his hair wet.

He drops said towel a second later as he puts on his pants. You don’t notice that he does, too busy with covering your eyes. Jimin fastens the strings tightly, studying you from head to toe.

“Here.”

You gasp as a piece of fabric lands over your head. You tug it away to inspect it. A grey t-shirt. You look at Jimin, who is staring at you with his torso still bared and his arms crossed in front of it. He is leaning against the kitchen counter.

“It’s freshly washed. Use it or not, I don’t really care.”

“Thanks, I’ll pass.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “whatever, then sleep in your clothes. Want some tea?”

“Uuuuh…sure?”

“Fine, take a shower, I’ll prepare it.”

“Uh sure?”

“Fresh towels are on the rack above the toilet.”

“Yes. Okay.”

You take a shower solely because being with Jimin in the same room feels so wrong. The water is freezing. The bathroom is tiny, offering just enough space that you don’t have to stand on top of the toilet to get clean. It is not far off however, that much can be said.

You end up wearing Jimin’s shirt because your other option would be walking outside in a towel and you are not for that life. Not with Jimin. Never.

Jimin sits on his bed, having his back turned to you so he can look out of the dirty window. Somehow a dark halo of loneliness surrounds him. Loneliness and maybe sadness as well. He is so different. Not only because his hair has turned from silver to ebony or not only because he seems to hunch these days rather than sit up straight. But in general. He doesn’t show off, he doesn’t act as if he was better than you, he doesn’t even try to look well put together. There was also this big silver mark on his back. Its edges remind you of the edges of a hole in a wall when someone punched their hand through it. The mark is on his left upper back, right where his heart would be. It makes you wonder if this has something to do with how he died.

“Are you going to stare at me any longer?” he says.

“I uh”, you break your eyes away, “I wiped down your shower with my towel.”

“Yeah”, he acknowledges you, “your tea’s on the desk.”

You eye it. It’s not in a cup, but in an empty marmalade jar. It is still steaming, carrying golden liquid.

“Thanks.”

You sit down next to Jimin. Your eyes meet. You and him break eye contact instantly, looking to the side awkwardly. You try the hot beverage. It tastes like lemon and ginger.

“The tea’s good. What brand is it?”

“I don’t know?” he scoffs, “Thea bought it, told me that it’ll do me good. I’ve been trying to use it up.”

“Well, it’s good. It has a slight lemony taste to it, don’t you think?”

“Don’t try to small talk with me. I hate nothing more than small talk.”

“What else do you want me to do? Sit here in silence?”

“It’s better than pretending that we care for each other.”

“Seriously though, how the fuck are you still alive?”

Jimin sneaks a glance at you.

“I told you, resurrection spell. Thea did it.”

“Who is Thea?”

“The leader of this coven. A witch. She did the spell”, Jimin says and points at a picture above his bed, “that’s her.”

You study the woman on the photography. Her curly hair is grey and her skin carries the marks of a well-lived, happy life.

You scoff.

“What?”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been fucking the brains out of this woman in secrecy?”

“Okay first of all, save that weird tone in your voice and second of all yes I did, what about it?”

“Nothing, you just don’t strike me as someone who-”

“-who’s into older women?” he interrupts you, “well I don’t care, I’m six hundred years old. Age becomes miniscule once you’ve seen too many people around you age and die. I’ve known her since her twenties.”

“I actually wanted to say that you don’t strike me as someone who is into witches.”

Jimin scoffs, turning his head away from you. He takes a sip of his tea, pulling a grimace as if the taste doesn’t please him.

“Did it hurt?” you ask him.

“What do you mean?”

“Coming back to life.”

“Imagine finally feeling nothing until all of a sudden, it feels as if you are being burned alive but it’s in reverse. So it starts off so unbearable that you want to scream but you can’t because your voice’s been burned too and then suddenly you wake up and you feel and it’s fucking awful because you’re alive again.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

“Save it, I know you don’t mean it.”

“No, I do.”

Jimin scoffs.

“Is the silver mark on your back connected to the spell?” you ask him, sneaking a glance at his chest. The mark is there as well, spanning over the spot where his heart was supposed to be.

Jimin touches it, jaw tightening in emotion, “I guess”, he whispers.

“It’s where he…you know, isn’t it?”

He nods his head.

“Does it still hurt?”

He shakes his head and sneaks a glance at you.

“What?” he hisses, “just touch it if you keep fucking staring at it and stop being so nosy.”

You reach out. Hesitation. A fleeting look into his eyes.

“Touch it”, he insists.

You place your fingertips against the mark. His skin is cold like that of a vampire consuming cold blood, but the silver mark is icy. Merely tracing it for a few seconds makes your skin sting as if you got frostbite. You gasp, moving your hand away.

“It’s ice cold.”

“Yeah. You’re happy now?”

You reach out again, tracing the mark along its edge. Just enough not to hurt yourself, but still enough to feel it. His skin feels calloused and rough in contrast to his otherwise soft skin. As if someone placed silver leaves on his skin, the marks span against the ivory background. In a twisted way it looks beautiful, if it wasn’t the reminder of his death.

You pull your hand away, brushing your fingertips over his skin involuntarily as you do. Your eyes flit up. Jimin is looking at you, fingers clutching the jar and eyes racing between yours in suspicious nervousness.

“I think the mark is beautiful.”

“Beautiful? Why is it beautiful? It’s fucking hideous. Look at it. It’s the reminder that I fucking died.”

“I know and that’s why it’s awful that you have to carry it, but I think it’s beautiful in the sense that it shows that you were brave in your last moments.”

Jimin looks at you with widened eyes.

“You could have fled with Tae, but you chose to go up against your abuser and I think that’s really brave”, you say.

Jimin clenches his jaw.

“Thank you for keeping Taehyung safe”, you whisper.

“Shut up”, he hisses.

“I’m serious. I know you died protecting him and I just want to tell you that it means the world to Tae.”

Jimin lowers his head.

“And that he wishes you peace.”

“Fuck”, he presses out, covering his eyes quickly, “shut the fuck up”, he spits.

“I’m sorry, I know I should be quiet”, you whisper, considering whether or not you should reach out and comfort him. You decide against it, using your hands to lift the jar to your lips instead.

Jimin takes a deep breath, releasing it oh so shakily. Then he drops his hand from his eyes, looking at the moon outside. Dark clouds are covering it, keeping the light away from him. Perfect for his fucking life, he thinks. Darkness and no light. That’s just his life summed up.

“I’ll leave tomorrow”, you say.

“Good, I would have thrown you out either way.”

“Tzt”, you send him a look then look back outside, “you should come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because Taehyung misses you.”

“He’s better off that way.”

“No he’s not. I know you guys. You miss him too.”

“Doesn’t matter, he’s still better off without me.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes he is.”

“Holy fuck, you stubborn idiot. Taehyung has barely been functioning in grief ever since you died. He’s not better off without you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been taking care of him. He talks in his sleep you know?”

Jimin looks at you.

“He doesn’t know that I know, but I do because he wakes me up with it. He dreams about you, it’s always the same dream. About you coming back to life and it’s always the same thing he says. Jimin, you’re back. Jimin please don’t ever leave me again. It’s always the same thing.”

Jimin lowers his eyes sadly.

“And if it’s not that dream, he dreams about dying. It’s what he wants to do. To die. He tells me in his sleep.”

Jimin’s eyes fill with tears.

“And I know him. He says that I’m the person he can’t live without, but that’s a lie. I know that Tae also knows that that’s a lie. You’re the person he can’t live without, because I’ve been with him as he tried and it’s not working.”

Jimin spills his tears, lowering his head.

“Fuck”, he presses out, “fuck. What do you want me to say?” he hisses.

“Just that you’ll come with me.”

“Fuck”, he presses out, running his fingers through his own hair.

“Do it for Tae please. You’ll regret it if you don’t. We won’t be in town for long anymore. Just till Wednesday. Come with me please and show yourself to Tae.”

“What should I even say to him?”

“Nothing. Just give him a hug and promise him that you’re back.”

He grinds his teeth in contemplation.

“Fine”, he gives in, blinking the glassiness in his eyes away, “I’ll come with you.”

He stands up then.

“Where are you going?” you ask him.

“For a walk. I need to think.”

“You’re not running away, are you?”

“No?” he hisses, “that’s my place, why should I run away from it?”

You shrug your shoulders.

Jimin scoffs.

“Don’t wait for me”, he says, locking the door behind him afterwards.

You won’t see Jimin for the rest of the night. He comes back, but you have long fallen asleep when he does. So he stares. He stares at you sleeping in his bed with his shirt on and his blanket keeping you warm and for just a second he wonders what would happen if he did it now. If he broke your neck right this instant and then fled the scene, could he live a good life? He thinks of it and then thinks of how heartbroken Taehyung would be because now he not only lost his best friend but his lover too. That is the moment when Jimin turns away from the bed and decides to go for another walk. One which will take the entire night and keep his thoughts from suffocating him.

The smell of tea wakes you the next morning. You sniffle happily, expecting blue sheets and blues walls and the beautiful face of your boyfriend as he is waiting for you with breakfast in bed. You smile, peeling your eyes open. You are so ready to smooch him.

“Huh?”

There is no breakfast waiting for you. Nor are there blue sheets or blue walls. And especially not Yoongi’s handsome face.

“Finally.”

You turn upon hearing the unfamiliar voice. For just a second you startle until everything comes back to you. Jimin is sitting on the chair, having his legs crossed. Jeans adorns his legs and an oversized hoodie is keeping his torso covered. The clothes don’t go together and look as if he found them at places he would have never shopped at in the past. Even his shoes seem to be passed down to him by a stranger.

“You scared me.”

“Why? Forgot I’m alive?”

“Yeah”, you say, sitting up, “holy fuck, Jimin. You’re alive.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic”, he says coldly, “get dressed. I don’t want you here any longer, the sheets already stink of you.”

You roll out of bed, inching closer to the desk on which a single jar of black tea was waiting for you. Judging by the teabag in the sink, Jimin was the one making it for you.

“Thank you for the tea, I’m so cold.”

Jimin eyes your neck, “same”, he says dryly, making you hide your neck behind your hand.

“Don’t look at me that way.”

He rolls his eyes, sighing loudly.

“That woman really thinks so highly of herself”, he murmurs to himself, “relax girl, I don’t want to be anywhere near your neck”, he says and stands up, “let’s go downstairs. I’ll bring you back to the others.”

“Yes, uhm. Can I at least put on my clothes?”

He runs his eyes up and down your exposed legs.

“Sure”, he says and turns. He leaves you in the small room with the tea he made for you and so many confusing feelings in your chest. Jimin is really back, isn’t he? Well damn.

You get dressed quickly, taking the jar of tea with you.

Jimin is waiting for you in front of the door, studying you from head to toe again.

“Can we go?” he asks.

“Yes. We can.”

The plaza is bustling with life this morning. The fire in the barrels has been distinguished, except for one. A group of people is gathered by it, cooking what you assume to be food. The small booths are open, presenting the most beautiful of handmade treasures.

“Good morning, Jimin. Who is that lovely lady by your side?” an elderly lady greets him and a few other heads turn as well. You know that lady from the photograph. She must be Thea. She looks even happier than she did on the picture.

“___, old friend. She stayed here tonight.”

“I see, I see. Tell me ___, did you eat already?”

“She’s not hungry”, Jimin says, trying to tug you away by your elbow.

“Actually I am”, you say loudly, “I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

Jimin huffs out air, sending you an annoyed look.

“Oh dear”, the lady claps into her hands, “then come here and eat with us. We just finished preparing breakfast.”

“I would love to”, you wiggle out of Jimin’s grasp, “thank you so much.”

The lady, you assume to be Thea, welcomes you by placing her hands on your arms. She seems to space out for a moment before her eyes fill with great grievance.

“Oh dear, you have seen a lot of grief haven’t you?” she asks.

“I’m sorry?” you gasp.

“Dear child”, she caresses your arms, “don’t you worry, you won’t have to worry about vampires here. Well”, she looks at Jimin, “except for him, but he wouldn’t dare to act up”, she says and snickers.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but who are you? How did you do that?” you ask.

“My name’s Theanna, but most people call me Thea. I’m the leader of this coven here.”

“A coven. So you are all witches?”

She laughs fondly, as do the people having gathered around you by now.

“Of course we are my dear and we’re the reason your friend here is still alive.”

You look at Jimin. He seems annoyed, sending Thea a dark look.

“You look as if you have seen your first witch”, a younger witch says, showing you a friendly smile.

“I have”, you say, “I only heard of you guys and I read many of your spellbooks in my freetime, but I never met someone who can actually use magic. This is so cool, I can’t believe you guys are real. I’m sorry if this sounded weird, but I’m really excited.”

They laugh fondly, gathering around as they lead you to their little dining area. You feel safe in their circle, welcomed and as if you had always been a member of their family.

“Can I ask you a really stupid question?”

“Of course my dear. Every question is allowed.”

“Do you use brooms to fly around?”

Laughter roars in the small alleyways, filling it up with light and honesty.

“Oh you are wonderful”, Thea snickers, “no, we don’t fly on brooms, but we can enchant them to do our chores for us.”

“Okay that’s so cool”, you mumble.

One of the witches hands you a wooden bowl filled with warm soup. It smells like mushrooms and potatoes.

“Here you go”, she says, handing you a piece of bread and a wooden soup spoon as well.

“Thank you so much. It smells amazing.”

“Hopefully it is”, the witch says with a warm smile. She begins handing out soup to everyone, sitting down next to Jimin once everyone was taken care of.

There were around twenty witches gathered around the barrel. Fifteen of them are women and young girls, while the rest are men. They all carried a certain trustworthy familiarity with them. You feel safe eating their food and you feel encouraged to engage in small talk.

“Jimin told me that you tried to help in the hunt last night. I know, you don’t know me, but I hope that nobody got hurt”, you say.

Thea’s eyes soften, “you are very nice, my dear. Thankfully nobody got hurt last night. Eric escaped with a scratch, however it is nothing our ointments can’t fix.”

You look at the man opposite of you. There was a deep cut on his dark skin, stretching all the way over his inner upper arm.

“That looks painful. I hope you’re okay”, you tell him.

“I am”, he says and sends you a sweet smile. He looks at Thea, they exchange a little chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be so nosy”, you apologise.

“Not at all”, Thea assures you.

You take a few bites of the soup. It tastes so good. Creamy and hearty and as if it was made with lots of love. The bread is tasty as well. The crust crunches as you bite into it and the inside is fluffy and full of flavour. It goes perfectly with the earthy taste of mushrooms and the soft chewiness of the potatoes.

“My grandma partook in witchcraft as well. So meeting actual witches feels very exciting to me”, you explain.

“What? Your grandma was a witch?” Jimin gasps, showing honest interest in the conversation. Before that, he merely stared at the ground in brooding.

The witches seems even more interested in you as well, studying you with curious eyes.

“I don’t think that she was an actual witch, but she knew how to heal people with herbs and always told me that she can speak with her animals”, you say, giggling shyly, “I know it must sound like the talk of a crazy lady to you guys.”

“Not at all. There are various practices of witchcraft in this world. Perhaps your grandmother practiced nature magic”, Thea says.

“Nature magic?”

She nods her head, “witches, who practice nature magic most often than not use their magic to heal nature and its creatures. They help plants grow, keep the environment healthy and in return the plants offer their healing powers to them. And many can speak with animals.”

“Wow. Wait”, you scoot closer to her, “so you are telling me, that my grandma could have actually been a witch?”

“Perhaps. And if not, there was a possibility that she knew of our practices just like you do. She must have taught you a lot.”

“Oh no, I learned all of this in books. I wasn’t really allowed to talk about witchcraft with my grandma. My mother always told me that she was crazy and forbid me from seeing her very often.”

“Oh? I’m sorry to hear that, my dear”, Thea says and touches your hand.

She zones out again before she begins to smile.

“Your grandmother loved you a lot”, she says.

“How are you always doing this?” you feel the need to whisper the question.

“Thea possesses the gift of sight”, Eric explains.

“The gift of sight? So you can see my past?”

“Past, future and present. I can see things which were and which could happen, just as I can see things which are currently happening”, she says.

“That’s remarkable. Can every witch do that?”

“No, only a few can see what happens. And even less can decipher the visions. One has to decide whether the pictures are of the past, present or future.”

“I see. That sounds like such a good gift to have once you know how to control it.”

Thea nods her head, “this is also how I knew that Jimin died. I had a vision of him turning into dust.”

You look at Jimin. He seems bored by the conversation.

“Woah.”

He lets out a loud sigh, “enough stories, Thea. ___ wants to go home”, he says.

“No, I actually like the stories”, you say.

Jimin lets out a little snarl.

The witches snicker in amusement.

“No, but Jimin is right my dear. You should go home before vampires find out that you are here. They don’t like strangers in their territory”, Thea says.

“I guess you are right. Let me just finish the soup, it tastes so good that I don’t want to miss out on one bite.”

You eat one more serving before finally getting up to leave. Thea told you more stories about their fight against the vampires of this city while you asked questions about how magic works. Jimin sat and listened if he wanted to or not. He finally lifts his head once you stand up and help Maria – the witch who handed out the food – clean up.

“Are you done?” he asks you

“Yes. Thank you, everyone. I had such a great time talking to you.”

“The pleasure was all ours. It isn’t everyday that we meet the granddaughter of a nature witch”, Eric says, making you smile.

“So you will be taking Jimin from us today”, Thea says.

You laugh shyly, “I guess”, sneaking a glance at Jimin to check for his reaction.

He rolls his eyes like he always does. You wonder if there will ever come a day where his eyes get stuck from all the rolling he is doing.

“I’ll be back soon, don’t worry”, Jimin says, touching your elbow, “you good to go? Don’t wanna waste any more time.”

“Yes, I’m good. Thank you everyone for hosting me, I seriously had so much fun here.”

“I hope that you’ll be back again one day”, Thea says, smiling brightly.

“Me too.”

You and Jimin leave afterwards, walking to the bus station side by side. He keeps his distance, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants and kicking the occasional pebble.

“Are you taking me to the bar?” you ask him.

“Knowing Min Yoongi, it’s where he’ll look for you”, he says.

“Yes, that’s right. I really hope that he isn’t too worried”, you say and sigh sadly, "what am I talking about? Of course he’ll be worried. Poor Yoongi."

Jimin studies your face for just a second, wondering why your heart skipped a beat at the thought of the Creator. He dismisses it with a shake of his head. He doesn’t really care about it.

“The witches were so nice”, you say, “I really liked talking to them.”

“I noticed. Why did you ask so many questions?”

“Why not?”

“It’s nosy.”

“It’s not nosy. I rather ask many questions and educate myself than live in simplicity. Only through knowledge you can stop having mean and untrue prejudices about others.”

He clicks his tongue, “I hate that you’re right.”

You step on the right bus and choose an empty seat by the window. Jimin stands, looking outside whilst acting as if he doesn’t know you.

“Do you want to sit next to me?” you offer, “the seat’s still empty.”

“No, I’m good standing”, he answers you, sneaking a quick glance at you.

“Okay, suit yourself.”

Despite his efforts, he ends up sitting next to you after a group of guys entered the bus and looked at you weirdly.

“Changed your mind?”

“Those guys are vampires”, he tells you.

You eye them. They aren’t particularly looking at you, more than that they are looking at every human on this bus with hunger in their eyes.

“Well, then thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Whatever.”

The bus sways from left to right, the city passes you in streaks of different pictures and sceneries.

“I can’t believe that I took the wrong bus yesterday. It should have been so obvious to me”, you mumble.

“It happens. The city’s really big and if you don’t know it well, you can get lost”, Jimin says.

“Yes, you’re right. The city’s really nice”, you say, glancing at him, “Yoongi says that it’s a rancid city, but I think it’s nice.”

Jimin wonders again why your heart is speeding up at the mention of Yoongi. He doesn’t ask.

“I guess”, Jimin shrugs his shoulders, “it was nicer once.”

“I can imagine. Tae told me that you spend many years in Paris. Not just with Namjoon, but just the two of you as well. That must have been really nice.”

“Yes. It was”, Jimin whispers, touching the side of his neck.

“I’m really excited for you guys to meet again”, you give him a smile.

Jimin retorts it hesitantly.

You let out a content sigh, relaxing back against the seat and letting your eyes flit outside. It feels nice to know that Taehyung can finally get his happiness back. You never thought it possible, so knowing that it is makes you really happy. You are also very excited to see the others again. They must have been so worried for you. Gosh, you missed them all like crazy.

The bus comes to a slow stop.

“Let’s go”, Jimin says, leading the way outside and to the right bus.

“So that would have been the right one. I’m so dumb”, you mumble. You and Jimin sit down again and continue the journey you should have taken yesterday. “Do you know Peony?”

“Yes. It has good wine”, Jimin says.

“It has? Did you and Tae go there together?”

“Stop trying to talk to me”, Jimin hisses, “I’m just taking your dumb ass to Yoongi and that’s all.”

“And you are coming with me to meet Tae again”, you furrow your brows, “don’t forget that, understood?”

“Whatever”, Jimin dismisses you and turns his head away.

“I’m serious”, you say, nudging his arm.

“Yes. I understood you the first time”, he mumbles and for the rest of the drive you are both silent.

You were right about where the bar was located. Only a few hundred meters of walking and you can spot the purple peonies logo. And right underneath it with distraught on his face, Yoongi is standing. You begin smiling. He is here. Your Yoongi is here.

You feel like bursting with happiness.

“Yoongi!” you call out and start running.

He turns, eyes widening.

“Princess, holy fuck princess”, he is by your side within seconds, picking you up in his arms and twirling your bodies around quickly. He laughs loudly, beaming up at you with tears streaming down his face, “you’re back. My princess, you’re back”, he presses out and sobs.

“I’m back, my prince”, you choke out, “don’t cry, I’m okay.”

“I, I can’t help it. I was so worried for you”, he stutters in a whiney voice, pouting terribly sadly.

“I know, gosh my love, I’m here now”, you say, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“Oh, love”, Yoongi chokes out, lowering you closer to him so he can begin littering your face in a million kisses, “my princess, oh my princess. I was worried sick”, he chokes out between his excessive kisses, “I’ve been looking for you all night, oh my ___.”

“I missed you too, oh Yoongi”, you say, melting under his kisses. Now you are finally safe again. Yoongi nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and begins kissing you.

“Holy fuck, where were you?” he says, inhaling your scent deeply.

“Yoongi, I was so dumb”, you say, resting your cheek on his shoulder, “first my phone died and, and then I took the wrong bus and I ended up somewhere I was never before and, and then every cab ignored me and then it became dark and vampires wanted to eat me and I was so lost.”

“Wait a minute, slow down princess, slow down”, Yoongi sets you down, cupping your face, “vampires wanted to eat you? Who was it? Where are they?” he asks, furrowing his brows in anger, “did you see their faces? I’ll fucking kill them.”

“No it’s okay Yoongi, I’m alright”, you say, holding his cheeks and wiping his tears away, “I’m back again.”

Yoongi’s eyes soften.

“Oh princess”, he whispers, pulling you close to litter your face with kisses again.

You giggle, “that tickles, god Yoongi, that tickles.”

He hums, leaving even more kisses on your face whilst pulling you closer. You stumble, ending up with Yoongi tilting your body back and attacking you with big smooches.

“Yoongi, stop that tickles”, you squeal happily.

“Oh princess”, he presses out, straightening your bodies up so he can nuzzle his nose into your cheek, “I was going crazy in worry”, he confesses with a shaky voice, “don’t scare me like that ever again”, he says, resting his forehead against yours.

“I was really worried too, I just wanted to be with you again.”

“Fuck ___, my beloved princess”, he says, pulling you into a deep kiss.

You kiss him back happily, hooking your arms behind his head just to pull him closer. It feels so good to be with him again.

He sighs, having to press you oh so close to make sure that you won’t slip out of his grasp again. It is a kiss he would never show in public and yet right this moment it is all he wanted to do. Doesn’t matter who sees, he has you back with him again, unharmed and safe and he is bursting in relief.

He rests his cheek on your shoulder after the kiss, hugging you so tightly that you can feel how comfort engulfs you again. Now you are truly home again. Now you are back where it’s the warmest.

“I’m so happy to be back, Yoongi.”

“Me too, princess”, he gives your waist a soft squeeze, “you’re not going to leave again.”

You chuckle, “mhm honestly, I kind of don’t want to either way.”

“Good”, he lifts his head, gazing at you with lovedrunk eyes, “oh princess”, he whispers, reaching out to trace your features, “I’m so sorry for letting you go alone. I should have stayed by your side.”

“It’s okay, I don’t blame you. I was being a total scatterbrain”, you confess, “but Yoongi, I have to tell you something. When I was wandering the streets I met someone.”

“Who did you meet?” he seems wary.

“Yoongi, you won’t believe it but he’s not dead.”

“Who?”

“Ji-”, you stop talking now that you turned around and realised that Jimin was gone, “huh? What the hell? He is supposed to be here.”

Yoongi scans the empty streets, pulling you closer to him just in case.

“Who are you talking about, princess?”

You turn, looking into his eyes.

“Jimin. I ran into Jimin and, and he let me sleep at his place and he, uhm, he kept me safe from the vampires”, you say, “what the hell, he is supposed to be here. He promised me that he would stay and, and meet Tae.”

Yoongi furrows his brows in both confusion and distaste.

“Jimin can’t be alive. I saw his ashes.”

“Yes I know”, you exclaim, widening your eyes, “but he’s alive, Yoongi!” you laugh, “a witch resurrected him again and now he’s living together with the witches in their safe zone.”

Yoongi touches your forehead.

“Hey”, you move your head away, “don’t act like this.”

“Like how?”

“As if you think I’m crazy in a fever. I’m serious, Jimin’s still alive.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes”, you say, nodding your head vigorously, “I stayed the night with him and ate with him and his witch friends. I know what I saw.”

“But he died.”

“Smell me”, you say, offering your neck to him, “really smell me.”

Yoongi leans in and sniffles at your neck and shoulder.

“I smell like him, don’t I?”

He nods his head, looking at you with furrowed brows. He looks confused.

“See? I’m not lying.”

Yoongi inhales deeply, looking at the sky. His eyes race from left to right as he is thinking your words over. He exhales.

“Well fuck”, he says, scratching the side of his neck in contemplation, “let’s not tell Taehyung for now.”

“What? Why? He needs to know.”

“Yes he does, but not yet.”

“But this is so mean. All Tae wants is to be reunited with Jimin again. You know that as well as I do.”

“I do princess, but please listen to me.”

You close your mouth for now.

Yoongi is caressing your arms as he speaks, keeping his voice calm.

“Taehyung has just begun to smile again and we shouldn’t give him false hopes by telling him that Jimin is alive.”

“But why?”

“Because clearly Jimin doesn’t want him to find out or why did he run right now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he got scared that you’d rip his head off or something.”

“I mean, it’s not that I’m not considering”, Yoongi murmurs, earning himself a nudge to his chest.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. He deserves a good beating for what he did to you.”

“I know, but…my prince, can’t you come with me and find him? I want to tell Taehyung, but you are right, we should do it once we find out what Jimin’s intentions are.”

“No, we should leave”, he says and pushes you softly to get you to move.

“Please, Yoongi”, you stop him from leaving by placing your hands on his chest.

He studies your features.

“What are you even going to tell him?”

“I don’t know, just ask him why he doesn’t want to see Tae.”

Yoongi grinds his teeth, looking to the side in contemplation. So you step closer, hugging his middle and resting your cheek on his shoulder.

“Please, Yoongi Boongie?”

“You’re cheating”, he whines, “you can’t hug me like that.”

You giggle, squeezing him gently.

“You know that I’m down for every method.”

“Yeah, I know”, he whispers, leaning in just to give your cheek a little bite.

“Ah, hey”, you gasp, “don’t bite me.”

He grins boyishly, “it’s what you get for being a cheater.”

“So mean”, you mumble, giving him a pout as you rub the spot he bit.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, head tilting to the side as he gazes, “I’ll come with you, alright?” he whispers, caressing your waist.

“Yes, wow. Thank you, Yoongi Boongie”, you say, smooching his cheek even if that flusters him big times.

“Yeah, yeah just lead the way”, he mumbles, letting you drag him down the streets.

You board the bus together. Yoongi lets you take the seat by the window while he claims the spot by the aisle. He drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. The gesture is very untypical of him and so you sneak a glance at him. He notices, looking at you.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing, you’re just normally not that affectionate in public.”

“Tch”, he clicks his tongue, trying and failing to pull his arm away because before he can, you intertwine your fingers with him.

You grin, resting your head against him.

“I like that”, you tell him.

Yoongi hums, closing his arm around you to begin running his hand up and down your upper arm. He won’t tell you, but he is that affectionate because he almost lost you last night and now he never wants to let you go again. You won’t slip out of his hands again, Yoongi is making sure of that by holding you oh so close.

“Thank you for coming with me”, you say, lifting your head in order to look at him better.

“Yeah well, you left me no choice, didn’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask in a chuckle.

Yoongi sends you a glance, “you wouldn’t have accepted a no, would you?”

“Maybe yeah”, you grin when Yoongi gives you his signature frown. The kind that tells you that he thinks you’re being a little brat right now.

“See? That’s why I came with you, so you can’t run off again”, he murmurs dryly, earning himself a quick smooch on his cheek. He doesn’t let it show, but it flusters him.

“You won’t regret it. We’re almost there”, you tell him, “he’s living with a coven. Their leader’s name is Thea, do you know her?”

“Not well, but yes I do.”

“Does she like you?”

Yoongi shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. I never hurt her.”

“Well, then she’ll like you. She’s really nice. She told me so much about magic. Did you know that there are different types of witches depending on how you gained your power?”

“Yes, I do.”

“That’s so fascinating, don’t you think?”

“Mhm sure”, Yoongi nods his head, making you grin.

“Oh!” you exclaim, “that’s our stop. Get up Boongie, we have to leave”, you tell him once you reached your true end stop, pushing at him gently to get him to move.

Yoongi does so with a little grumble, allowing you to drag him out of the bus and over the street.

“Did you even check for cars?” he asks you.

“Yeah”, you dismiss him, dodging a group of people and then turning on your heels to grin at him.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“It’s just that this feels almost as if we’re on a date”, you snicker, “should we make good on your promise and make out on the Eiffel Tower?”

“What promise?” Yoongi tries to sound annoyed but ends up smiling when you tug him closer and drape his arms around your waist.

“The thing you promised me on the meadow. You know? When you told me how romantic that would be and that you wouldn’t want anything else. Especially not making out in a hotel room.”

“You and me both know that this is not what I said”, Yoongi says, caressing the small of your back softly.

You giggle, scrunching your nose up, “but you wanted to say it, admit it.”

Yoongi merely grumbles a “whatever” then leans in to kiss your cheek, “just get moving, brat.”

He pushes you softly. You snicker, turning back around in order to walk next to him, holding his hand tightly.

“You know that I’m just teasing you, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re a brat.”

“Admit it, you love it.”

Yoongi answers you by giving you a look from the corner of his eyes and tugging you into him wordlessly to drape his arm over your shoulders. You snake your arm around his waist, holding him close that way. You really love this right now. This is what you needed after last night. Frolicking through the alleyways of a small Parisian neighbourhood with Yoongi by your side. You weren’t lying when you told him that this feels like being on a date, because it does. You and Yoongi rarely walk the streets together, especially not as close as you are right now. Maybe getting lost last night had its advantages. You know that come tomorrow, Yoongi won’t be as affectionate in public anymore. You ought to take advantage of it for as long as possible.

You pass by the little shop where the vampire almost ate you last night. It looks so welcoming now that the sun was shining. It is a clothing shop, the clothes seem handmade and of high quality.

“That’s where I bumped into Jimin last night”, you tell him, “I can’t believe how close to the right bus stop I already was. Goddamn, I would have just had to keep walking and then take the right bus again.” You look at Yoongi’s side profile. “That’s also where that vampire almost ate me.”

Yoongi’s eyes are on you instantly, dark in worry and anger.

“Don’t tell me that, it’s making me murderous”, he hisses.

“I’m sorry, gosh I just wanted to tell you”, you gasp, “don’t worry, Yoongi. I’m really fine. Jimin told me that there are different rules in this neighbourhood and that the vampires living here made a treaty with the locals that once it’s dark outside and a human is still out, they can eat them and in return, they leave the locals alone during the day. I think the vampire thought that I was a tourist.”

Yoongi sighs in annoyance, “I don’t know why our kind always has to make those stupid treaties. Can’t they simply control themselves?”

“Agreed, it’s a little weird.”

“It’s more than weird”, he grumbles, “just come and show me where that bastard lives, I don’t like you being here.”

“It’s just down that block. Follow me, it’s not far now”, you say and lead the way with Yoongi holding you oh so tightly, “did you know that this is one of the neighbourhoods still owned by vampires?”

“Yes”, Yoongi says, sending a random woman a murderous glance over the street.

She stops in her steps and gasps, turning on her heels to hurry away.

“Did she just flee?” you ask.

“Yes and if she has something in her brain, she’ll tell her friends to do the same”, he says and as if on command a few people in front of you flee after spotting Yoongi.

“You’re so cool”, you whisper, feeling oh so safe to walk on these streets.

“Mhm”, Yoongi acknowledges you, darkening his eyes as you pass two strangers. They push and pull at each other as they are trying to flee. In the end, they disappear in a narrow alleyway, never to be seen again.

“Do they all know who you are?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously, you’re so goddamn cool”, you whisper with a fluttering heart.

Yoongi smirks lazily, pulling you closer.

Just like this morning, the plaza is filled with witches. Tourists and locals have joined them now that it is bright outside, gathering in front of their booths of goods and chatting about all sorts of things. Maria notices you first, nudging Thea, who makes it her task of welcoming you.

“___” she calls out, hurrying to you with open arms, “you are back so soon. What happened?”

“Hello Thea, I’m back because Jimin bailed on me. Is he here?”

“Yes, upstairs in his room”, Thea answers you then studies Yoongi by your side, “it’s been decades, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, you haven’t changed much Thea”, Yoongi greets her.

She laughs, throwing her head back, “and I see that you became a liar”, she says, giving him a playful smile, “I changed too much. You however, still look the same, but then something seemed to have changed with you”, she steps closer, studying his features so intently that Yoongi feels the need to look to the side, “you’re in love”, she exclaims and smiles, looking at you, “of course, how could I not see this sooner? Oh look at me! I’m getting old, the visions are so clear now!”

Yoongi grumbles something inaudible, looking to the side with burning cheeks. You snicker, giving his waist a little pinch.

“Just lead us to Jimin, Thea”, he tries to sound angry, but the shyness is obvious in his voice.

“He’s upstairs. Come on in, Yoongi.”

Yoongi takes the step through the magical barrier.

“Follow ___ she knows her way. I’m at my booth if you need me”, Thea says and places her hand on Yoongi’s arm. She zones out for just a second then begins to smile, “you will make her very happy and in return find peace. I can see it clearly.”

Yoongi pulls his arm away, eyes widened in shock.

After granting you one sweet smile, Thea turns and hurries back to her booth, catching up Maria on the whole situation.

You glance at Yoongi, who seems to be frozen on the spot. His hand is pressed to his chest, right where his heart once beat. His eyes are big and his lips are parted. He looks beyond flabbergasted.

“Yoongi?”

He flinches, eyes flitting to you. He blinks rapidly.

“Yeah?”

“Are you coming?” you ask him, tugging at his arm gently.

“Yeah uh”, he stumbles after you, still staring at Thea as if he was trying to make sense of what she just told him.

“It’s really cool that she can see the future, isn’t it?”

Yoongi nods his head, looking at you shyly. You smile.

“I believe her, you know?”

He looks away, touching the side of his neck.

You giggle, hugging his arm, “now come on, let’s get Jimin and then get out of here.”

Just as you had thought, Jimin doesn’t open his door when you knock. Even when you tell him that you know that he is in there, the door stays locked.

“Let me”, Yoongi says, pushing you to the side gently to get to work. He wraps his fingers around the doorknob and with one easy twist the lock breaks. He pushes the door open, “after you.”

“You are so cool”, you mumble, entering Jimin’s room.

The latter is staring at you with widened eyes.

“What the hell? How did you do that?” he squeaks out.

“Why did you leave?” you ask him.

“Why are you breaking into my room?” he throws back, eyes flitting to Yoongi who just this moment takes the spot behind you. He stumbles back in shock, lifting his hands in defence, “please no. Don’t hurt me, please”, he gets out, looking scared.

“Well fuck”, Yoongi says, eyes racing over Jimin, “you were right.”

“I know I was”, you say.

Yoongi scoffs.

“Don’t hurt me”, Jimin says, “I’m serious, just leave me alone please. I, I promise not to cause trouble.”

“He’s not here to hurt you”, you say, placing your hand on Yoongi’s chest, “we’re here to get you. You promised me that you would see Tae again.

Jimin looks at your hand on Yoongi’s chest and Yoongi’s arm around your waist.

“No oh my god, seriously?” he groans and rolls his eyes, “now I get why your heart kept racing whenever you thought of Yoongi. You guys are a thing now!”

“We aren’t just a thing. She’s my girlfriend”, Yoongi hisses.

Jimin snorts, giving Yoongi an amused smirk.

“No need to get so feisty Min Yoongi, we won’t want you getting too emotional now”, he teases with a mischievous grin.

“Can I punch him?” Yoongi asks you, “just once I want to punch him.”

Jimin snickers.

“Later”, you say.

“Hey!” Jimin complains, “what the hell?”

You ignore him, “come back like you promised.”

“No, I changed my mind. He’s better off without me.”

“Jimin, come on.”

“No, I made up my mind. I’m staying here.”

You sag your shoulders in defeat.

“Okay good”, Yoongi says, trying to get you to move with a gentle nudge, “seems that he made up his mind, let’s leave princess.”

“Give me a minute, please”, you insist, wiggling yourself out of his soft hold, “Jimin, come on.”

Jimin sneaks a glance at you, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not scared. What are you on about?”

“Of course you’re scared, I can see that you are.”

Jimin shakes his head, scoffing loudly.

“Are you scared that Taehyung won’t want you back anymore?”

Jimin stays silent, tensing his jaw.

“Well, you won’t get your answer here, brooding in self-pity.”

“I’m not pitying myself.”

“No, of course not.”

“Can you leave me alone? Piss off and suck a cock, will you?”

“Jimin”, you speak patiently, “just come with us.”

“No!” he exclaims, whipping around to gawk at you with widened eyes, “I don’t want to come back, I don’t know what to say! I goddamn left him for months. I can’t face him. What if he’ll never forgive me? What if he says that I’ll always stay dead to him?”

“That won’t happen, I promise you. Tae misses you like crazy.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake and he loves you.”

Jimin closes his mouth, lowering his eyes now that your words flustered him.

“Just come back with us. I promise you, everything will be fine.”

Jimin hesitates. He sneaks a glance at Yoongi.

“Do as she says. She knows what she’s talking about”, he says dryly.

Jimin looks away. He lets his eyes run over his depressive, lonely home. The spot where once his heart was stings. What does he have to lose? Grey walls, no person to talk to and an aching yearning for his best friend. The things he would lose seem miniscule in comparison to what he will gain. He exhales loudly.

“Fine”, he gives up, “fine, I’m coming with you.”

And so you leave the plaza together. You and Yoongi hand in hand while Jimin trots next to you. He doesn’t talk a lot, while you and Yoongi talk about Maël. Tomorrow’s plan is still going to happen. You tell Jimin about it, but he seemed too tense in nervousness to really listen. You can’t blame him. You are really nervous yourself. Taehyung is going to get his best friend back. You are so excited and nervous. You really, really hope that he will like the surprise.

Hoseok opens the door for you once you arrive at the apartment. His face lights up the second he sees you.

“___ holy shit, you’re back! I was so fucking worried for you”, he gasps, falling around your neck in a tight hug.

You stumble with a laugh, twisting his shirt for support, “I missed you too, Hobi.”

“Oh my god”, he mumbles into you, lifting you up just so he can squeeze you, “where were you? We tried calling you but you didn’t answer us.”

“I got on the wrong bus and my phone died, it was such a mess”, you say, laughing when Hoseok bounces you in his arms, making little sound effects as he does.

“___!” Seokjin calls out, running to your side, “holy shit, you’re okay. I thought you died!” he says, hugging you and Hoseok.

You laugh, holding him close as best as the position allows you to.

“I’m so happy to be back, I had such a night.”

“Tell us all about it. Where were you? What happened? Are you okay?” Seokjin asks, breaking away in sync with Hoseok so they can look at you.

“I’m okay and you’ll get the full story later, I promise. Guys, I have to see Tae. Is he home?”

“He isn’t home yet. Why?”

Jimin steps closer.

Hoseok and Seokjin stumble back in shock.

“Uh, what the hell is happening?” Hoseok gasps.

“What’s going on?” Seokjin gets out, gawking with such widened eyes that you fear they might actually fall out of his head.

“I’m alive. Surprise”, Jimin says.

“How?!”

“Resurrection spell.”

“But I saw your ashes”, Seokjin tells Jimin as they follow you.

“I know. I’m back now.”

“How?”

“Resurrection spell, I told you.”

“Damn, seriously. Damn.”

“How is that even possible?” Hoseok asks.

“Right?” you agree, “I promise that you guys will get the whole story, but I really have to call Tae now. Let’s go to the living room guys, the hallway’s cold.”

“Yeah sure. Damn, this is actually happening”, Hoseok says, following you with the rest of the group.

Emma is in the living room. She was drawing before, but lifts her head.

“I’m so happy to see you, ___”, Emma says, “we were really worried for you”, her eyes shift to Jimin and widen, “Jimin?” she gasps.

“Emma?” Jimin gasps, “what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here? I thought you died.”

“Resurrection spell. Good stuff.”

“Something like this is possible?”

Jimin nods his head, studying her face.

“You look good”, he says, “eternity suits you.”

She snorts and chuckles, “I can say the same about you. You’re really not dying easily, aren’t you?”

“I told you, I’ll always find a way to survive.”

“Clearly you do”, Emma says and then shifts her eyes to Seokjin. He is putting a protecting (almost jealous) arm around her shoulder, eyeing Jimin with suspicion.

“I’m back!” Taehyung calls from the hallway just moments later.

“Perfect timing”, you say and run out of the living room.

“Darling”, you call out.

Taehyung lifts his head and smiles, “darling! What a wonderful way to be greeted”, he says, closing the distance between you and him to kiss you.

“Tae”, you don’t let him kiss for long. You are too excited, “Tae, I met someone last night. I need to show you.”

Taehyung cocks his right brow up in question.

“Follow me. Come”, you say and tug him with you.

“Wait, not so fast”, Taehyung follows you with a fond chuckle.

You enter the living room. Taehyung joins you a moment later.

“Who did you meet, darling?” he asks.

“Look”, you say, pointing at Jimin.

Taehyung looks and stumbles back, almost collapsing on the ground if Hoseok hadn’t caught him under his pits before that could happen.

“Jimin?” the word barely wants to leave Taehyung’s throat.

“Hey.”

Taehyung storms to Jimin, who welcomes him with open arms and teary eyes. Just seconds later and he falls as Taehyung throws him to the ground and moments later begins punching his face.

“I hate you. You bastard! All this time you were alive! Why would you leave me?! I needed you! I fucking needed you!” Taehyung screams, crying the hottest tears as his face is contorted in heartbreaking betrayal.

You expected anything but this. As did Jimin, who does nothing to fight Taehyung off as shock keeps him paralysed.

“Taehyung stop!” you gasp, wanting to step in between, but getting stopped by Yoongi.

“Don’t. You’ll only get hurt.”

“I took your punishment! Hear me?!” Taehyung is crying miserably, punching his own knuckles bloody, “I was rotting away in prison while you were alive?! My heart has been broken for months! Why would you do this to me?!”, he wails loudly, “I hate you so much! You bastard traitor! I hate you!”

“I’m sorry Taetae, I’m so sorry.”

“I needed you!” Taehyung screams the word, picking Jimin up by his collar just to shake him, “why did you never come looking for me?!”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t?!”

Taehyung punches him. He punches him so hard that Jimin can’t move for a moment.

“I hate you!” he sobs and punches him, “I hate you so much!”

Jimin groans quietly, trying and failing to speak. Taehyung is blinded by his own emotions, taking out months of heartbreak on Jimin’s face.

“Stop that”, Yoongi stops him, dragging him away, “you’re going to kill him. “

“Let go of me!” Taehyung squirms in Yoongi’s hold.

“Seriously, I’m going to break your spine if you keep moving around”, Yoongi warns.

“Leave me alone!”

But Taehyung is angry, heartbroken, drowning in the feelings of being betrayed. Just this night, he is stronger than Yoongi. Just this night, he manages to rip himself free of his grasp and just this night, you have to watch as Yoongi flies through the room before colliding with the wall so harshly his entire rib cage shatters.

“What the fuck?” you squeak out.

That’s when Taehyung disappears, pushing aside a confused Jungkook, who just came downstairs to check what all this yelling is about. Jungkook falls to his knees, groaning softly.

“What the hell is happening?” he gasps, watching Jimin bleed all over the carpet while you are sobbing and cupping Yoongi’s pain-contorted face. This is the most confusing situation he ever walked in on.

“Yoongi my baby, oh god Yoongi”, you sob, grasping his face tightly.

“That’s….why…I…told you…to…stay….back”, he presses out before having to groan in agony.

“Yoongi, I’m so sorry”, you fall around his neck, “this is all my fault. I’m so stupid. Why did I think this could work? I’m so fucking dumb.”

“Stop crying…I’m okay.”

“No, you’re hurt. It’s my fault.”

“Hush, it’s almost healed.”

You lift your head, dripping tears all over his face. He gives you a reassuring smile.

“It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, feeling your lower lip tremble.

He sits up with your help. He doesn’t need your help, but you want to help him either way. Once he is up, you keep your arms around him, making sure that he is supported.

“Don’t move too much, you’ll make it worse.”

“Hey, stop crying”, he says softly, wiping your tears away, “I’m seriously okay. I healed.”

“Oh”, you press out, hugging him tightly.

He hugs you back, caressing the back of your head lovingly.

“It’s okay princess, I’m okay.”

“Can someone please tell me what is going on here?” Jungkook joins the conversation, staring at Jimin with big eyes.

The latter is in the midst of sitting up with Hoseok’s help, sending Jungkook an icy glare before staring at the floor. His face was covered in his own blood, but seems to be in the middle of healing.

“I’m alive”, he says coldly, “you can see how Tae took that fact”, he lifts his gaze to you, “he’ll be so happy to see you. That’s what you told me. He was oh so happy, wasn’t he?”

“You’ll take on another tone if you speak to her”, Yoongi warns.

“I just got my face punched in repeatedly, so excuse me if I’m being pissy”, Jimin says and spits one of his teeth on the floor, “fuck”, he grunts, stumbling to his feet. With way too much pride in his eyes, he straightens his back, lifting his head as high as possible.

“You good?” you ask him.

“Do I look good?” Jimin says, pointing at his face. His bashed open left eye is still in the middle of healing, only slowly coming out from the inside of his skull. Truly it is horrid to look at.

“No. Sorry for asking.”

“Urgh”, Jimin groans and turns his back to you, “what?” he hisses at Jungkook.

“How the fuck are you here? I saw your ashes.”

“I rose from them again.”

“Tzt what? Like a phoenix?”

“Basically.”

“How?”

“Witches. All thanks to ___ bothering Yoongi with releasing Tae that day and distracting him. They did some witchy teleportation shit and gathered my ashes.”

“How the hell did they even know that you died?”

“Visions. They told them I bit the dust. Well, became the dust in a literal sense.”

“Hah yeah”, Jungkook studies him from head to toe, “I have to be honest with you, I can’t say that I’m happy to see you again.”

“Trust me, I feel the same.”

“Good”, Jungkook says dryly then turns to you. Life returns to his eyes, “I’m so happy that you are back, ___”, he says, hurrying to you so he can take your hands.

“Me too Kookie”, you tell him, squeezing his hands gently.

“Do you think Tae is alright? He seemed really upset”, Emma asks.

“I don’t know”, you say, looking at Yoongi for help.

“I’ll check on him”, he says.

“I’m coming with you”, you say, hurrying after him.

“What about me?” Jimin asks.

“Stay until we know more”, you say, “I’m not giving up, so please stay.”

Jimin nods his head and touches his face, “ah fuck, hurts”, he murmurs.

“I can look at it if you want to”, Emma offers and then you drown out their conversation.

Yoongi takes your hand, “come. He’s still here.”

“Is he upset?”

You get your answer by the loud sob cutting through the air. The sound of something shattering follows.

It came from upstairs.

“No Tae”, you gasp, running to get to him quicker.

Yoongi follows you, taking two steps at a time.

Sobbing. Loud and filled with pain. Shattering of something else.

Taehyung appears in your vision. Hunched over and kneeling on the floor with his knuckles bleeding from punching in the mirror. Pieces of it were still stuck in him.

“Stop please! Stop please!” he begs.

“Darling”, you gasp, “what happened? You’re hurt.”

“Stay away!” Taehyung screams. He doesn’t want to scream but he can’t stop it from happening. “I’m going to rip you apart if you come any closer.”

You stop. Yoongi steps in instantly.

“Hey there Tae, it’s okay. I’m here now”, he says.

“Stay away! I’ll hurt you!”

“It’s okay. I’m here, you can hurt me. It’s okay”, Yoongi assures him, coming closer in slow steps.

Taehyung growls and sobs. He tries to look scary by flashing his fangs, but he ends up looking like a scared, cornered animal, staring at Yoongi with a grimace of pain.

“Talk to me, Tae. Talk to me.”

“I’m going to kill him. How could he do this to me?” Taehyung is yelling, “I thought that he was dead. I grieved. Suffered. How could he leave me?!”

“I know, Tae. It hurts so much.”

“I wanted to die each and every day and all this time he was alive? He let me suffer. He, he- oh god”, he chokes out and then he sobs, “why didn’t he come back to me?” he sobs so miserably that he can barely even breathe, fighting for his right to air, “why did he leave me alone for so long?”

He is shaking, wheezing whilst trying to sob, coughing out curses.

Yoongi kneels down in front of Taehyung. He cups his face and brushes his thumbs over his temples.

“Don’t worry, Taehyungie. Hyung’s here now”, he soothes him.

You know that he is currently helping Taehyung calm down by touching his temples. And seeing how Taehyung actually calms down, he wanted it to happen. After all, this type of mind control only works if the receiving end consents to it.

“Hyung’s here now, Taetae. I’m right here”, Yoongi whispers, shushing him softly.

Taehyung’s breathing slows down gradually. With each caress of his temples, his once suffocating emotions become easier to bear. He felt like dying in pain, but Yoongi helped him, coming at the right time to prevent the worst from happening.

“The worst’s behind you, Tae. I’m here for you, right here”, Yoongi speaks gently, running his thumbs under Taehyung’s teary eyes.

Taehyung whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hyung”, he squeaks and sobs, “hyung, it hurts so much.”

“I know, but I’m here now. Yeah?”

Taehyung nods his head, “why would he do this to me?” he presses out, voice trembling, “I want to die, it hurts so much.”

“I know Tae, I know. Lean on me, yeah? Trust me to make it better, yeah?” Yoongi whispers in the softest voice, caressing Taehyung’s temple with loving hands.

You kneel down next to them, reaching for Taehyung’s trembling hands. He flinches, looking at you with fearful eyes. He calms down when he sees that it is you touching him.

“Can I remove the shards?” you ask him.

Taehyung looks at them. He seems confused and surprised by their presence.

“Yes”, he gets out. He doesn’t react as you begin pulling out the shards, crying softly as Yoongi continues drying his tears.

“We’re here, Tae. You’re not alone”, he continues whispering, holding Taehyung’s face safely.

At some point, Taehyung stops sobbing to instead whimper. He looks into Yoongi’s eyes.

“Why did he do this to me?” he croaks.

“He was scared of your reaction.”

“My reaction? I grieved him. Each passing day felt like hell.”

“I know, Tae hey”, Yoongi tilts his head up, “I know that and Jimin knows that too.”

“He grieved you too, my sweetest”, you say.

Taehyung looks at you with heartbreak in his sad eyes.

“So why did he abandon me?”

“I didn’t abandon you.”

You look at the door. Jimin is here, looking at Taehyung with nervous eyes and fumbling with his thumbs. His face is healed again, his blood wiped away.

“I spent two thirds of my new life having to recover. It’s actually difficult as fuck to return from the dead, so my body was fucked. I couldn’t even leave bed, let alone talk or eat.”

Taehyung sniffles, sobbing softly.

“I, I really wanted to be with you again, but I was embarrassed, just…” Jimin falters, “just look at me. I’m a fucking joke. I lost all my strength and look like fucking shit.”

“You think I care?” Taehyung presses out, “all I needed was you.”

“I know, shit, I know.”

“I hate you so much. How could you do this to me?” Taehyung sobs.

“Do you…really hate me?” Jimin asks with a trembling lower lip.

“I don’t know! Why would you ask me that?! Why did you leave me?!” Taehyung yells, voice trembling and barely wanting to come out.

“I’m so sorry for leaving you, Taetae. I fucking-”, Jimin tears up, “-I fucking thought of you each day. I missed you so much. Please believe me.”

“Jimin”, Taehyung sobs loudly stumbling to his feet with your and Yoongi’s help. He leaves the two of you behind him as the only thing he can see is Jimin.

Within a second he is by his side. Within a second he has him against his chest. Within another second Jimin hugs him back. Taehyung cries miserably, Jimin tries not to but soaks Taehyung’s shirt in silent tears. They are together again. Their dreams actually came true. They are finally reunited.

“I missed you so much”, Taehyung wails, “oh god, you are real. You are real.”

“I am. I’m real. I love you Taetae, I love you so much”, Jimin laughs and sobs and hugs his best friend as if it was his last day on earth.

But it wasn’t his last day. It was just the beginning. They are reunited and life can finally begin again. Taehyung tightens his arms around Jimin while the latter makes sure that he can never ever escape the hug again.

“I love you too. Oh Jimin.”

“You have to tell me everything that happened, Taetae. I want to know everything”, Jimin says and laughs and sobs and hugs his Taehyung.

“Oh Jimin, I have so much to tell you. Oh god, I can’t stop crying”, Taehyung sobs and overtaken by happiness, he lifts Jimin off the ground just to twirl around.

Jimin laughs loudly, clutching Taehyung in the tightest hug.

“Come”, you tell Yoongi and push him gently, “let’s give them their moment.”

“Wait. Are you crying?” Yoongi gasps, stumbling out of Taehyung’s room.

He twirls once outside, cupping your face, “hey, princess. Why are you crying?”

“I’m just so happy. This is everything Tae wanted. Oh god, I’m so happy”, you say, crying the happiest tears for them.

Yoongi’s worried eyes soften. He brushes his thumb over your cheeks.

“I’m happy for him too. Losing your happiness is terrible, so I’m happy that he has Jimin again.”

“Me too. I still can’t believe that it is real. Jimin’s actually back”, you say and smile, “do you think that things will change for the better now?”

“Come. Let’s check on the others first”, Yoongi says, leading you downstairs where the others are currently gathered in the living room.

They look at you.

“What the hell is going on?” Jungkook asks, “why is Jimin back? I saw his ashes.”

“Resurrection spell. I never saw it work before, so I’m impressed that it did”, Yoongi says.

“Resurrection spell”, Hoseok repeats, “so you’re telling me that all this time I was scared of dying for nothing? We just need a witch to resurrect us again?”

“Calm down. Didn’t I just say that I never saw it work before?”

“It worked splendidly for Jimin”, Hoseok says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, because he had a good witch to take care of it. Ninety percent of the witches you meet will not be able to resurrect you again and you will stay dead”, Yoongi says, giving Hoseok a nod of his head, “so be careful and try not to die. Got it?”

“Of course, I’m always careful.”

You claim the empty spot next to Jungkook on the couch. Yoongi sits down next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

“So what does this mean for us? Is he part of our group now?” Seokjin asks.

“If he wants to join us. I doubt that Tae will let him leave again”, Yoongi says.

“I’m sure, he won’t”, Hoseok says and points upstairs, “I bet they have so much catching up to do.”

“I’m sure they do”, Yoongi says, “I still don’t trust him, I’m saying it how it is.”

“Me neither”, Jungkook mumbles with furrowed brows.

“Yeah, honestly? Me neither”, Hoseok confesses, “it’s a little weird that he suddenly showed up. Don’t you guys think?”

“I don’t think that he planned on showing up if I’m being honest”, you say, “we bumped into each other accidentally.”

“That’s still wild to me. Out of all the people you could have bumped into, it was Jimin.”

“Right? Trust me when I tell you that we were both as surprised as you guys. At first I thought that I was hallucinating from the panic of getting lost but nope it was really him. Then a vampire almost ate me.”

“What?!” the guys exclaim.

“My thoughts exactly”, Yoongi mumbles.

“But then Jimin saved me from her and I stayed at his place”, you finish your sentence, “so I’m positive that we have nothing to worry about. He could have very well killed me and continued with his life, but he decided to not only save me from a vampire but also to protect me for the night and he took me back to Yoongi and even protected me from a group of vampires on the bus.”

“Well damn, I didn’t expect that from him.”

“But see? Let’s not expect the worst already and give him a chance and if you can’t do it for Jimin, can we at least try for Tae? Please?”

The others exchange a look.

“Fine”, Hoseok gives in, “we’ll try for Tae.”

The others nod their heads.

“Thank you.”

“But if he puts you in any kind of danger, I can’t guarantee for anything”, Yoongi adds.

“Then let’s not expect the worst and support him on his journey of becoming better, yeah?”

Yoongi studies your face.

“Mhm?” you stress, caressing his knuckles, “can you do that, my prince?”

“Fine”, he gives in with a loud sigh, “I’ll give him a chance.”

“Thank you, that’s very nice of you.”

“Mhm”, he acknowledges you and nods his head, leaning back against the couch with a defeat sigh.

“I never thought that I’d meet Jimin again”, Emma says, “he is my sire.”

“Seokjin told us. It must be weird to meet him again”, you say.

“A little, but I’m also excited. I want to ask him how he is doing and thank him”, Emma says and looks at Seokjin, “because he turned me, I lived long enough to meet my Jinnie again”, she says and smiles.

“Don’t say that, oh my god”, Seokjin whispers, covering his pink ears with his hands.

Emma giggles and leans in to steal a kiss from him, only making his blush grow.

“You are so adorable, my moon.”

“My tulip, come on, I’ll blush even more” Seokjin says in a whiney voice, giving her a cute pout.

Emma coos and squishes his cheeks, stealing another kiss from him.

“Wah, you two are so cute”, Hoseok gushes, “I support it. You guys are in my top three couples now.”

“Your top three couples?”

“Mhm. ___ and Yoongi are number one. I’m your biggest fan”, Hoseok says, sending you a thumbs up.

Yoongi chuckles, caressing your knee while his eyes flit to his lap shyly.

“And who’s number two?”

“Emma and Jin. Number two best couple.”

They chuckle.

“And who’s number three, hyung?” Jungkook asks.

“My parents. They were the best”, Hoseok smiles in melancholy, “yeah, they really were”, he lets out a loud sigh, only to begin smiling a second later, “seriously, everyone’s reunited again. That’s so funky.”

“Totally”, you agree, “now nothing can separate us again. Right? You guys are gonna stay with us.”

“Of course, hello? We’re a family”, Hoseok says to which Jungkook nods his head passionately. Seokjin and Emma agree with a fond smile while Yoongi leans in wordlessly to kiss your cheek.

“You’re so cute”, he whispers so only you can hear, stealing another kiss just to make sure that you know that he appreciates you with his entire heart.

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