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laughing-with-god · 1 year ago

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These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

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He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #yandere au #bts #bangtan boys #male yandere #taehyung fanfic #yandere taehyung x reader #kpop fanfic #taehyung fluff #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction

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justwinginglife · 2 months ago

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger

Happy Birthday to my friends @ouiouimochi and @hoshinasblade. Here is a lil bday fic I wrote for yall. Love youuuu!

After two years of dating, you thought you knew almost everything that there was to know about Soshiro Hoshina. You thought you knew the way he took his coffee, how early he liked to get up, how many laps he liked to do as a warm-up; he was a man of routine and you had his routine memorized. So you thought there were no more surprises in store for you.

But then, one day, at a particularly monotonous cross-divisional meeting, your beloved Soshiro had nothing better to do than fidget with the ring he’d stolen from your pointer finger and when the meeting ended, before he bounded out the back door, eager for escape from his boredom, he casually slipped your ring back onto your finger.

He was long gone before you could confront him about the fact that he put the ring on the wrong goddamn finger.

You sat in the conference room, stunned, just staring at the gem on your ring finger, just wondering if he’d known what he’d done, just wondering if he was the type of man to drop subtle clues like this or if the nonchalant manner in which he’d done it should’ve hinted that he had no such thoughts on his mind.

In the span of a few seconds, with this one single action, he’d consumed your every waking moment. Did this mean something to him? Did he secretly have a proposal up his sleeve? Or did he just pick a finger, any finger, to deposit the ring on? Did he even look when he put the ring on? If you asked him about it, would you get nothing more than a chuckle and a disbelieving shake of his head? You spent hours trying to decipher the puzzle that he’d laid out for you, piecing together every bit of information that you knew about him. And after two years, you realized it still wasn’t enough. You wondered if any amount of time with him could’ve prepared you for the shock -and the joy- of him gracing your ring finger with a ring. You wondered if he was laughing to himself somewhere, giddy about all the turmoil he’d caused. You wondered if you were overthinking this, if maybe he hadn’t thought about his action at all. Years of knowing the man, and suddenly you knew nothing about him. At this point, the only thing you were certain of was that you were never taking the ring off again, at least not until he replaced it with his own. And if that took years, you could both laugh about this silly situation together later.

But for now, you decided to enlist the help of your friends.

Pretty soon Okonogi, Nakanoshima, Shinonome, and even Captain Ashiro began to file through the doors of the conference room- the same conference in which you’d had your earlier meeting, the same conference room that you still had not left since the incident.

Ashiro cleared her throat. “Alright, troops. It is 1500 hours and the meeting to decide what on God’s green earth is going on in Hoshina’s brain has commenced. I’m handing the spotlight over to our number one data analyst, Konomi Okonogi- take it away. What have you got for us?”

Okonogi pushed her glasses up in all seriousness. “Thank you, Captain. Let’s review the facts. At 1200 hours, the aforementioned suspect placed a ring, an object with marital ties, on the victim’s ring finger when it had previously been located on the victim’s index finger. Now the question is, would someone as disciplined as the Vice Captain knowingly engage in this act, aware of all that it could perpetrate? Now my gut tells me that because the Vice Captain is well versed in traditional customs having been raised in a traditional household, there is no denying that he would have to know the implication behind placing a ring on the ring finger and therefore, did it on purpose. Do I hear any arguments?”

Shinonome raised her hand. “Look, I don’t know the guy as well as the rest of you, but isn’t it possible that maybe he’s just a dude and didn’t remember which finger he took the ring from? And did anyone else see that he was rushing out the door? Maybe he just picked one at random, in a hurry to get out.” She concluded, shrugging.

Nakanoshima shook her head. “Have you ever thought that maybe he was just making it seem like he was rushing out the door so that when he quickly shoved the ring on, it would seem less obvious that he had intended to put it on her ring finger all along? I mean, the Vice Captain is like a child sometimes, but I’ve never seen him fidget before. Maybe he took the ring from her in the first place, under the guise of fidgeting, always intending to put it on her ring finger.”

Okonogi frowned. “But now that you mention his childish behavior, would the same man who proposed allowing Kafka into the Third Division merely as ‘comedic relief’ really be capable of masterminding such a plot? Nakanoshima clearly didn’t like the thought of her argument being disproved, because she was already standing up out of her chair, fired up for another round of debate. “But what if he wants you to think him childish, to think him incapable of devising this scheme, are we really going to let him get away with this on a technicality?”

“Here’s a thought- why don’t you just ask him?” Shinonome voiced aloud.

All chatter silenced as everyone’s eyes blazed their way through her skull.

She coughed. “Okay. So that’s a resounding no. And why aren’t we asking him?”

“Because we’re smart enough to figure this out on our own,” Nakanoshima argued.

“Because we don’t want to make things awkward in their relationship if we’re wrong.” Okonogi chimed in.

“Because I don’t want to get laughed at.” You finished.

Ashiro nodded thoughtfully. “You all bring up valid points. How about we revisit the topic from the beginning, start fresh, start with what we know for a fact.”

You sighed, exasperated, “We already did that earlier, and look where it got us. It got us nowhere.”

“But it doesn’t hurt to try again. Maybe we missed something the first time. Come on, don’t give up, let’s figure this out together. We’ve got all night, after all.” Ashiro said encouragingly.

“I just don’t understand- what is going on in his head? Does he even know how much time this is taking up??” As soon as you said the words, something clicked in your brain.

“Captain Ashiro, how are you available right now?”

Ashiro blinked, not understanding your meaning. “I’m sorry, could you explain what you mean by that?”

“You’re a Captain. You’re always busy. And yet, you just… came when I called. Almost immediately.”

Ashiro blushed, “That’s because we’re good friends and I wanted to help.”

You stepped closer to her, eyes like a hawk, examining every inch of her reactions. “Yeah, but you said you had all night. This just happened today, how could you have cleared your schedule for the entire night? Unless you knew this was going to happen.”

She rolled her eyes, but all you could focus on was the shift of her gaze away from yours. “That’s ridiculous, I have the night free because I wanted to have the night free. Because, as you mentioned, I’m the Captain and I’m always busy so I needed a night off to rest. Now I’m wasting my free time trying to help you, and here you are, accusing me of masterminding this whole operation.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well? Are you?”

All eyes stared at her expectantly.

“No, of course I’m not.” She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Where’s Soshiro?” You asked, starting to feel a burst of adrenaline in your chest.

She shifted her stance. “I don’t know. How would I know?”

“You always know. He’s your Vice Captain; it’s your job to know. What if you need him?”

The girls had started to pick up on what you were insinuating and soon, you’d all formed a circle around poor Captain Ashiro.

If she could’ve traded this situation in for a battlefield, she would’ve in a heartbeat. She’d never had close girl friends growing up, and she wasn’t used to this kind of peer pressure. She could look a Kaiju dead in the eye and show no fear, but four girls with expectant eyes? It was only a matter of time before she caved in.

“Ashiro, come on, we’re all good friends, you said so yourself, right? Tell us the juicy gossip. What’s going on with Hoshina? Where’s he at? What’s he doing?” Nakanoshima inched closer.

“Yeah, Captain, it’s just us. You can tell us, we won’t tell Hoshina.” Okonogi made her way beside Nakanoshima.

“You know something, don’t you, Captain Ashiro? What is it that you know?” Shinonome questioned, joining the fray.

You didn’t even have to say a single word more, your friends had done enough.

One helpless look at you and soon, Ashiro was sighing, slumping into a chair as she massaged the stress-induced wrinkles out of her forehead. “I suppose this is why you’re a Platoon Leader, Y/N. Nothing gets past you.” She looked at her watch. “Oh well, he better be ready by now. It’s about time anyway. He’s at the pier.”

You saluted her. Then, for extra measure, gave her a wink. “Knew I could count on you, thanks Captain!” And with that, you took off running.

Your lungs ached and the salt-stained air stung your cheeks as you made your way closer to the ocean, but you pressed on, desperate to find him. You reached the pier as the sun started to dip below the horizon. For a moment, you thought you’d misunderstood which pier she’d meant, as the lights had been dimmed and this particular pier, which was always active and bustling with crowds, had suddenly fallen quiet.

Then something caressed your ankle, fluttering by as you stepped onto the boardwalk. It was a flower petal. And another. And another. After following the trail of petals, all the lights along the boardwalk flickered back on, music floating through the air, the scent of fresh food riding the breeze, as though they’d known you were coming.

And there, at the end of the dock, in a dashing suit, was your love.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I work fast and the pier workers are easily bribed,” Soshiro joked as you made your way to him, admiring the glimmering lights and the scattered rose petals.

“So you roped the Captain into your schemes, how very devious of you.” You laughed, taking his hands in yours.

“To be fair, she was supposed to buy me significantly more time than she did, so I feel pretty proud with what I’ve got so far.”

“And what have you got so far?” You teased.

“You’ll see. Come on.” He led you through the deserted boardwalk that had been lit up and over decorated, through stalls of vendors with food made fresh for you and only you, past carnival games that you were now sure he’d probably rigged so you could win, and the thought that he must’ve spent at least half his salary to buy out the entire place for the night made you tear up. All this for a date. What a man. And what a lucky woman you were.

When he finally led you to the Ferris Wheel, you couldn’t hide your excitement anymore. You squealed like a little girl, and even pulled ahead of him to dash into one of the pods. He chuckled and followed close behind you, his hand never leaving yours.

For a moment, you sat in silence together, admiring the view as you slowly rose up into the night sky.When you reached the top, the Wheel stopped and your brows furrowed in confusion.

Then he got down on one knee.

“My love. I remember our first mission together, we were fighting a Kaiju right off of this beach and when we’d finished, you’d begged the Captain to let you ride this same Ferris wheel, practically on your hands and knees.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Just once you said, you just wanted to ride the wheel once. And I thought, god, this rookie has some nerve- to be drenched in blood and guts and still walk right up to the Captain, just to ask for something as silly as that. And then I thought to myself, god, she's gonna have me wrapped around her finger, one of these days, I can just feel it. And one of these days I’m going to take her to the top of the Ferris Wheel. I’m going to make all her wishes come true. I’m going to make her mine. I’m going to make her happy.” He squeezed your hands. “I’m sorry I’m two years late on the Ferris Wheel, but I’ve never once stopped trying to make you happy, and I swear if you’ll let me, I’ll never stop making you happy, I’ll never stop trying to make all your wishes come true. So, darling, will you please marry me? Make my wish come true?”

He popped open the ring box, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“You think after bribing an entire boardwalk full of people and coercing the Captain of the Third Division into aiding and abetting your little scheme that there’s even a sliver of a chance that I’d say no to you? Well think again because Soshiro Hoshina, you are stuck with me for life. I will marry you as many times as it takes for you to know that I’m completely and utterly in love with you; I am completely and utterly yours.”

“I know, I just like hearing you say it.” He teased, bending down to replace the ring on your finger with the new engagement ring. “It really took you that long to figure out I put the ring there on purpose, huh? Getting slow in your old age.” He chuckled as he rested his head in your lap, admiring the ring glimmering on your finger.

You flicked his head. “Hey, isn’t that why you love me, because I take my time to think things through?” You pouted.

He laughed again, kissing your knees in apology. “I do love you. More than anything.”

Then he paused, looking over the edge for the first time tonight (he’d been watching you the whole way up).

“Now let’s get off of this Ferris Wheel before I discover I have a fear of heights.”

#soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 #anime #hoshina #oneshot #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #anime fanfic #hoshina soshiro x reader #fluff #han's library

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flurrys-creativity · 1 year ago

Text

Warrior

Pairing: Choi San (Ateez) x Fem!OC Yeong-Ja; Genre: Joseon AU, Historical AU, Fantasy, Shifter AU, Werewolf AU, strangers to lovers, romance, angst, fluff, SMUT; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: concubines, hints of misogyny, somewhat sold off, inaccurate historical stuff, San from his special performance warrior video including the tattoos, shifter San with a very demanding inner wolf, mentions of sex, getting a tattoo the old style (which is probably inaccurate as well), mentions of uproars, death (minor ocs), san murdering them, graphic violence, graphic description of injuries, san being chained to his bed, SMUT -> rough sex, unprotected sex, marking, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, several positions, breeding kink, knotting, mating, pet names, mentions of softer sex; Wordcount: 11.482

Summary: Every time emperor San won a battle against foreign forces he got gifted another concubine - another person, who’d be scared of him. Though when he met the newest addition in his palace, he realised Yeong-Ja was everything but scared.

A/N: Ever since that special performance video of Warriors by San came out, I'm a changed person!! I wrote this chonky one within one weekend while playing the video on loop.

Yeong-Ja got ushered into a room by several servants, who told her to stay there until the emperor would arrive. Before she could even ask when that would be the door got shut right in front of her nose, leaving her alone.

With a heavy sigh Yeong-Ja turned around and took a closer look at the room in front of her. While it definitely appeared luxurious - the room was basically as big as her old home - but except for a large bed there wasn’t much inside the room. It didn’t even have windows. There was only another sliding door, which probably led to the private quarters of the emperor.

Yeong-Ja stood in the middle of the room unsure what she was supposed to do besides waiting for the emperor. Should she stand somewhere specific or sit on the bed? She knew what was expected of her yet she couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact she had become a concubine in the span of only a few hours.

That morning Yeong-Ja had woken up and gone out to town since the market was open and she had hoped to buy a few things for her family. So while she bargained with one of the sellers, she got approached by a tall man in fancy clothes.

“Excuse me”, he said with an awkward smile, “I’d like to have a conversation with someone, who speaks for you.”

Yeong-Ja raised an eyebrow, forgetting the little quarrel with the seller as she turned towards the man and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I’m able to speak for myself, sir.”

A twinkle in his eyes and the soft chuckle revealed his amusement even after he focused himself again with a short shake of his head. “I’d still like to inform your husband or any kind of relative that you’re chosen to become a concubine.”

For a split second everything around Yeong-Ja stopped. She stared at the stranger with wide eyes, needing several seconds to register what he just said. Once the heaviness of the message fought through and settled into her mind, her whole world started to crumble. She nodded almost mechanically as she asked the man to follow her, cutting her time at the market short.

Even when she brought him to his parents and sat beside them in the small dining area, somewhat listening to the words he had to say, her thoughts had travelled to a different place. While Yeong-Ja wasn’t the only woman at her age unmarried, it was rather uncommon. Her headstrong attitude and the fact she came from a poorer family were the reasons why she hadn’t been married yet. Though it hadn’t been a problem in her family, Yeong-Ja was incredibly thankful for that since she loved her independence.

“If you want to take something with you, Miss Yeong-Ja, now would be the time to get it.” The stranger, who had himself introduced as Park Seonghwa the head counsellor of the emperor, looked at her. A hint of pity and understanding swirling in his dark eyes.

Her mother had followed her to the sleeping area, laying a hand on her shoulder. She had tears in her eyes as she pulled her daughter into her arms. “You’ll have a better life at the palace”, she whispered and caressed the back of the younger woman. “Please take this with you.” With that her mother let go of her and walked over to a small cabinet. She pulled a box out from the farthest end and turned back to Yeong-Ja. “This was a gift from your great grandfather to your great grandmother. It’s supposed to be a lucky item. Wear it to receive the blessings -” she swallowed the lump inside her throat, her voice sounding choked up - “and to remember us.”

Yeong-Ja hiccuped as she accepted the gift with trembling fingers. She looked down at the fine silver necklace in her hands, seeing one turquoise stone added as a pendant. She closed her hands and clutched them against her chest, whispering her thanks while tears streamed down her cheeks.

Now inside the luxurious bedroom Yeong-Ja fumbled with the dozens of layers of clothes to reach for the pendant. She wrapped her fingers around the turquoise and felt the calm energy spreading throughout her body. With no way back she could only look ahead.

She noticed a bowl of water and several towels on a nightstand close to the bed. Yeong-Ja walked closer to the bowl, leaning over it and staring at her own reflection. She barely recognised herself and a frown appeared on her features.

That ghost-like face looking back at her wasn’t the woman she wanted to be. While the make-up looked magnificent and had been applied with the utmost care by the servants, Yeong-Ja couldn’t help herself but to hate it. She knew noble women liked to appear paler to show they didn’t work on fields in the sun, but Yeong-Ja was born and raised on such fields. She had a natural tan skin and any other colour made her look sick.

Without a second thought Yeong-Ja pushed the fabrics up her arms and dunked her hands into the bowl, cupping them and splashing water into her face. She rubbed her face meticulously and hoped to get rid of all the white make-up plastered on her skin.

Once she deemed her face clean, Yeong-Ja grabbed a towel and patted her skin dry. Her face already felt much lighter without all the make-up. Although the minute Yeong-Ja looked down at her body and saw all the layers of fancy fabric she felt like a fool again. Her face didn’t match this dress anymore. Yeong-Ja pursed her lips and brushed the sleeves of the fabric back down, feeling uncomfortable in all these layers. The young woman looked over her shoulder to the two closed doors, contemplating whether she should risk it and change or just stay put.

She swallowed and tried to listen intently to the sounds outside of the room. When she wasn’t able to pick up any words or steps, she decided to take the risk.

Yeong-Ja fumbled with the fabrics and the knots that held everything in place. It took her every ounce of self control to stay patient and not rip everything apart. Once she finally got rid of every layer and only stood in the finest silk underwear in the middle of the room, Yeong-Ja thought she was able to breathe again.

She bent down and started folding all the fabrics, placing them neatly in front of the nightstand. Yeong-Ja only kept the outer piece and a few pins. She draped the fabric over her body and secured it with the pins.

When Yeong-Ja was brought into the bedroom, the emperor - Choi San - arrived at the throne room. He barely kept the sigh inside his lungs when he saw Seonghwa waiting for him.

“Another victory, huh?” Seonghwa stepped next to San, trying to contain his grin. He could read San like a book and knew how annoyed his emperor was already.

“Which means another concubine.” San plopped down on the throne. He pushed his hair back with his hand before he fixed his eyes on the older man. “Why is the court getting a concubine every time I come back from a battle? They’re running away in the end.”

“Now, now. You make it out as if every concubine has fled so far. You still have a thriving harem, San.”

San only rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, resting his chin on his hand. “Anything else I should know before I tell the servants to bring the new concubine to their quarters?” San only wanted to get a bath in peace, wanted to wash off all the grime and blood from the battlefield. He needed to rest and regain his strength again. San had used almost all of his power to keep the intruders in check and only with the help of his wolf was he able to overpower them.

“This one is different. Take at least a look at her.”

San zoned back into the conversation and shook his head. Whatever Seonghwa had told him just now, San only heard the last two sentences. He grimaced but decided to wave it off for now. With a dismissive hand gesture San got up from the throne and walked to the hidden door behind it. “I’ll think about it”, he told Seonghwa before he bid his goodbye and followed the wooden path towards his private quarters.

A servant rushed to his side, offering their assistance. They nodded in understanding with each order - preparing a bath and bringing the new concubine to their quarters - they received.

San opened the door to his private bedroom and closed it right behind him again. He trotted towards the bathroom and started stripping out of his clothes, which needed to be washed as well.

A sudden scream followed by frantic yelling, interrupted San in his undressing. Without regard to his appearance the emperor rushed towards the disturbance. He slammed the door to the concubine bedroom open and hurriedly stepped inside, his eyes jumping from corner to corner. San was ready to fight but except for a servant and a woman he never saw before he couldn’t sense any danger. “Wha-”

“I am so sorry, my emperor. I didn’t mean to disturb you with my yelling. I just wanted to take the concubine to her quarters when I saw what she did.” The servant bowed deeply as they apologised over and over again.

“Please”, San only said in a stern voice, successfully shutting up the servant. He looked around the room again, trying to understand what the servant meant. He inhaled deeply when a sudden wave hit his senses.

‘Smells good’, his wolf hummed, forcing San to inhale again. He even closed his eyes, focusing solely on the sweet scent invading his nose. When he opened his eyes again, they immediately landed on the new concubine.

Yeong-Ja had crossed her arms in front of her chest. She felt embarrassed for screaming when the servant tapped her shoulder. She hadn’t noticed them coming into the room and yelped in surprise from the sudden touch. Yeong-Ja also felt embarrassed for being scolded so harshly. While she had expected to get scolded, she had pictured it to be the emperor himself.

Her eyes fell on the man who had entered the room as well. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks when Yeong-Ja saw the half-naked form of him. Involuntarily her eyes wandered over his toned upper body and well defined muscles. She took the tattoos adorning his body in as well, fascinated by the intricate painting of a wolf’s head on his left pec.

As her eyes continued to wander over his body she finally reached his face. The air inside her lungs nearly got stuck when Yeong-Ja saw the intense gaze on her. She locked eyes with him and the feeling of being a small prey spread throughout her whole body.

San glanced at the servant, telling them they were dismissed, before his eyes landed on the new concubine again.

His wolf rumbled inside of him, growling something about having found their mate. He eagerly wanted to cross the distance and get to the woman, wanted to touch her, smell her, scent her, take her and most importantly breed her.

San’s fingers twitched as he fought to keep control over his own body. Seonghwa’s words played in his mind again, while San stared at the woman in front of him. He noticed how she wasn’t turned into a doll-like human like all the other concubines before her. He also noticed how the clothes around her body weren’t as neatly placed.

‘Easier access’, his wolf nearly howled, keen with the choices that were made.

Yeong-Ja could have sworn she was on fire from the intensity of his gaze but at the same time one ice cold shiver after another ran down her spine. She could feel her heart pounding inside of her ribcage.

“May I know your name?”

The soft voice of the emperor - even though it sounded slightly strangled - surprised Yeong-Ja. She would love to simply listen to him all day, every day. “Yeong-Ja”, she introduced herself, bowing slightly in hopes it was enough courtesy towards the emperor.

San repeated her name, same as his inner wolf, getting a feeling of it on his tongue. “That is a beautiful name”, he complimented her as he suppressed another attempt of his wolf to pounce on her. “Have you been waiting for a long time?”

Yeong-Ja blinked several times, thinking about the question. She wasn’t even sure whether she could answer it or not. Without any windows Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to see how high the sun was and therefore unable to tell the time. Yet she knew it had been enough time for her to change her appearance. “Long enough to wash my face and dress differently.”

San’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected such an answer and most importantly he hadn’t expected that she took the liberty to change her looks, disregarding everything the servants must have prepared for him. Before San could control himself, he let out a loud laugh. San held his stomach as he leaned back from the force of his laughter. The mental picture of the frustration from his servants and her just undoing everything that has been made, just got to him.

Yeong-Ja observed him silently, a small smile playing over her lips upon noticing the dimples on his face when he grinned brightly.

Once San calmed down again, he wiped the corner of his eyes. He still grinned, the amusement apparent in his voice as well. “Make yourself comfortable in this room. If you’re in need of anything don’t hesitate to call for a servant.”

Yeong-Ja nodded slowly, trying to hide the confusion that filled her thoughts. She thought the emperor would want her to undress and get on the bed so she could please him. Therefore she hadn’t expected something like this.

“I’d like to have breakfast with you tomorrow morning. Is that alright with you?” San ignored the warning growls from his wolf, telling him to stay with her. But San wanted to be a little more careful with her. He hoped by getting to know her first and taking it slow, Yeong-Ja might not fear him like most of the other concubines. And most importantly she hopefully wouldn’t run away.

Yeong-Ja had to remind herself of keeping it together and actually answer the emperor. Everything she witnessed from him so far contradicted all the rumours surrounding him. It was a miracle that she wasn’t too stunned to speak with him. “It would be a pleasure.”

San smiled and nodded shortly, before he bid his goodbye and walked back into his private chambers. Much to the dismay of his inner wolf.

Over the next weeks San ordered to bring more furniture into the concubine’s bedroom. While he could have admitted Yeong-Ja to the special quarters for the concubine instead of the regular ones, his inner wolf insisted to have her as close as possible - and if sharing a bed wasn’t an option yet it had to be the room right next door.

Yeong-Ja still didn’t know how to properly act around the emperor. He was sweet towards her during the day and made sure every wish she could possibly have was fulfilled as fast as possible but he never called her for the purpose she was brought into the palace.

At night she would lie awake in the large bed, staring up at the ceiling, which she barely saw with the small night light on the stand next to the bed. At first Yeong-Ja wasn’t able to sleep because she constantly stayed on edge, expecting to be called for her duty at any moment. Though when it didn’t happen her thoughts started to tear her apart from the inside. She couldn’t understand why San never came to her at night, why he always kept his distance even when they met.

Yeong-Ja couldn’t possibly know how much he suffered from not being close to her. His wolf rioted every chance possible - especially at night. A time where he wanted to take his mate and nothing else.

San writhed in pain, trying to keep his cool. Yet the hard on he sported in his loose pants throbbed painfully. No amount of masturbating helped him and it slowly but surely drove him insane.

‘Go to her.’ His wolf whispered, the sly smirk prominent in his voice. ‘She’ll take care of us.’

“No”, San grunted breathlessly. He pushed himself up and walked over to the door. San stood in front of it, his whole body trembling as he fought with himself. It took all of his will power to go through the other door.

He walked up to the concubine quarters. San needed a release and he couldn’t care less about who he had to fuck for that. As long as it meant he wouldn’t harm Yeong-Ja.

The woman struggled to fall asleep again. Therefore she decided to go for a short walk. She followed the wooden path to the centre of the palace, where she found a small koi pond and some greenery. Yeong-Ja sat down on the stairs that led down to the pond and stared at the water. The light of the flames from the lanterns around her reflected on the surface, almost dancing to a melody she wasn’t able to hear.

When she heard the sudden movements to her right, she cowered behind the handrail, hoping to stay hidden from whoever walked past in the middle of the night.

San pushed the concubine towards the special quarters since he couldn’t use the bedroom anymore. He got impatient with her stumbling and irritated with his wolf wanting to go somewhere else. Hopefully it would die down the second he stepped into the quarters with that concubine.

Yeong-Ja watched them silently, a lump forming inside her stomach when she recognised San with another woman. She wondered what this woman had that she didn’t have. Her shoulders hung down and she couldn’t contain the sigh that spilled past her lips. While being with the emperor had its perks, she still felt out of place. No matter how many tea ceremonies, breakfasts or evening walks she would have with him, Yeong-Ja still thought there had to be something wrong with her as she seemed to be the only concubine that wasn’t used for her original purpose.

Yeong-Ja winced when she heard the faint cries of pleasure. Swallowing the building lump in her throat she decided to go for a longer walk. There was no way she could just sit there and listen, nor could she go back to her chamber that was located right next to them.

On silent soles the young woman moved over the bridge of the pond and up the stairs towards the throne hall. She hoped the door behind the throne would be open, so she could sneak past. Even though she knew she’d be stopped at the main gate, she had a slimmer of hope within her.

“Miss Yeong-Ja?”

She squeaked and slightly jumped on the spot, her hand hovering above the handle for the sliding door to the throne hall. Yeong-Ja’s head turned almost mechanically to her left, where she saw Seonghwa.

He looked at her with concern written all over his face. Ever so carefully he stepped towards her, fearing she might bolt if he made too hasty movements. “Is everything alright?”

Yeong-Ja winced again, feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden. “I just wanted to take a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?” Seonghwa finally reached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He tilted his head, exploring her face in detail. His attention momentarily faltered when he heard the outcry from the special room. Understanding dawned on his features as his attention returned to the woman in front of him. “May I accompany you, Miss Yeong-Ja?”

Yeong-Ja nodded softly, a small smile playing over her features when she saw his awkward grin. “Can we leave the palace grounds for a while?” She asked hopefully, needing some distance to clear her thoughts.

“I’ll send for two guards to follow us”, Seonghwa confirmed and ushered her through the door. They crossed the throne room in silence and waited at the large entrance to the courtyard for two guards to join you.

For a while the silence continued as they walked through the streets of the upper town. Though as if Seonghwa was able to read her mind, he spoke up again: “Something is troubling you.”

Yeong-Ja sighed deeply, tilting her head back and looking up into the dark sky. “Is there something wrong with me?” She didn’t dare to look at Seonghwa, fearing his answer for some reason.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, observing her closely. “Why would there something be wrong with you?”

She shrugged with her shoulders, looking back down to the ground again. “It’s a little embarrassing to talk about this”, she confessed, her voice so soft nobody else but Seonghwa could hear her. “I just feel like the emperor doesn’t want me like he wants the other concubines. I’m not even sharing the same quarters with them.”

Seonghwa placed his hand on her shoulder again, chuckling softly. “I’m sure it is quite the opposite, dear.”

Yeong-Ja raised her head and looked at Seonghwa in confusion, a frown adorning her features while she tried to understand what the counsellor meant. “If the emperor wants me why wouldn’t he come to me at night?”

“That is something you should ask him yourself”, Seonghwa answered ominously, halting in his steps and turning around.

Yeong-Ja followed his example, still confused about what he was hinting at. She noticed him staring ahead and followed his gaze.

Her eyes widened in surprise when they locked with San’s, who stood breathing heavily in the middle of the street before them.

When she had left the palace, San had stopped mid-thrust. ‘She’s leaving!’ San’s eyes widened in panic when he realised his wolf was right and the scent of Yeong-Ja grew more distant. San growled almost animalistically as he pushed himself away from the concubine. “Go back to your chambers”, he ordered before he rushed out of the room.

He hurried to her bedroom first, needing to confirm what his instincts and sense of smell told him with his own two eyes. San momentarily stopped in front of her door, making himself presentable before he entered. His heartbeat accelerated when he didn’t see her inside the room.

‘Follow her!’ His wolf snarled and pulled San back.

The emperor barely snapped out of this, keeping control over his own body, as he ran towards the main gates. He ignored the questioning looks from the guards and only continued to run through the streets. San followed his nose for the most part but his eyes still frantically scanned his surroundings, making sure he wouldn’t miss her.

He stopped upon finding her - together with Seonghwa, who had a hand placed on her shoulder. San breathed heavily, his shoulders heaving from the sprint he just did. His eyes jumped between Yeong-Ja and Seonghwa, trying to figure out what was going on while his wolf wanted nothing but to rip Seonghwa’s hand off.

Seonghwa bowed slightly towards San and then turned back to Yeong-Ja. “I’ll leave you in his care now.” He smiled knowingly and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before stepping away.

Yeong-Ja looked puzzled. Instead of finding answers to her questions, she only had more questions inside her head now. Once Seonghwa was out of her sight, her eyes landed on San. Uncertainty wafted off of her in waves and even San could sense it without his inner wolf telling him.

“Is everything alright?” He asked carefully, eyes exploring her expression. San feared she had attempted to escape and only got stopped by Seonghwa.

Yeong-Ja crossed her arms in front of her chest, slightly hugging her upper body even. “I just needed to take a walk.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes!” She snapped, before looking away in embarrassment. “In the middle of the night”, she added more softly, “I needed to clear my head.”

San stepped closer - at least a little. “Is there something bothering you?” He tried to even his breathing, even though the fear inside of him made him want to gasp for air. His thoughts swirled around his head and the whining of his wolf to move closer didn’t help either to stay level headed.

Yeong-Ja watched him. She saw the fear in his eyes, saw him struggle and fight with himself but she didn’t understand why. She tightened the hold around her upper body. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“What?”

She was about to repeat herself, when San interrupted her: “No! Why would you think that? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! You’re beautiful just the way you are!”

“And yet you always keep your distance.” Yeong-Ja mumbled to herself without knowing San’s heightened senses still picked up on her words.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” San groaned and pressed his face into his hands, before running them through his hair. “I keep my distance because I don’t want to frighten or hurt you.”

Yeong-Ja looked up at him through her eyelashes, gnawing on her lower lip as she contemplated her next question.

San’s wolf begged him to cross the distance and scoop her up in his arms; begged him to litter her in kisses but San stayed put. He wanted to wait; wanted to hear what she had to say.

“So could we have a tea ceremony where you won’t sit across the room and far away from me?” The wavering in her otherwise hopeful voice was heartbreaking.

“If that is what you wish for”, San agreed with a nod, never moving his eyes away from her. He didn’t dare to let her out of his sight for even a second. “Let us do that then. Tomorrow. After a good night’s rest.”

Yeong-Ja nodded shortly. She still felt uncertain around him but having him agree on being closer felt like a small step in the right direction. The young woman walked over to San - momentarily surprised he didn’t step back, but incredibly pleased he followed through with his words already. “Then we should head back again.”

“Yes”, San breathed out and walked next to you. Relief washed over his whole body once he realised she hadn’t tried running away and was even willing to go back with him. He definitely had to work harder to keep Yeong-Ja by his side - even if it meant torturing himself.

San sat in the middle of his private chamber. He had his eyes closed, trying to mentally prepare himself for the close proximity he was about to have with Yeong-Ja.

Behind him the tattoo artist prepared his utensils to create another mark on the emperor’s body. Hongjoong created every art piece on San’s skin and it hadn’t surprised him to be called again. He placed the small bowl with black ink to his right on a cloth of linen. Next to the bowl he kept the needles and a wooden piece he used as a hammer. To his left Hongjoong had placed a larger bowl of water and several towels.

“Everything has been prepared. We can start now.”

San raised one hand, halting the artist in his movements. “Please wait a moment. I’m expecting someone to join us.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he stared at the back of the emperor’s head. So far each tattoo session has always been just them. He leaned back on his feet, placing his hands on his thighs to wait.

A servant announced their arrival, requesting to open the door and let Yeong-Ja inside.

Yeong-Ja played with the fingers of her hands behind her back. She stepped inside once the sliding door got opened enough for her to walk in. To her surprise the door got closed behind her right away. For a second it felt like a deja vu but when she turned her head and looked into the room, she noticed the two men sitting on the floor.

Just like during the first night San only wore some pants, revealing his bare chest and arms. He looked up at her with a nervous smile. “I know this isn’t like our usual meetings”, he explained when he saw her tilting her head to the side and eyeing Hongjoong behind him. “Will you still join me?”

The woman nodded hesitantly and crossed the room to sit in front of San. She leaned a little to the side to get a better look at the second man, who nearly got devoured by San’s broad shoulders.

“That’s Kim Hongjoong”, San told her, successfully getting her attention back on him. “He did all of my tattoos and will do another today.” San momentarily looked over his shoulder and told Hongjoong to start now.

At the mention of his tattoos Yeong-Ja’s eyes dropped to his chest, staring at the large wolf tattoo. She mused Hongjoong to be a great artist if he was able to create such detail of a wolf’s head with nothing but black ink. “Do they have a meaning or are you just having them for aesthetic reasons?”

For a while only the slapping of the wood against Hongjoong’s fingers filled the room. San focused on the slight pain pulsating through his body to keep his wolf in check. The close proximity to her made his wolf run up the walls but he couldn’t let it be. “Some have meaning, others don’t”, he breathed out, his jaw clenching and hand twitching as his wolf made another attempt to reach out to her.

Yeong-Ja watched him silently, noticing how he tensed up and struggled to hold this conversation.

Even Hongjoong noticed the unusual behaviour of the emperor. He knew for a fact San didn’t react to the pain of the needle, so seeing him this tense surprised the artist.

Yeong-Ja turned her attention back to the artist while San continued breathing purposefully. “How are you creating these?”

Hongjoong momentarily halted in his movement to look up at the woman. A proud grin flashed over his feature before he continued to work and started explaining the process to her.

While his inner wolf got jealous and wanted to bring the focus back to them, San felt some sort of relief that he could deal with his wolf for a moment as she listened intently to the process of tattoo making from Hongjoong.

After what only felt like seconds but probably had been much longer Yeong-Ja looked back at San. She noticed how he had already been watching her, making the heat rise up to her cheeks. Yeong-Ja quickly dismissed the feeling and cleared her throat. “May I see how he’s doing it?”

San’s eyes widened but he nodded nonetheless. He silently watched how she got on her knees and crawled past his left side. She stopped right next to him, letting only her head be behind his body to watch the artist creating the tattoo. Yeong-Ja stayed on all fours as she watched, surprised at the mess she saw on his back.

Hongjoong grabbed one of the towels and dunked it into the water bowl before wiping it over the fresh tattoo.

“Oh”, Yeong-Ja gasped when all the residue ink got wiped away and revealed what the artist had created so far. “How can you see with all the ink and blood being in the way?”

“Memory and constant cleaning.” Hongjoong picked the needle and piece of wood back up into his hands. He dunked the tip of the needle into the black ink and placed it on San’s skin before he slapped the wood against his fingers and pricked the skin in the process.

Yeong-Ja’s hand involuntarily grabbed onto San’s hand that had rested on his lap. She watched the tattoo artist with wide eyes, her hand squeezing San’s with every slap of the wooden piece.

San had gone completely still, his heart nearly beating out of his chest while his wolf rumbled in satisfaction. The little electric shock waves that flowed through his body were so much stronger than the pain from the needle. He swallowed harshly and turned his head to look at her. His eyes roamed over her features and a soft smile spread over his lips. San turned his attention down to her hand and before he could get second thoughts he placed his free hand on hers and started rubbing his thumb over her delicate skin.

Yeong-Ja leaned back on her feet again, eyes now on San’s face. “Does it hurt?” She noticed how he had relaxed soon after she held his hand, she also realised - with a slight panic arising - how this was the first time she actually had skin to skin contact with San.

“Not anymore”, he answered softly, continuing to stroke her hand with his thumb. “It’s reassuring even. To know I’ll soon have another mark on my skin that shows I’m fighting for my people.” San easily continued to speak about his tattoos and their meaning now, when she asked him to tell her more about them.

He would be laughing at himself, if it weren’t for the tattooing. San never expected that the simple contact with her skin was enough to keep his wolf somewhat satisfied and make him definitely easier to control. For weeks he battled inside of his mind with his wolf to take it slow. The constant suffering of being near her, having her scent and presence invade all of his senses without the possibility to act on it, turned San almost crazy. Yet, simple hand holding had been the solution all along.

“I’d like to have one as well”, Yeong-Ja announced suddenly, making both men freeze and stare at her with wide eyes.

Hongjoong was the first to break out of his stupor. “You want to have a tattoo?” He raised an eyebrow in question, looking at her and then at San before he looked back at her. “What would you want to get and where?”

Yeong-Ja’s eyes flicked to San, who still hadn’t moved, where she looked at the wolf tattoo shortly. Her eyes moved back up to San’s face, seeing how stunned he was with her statement.

San barely heard any of Hongjoong’s question as his heart hammered inside his chest and pumped his blood like a raging stream through his body.

Yeong-Ja bid down on her lower lip, feeling suddenly nervous with the way both men stared at her. “I’d like something that shows what I am. Something that shows I belong to the emperor.”

‘She wants us to mark her!’

San could feel his dick twitch from the image of marking her. The excitement his wolf felt washing over to himself as well. He had to fight to keep his thoughts clear, needing several minutes before he could even speak again. “You want my sigil on your body?”

Yeong-Ja nodded softly, still gnawing at her lower lip. She had thought of a wolf at first but the second San mentioned his sigil - the moon - she knew it was the perfect tattoo to show she belonged to him. “Would that be alright?” Yeong-Ja looked up at San through her eyelashes, nervous to get a rejection from him.

“Yes”, he breathed out, squeezing her hand gently. “Absolutely!” San turned his head to glance at Hongjoong. “Once you finish my tattoo, prepare everything to make another.”

Hongjoong agreed quietly and got back to work, finishing the tattoo soon after. He cleaned San’s back one last time before he stood up and called for a servant, requesting fresh towels and water. When he turned back around, his eyes landed on the woman. “Have you thought about where you want to get the tattoo?”

“Somewhere where I can see it, if I want to.” Yeong-Ja looked down at her body, wondering which part that would be. She lifted her arms and turned them, quickly deciding against them and looking further down her body. Her gaze momentarily flickered to San’s chest, thinking she could have the moon tattoo on her chest just like him, but she already squirmed at the thought of revealing her breasts. Finally Yeong-Ja’s gaze landed on her lap. “On my thigh?”

Hongjoong nodded. “That’s a good choice for a first tattoo placement. It will hurt less.” He started to prepare everything again, thanking the servants that brought the things he requested.

San squeezed her hand and brought her attention back to him. “Are you afraid?” He asked softly, tilting his head to one side.

“Not with your approval”, she answered him, smiling shyly and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was more afraid of your reaction”, she admitted. Again she glanced up at him, gauging his expression to her words.

San could only grin foolishly at her, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. He loved how she asked for his approval; loved how she wanted to do it with him in her mind. Before he could say anything of that though, Hongjoong requested Yeong-Ja to lay down on her side. San nearly whined out loud when she pulled her hand away from him to follow the request.

Yeong-Ja tried breathing naturally but her nervousness slowly got the best of her. She only followed the instructions of Hongjoong now, her head otherwise empty. She pulled the fabric of her dress to the side, revealing her right thigh.

Hongjoong then grabbed her by her hip gently and pulled her back to his lap, so that half her body leaned against him. “If this position is too uncomfortable we can get you a pillow to support your upper body.”

San immediately scrambled closer to them. He offered his own lap as a pillow and grinned giddily when Yeong-Ja accepted and placed her head on his lap. The emperor grabbed her right hand as well, pulling her arm up over her head so it wouldn’t be in the way for Hongjoong and so he could hold her hand again.

‘We should be marking her’, his wolf growled. He felt conflicted watching another man putting a mark on the body of his mate - even if it showed humans she belonged to the emperor - and having her so close to him. On one side he wanted to smother his mate in kisses and licks and on the other he wanted to tear his teeth into the artist for touching her. Or take her in front of him just to show his claim.

San groaned silently, debating with his wolf inside his mind. He unconsciously closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, too focused on controlling his wolf.

Yeong-Ja, who had been staring up at San for the whole time, noticed how he tensed up again. She squeezed his hand and smiled reassuringly when he opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Does it hurt?” San asked and raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it before he could even think about the action.

“Not anymore”, Yeong-Ja answered, grinning at him as she saw the twinkle of understanding in his eyes. She didn’t just say these words to copy his answer from before, she actually barely felt the way Hongjoong tattooed her since all her focus had been on San only, making her heart soar and stomach flutter. This was the closest she had been to him and she liked the feeling, hoping it would only deepen in the future.

“Can I see your tattoo again?” San turned on his side, looking up at Yeong-Ja’s sitting form. He grinned innocently as he looked through his bangs, appearing almost boy-ish.

Yeong-Ja giggled and leaned back on her hands, stretching her leg out. “You've been asking every day since I got it.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh air surrounding her.

Ever since she got the tattoo, San kept her as close as possible. He still hadn’t taken her at night but during the day he became quite clingy, disregarding the looks from others when he stayed so close to her.

Though right now he didn’t have to worry about it, having taken Yeong-Ja out on a picnic to a nearby stream in the bordering forest. He told Seonghwa where they were headed and ordered the guards to stay behind. San wanted to be solely with her at least for a moment.

“And I’ll continue to ask every single day.”

Yeong-Ja opened her eyes and laughed softly. “I’m yours. Technically you wouldn’t even have to ask.” She licked over her lips and averted her eyes again, taking in her surroundings instead.

The sun filtered through the canopy of the trees above their heads, letting thin rays of light hit the ground around them. Some rays reached the water of the small stream, where the moving water reflected the light. Birds and cicadas chirped around them and somewhere up the stream even a frog croaked its mating song.

San pushed himself up and crawled over to Yeong-Ja, his body half hovering over hers now. He grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb and turned her head until she looked into his eyes again. “I will always ask for your consent.”

Yeong-Ja exhaled shakily and smiled up to him. “And I’ll always give you my consent.”

San grinned brightly and let go of her chin, his hand moving down to her leg instead. When he reached her ankle, he finally made contact with her skin. Ever so slowly San pushed his hand up along her leg now, moving the fabric of the dress to the side in the process. Once he revealed her bare thigh to his sight, he let his thumb brush over the dark tattoo.

‘We should mark her right next to it!’ His wolf tried to order San and growled in frustration when he didn’t bud. ‘She’s ready for us! Take her, mark her, breed her!’

San swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the pictures floating into his mind. He grabbed her thigh, his large hand squeezing it. His eyes slowly wandered back up to her face, seeing how she stared at him with bated breath.

‘She wants us! Wants us to breed her! Do something!’ His wolf roared in frustration when San only dropped down on her form, using her body as a pillow.

San pressed his ear against her chest, listening to her erratic heartbeat with a smirk playing over his lips. He sighed in content and closed his eyes. It took all his strength to keep his wolf in check and simply relaxing in her lap helped him gain the power to keep it that way.

Yeong-Ja shifted her weight to hold her up on one hand, so she could card her fingers through San’s dark locks. She tried to ignore how her heart hammered inside of her chest, making her emotions incredibly obvious to the emperor. She tried to ignore the flutter inside her stomach and the heat pooling in her lower regions when he squeezed her thigh. While a part of her wanted him to take her in the middle of the forest, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him.

Yeong-Ja wasn’t inexperienced - not that she’d tell anybody about it - but now that emotions had joined the situation, it created a pit in her stomach and made a mess out of her.

A twig snapped in the distance, alerting San and his wolf. He tensed up before pushing himself into a crouching position in front of Yeong-Ja, ready to protect her at any cost. San barely held the growl inside him when he heard steps coming closer.

“What’s wrong?” Yeong-Ja sat up as well, placing one hand on San’s back and peering over his shoulder.

“Someone’s coming”, San informed her with a low voice. He had his eyes still trained on the trees in front of him, listening intently to the steps. His nose twitched as he tried to use the sense of smell from his wolf, hoping to get a read on the person that was approaching.

“San?”

Yeong-Ja sat a little straighter than before, her mouth shaping an ‘o’ as she recognised the voice. She also noticed how San visibly relaxed and stood up, calling out for Seonghwa.

Soon enough the older man appeared between the trees with an awkward smile adorning his face. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt”, he apologised and bowed shortly in front of the couple. “But I have to ask you to return to the palace.”

San frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why?” Was the only word he said, slightly glaring at Seonghwa for even requesting something like that.

Seonghwa glanced towards Yeong-Ja, who slowly stood up too, readying herself to leave at any moment. He sighed deeply and returned his attention to his emperor. “Patrolling guards have stumbled on a camp of soldiers from the neighbouring region. They were able to overwhelm them without any casualties but now they insist on delivering a message to the emperor himself.”

“And that couldn’t wait?” San grunted in annoyance, but started to pack the few things he had brought along nonetheless.

“The prisoners make the court nervous.”

“And a nervous court is a bad court.” San sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to leave Yeong-Ja’s side so soon. He turned his head and looked at her, contemplating his options. “Would you” - he paused, unsure about his own request - “stay with me?”

Yeong-Ja nodded and quickly stepped next to him, placing a hand on his upper arm. “If that’s what you wish.”

San thanked her quietly and grabbed her hand, leading her back to the palace and towards the throne room. His thumb rubbed slow circles to the back of her hand as his gaze was trained on Seonghwa’s back. He knew Seonghwa wouldn’t have interrupted them if it wasn’t necessary. He still cursed the older man for doing it though.

When they reached the throne room, Seonghwa stepped next to the throne as the head counsellor, looking down at the five soldiers that kneeled at the bottom of the steps towards the throne.

San glared at them as he walked up the steps and plopped down on the throne. He still held onto Yeong-Ja’s hand and used the chance to pull her right into his lap. There was no way he’d let her go now while being irritated already. San wrapped his arms around her body and silently nosed her neck, inhaling her scent with closed eyes to calm himself down again.

Yeong-Ja hadn’t expected to sit on the throne as well but she sensed how San needed her presence to keep his cool. She placed one hand on his chest, silently telling him she would be there for him.

“What is this message you have for me?” San opened his eyes again, glaring down at the five soldiers, who cowered away from his intense aura. Even some of his own guards shrunk down on themselves.

“It’s more of a warning”, one of the soldiers spoke up, raising his head to look up and smirk at San and Yeong-Ja. “You might wanna keep a closer look on your concubines.”

San snarled loudly and tightened his hold on Yeong-Ja, leaning forward a little as if he wanted to attack at any moment. “Be careful of your next words or I will rip your tongue out”, he threatened, baring his teeth in the process.

The soldier laughed maniacally. “I’m not surprised rebel groups are forming in your kingdom when the emperor himself is more concerned whether I insult a concubine or not.” He glared back up at San, a crazy look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “They say the dumber the concubine the better the sex. So this one must be incredibly stupid if you keep her that close.”

Yeong-Ja pressed her hand on San’s chest, keeping him in place. She turned her head to the soldier, raising an eyebrow to taunt him. “Oh really?”, she asked with a scoff. “In this case your stupidity outshines mine. You never intended to give the emperor a real warning, did you now? You only desired to insult him or get a rise out of him, isn’t that right? But here you are, on your knees, pathetic and incredibly stupid for revealing your association with rebel groups.”

Seonghwa stared at the woman with wide eyes. She was the first woman to speak during a court meeting of this magnitude. She was also the first to attend one but that's besides the fact she kept San in check, threw the insults right back at the enemies face and pointed out valuable information. He had also picked up on the rebel part but would have brought it up at a later point without the soldiers present.

Seonghwa turned his attention to San, noting how he barely held himself together. The only thing stopping him right now was Yeong-Ja’s hand on his chest. Otherwise he appeared to be absolutely livid.

“Pah”, the soldier barked, internally cursing himself for speaking about the rebel groups.

“And let me guess”, Yeong-Ja continued, ignoring how the soldier bared his teeth at her, “part of the rebel group is a former concubine that ran away. Why else would you bring it up?”

“A loud one, aren’t we? I’ll keep in mind to gag you when I fuck you and make you submit to me!”

In a flash San pushed Yeong-Ja from his lap and leaped down the stairs, crashing into the soldier, who had insulted her on several occasions. He punched his face over and over again, not stopping even when he heard the crack of bones.

Seonghwa rushed over to Yeong-Ja and placed his hand on her shoulder, forcing himself into her line of view. “You should leave now!”

Yeong-Ja stared up at him with an open mouth. She noted his stern voice and expression but something inside her insisted to stay put. “He asked me to stay by his side”, she tried to bargain with Seonghwa, knowing full well her weak voice did nothing to compel him.

“You do not want to see this”, Seonghwa only told her and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her up and away from the throne.

“What kind of monster is he?” One of the other soldiers screamed as he tried to move away.

Yeong-Ja looked over her shoulder upon the scream, seeing how San got tackled by several of his own guards, who tried to pull him away from the now lifeless body of the first soldier. She watched how San pushed all of the guards away and stood up, blood dripping from his fists. His eyes had turned turquoise as he fixed the soldier, who had screamed, with his stare. The last thing Yeong-Ja saw was San snarling, revealing larger canines than a human being should have, before she got pushed through the door behind the throne.

“What is happening to him?” She asked in concern and stared up at Seonghwa’s grim expression. Yeong-Ja stumbled along the wooden path, trying to keep up with the pace Seonghwa had.

“That’s something he’ll have to tell you himself.” Seonghwa opened the door to her quarters and gently pushed her inside. “Stay here and do not come out until I or a servant come for you!”

“What about San? Can I leave when he-?”

“No!” Seonghwa interrupted her immediately, his grip on her shoulder tightening. “In this state San can’t be near you! He wouldn’t want that!”

Before Yeong-Ja could ask more questions, Seonghwa let go of her and closed the door in front of her nose. She wrapped her arms around her upper body and slowly walked to the large bed while all of her thoughts were with San.

Seonghwa basically ran back to the throne hall, seeing the bloodbath in front of him. He ordered the guards around as he tried to get a better grip of the situation. So far he counted four dead bodies already and several injured guards - which were thankfully on the lighter side.

San stalked across the room to the remaining living soldier. He pushed himself through the guards that tried to hold him back, his hands that had already turned into claws reached out for the soldier and his turquoise eyes fixed him in the corner of the room. When San broke through his guards he landed on all fours but it didn’t stop him, instead he just continued to crawl forward. He growled menacingly and ignored the guards that grabbed onto his clothes and legs.

“They’re going to kill you! They will hunt you like the animal you are!”

San licked over his canines and pushed one last time forward, breaking free and reaching the soldier. He wrapped his hand around the soldier’s throat, his sharp claws digging into the skin and drawing blood. San leaned down to his face, leaving only a hair’s width between them. “They can try”, he growled before he snapped his back.

Even though the soldier was dead, San still ripped his throat out and clawed at his upper body. He had lost all of his control, letting his wolf overpower him.

‘Die, die, die, die!’ The wolf chanted over and over again as he relished in the disembodiment of the soldiers. A small part of him had been incredibly proud of his mate for handling the situation so quick-witted but it did nothing for the rage he felt. Nobody insulted his mate and would get out of that alive. He scanned the room, making sure none of the enemies had survived, grinning even when he saw their bodies - or what was left of them. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, the stench of blood infiltrated his nostril as well as the fact the scent of his mate was missing.

Seonghwa and seven other guards stormed towards San, grabbing him and placing huge chains around his arms and wrists. They struggled quite a bit to keep San in check but did it in the end, despite his writhing and twisting.

They brought him to his private quarters and chained San up against his own bed, making sure he wouldn’t be able to break free unless he regained his human consciousness again.

“Take the time to cool off again”, Seonghwa told him with a pained smile on his lips. “You did what you had to. We’ll clean up the mess and take care of the rebel groups. Their scent will be traceable.”

San growled at the mention of the rebel groups, pulling at his chains as well. ‘Anybody associated with these soldiers has to die!’

Seonghwa sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. He only hoped San would regain control again sooner than later. He didn’t want to imagine the consequences otherwise.

Yeong-Ja sat up on the bed as she heard the commotion outside her room. She scooted to the edge and listened with bated breath, hearing some muffled words being spoken as well as the rattling of chains. The woman swallowed the lump forming in her throat and stood up, walking to the door that connected her room with San’s. One of her hands clutched the turquoise pendant hanging around her neck while the other hovered above the door, trembling from the nervousness running through her body.

A pitiful whimper from the other side of the door, settled her decision and she pulled the sliding door open. Yeong-Ja glanced into the darkened room, her breath catching in her throat when her eyes connected with the turquoise glowing ones from San.

He whimpered again, trying to move one hand in a weak attempt to reach for her. “Yeong-Ja”, he rasped before he wetted his lips with his tongue.

Yeong-Ja carefully stepped closer to the bed, both hands now clutching the pendant while her eyes took in every detail of the scene before her.

San laid splayed across the mattress, his upper body slightly hoisted up by the dozens of pillows behind his back. His arms were pulled to the side by heavy looking chains that wrapped around them up to his elbow. His fingers, which appeared more like claws, had blood slowly drying on them. Same with his clothes that got covered in blood stains and started to dry up. San had blood smeared over his lower face as well, the dark liquid a stark contrast to his smooth skin and his glowing eyes.

“San?” She asked hesitantly, halting at the end of the bed. Concern was written all over her features and it only deepened when he whimpered again. Yeong-Ja stared at him, a knot forming in her chest from the helplessness that suddenly arose inside of her. She wanted to help him, be there for him, but she didn’t know how.

A loud crack rang through the room and San broke free in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Yeong-Ja by the waist and slammed her down on the mattress, caging her underneath his body. He leaned down and nosed along her neck, inhaling deeply her intoxicating scent. “Our mate”, he rumbled and pressed his pelvis against her core.

The way San easily threw her onto the bed, knocked Yeong-Ja’s breath out of her lungs. The heat and throbbing inside her lower regions built up tenfold out of nowhere, leaving her incredibly aroused.

“We’ll take good care of our mate,” he breathed against the sensitive part of her neck, gently nibbling the skin even, “we’ll make her feel full with our cock, make her full of our cum until she’ll carry our pups.” He spoke more to himself than to her, too consumed by his own hunger and lust.

Yeong-Ja mewled softly underneath him when he ripped her clothes off, leaving her in a few shredded pieces of fabric but otherwise bare for his eyes. She wanted to hide from his intense gaze but stopped upon hearing him growl. Instead she raised her hands above her head, intertwining her fingers even, to show she wouldn’t hide a single part of her body from his sight.

He growled almost impatiently as he grabbed her by the hips - the chains around his arms clanged loudly with each movement. With ease he lifted her body and turned her around so she was on all fours. He tore the fabric of his pants open while he pushed Yeong-Ja’s upper body into the mattress, presenting her ass nicely for him.

Yeong-Ja gasped for air when he thrusted into her with one swift motion. Her walls tightened around his shaft, squeezing him hard from the sudden intrusion. She arched her back, changing the angle slightly he’d fuck into her.

He grabbed her hair and held her down, pressing her into the mattress with one hand. Part of the cold chains rested on her back, adding to the intense feeling. The other grabbed onto her hip, keeping her body in place as he started to thrust into her. He snapped his hips so his pelvis hit her ass cheeks and created a loud slapping sound that reverberated through the whole room. He growled with each thrust, gaining strength from the increasing moans that turned higher in pitch with every snap of his hips.

Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, feeling her insides tingle in pleasure. Every fibre of her body reacted to him and sent her over the edge. If he hadn’t held her hip with a vice-like grip, she would have collapsed on the mattress. She barely caught her own breath when he used his strength again. She whined over the loss of his dick from her throbbing hole but yelped when he turned her back around and slammed her back into the mattress once more.

His claws ran over her skin, leaving thin red lines along their path. He moved them from her neck over her chest and down her sides until he stopped at her hips. His eyes landed on the moon tattoo on her thigh, grinning wickedly as he dropped down and licked over the dark ink. “Our mate. We’re marking her for good this time.” He nibbled around her tattoo, licking and kissing it in his way as well. Until he found a spot close to her core.

Yeong-Ja arched her back and screamed out when San bit down on her thigh, together with plunging two fingers into her hole at the same time. The pain and pleasure battled inside of her for the prominent feeling as San’s large canines stayed inside her flesh while he started to fuck his fingers into her at a brutal pace.

Only after he felt satisfied, he pulled away from the bite mark, rumbling pleased to see his own mark on her skin. He leaned down and licked over the tender wound, sealing it with his saliva. “You’re such a good mate for us. So perfect. Taking everything so well.”

With one last kiss on the bite mark he moved to her centre, brushing his lips over her sensitive nub and teasing her folds with a few licks. All while he still pounded his fingers into her relentlessly. He only slowed down his movements to add his tongue to the mixture, pushing it along his fingers into her hole. His nose nudged into her nub during the process, making her mewl and whine in pleasure.

As her high built up yet again, Yeong-Ja wanted to clutch her legs together but his broad shoulders and a tight grip on her thigh prevented her from doing so. She had to endure the onslaught of pleasure to her clit and folds, being toppled over the edge when he added a third finger to push into her. Yeong-Ja’s whole body trembled and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her breathing erratic and her mind wrapped in a cotton-like bliss.

He lapped at her essence, slurping up every last drop, before he pushed himself up and ripped the rest of his own pants and shirt away. He tore at the chains as well, getting rid of them and finally being just as bare as her. His dick slapped against his toned stomach, thick and throbbing, with droplets of precum oozing out of its tip. He leaned back down again and rolled his hips against her core, lathering his shaft with her juices and wetting it again before he pushed himself inside of her.

Yeong-Ja didn’t get a warning, nor was she prepared for what was to come. Her legs got pushed to her chest, where he wrapped his arms around to hold them secure while he rammed his dick into her tight hole. The drag along her walls had her thoughts spiralling and her high building rapidly again. Yeong-Ja grabbed onto the sheets of the bed, needing something to ground herself.

“Such a good mate”, he rumbled, accentuating each word with a harsh thrust, “taking us so well. Feeling so good around our cock. Our mate is the only one we need, only one we want.” He pushed into her, getting more and more aggressive since her moans spurred him on. “Need to breed her. Need pups. Need her full of our cum.”

When he let go of her legs, they fell almost limply back on the mattress, spread wide so he could still fuck into her. He grabbed onto her sides, his claws slightly digging into her skin as he continued to push into her. He grunted and growled, hitting the soft spot inside her.

Yeong-Ja cried out in pleasure, writhing underneath him as she couldn’t control her own body anymore. She grabbed onto her hair with one hand, moaning obscenely loud. Her senses zoned in on the connection between their bodies and with one hard thrust she came undone once more.

He stilled his movements, having his dick pushed inside of her core as far as possible. He felt how the base engorged, forming the knot that would prevent any of his seed spilling out. He kept his position, leaning on his elbows and staring down at the connection. He could see how her entrance got spread wide from the building knot, which was enough to make him spill inside of her. His dick twitched and shot rope after rope of white hot cum into her, painting her insides white and filling her up to the brim.

“So good. Taking it all. Our mate will be round and plump with our pups.” He rumbled in satisfaction, watching how her lower stomach slightly expanded from the amount of cum he shot into her.

Even after he was done, he stayed in place - the knot wouldn’t reduce in its size anytime soon. He tore his glowing eyes away from their connected body parts, letting them wander over her body and up to her face. Out of the corner of the eye he noticed something around her neck.

Yeong-Ja winced slightly when he shifted his weight and reached out to carefully pull at her necklace until he had the turquoise pendant resting in his palm. She watched how the glow in his eyes slowly died down and his warm brown eyes returned again.

San’s gaze flicked from the pendant up to her face, confusion spreading over his features since his memory appeared a little hazy. “Yeong-Ja?” His voice was soft with a hint of worry lacing it. When she only smiled weakly - still too out of it from multiple orgasms - concern replaced San’s confusion. He wanted to push himself up when both of them winced, making him look down at his body again. San scoffed and shook his head. “Can’t believe my wolf fucked you before I did”, he grumbled, hiding his face behind his dark bangs.

“Your wolf?” She asked quietly, her voice hoarse from the constant moans. Yeong-Ja raised one hand to cup his cheek, lifting his head until San looked at her again. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone and smiled softly at him, even brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

San sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’m not entirely human”, he mumbled, swallowing harshly in fear of her reaction. “I am part wolf.” He noticed how her gaze dropped down to his tattoo, making him grin slyly. San turned his head from side to side and looked around, noting the broken headrest of the bed and the chains discarded on the mattress to his sides. He slowly gained scenes of his memory back, putting the pieces together to get a whole picture. “I’m sorry”, he whispered and his head dropped down again.

“Why are you apologising?” Yeong-Ja got up on her elbows, ignoring the sting between her legs from the movement. “You have nothing to be sorry about!”

San shook his head. “I wanted to ease you into this mess since it’s a lot to take. I understand if you’re afraid of me now and want to keep your distance. I’m deeply sorry for losing control over my wolf and letting him use you like that.” To his surprise he heard Yeong-Ja chuckle, so he looked back up at her with wide eyes.

“It is a lot to take in”, she agreed with a twinkle in her eyes, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t take it. The moment I requested the tattoo was the moment I decided to be in this for the long run. You don’t have to hide from me, don’t have to keep any secrets. I’m yours. Wholeheartedly.”

San cursed under his breath as he grabbed Yeong-Ja by the neck and pressed his lips against hers. He hummed into the kiss, barely suppressing the grin building from the pleased rumbles his wolf made. San licked over her lips, asking for entrance and deepening the kiss when she gave it to him. He slowly started to roll his hips as well, feeling his hard on buried so snuggly inside of her.

Yeong-Ja arched her back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. While San’s movements were a lot softer they were precise and hit her insides just right.

San took his sweet time with her, adoring every second of it. For once he could enjoy the pleasure of life without his wolf commenting on everything he did. For once he felt like he became one - not just with himself but with another person as well, a person so special in her own unique way. And he would show her his gratitude every single day for the rest of his life.

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #choi san #ateez #ateez san #one shot #warrior #san one shot #ateez one shot

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mxtantrights · 7 months ago

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un-ordinary human

a/n: okay I mean it FINAL PART. now I did say I wanted to give you angst, so don't be surprised! that being said if you want a short blurb or bullet points about this story after this def come into my inbox and tell me!!! <33 hope you enjoy (and if you see mistakes, know that I am but a feeble human who wrote this all in one go because I had one (1) idea) thank you again for all the love!!!

part one | part two

The portal lay open in front of you. The swim would be short. You would have to hold you breath for at least ten seconds, which you could do. And then you would go through the portal and be back home.

They weren't sure how it worked. If the same amount of time would have passed there as it did here. If it had been years since you left, or maybe just weeks or hours.

You sigh.

"Leaving them without saying goodbye, little human?" Amren asks.

You turn around to face her. There she is leaning against a wide tree, her arms crossed over her chest. She was the one who knew you wanted to leave tonight. You hold told her as such and said goodbye to her.

But not so much the others. Not Azriel or Eris.

It's not that you wanted to hurt them. But you thought it best to leave without being so dramatic. And without having any more conversations about your love life, or lack thereof.

"I think it's better this way." you answer.

"Or you're just being a coward. And you don't want to get hurt again." Amren pipes in.

She walks over to you slowly. You watch as her arm detangle from themselves. And then she's taking your hands into hers.

"It's okay to want to protect yourself. Just don't lie about it, epically to me." Amren adds on.

You smile sadly, "I'll miss you so much."

"I know. But our friendship wasn't meant to happen. So even this little time we did have, I will cherish." she says.

You can't help the tear that slides down your cheek. Amren swipes it away and smiles with you. You sniffle as she grabs onto your shoulders and shakes you bit.

"I'm going home." you say quietly.

"You're going home." she agrees.

She lets go of you. You take a step back and compose yourself as best you can. You roll your shoulders back and you take a deep breath.

Then you do it. You walk into the lake, you walk and walk until the water reaches your waist. You look back at Amren who gives you a small wave. You wave back.

You hold your breath and dive underwater.

There's only one word you can use to describe your world now.

Madness.

Walking through the portal was the best decision at the time for you. You could finally go back home, be normal again. Not have to worry about someone picking you off like prey simply because you are human.

But you couldn't possible expect this.

While you only spent less than ten years with the fae, it's been more than fifty years back home. Meaning everything you ever had is gone, everything you've ever known is changed, and almost everyone you knew is fifty years older than you.

You realized very quickly that you couldn't stay in the place you called home. How could you? Walk around with the same face from fifty years ago? They would call you a witch, they would do awful and vile things to you.

So you made the lonesome trek across the canary isles to the other side. Where no one had heard of you, had ever seen you before. And just for added assurance you changed your name too.

The rumbling began a year after you came back.

You'd feel it pass during the day at work at the local inn, or at night while your were sleeping. And sure enough when you'd go outside the next day there was a new crack in the ground. Cracks spanning for miles. Some ran deep, some were just surface level.

But you knew, you knew what was happening.

How the Canary Isles were rocked by powerful tremors and then sunk. Reemerging as the court of nightmares. You' don't know what scares you most, knowing that the very ground beneath you feet will be submerged underwater at any given moment or that what comes after is fae, and other magical beings.

You wouldn't run. You wouldn't run no matter how much your mind screamed at you to go. And you had plenty of opportunity to. It's not like you would need to pack anything either. Your pay at the inn was enough to eat, bathe and house yourself.

But you couldn't find it in yourself to abandon your home land. Or the people. You couldn't convince all of them that something bad was going to happen without coming off as a with or heretic. So you stayed, you waited, and waited.

All that waiting you did just made you sad. Sad for what was to come, and sad that you didn't say goodbye to Azriel and Eris. You left without a word, without a thought for their pain. You only thought of yourself.

You've regretted it since coming back. But the portal only worked once for you, and closed immediately after.

You waited for five years after the rumbling began. Then it happened. The once large island splintered off into four, uneven pieces. You saw a lot of lives lost that day.

And with the help of those who survived you rebuilt. But in the back of your mind you knew it was for nothing because soon the isles would be gone.

It happens on a normal day. When you are off from work, picking up fresh vegetables for a few of your neighbors. You feel it starting. In your feet, the ground shakes. Then the fruits from the stand to your right start rolling off the display. Apples and pears rolling past you.

The ground cracked where you stood. You tried you best to run. And you did make it quite far. You made it all the way to what used to be the old village, but was now chunks of land in the sea. The land just cuts off with no warning.

And you had no choice. When the large crack made it's slithering voyage to you. There was no decision. There was no left or right step to take. Before you knew it, you were falling into the open ground, into the ice cold water.

Amren had this feeling in her gut today. She couldn't bother to eat fresh meat, she couldn't keep focused during training the Nesta, and she couldn't bother to really pay attention to Varian.

Something happened. She just didn't know what.

And she would have stayed this way if it weren't for the interruption almost four hours after she felt it but Eris. He winnowed into the kitchen, cheeks flush and eyes wide.

She was the only one there. The only one to witness him like this.

"I can't feel it. The bond. I can't feel it anymore." he got out.

Amren turned to him, "She went home years ago, wouldn't you have felt it then?"

"I'm unsure. But this, it feels cold. Like I'm tied to a piece of ice." Eris answers, his hand placed over his chest.

In a matter of seconds, Azriel comes bursting into the kitchen. He sees Eris, and his very distressed state, and then he takes in Amren. Amren who has a look of worry on her face.

"It's happened. The Isles, they sunk into the water." Azriel speaks.

Eris looks at him bewildered, "But that can't be. She just got there. Are you saying she went home only to die in five years?"

"Maybe the time was different there. We don't know." Amren offers.

"Nyx said that my hands felt cold. I didn't even notice until I asked Cassian to feel them." Azriel confesses.

"Wait, how could you feel something when you-" Amren cuts herself off.

She looks at Azriel then. His eyes down trodden, watery. It was one thing for him to lose someone he really cared for, but this was more emotion that that. This, this was the loss of a mate.

"Is this what it will feel like? Forever?" Eris asks, mainly to himself but still out loud.

He's seemingly too in shock to put together what Azriel just divulged.

Amren felt it then. The feeling she got that morning. It wasn't some enchantment or some new groundbreaking emotion. It was guilt Guilt that she had let you go to your death.

A few months later and Azriel isn't himself. He's tried his best but he cannot seem to function at the level he's used to. His hands remind him of you being gone.

He hadn't told anyone. Still hasn't, to this day. But he felt it. He felt it when you asked him why you were so important to them. He felt the bond snap.

And he hid it. He hid it with ease, with the same amount of effort Eris used to hide his bond with you.

Azriel is standing in Rhys' office, waiting for Eris to come in. Apparently he received a letter from Kalias about something important.

The ginger haired male steps into the room and takes Eris in. The dark circles under his eyes, his usual smirk gone. Azriel never thought he'd see the day.

Eris walks in without a word and passes the note to Azriel. He doesn't even look in his direction when he does it. Azriel reads the note out loud quickly.

Special request. In need of Fire abilities. And espionage skills. Urgent item in need of acquiring.

"I don't see why not." Rhys says.

"It's beneath me, is why." Eris scowls.

"The both of you could use this right now. You won't be back to your old selves but maybe it's what you need." Rhys tries again.

Azriel lets a moment pass.

"I'll go on your orders." he says to his friend.

Rhys chuckles, "I don't want you to go because of me. I want you to go because this is something new."

"Bring a flame-thrower. I'm going home." Eris barks.

Eris heads for the door but as soon as his hand lands on the knob, Rhys starts speaking again.

"Kalias called for the two of you. I wouldn't want to risk any court relations because you decided not to show up." Rhys replies.

Eris turns around, angry.

"Who cares about some lost artifact, which is probably all that it is." Eris argues.

"Kalias does. And if you want an alliance with this court, you'll join Azriel." Rhys speaks sternly.

Eris and Azriel pass a look to one another. They haven't been in the same room since that day they both felt her lack of presence.

"Fine."

"Whatever."

Kalias leads both Azriel and Eris down a tunnel of ice. One that was being carved open for years. Over a decade of fae had taken their picks and hatchet to this iceberg in hopes of finding something, anything that could clue them into the history of the court.

And for a while it was nothing. Just ice, the ver present chunk of frozen terrain, and then more ice.

Until a few months ago. When a fae swore he saw something larger than a piece of land. With no distinct shape. They took their time and picked and chipped at the ice until they could get close enough to the unidentified object.

But what they soon realized was their tools could very well disturb the state of the object. They could chip at the ice wrong and a piece could break off.

And that's why Kalias needed Eris. A male in the fiercest control of his fire powers that could melt the ice and procure the object. Once he had the object, depending on what it was, he needed to keep it safe. Who best but the spymaster himself?

Kalias stops once he reaches the spot. He points tot he blurted object in the ice.

"You'll need to be very careful. Too quick and you may very well melt or burn the object. But too slow and the very ice beneath us could give way." the high lord says.

"A death mission." Eris grumbles.

"We could winnow out of here before anything bad happens. But that would presumably leave this object lost to us forever." Kalias adds.

"Please don't kill us." Azriel says to Eris.

Eris raises his hand up to the ice wall. Slowly but surely the ice begins to melt. Drips of water landing on the floor and freezing again into ice.

Kalias watches in amazement.

Azriel does too.

The object getting more clear with each passing moment.

Kalias gasps, "That's a body!"

Eris stops for a second. He takes a step back.

"Keep going, Eris." Azriel says.

Eris places both his hands on the sheet of ice wall in front of him. Carefully he use his fire to melt the ice down even more. Not too quick but fast enough. The ice keeps melting, thinning the space between the three of them and the body.

Eris gets close. So close that he is scared of what he might see. Scared that it might be bones wrapped in clothes and garb. Or there might still be flesh on the body.

"Carefully now." Kalias instructs him.

Azriel's shadows come up the shell of his ear. They only ever do that if they have something to say to him. An important detail. A secret. A wrong move.

Eris pushes a bit farther and the body becomes easier to make out. So easy in fact that he feels like he can't stop. He can't stop, and Azriel's shadows seem to make out what the object finally is.

Eris and Azriel gasp at the same time.

There is the sheet of ice, half frozen and half thawed, is you.

"She'll be disoriented at best. There isn't any tonics or healing techniques for this type of situation." a voice says above you. It sounds older, feminine.

"But she'll be okay?" another asks. A male voice. A bit low.

"I'll have to check her vitals every few hours. And she shouldn't be crowded by too many faces. But, by my account, she'll be okay." the female voice.

"Thank you so much Majda." a new voice says. Male. A bit lower than the first one.

"Don't thank me yet. The road will be long to recovery."

"I think we'll take it." another voice says. Another female voice.

You try opening your eyes but they feel so heavy. And everything feels so cold. It wasn't like you to feel this cold. The Canary Isles weren't cold like this. This feels like a tundra nipping at the blood in your body.

You groan at the feeling.

"She's getting up. I need the three of you back."

You can faintly feel someone's touch on you. If you're in bed, there should be no one in your home. You live alone. But maybe something happened?

You try to speak but your throat feels sore.

"Don't try to speak just yet. You'll need something for that. When you're ready I want you to open your eyes." the older females voice says.

You swallow. Then you try opening your eyes again. It happens slowly. You feel like you have to peel them open, but they open. There is no light where you are. Which is weird because you sleep with the curtains half open usually.

The scent in front of you is very blurry. You can make out one face in front of you.

"Shake your head for no, and nod for yes. Can you see me?" she asks.

You shake your head. You reach up for your eyes but you feel her grab onto your hands.

"I applied something to your eyes to help you open them. But I'll wipe it off now before you rub it in." she says.

You nod your head once. She tells you what you're about to feel. And when you fell the damp cloth across your eyes your still flinch. But you let it happen.

As she wipes your vision clears up. And you can finally place her. Majda. If this is Majda, then that means...

Your heart starts racing.

"She's panicking. I need hands. Now." She says behind her back.

Which makes you look to what's right in front of you. Well not what, but who. Amren. Azriel and Eris.

Flashes of what led to you being here go through your mind. The rumblings. The cracks in the ground. The isles being split into four. The last day. How the land swallowed you whole and you landed in the water. Nowhere to swim to.

You're back here. Again.

"Lovesick fools, Amren!" Majda yells.

Amren comes over to your side. She rushes over and makes you lay back down completely. You're not in control of your emotions or your body. You can feel yourself flailing around but you can't stop yourself.

Weakly, you whisper, "Amren?"

"I know, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." she says.

"I won't give you the whole dose but, you need to calm down." Majda says to you.

Then you feel the pinch in your arm. You look over to your left side. A needle in your arm. It brings back memories of Beron. Poking and prodding at you, trying to figure you out. You let out a wail.

"That dose was nothing. It went right through her."

Amren looks behind her, "One of you do something!"

You watch as both of them walk over to you.

Eris slower than Azriel, who joins you on your left side where Majda is. He kneels down and extends his hand to yours.

As if to ask you to take it.

You want to cry. And that is what you do. You feel the tears roll down your cheeks as you look at him. His eyes wet too. His lips form a sad smile when you take his hand softly.

The fear and the pain seeping through you seems to slow down a fraction. You feel like you can breathe again. You look over to your right side, where Eris and Amren are.

Eris makes a move to come closer to you but seems to think against it. You reach out your hand for him. He looks down at your hand, shock written all over his face, and then back up at you.

You nod your head at him.

He gives in fairly quickly. Eris takes your hand in his. You can feel the warmth from him and you let out a sigh. You settle into the bed below you a bit more.

"We thought you were gone. We felt it, the coldness." Eris says.

Your brows scrunch in the middle and you look over at Azriel. The last you checked, he couldn't feel anything like Eris could.

"I lied too. I'm sorry." Azriel speaks.

You shake your head, wanting so desperately to speak to them. To tell them how sorry you were. How you shouldn't have left without a goodbye. Or how you shouldn't have left them in such turmoil.

You take your hands and move them up both of their arms, willing them closer. Eris takes the hint first and sits on the edge of the bed. When your hands travels further, up his opposite shoulder he stills.

Azriel leans forward and places his head forward, into your side. Your hand snakes from his arm to the back of his head, your fingers in his hair.

It's then, and only then, that Eris tucks his head into your shoulder. And you finally feel like you're able to breathe normally. You reach up and rub the nape of his neck.

Sure the first time you got here had been some freak accident. But this time? This time had been fate pre-determined and unrelenting.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #Eris x reader #azriel aimgine #eris imagine #acotar imagine #acotar #azriel #eris

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ouchthathurts · 10 months ago

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❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐬) ⋮ Work-Husband! Nanami Kento x Idol! Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⋮ 6.4k

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋮ You’re a team leader of an awful office, and thanks to your boss, you’re now stuck with a man whose exhibits everything you want to be in this office. You hope he’ll be your ally in all of this mess.

Nanami Kento

You’ve thought of Nanami for a very long time, honestly, there was something so graceful about the way he handed all conflicts, defended those with such language that left higher ups perplexed, and even inspired those to do their best regardless of his unchanging tone. You find this type of lens to view such a magnificent man that you find yourself often becoming absorbed in all things he does as you find yourself fascinated in his ways.

“Nanami Kento, one of my hardest workers being able work with you! You should be very grateful; he has experience that spans across the many departments!” Both hands on your shoulders like a bicycle as you looked up at the blond with a look of straight-faced man who had been overworked by this company, you were jealous by how he was allowed to look that tired, but you had people in the office comment about the dark circles under your eyes.

You had always hated that about the workplace, the treatment that you had been put through, your boss’s hands on your shoulders made this even more apparent as you tried to handle the disgust you felt as you looked over at the blond.

You watched as Nanami stuck out his hand to you, “I’ll be very grateful to work with you, I’m sure you have experience beyond me.” Nanami said your name with a coolness, you admired his work and ease with situations, “Oh please don’t be so humble! She was just a secretary before I so graciously made her a team worker!” Two pats on your left shoulder almost made your stomach shoot out your throat and onto the blond before you.

Nonetheless, you persevered, “Likewise, Nanami.” You shook his hand with a closed eye smile to not display the glare you wanted to give to everyone in the room.

You had no real problems with Nanami, until you realized how everyone would favor him compared to you. You told everyone to get to work and while they dragged their feet, once Nanami came in and said something they were doing backflips to their work to impress the man on the same level as you.

That’s what Nanami told you.

A humble man indeed, he had more of an effortless way of doing things and with how he did it there was more of a reaction from the members left you standing almost like a doll next to him as if you were nothing but decorative furniture to highlight Nanami’s traits.

As of right now, you were just a nagging old hag that had to make sure your team knew what they were doing. “...So demanding!” They complained to Nanami, the whispers weren’t so hushed as the childish way they called out to the man was as if they were children not being given the silver platter. It disgusted you, these people who believed they deserved the high-class treatment while you were one who stayed up long nights to help finish projects they decided to procrastinate and then have them take the work you did and slap their names on them without a care in the world.

Your small smile stayed etched in your face, sewn lips that stayed in a curve holding nothing, but the look in your eyes that always had a fog from being lost in what would take place after work. It was what your boss had suggested. “Oh, Nanami, I don’t know how you handle working ‘em!” One of the men complained to him, you remembered every assignment you had completed for him after he sobbed, and snot rocketed your clothes begging for you to help him.

You only scoffed at his talk about you, you rushed quickly to clock your hours, never working late as you had matters beyond all their comprehension. You never wanted to stay once you heard them talking about you, it felt like you staying to hear it all would make you look like you were some masochist or some welcome mat that waited for the dirt in your mouth happily. You’d never willingly stayed when they talked bad about you to Nanami, you assumed he’d join them anyways in the hate bandwagon.

While they stayed to get beers, do karaoke, and talk bad about coworkers they would then treat as if they were born from the same womb with a hateful glare under sickly sweet smiles. You were quick to rush out the building, making your way down the street with your heels clacking against the concrete with a brightness in your eyes that competed with the streetlights around your work. You rushed as fast as you could, dropping your train card as you were as eager to leave work as a newly adopted puppy.

It wouldn’t take you long, with the way you rushed you were surprised if it took you longer than 30 minutes. You found yourself alone on the street only to turn the corner and a long line of people waiting patiently to get inside the underground building. It had a large garage door with a painted girl with bright pink curls, white frilly outfit with a large mic in her hand as she winked to those in line.

You quickly made your way through the back, definitely late but not in a way where the audience was beginning to lose their marbles over the timing of such an event. You we quick to make your way through and found yourself putting on the makeup that had awaited you.

“Where have you been!?” Your co-worker shouted, sitting right next to you in the second vanity mirror as he placed the bright pink wig in his head that had two large heart shaped buns with hair draping from them. You spoke softly, a smile that felt perfect on you as you appealed to him, “I was caught up with work, they hired some new guy in the department and now I’m stuck with someone who does my job “better” because he’s more “easygoing”-He doesn’t even talk that much, he just hums and nods and doesn't have anything to offer!”

You ranted to your coworker, Nakanishi Mizuki, who had been working as underground idol way before you had even though they had just turned 19. Mizuki was blessed with smooth dark skin with and two-toned heart shaped lips that made him the most vibrant to the cast as the bright make up your managers had you wear were ones that highlighted his features and brought more attention to him.

You admired Mizuki as he showed you the ropes and you bought him food whenever you could when college began to get too stressful for him. All Mizuki could do was laugh at your attitude towards your new coworker whilst you waited for the glue on your false lashes to become tacky, the false lashes curled into one another to form hears above your irises, bright red hearts around your eyes that faded into white in the center of them. You were then given contacts that shaped your pupils into hearts.

“He can’t be that bad, he doesn’t even talk that much?” You scoffed, “Yet he can handle my whole team in seconds whilst I have to help them meet deadlines!” You shouted as you curled the wig now placed on your head, “I feel like an unappreciated mother to my own coworkers.” You hissed; Mizuki only giggled at your words as they applied the gloss on his lips with a soft giggle leaving him.

“Well, I think we better hurry, Tami is most likely waiting on us.” You sighed but nodded, after applying all your heart themed accessories such as large earrings, bracelets, and a choker.

You looked at yourself through the large vanity mirror, a dark red headband that was littered with fake chocolate strawberries, red roses, and candied hearts that cover your ears. Your top was a bright crimson corset that ended an inch above your bellybutton, it had the design similar to a large red heart shaped box of chocolates, it had a nice pink lace accent that follow from the ended of your corset to where the top ended at the top of your chest with the center of the corset having cute chocolate design.

The corset is connected by a bright red ribbon tied into a bow around your neck with a golden heart dangling from the center. You had a bright crimson tiered sleeves, not connected to the corset as they hung off your shoulders and were only on your upper forearm. The skirt you wore was a tulip one, same color as your corset, with a shiny skirt under it that popped out from the opening of the tulip skirt, this under skirt was same color as the nice pink lace design.

There were some cute chocolate designs on the skirt as well, only they were lightly glittered outlines. You wore chunky crimson heels that have a shiny red ribbon connecting to it, it crosses around your calf and reaches your mid-thigh, so it disappears under the skirt. These heels raise you a couple of inches, it varies on the person in the group it all depends on your placing in the group.

Miyuki wears the same outfit as you, however, she only has the tiered sleeve on his right arm while the other is wrapped in ribbons. It’s the exact same make up and style as his is much brighter to compliment his skin tone. Miyuki was fiddling with his skirt, fixing up the three petticoats that was red, pink, and white layered on each other and complained of their heaviness only for Tami to interrupt him.

“You guys should’ve been here 20 minutes ago! Stop gossiping like schoolgirls and get in your places!” Tami shouted at the two of you whilst you and Miyuki looked back at the large vanity mirror, Konishi Tamiko was one of the heads as she danced on stage with you and Miyuki, however, she was more in the background since she spent her time managing finances, getting the word out about performances, and working hard with your other manager.

Tamiko has the most youthful appearance as she is the youngest member. Tamiko is the shortest, she has a tanned complexion due to her gyaru sense of style her hair is often braided and kept under a wig cap or in a bonnet. Taiko loves to wear brightly colored wigs, terrified of bleaching and damaging her hair, she wears these bright colored wigs in all different variations that she keeps in her wig closet.

Tamiko’s wigs change every time they go to do a theme with your group, the managers don’t mind, and fans adore this type of adoration for her appearance. Tamiko wears the same outfit as you, however, she only has the tiered sleeve on her left arm while the other is wrapped in ribbons.

You and Miyuki take photos quickly of yourselves in the mirror before posting yourselves to your idol account, a cute caption with kaomojis and hearts litter the text with the image covered in pink hearts. You put @kisskissasako, Miyuki’s stage name, and quickly upload it before making your way towards the stage.

The three of you listened to the crowd chant your names, finding your hands moving in a rhythm to show a wave of hands leading towards Miyuki’s head rolling out from your side and slowly showing themselves to the audience with a hot pink spotlight landing on him.

The crowd cheered, they whistled and shouted as Tamiko slowly made her way from behind you with her left arm crossing her other forearm and slowly dragging down to reveal her outfit to the audience as she spined gracefully. With one more spin, your back still towards the audience as you then extended your leg back to them before dragging your other leg into a spin whilst your back had arched. Your eyes closed with a warm smile on your face before face landed on the audience only for you to put the back of your wrists onto your forehead and gasp dramatically before letting your hand fall from your forehead to the audience, Miyuki and Tamiko followed putting both their hands towards the audience then bringing them to you as you heard them all shout your stage name.

You almost felt your heart explode once the lights hit you and the music started, you, Miyuki, and Tamiko took your place with one leg out you three slowly dragged your hands up your legs before spreading your arms out and bringing them to your body to wrap around your body as you spun your hips down whilst Miyuki and Tamiko spun them up, doing the same thing in reverse before you grabbed the mic from Miyuki hat was behind his back.

It was tired with a red silk ribbon; your lips were soft and glossed under the bright lights of the blackness of the performance area. Your leg bounced, as you connected the mic with the stand decorated with red, gold, and white ribbons. The words slipped from your lips, a roar from the audience as Miyuki and Tamiko had their mics attached to the sides of their faces in order to continue dancing for the audience.

You brought your index, middle, and ring finger into your palm, extending your thumb and pinky out as you brought it to your cheek and sung the chorus with Miyuki and Tamiko joining in as they bounced up and down rolled their hands from their body to the audience as if calling them over.

The beat had begun to kick in and this feeling was more than just euphoric, the sounds of your crowd shouting your name as if you were someone so important to them than what it truly had to be. Your hips rolled against as the chorus’s beat had begun to slow down, you repeated the words with your fingers still in a hand shape as you called out to the audience with your final chorus causing the audience to shout alongside you.

The lights flew around as you sung different songs didn’t matter as it all blurred together throughout the night, you blew kisses to your audience, shouted alongside them, and cheered for your fellow performers as their solos came and you joined in with all the joy you felt. This night was more than just this one, many nights before, four times a week, and all it took was for you to fully be happy with allowing yourself to feel the moment as sing along towards an audience that treated you like the sun.

After performances were simple, say hello, sign things, take pictures, and listen to your fans tell you how much they loved you. Your heart felt the warmest after shows, once the afterglow of a show had subsided you were now being told by those who loved you and appreciated you that you were someone that mattered to them and they couldn’t wait to see you again.

You soon got changed and went home, making sure to be escorted just in case of situations of deranged and delusional fans who demanded more of you and your coworkers, you took this time to take Miyuki home since you both took the same train, only getting off a stop earlier than him. As you bid farewell you looked at your phone that vibrated, likes and comments that came rushing in after the show that praised you and Miyuki that you hoped he’d see when he got home.

You found yourself immediately passing out, waking up the next morning to say job you had been dreading for the longest. You had slowly made your way over towards your job, taking your time since you had awoken earlier than you predicted and now here you were, looking over work that was done without your help.

The incompetence of your coworkers was astounding as this work was good, but they had never put in that effort before and made you do it by guilting you. You found yourself disgusted by their sudden work ethic, specifically of how much of your coworkers clanged to Nanami whenever they finished their work and hoped he’d critique them only for him to tell him it wasn’t time yet.

You were unfortunately stuck inside, unable to clock out for lunch until you finished your list of critiques and edits for them to make.

“Oh, would you please look at this Nanami?” They cried, the blond man remained stoic, “I apologize, but you need to go check in with other members before–” They cut him off, telling him they only wanted to hear him and not some nagging hag. “She doesn’t need an echo Nanami!” The man chortled. You had heard from your cubicle; it was almost as if forces were testing you today as you knew if you left with the unsubmitted item you wouldn’t hear the end of it from your boss.

“You shouldn’t refer to her as that, in fact, she’s displayed something that a lot of you are failing to do as a team and that’s help one another out instead of trying to dump the work on others instead of having three of your team members check before I or your other team leader see it.” Your ears perked up at such wording, you listened earnestly to how Nanami talked of you.

“Nanami, come on, don’t be like her.” One of the men spoke up, two of your other workers agreed, “As I’ve said before, I do not want to hear you all speak of your team leader like this.” Nanami’s voice sounded of frustration, maybe no one heard his tone, but you did, his hardened walls were cracking and with the fixing of his tie and the clearing of his voice you found yourself a bit lost in what to feel.

“Woah, Nanami, what’s the matter?” A woman cooed, only for him to brush her off, “Oh come on, there’s no way you’re going to defend her like this when she’s never even gotten to know you or anyone else here. What bond could you possibly have for her when she won’t even talk to you like a friend? Just a coworker?” A woman complained alongside the other woman.

“Because that’s not her job.” Nanami chastised them, “She doesn’t have to be your friend, or know you personally, her job isn’t to be your friend. The whole point of her job is to get told what to inform you, check your work when having gone through three or more members of your work, then submit and display that work towards the higher ups. There is no cold tone, in fact, you all speak ill will when she has never done a thing besides not go out for drinks with you all after work.”

The workplace was silence, while some members had already left to lunch your group was trying to invite Nanami without with them after getting their papers checked. You noticed how your group were a bit lost for words, Nanami’s sober persona had now become one that displayed a compassionate side towards those in the office that had gained you an ally in a place where you found yourself hating working for such a place.

You watched as your coworkers dispersed, forming the same groups they had before Nanami showed up thus abandoning the man and casting him aside with you. You found yourself a bit warmer inside, the pale white and gray bleakness of your cubicle showing the bits of color through photos you decided to let your eyes linger at for a few moments before finding yourself getting up and looking over to Nanami who's his expression had reverted back to his serene one as he slowly brought his eyes over to you.

It was a knowing exchange of understanding and thoughtful eyes that spoke essays as you found a soft smiling slowly growing on your lips, you know most likely he was keeping up for appearance as he is a team leader, in spite of all of the other workers though, he defended you when he could’ve easily joined in with them.

You thought for a moment about what to say, you looked down at the toes of your heels before looking back at Nanami, “Would you like to accompany me for lunch, Nanami?” You bubbled. Nanami’s eyes widened a bit, only if you truly paid attention to the way his face looked, you could notice the crow's feet in the corners to deepen a bit upon joining this team.

“Okay.”

Then you two were off, you both went to a bakery where you two were seldom on talking. You two enjoyed your meal together, amongst those chatting around you and the bustle of people on the street. You both looked at one another as you both thought about what to say to one another. You looked around nervously at your food before noticing the time, you still had 20 minutes of and yet had not said a single word besides talking about what you two ordered.

Whilst you fiddled with your thumbs underneath the table while Nanami had found himself a bit lost in what to say as well, spending time with coworkers was a rare sighting unless it was one specifically told of a boss that his presence would be one that would impact his workplace environment.

Nanami admired that about you, how you left when you were supposed to, how no matter how much you heard you kept coming in and doing your work diligently, and how much you did for others once he was told how some staff would guilt you into doing their work for them. Nanami collected this information in order to make the perfect announcement of how he felt about his coworkers and their carelessness for you.

Nanami hadn’t known you were there; he was so scared of you popping up he feared that maybe you found him to little to late for not defending you sooner. Your invitation for lunch shocked him and thus he found himself incapable of making basic conversation without saying the wrong thing.

“What made you want to work here, Nanami?” You spoke effortlessly, one that Nanami could spot from miles away with how you held yourself in a high regard regardless of how people spoke of you. “Past issues. I was a failure where I was before and thus, I needed to do something I knew I could never fail.” You raised a brow at such an answer, as blunt as Nanami is, you find yourself still lost by such.

“You most likely weren’t a failure, Nanami, don’t be too hard on yourself.” You comforted the man; you spoke calmly to him a smile on your face that gave off none of the energy from when you two first met over two years ago. A cold and detached smile that felt mandatory and stapled by in by the touch of the shared boss between the two of you, nonetheless, there was something in this smile gave a warmness in his heart.

“You’re too good at all you do, Nanami.” You praise earnestly, “I’m bad at speaking, I do apologize for being so quiet around you.” You hush him, “Please, Nanami, there’s need to apologize for such a thing!” Nanami’s eyes perked up at such, “I was a bit careless in what I did before, I feel the same way in this conversation.” You found yourself looking at Nanami with the softest eyes, there was this beauty between the two of you that was embedded under the dirt with water to soak and the sun to beam on it with care.

“Don’t run away from me now, Nanami. You can tell me whatever as long as you’re comfortable with it, of course.” There’s a silence that falls between the both of you and now you wonder if you overstepped a boundary, thankfully you didn’t, as Nanami quickly speaks up about the situation beforehand.

“My previous work was draining, I needed to give it up everything for them and once I gave up on a friend, I knew I needed to leave that line of work.” You nodded at this, while you found yourself unable to say anything you still tried to profess your feelings about the situation to him. “I mean, you may have failed once but the pros may outweigh the cons... Just because you failed once doesn’t mean you can’t help people from making those same mistakes you did.”

Lost in your eyes, your caring gaze, and the way your fingers found the straw of your drink and began to swirl it around. Nanami found himself listening to your words with something in his eyes that began to soften them with a cruelty of reality as you looked towards to the clock and told Nanami that you both needed to head back to the office.

You paid the bill of meal whilst Nanami stood outside, making your way out the two of you began to make your way back over to your office, “I wanted to thank you, Nanami.” You expressed a tender tone with the man as you spoke. “Thank you for defending me today, let me know if you’d like to spend time again.” You say as you make your way out of the elevator and towards your cubicle.

In an instant, you and Nanami began to spend time together. Meeting up at the train station at the morning to go to work with one another, spend lunch together, and Nanami would walk you to your home in the late nights after working those long nights with him.

When you entered his life, your infectious tone and compassionate nature began to dismantle the carefully constructed walls guarding his heart. Nanami had never been so bewitched by someone like this, once before there was one, whose brightness was one that made him want to do more in life and pushed him to go be a salaryman after their departure.

Your connection deepened, Nanami found himself experiencing emotions that had long been dormant, stirred by your genuine care and understanding. Nanami speaking of the one he lost, it took him a long time to open up to you of his fears of uselessness and with your constant affirmations that held him tightly in a warm embrace. There was something Nanami could not shake as the months had begun to past.

You guys had done almost everything, such as getting each other Christmas presents, spending birthdays together, going to do after work shenanigans like getting drunk and doing karaoke. Things Nanami had only ever done as one he had done with no choice unless he wanted his bosses to hate him.

You embodied resilience and authenticity contrasted the bleak and draining corporate world. Your zest for life and unwavering commitment to her values resonated deeply with Nanami, causing him to question the path he had chosen. Your inspirational worlds that called to his past being one that didn’t have to be a burden to him but could push him to do more in the future if he so chose.

“What would happen if I left the office?”

Suddenly, thoughts of returning to Nanami’s true passion in his previous work started to emerge, fueled by the desire to break free from the confines of a soulless job that stifled his want for appreciation and impact those who wanted to do more for those around him who didn't have the capabilities he had as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

Yet, you didn’t know he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

“I’d support you through it all, I trust what we have will last even if you’re on to bigger and better things.”

Your words were chosen so bewitchingly, he yearned to be on the level of your phrasing and tone. Nanami had thought for a moment, what would you do while he was gone? His job would take up so much time. How could you ever see him? What if one day he was gone forever, and it would seem to you that his new life became more important to him than you were? It was new year's, you two had been close friends for a year and some change now, soon reaching your late 20s that made Nanami stop and think about what he was doing as a salaryman. You two had spent this one together, like you did last year, sitting there on your balcony looking over the city with champagne glasses brought to you by Nanami who you thanked cheerfully.

As your relationship flourished with Nanami, he couldn't ignore the harsh reality of your situation – trapped in a job that undervalued your worth and failed to recognize your potential. Witnessing you endure the daily grind of a workplace that treated you as expendable ignited a fire within Nanami.

There was something in your eyes, it glowed under the darkness of the night they couldn’t compare to the city lights near the apartment, that glow he never wanted to lose as he made a firm decision to not only be your pillar of support but also your advocate for change, determined to liberate you from the chains of the workplace.

The countdown had begun, you and him counting down together as you found your arm around his waist and his around yours. You brought each other close, leaning your head on his shoulder as heard the other members of your apartment count together. A strike of midnight that cause screams and shouts from the streets and homes with fireworks shooting around the two of you.

At a crucial moment, Nanami found himself standing at a crossroads, torn between the familiarity of his corporate world and the beckoning call of a life filled with purpose as a Jujutsu Sorcerer. With you by his side, he realized that true happiness did not lie in the pursuit of material success, but rather in the freedom to follow one's heart.

It took a while for things to calm down before you and Nanami made your way insides, your laugh lighting up the world and Nanami losing himself as he asks you question. “What do you do on the nights when we don’t spend time together?” The world froze around you both, you hadn’t told him you ere underground Idol, with how things were looking however, you were about to be on a stage that wasn’t underneath a building.

It was nothing big, a venue to host 16000~, that would be above ground this time. You looked up at Nanami, unable to find the words, yet you knew with all this time. You knew you had to tell him though, you cleared your throat and poured another glass.

“Nanami, I’m an idol.”

The words slipped from your throat with a smoothness you wouldn’t have had without the alcohol, you smiled at him and couldn’t help it as you looked to him with the brightest of eyes. “I’ve been an idol since I started working at the god-forsaken office.” You sighed passionately, “If I could do it full time I would.”

Nanami was lost for words, he had no idea you did such work and even more he admired you for such, doing a job that required such rigorous work for practice, voice lessons, and so on. Nanami had no idea he could feel more for you in this moment than he had before in the year and months of knowing you.

“Why don’t you do it full time?” You propped your head up with your chin in your palm, “I’m sorry?” You raised a brow at such, “Why don’t you be a full time, Idol?” You thought for a moment, “Is it because of money?” You didn’t let Nanami finish, be grateful you did as Nanami would’ve stayed in the soul sucking job to provide you the life you wanted. “No, Nanami, I love being an Idol. I really do. I love all the people who support me, cheer my name, and make me feel seen in ways life has never.”

A soft crack in Nanami’s heart as he heard of the love you deserve more than all in the world, admiration for you that skyrocketed as he yearned more for you. “I don’t do it full time because I just don’t…” You thought, “I don't…” Why didn’t you do it full time? If you left your job, you would have more time to do more gigs and do more work, however…

“I don’t want to leave you, Nanami…”

The blond’s ears perked up at such wording, you looked into his eyes with a softness that left you feeling crumbled like a wall torn to pieces by a large wave, you couldn’t put your finger on this new desire that had begun to eat you and now you looked towards Nanami with a gaze that bolstered the feelings that had begun to bubble inside around you.

“ I don’t want to leave you either… ”

The warmness of your home, the dim lighting, the faint sounds of few straggling fireworks being lit for the amusement of those around you, and the way you were here with Nanami’s presence. There was something so loving about this moment you felt your heart ready to explode from the beauty of this moment.

Nanami finding himself also lost in what to feel, the way his heart had pounded made him anxious your silence was because you wanted to hear him struggle to hold himself together around you. A yearning in the half-lidded eyes of both you as you both found yourself coming closer and closer to one another.

“It requires me to travel everywhere, I’d be in so many places performing and I don’t know if your job would allow you to be with me everywhere…” You bit your tongue, you wanted him to be there with you and yet, this moment felt as if you were losing yourself in what could be as Nanami felt himself falling apart with the way you began to bewitch him with every word that fell from your lips that were of so soft…

You watched as Nanami’s hands came out to you, larger and hardened from the years of work, they held your hands and cradled you with his thumbs rubbing against the softness of your knuckles that had begun to eat with a loving feeling. You found yourself looking up into his eyes, had you ever been able to see how close he was to you that his cool and minty breath had hit your lips.

“I’ll find a way to travel, my old job made me go everywhere, I’ll go to places with you to watch you perform and I’ll cheer you on the way you’ve done for me.” Nanami’s words cradle you, you feel his hands slowly slide up your arms towards your elbows and slowly cup your lower back, your breath hitches at such a sudden touch as your lips slowly part almost sending Nanami off the rails.

“Is this, okay?” Nanami questions, a softness to his voice that you had never heard come from him before, he must feel what you do and in a swift moment you feel this desire for more of it. “Of course it is…” Your arms snaking around his neck as you brought his lips towards yours with your eyes closing as Nanami brought himself more into the kiss.

There was something about this kiss that brought you to your knees, and Nanami breaking his neck to have more of you gave you more than you ever wanted in a relationship as he coddled you. There was something Nanami gave you, something working in that office and as an Idol. The appreciation from someone so close to you, for someone to get to know you and bring you into an embrace where all that mattered was the comfort you got as he held you tight to himself in order for you to not to fall while twisting his body to just feel your lips against his. There was something about this chaste kiss that enveloped you into this something that could you swallow you whole, and that was the way Nanami pulled away and asked you, “I want a life with you, away from this job…”

A pause as he took a breath, losing track of time with you was one of the many things that worked as curse against the man who wanted you so dear, “Would you run away with me?” Your lashes fluttered open, looking into Nanami’s eyes that were pained with an expression of rejection as if it wasn’t you then no one else would ever compare to you and be who you were to him in the ways he had you now.

Your hands pulled from his forearms and two his collared shirt, “I’d love nothing more.” You pulled in him, your noses rubbing against each other as you kissed him as if you’d die without it. Nanami brought you closer as you both kissed into the night, the world being nothing but just a force that gratefully brought you two together, forever.

©ouchthathurts please don't translate, claim as yours, redistribute and/or plagiarize in any way. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#ouchlovesthem #ouchlovesnanamikento #nanami fluff #work husband nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujustu kaisen #ouchlovesjujutsukaisen

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email-me-more · 3 months ago

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moments before disaster (Cloud speaks, and everything only goes downhill from there)

New chapters just around the corner, mostly editing left now!!

this has been bouncing about in my noggin since I wrote it all those weeks ago, and while sick with covid, I replayed most of Remake for the hell of it. enjoyed it very much, and got reminded of sidecharacters I had fully forgotten before. good jog of the ol' memory, all in all.

life's been shredding me alive tho, hence the delays, since I've managed to have a lot happen in a month (in the span of Only September, yo, wtf):

got the flu (absolute misery)

hosted an event for 200 people as their compére (went really well!! I'm so stoked)

got covid two days after that (went well all things considered)

suffered through two-three exams per week (kill me now, why are my professors doing me like this)

have started fighting with my neighbours about the laundry room by leaving passive-aggressive notes (they took my clothes out of the washing machine mid-cycle and left them on the floor, pissing wet, WHEN I STILL HAD A COUPLE OF HOURS LEFT OF PERSONALLY BOOKED TIME?? blowing them up with my mind, assholes.)

got a little bit hit by a bicyclist, who made the brilliant decision of just fully sending it around a corner, where I was unlocking the door to my storage unit. I'm fine, he’s fine, my right leg just has gnarly tire mark bruises (currently yellow, purple and almost green-ish?)

got a new job, we love that! (A good thing!)

#be sweet fic #my writing #zakkura #ff7 fic #cloud strife #cloud strife fanart #cloud x zack #my art

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dizzythegreat · 6 months ago

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Keeper of the Lost Cities meta: a hopefully-not-too-critical analysis

Starting off by saying that this whole thing is a just little too pretentious and a just little too fueled by irritation so don't take everything I say as fact! I'm just kind of ranting about things that I feel like most people are annoyed with (?) please share your thoughts with me! I think it's important for discourse like this to happen to keep fandoms alive!! non-Keeper mutuals feel free to DISREGARD!

First of all Keeper has such a special place in my heart, I started reading the series when I was 12 and I'm 16 now, so I really did kind of grow up with the books. I LOVED the series as a kid and hyperfixated on it for a really long time. As the series progresses and as I read it from a different lens, I'm seeing all of the flaws so much more clearly, so this whole rant basically stems from realizing something so special to me is flawed media and wanting to get my thoughts somewhere. All of this comes from a loving place! I'm just putting down my top few issues with the series and my opinions on a lot of different elements <3

DISCLAIMER I'm doing a reread but I'm only on book 1 and my memory is shit. Any false information is literally not my fault leave me alone

1. Length, redundancy, and predictability

This one really starts in Flashback #7 for me. It will always, always evade me why that book contains ~300 straight pages of Sophitz fluff and fucking around in the healing center. I know that a lot of people enjoyed those parts, which is totally valid! Shipping is a cornerstone of this series! But for me it felt so pointless and fan servicey, idk. And this is maybe my biggest problem with the books: they drag. We're at 9 and a half books now, each spanning like 500-800 pages, and the plot drags and drags and drags. I don't know if Shannon's publisher makes her fill a certain number of pages or what, but I feel like at least 100 pages of bullshit could be cut from each book and nothing would change. They start to almost follow a formula: 200 or so pages of figuring out the Neverseen's plan of the hour, another 200-ish to plan how to defeat them, and then finally we learn that the Neverseen is actually always one step ahead and the crew gets crushed oh my god tragic!! It worked as a subversion of expectations the first couple times but by now I feel like most people could basically just predict what's going to happen in any given book. Sometimes I wonder got left on the cutting room floor because it feels like SM wrote a first draft, barely trimmed it down, and published just that. The plot spins in circles, the protagonists are confused yet again, I am pulling my hair out in chunks.

It's a huge turn-off to a lot of new readers seeing these super thick books, and it's even a turn-off to me when I do rereads because surprise surprise, I don't actually really give a fuck if Fitz likes Sophie back, or at least not enough to read 300 pages on it per book. If the books were more concise, not only would that fix a lot of the plot and character development issues, it would also make them way more digestible because to be honest with you I probably couldn't remember half of what happens in most of them.

2. Sophie...

I think this is a very polarizing opinion but I just kind of don't like Sophie as a main character? I honestly think she's fallen victim to becoming a Mary Sue and not even in a "wehhh powerful woman make me mad" type way! It's just that Sophie at her fullest power is undeniably the most powerful elf in a battle, so to counteract this, Shannon has to keep finding ways for the Neverseen to take away Sophie's power. Whether through the whole "she can only inflict everyone at once" thing or breaking every bone in her hand or creating forcefields or literally fucking anything to stop this kid with five million superpowers, they have to find a way to effectively tie her down so the battles seem somewhat realistic. This then creates a weird pattern where every battle goes one of two ways: Neverseen finds a way to effectively debilitate Sophie and all her friends, or she just goes fucking sicko mode and destroys everyone. You just can't have a main character who's this much ahead of everyone else in terms of raw power.

For me, I think the biggest issue with Sophie is she's not relatable to the average reader. The age demographic for Keeper is preteens and teens. How many 13 year olds are the most powerful, unstoppable person in their friend group, in which three hot guys are head-over-heels in love with them, living in very comfortable conditions, with like five hundred friends? If you were that fucking baller at 13 then go fuck yourself that's super cool for you! But the core pillars of Sophie's life, disregarding the all the magical stuff (which obviously requires some suspension of disbelief) are simply not relatable or recognizable to the average reader. So how are we as readers supposed to feel connected to Sophie's life and situation if we never have (and let's face it, never will) experience anything close to the more realistically human parts of her life?

3. Character development (and the lack thereof)

Say what you will but to me the character development is so pale and arguably just doesn't exist. It feels like everyone has become so one-dimensional, so predictable, and so limp. Sophie has it the worst because we read from her POV, so all of her quirks and thoughts become really fucking annoying to read over and over again. For example, The whole oblivious "omg does Dex like me? does Keefe like me? DO I LIKE FITZ???" thing was cute when she was 12 back in book one but by now I am genuinely tearing my hair out when I have to read "Sophie blushed" every two pages. The whole "I'm a freak and nothing I do ever works and all is hopeless" thing was easy to feel sympathy for the first few times, but by now it's just kind of... exhausting? It feels like the naïve, oblivious Sophie from book 1 is exactly the same person as Stellarlune Sophie, no matter how many hideouts SM makes her burn down to prove she's ruthless or something. At this point, I feel like Sophie's choices throughout the series end up either being really predictable or wildly out of left field.

Every character other than Fitz, Keefe, and Sophie (and you could make a case for the three of them too) have become a shadow of themselves and they all get at most two conversations worth of pagetime. This can be attributed to a lot of things that I don't feel like talking about so here they are in point form: excessive focus on the main "love triangle", overloaded cast of protagonists, too much emphasis on A) furthering the plot and B) Sophie's inner thoughts instead of character relationships and found family. I think the books have lost sight of the original love, trust, and bond created by the five mains, and those super interesting dynamics between the different sets of friends that were so abundant in the first few installements have become few and far between. When I was a kid, I loved the books for the warm friendships and soft moments between Sophie and Dex, and now we're lucky if they even really talk to each other if not to push the plot. Biana barely exists, Marella and Linh show up every once in a while to be gay as fuck and then leave, Stina turned nice and then immediately went back to being a bitch because SM, for some reason, un-did all her redemption, and everyone else fucks around until they're plot-relevant. Where's the squad where's the crew where's the homoerotic undertones?!

4. Miscellaneous whining

Fitz's character is wildly inconsistent imo. I love you Sophie but I'm going to consistently get mad at you over irrelevant things and ice you out even though you need my support! Your boyfriend is for the streets girl

Fuck this whole half-book thing I'm sorry. Understandably, things have slowed down now that SM has two kids and I'm really truly happy for her and I'm glad she's taking time out of her work for herself and her family. But when she keeps releasing these weird novellas every year as some kind of "solution", it really just seems like a cop-out or a cash grab. I wish we could tell Shannon that we don't necessarily need a 700+ page novel to consider it a book! I personally would love if book 10 was more concise!! Let's just get this plot moving a bit!!

Sophie burning Gisela's book BURNS MY BLOOD. SM just had no fucking idea what she wanted that book to say + it would probably end the series too quick so she got Sophie to burn the most crucial piece of information they could have ever used under pretense of "refusing to follow Gisela's trap" or whatever OH MY GOD

Sooo many dropped plot lines/plot holes there is no way this shit is being resolved in the next 1 and a half books. See you all in 2034 for book 13.125

Sokeefe endgame was great but so predictable. Half the reason most people read this series is for the will-they-won't-they thing with Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe (justice for Dex!), and I think it was executed very badly. You could predict that Sophie and Fitz would burn out, you could predict that she would end up with Keefe, there was net 0 suspense by the time Fitz made his 500th dick move. I know I just complained about things being stretched out for so long but this one could have done with some taking it slow without making it obvious what was going to happen

Can Marella and Linh just kiss already

Anyways this all comes from a place of loving frustration. Oh Keeper my love, look what has become of you. Ultimately, SM started a fantasy series without knowing the ending, and it's spun out of control, but what can you do? I appreciate the series for what it is, I wish it was better, but I'll always love it. Through all my bitching and moaning I'm still rereading it to this day so who's really winning here? Please rb and comment and dm I love discussing Keeper!!! If you think I'm an idiot tell me!!! If you agree with me tell me!!! Don't be a dick!! Thanks for making it this far! Don't forget to like and subscribe and smash that bell

#keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #sorry for this #rant #sophie foster #keeper neg #sophie foster neg #keeper of the lost cities neg

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koco-coko · 1 year ago

Text

Silent Night, Holy Night - Jean x Vincent, Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> Jean and Vincent spend their first Christmas together, starting with Midnight Mass.

Tags/Warnings: Romantic Fluff, Religious (Catholic) Discussions and Themes, Christmas Fic, Mistletoe Kisses

Word Count: 1,523

A/N <--> I wrote this in the span of 3 hours and in a car. These two have taken over my brain please help

I think they might like this: @natimiles @weirdwriter69 @azulashengrottospiano (if anyone wants to be added/taken off the list let me know)

Midnight Mass had ended a few hours ago. A few others stayed behind with Jean, but at this time of night, Jean was the only one left. Maybe a priest or two wandered by, a nun tended to the dusty floor for a few minutes, then all was silent. A priest with electric green eyes stared at him for a while, but retreated into the cathedral halls after enough examination with a deep chuckle.

Jean could stare at the crucifix for hours on end, only interrupted by the need to fiddle with the rosary in his hands. He’d already been through it three times, but a fourth never hurt. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

The heavy wooden doors creaked open once more, shutting softly seconds later. Jean ignored it, beading through the rosary at a breakneck pace. Then the light and careful steps reached him and there was a soft thump from the old pew when another sat down next to him.

Jean turned to his head, only to find Vincent with him. He smiled softly, though by his tense position, he was a bit nervous about being in such a holy place. Especially considering their relationship.

Jean often wondered the same thing, but he had to repent somehow. Avoiding judgment only showed true guilt, and Jean already had enough of that on his shoulders. He looked Vincent over a few times before he leaned back onto the seat. “Is everything all right?” Jean whispered, glancing back to make sure all were gone. In such a large and empty hall, even murmurs echoed.

“You said you’d be back an hour ago,” Vincent said, scooting a bit closer, “So I came to check on you. Are you alright, sunshine?”

Sunshine? Jean’s heart went aflutter. That name sounded like a hymn for the angels, too pure to be fit for him. “I suppose,” Jean uttered slowly.

It was a strange time for Jean. A time to celebrate the Lord, to enjoy the spoils of life and give to the poor… In the past, Jean would stay in his room most of the time, but he’d make donations to the Church with profits made from his shop. Everything else seemed frivolous to him, and the happiness floating about the air missed him completely. He was unworthy of such joy and peace.

Vincent’s eyes thinned and his smile was pained. “You know, I was a pastor once.”

Jean almost chuckled. It was hard to tell, but Vincent had grown accustomed to the signs. “Truly?” he asked.

Vincent hummed, delighted to tell his story. “Yeah. I was a Christian, and when I was twenty-five I tried to be a preacher for a while,” he said, only to glance away nervously, “I gave up on that pretty quickly. I didn’t even show up to any Bible studies, and I got dismissed soon after.”

“Why’s that?” Jean asked calmly. After being revived, he learned to not be so critical of others and their religious choices. He wasn’t one to judge– love thy neighbor, after all.

“Not sure. I guess I just didn’t feel a connection anymore, and it wouldn’t be right to preach what I don’t believe,” Vincent explained, resting his arms and head on the pew in front of him. “I liked painting better.”

Jean hummed in response and silence fell over them. God had strange ways of guiding his children on the right path. Often cruel, coldhearted, but ultimately for the better. Of course, now Jean had no path to follow, except the one paved by himself and his sins. There was a deep horror in being separated from the great beyond, separated with all normal functions of life…

But with Vincent here, things felt slightly normal. In the stability and mundanity came comfort. In Vincent came the yearning for more light in his life, without any guilt.

“Merry Christmas,” Vincent whispered sleepily. He grinned drowsily. “Yay.”

“Yay?” Jean asked, his eyebrow raised.

“I got to be the first person to say it to you. I’ve been wanting to do that all year,” Vincent said, digging his head into a more comfortable spot in his arms.

Jean didn’t even realize the faint pink blush growing on his cheek, let alone the soft curve of his lips. How light his chest felt when he saw the innocent wants of his lover. His impulses won over him and in a swift motion, he laid his cape over Vincent’s shoulders. He heard the painter sigh happily, his eyes beginning to close as colored light streamed from the stained glass windows.

“Merry Christmas,” Jean replied, before placing a delicate kiss on his temples. He didn’t mind if he had to carry his lover home. It was dark enough that nobody would see the two, and he was strong enough to make it back to the mansion in one piece. The real question was whether a piggyback ride would be more comfortable than bridal style for the sleepy painter.

Suddenly, Vincent groaned. Jean’s face instantly twisted in concern. He placed his hand on Vincent's back lightly. “Did I do something wrong?”

The sleepy painter grumbled in Dutch, before opening tired eyes. A frown on Vincent’s face made Jean’s heart implode on itself. It wasn’t right! Before Jean could speak, Vincent spoke in a language Jean could understand. Mostly. How late was it? How long did Jean force his boyfriend to stay up? Guilt ate Jean while Grogginess consumed Vincent.

“Ik was bijna vergeten…” Vincent started, moving to sit up, only to fail. Instead, his hand raised above Jean’s head.

He only had to catch a glimpse of green and red to know what it was. He’d seen it all around town, but he never knew what it meant. All he knew was that Arthur often carried it with him to the pub during the holidays. “When two people are under a mistletoe, it’s tradition to kiss each other. I was gonna wait until we got home, but I don’t–” Vincent yawned again, “Ik weet niet of ik zo lang op kan blijven…”

The words and accent were lost on Jean, despite how adorable it was to hear his language of origin. He didn’t need to know the words, though. He knew all he needed to. Vincent and himself were under a mistletoe, and tradition was a time honored thing. The stained glass portrait of the Virgin Mary would understand.

Before Vincent could make another move, Jean took it upon himself, as any knight (in shining armor, at least to Vincent) would do. Jean’s hand wrapped around the back of his head, his other tilting the painter’s chin up just slightly and pushed their lips into each other.

Vincent had to push down a grin. Oh, Jean… He was the true angel here. Even now he was making sure Vincent didn’t have to lift a finger, despite the fact he was holding a mistletoe above their heads. His other arm moved on its own, slowly and gently removing Jean’s eyepatch. The soldier shivered when the cold air hit the other half of his face, but no discomfort came from the fact it was revealed. It was Vincent, after all. He found beauty in everything, and it was starting to rub off on Jean.

It was a short kiss, but Vincent could taste the restrained passion on Jean’s lips. He was always shy about receiving affection, but couldn’t help but pour his passionate soul into each and every display of love he gave. Vincent’s heart swelled at the thought.

“I guess, I’ll say it again,” Vincent said, his face flushed, “Merry Christmas.”

Jean giggled softly, barely audible even to Vincent, whose nose was currently touching his. “And to you as well, mon ange. May I ask you a question?”

Vincent put his head back in his crossed arms, though after such a loving kiss, he was much more awake. “Of course, sunshine.”

“Where did you get this?” Jean asked, holding Vincent’s wrist and bringing the painter’s hand into both of their sights. The red and green plant was intertwined within his fingers.

“You’ll laugh when I tell you,” Vincent chuckled. “When I said I was waiting for you to come home, Arthur took it out of his pocket and gave it to me. He said something like: ‘Make sure you give’em a real Christmas miracle…’ or something like that.”

Jean blinked for a moment. Of course it was Arthur, but… Arthur of all people? Never in a million years did he think Arthur would want any hand in Vincent’s romantic affairs.

Well, now that he said that, Arthur absolutely would.

“He gave me a wink, too. I think he was trying to be dirty or something.”

Ah, there it was. Jean sighed.

Vincent then chuckled at Jean’s obvious dismay at Arthur’s actions. “He had good intentions,” he said, a slight pause in-between his words. A yawn came to him once again. Jean watched his lover’s sleepiness with loving eyes. Vincent could only reciprocate for a moment, before sleep came to embrace him. “... But I think I like this ending more.”

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jean #ikevamp vincent #Ikevamp jean x vincent #Ikevamp vincent x jean #ikevamp fanfic #christmas fic #christmas fluff #jean x vincent #vincent x jean

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spoilerontheloose · 13 days ago

Text

I like my odds too much

Twenty minutes if they tried to make it there like some lunatics auditioning for Cirque du Soleil. Seven minutes by bike -but only if the traffic didn’t suck, Gotham streets didn’t decide they were free-for-all pedestrian zones, and someone wasn’t trying to have a mid-life crisis in the left lane.

That’s how long it should take them to get to his apartment from Schwartz’s Bypass.

He knew the timing too well. He’d been counting those minutes, over and over, for an hour now. Like the route itself held some answer he hadn’t figured out yet.

Why? Because three nights ago, she’d been in his apartment, bandaging a cut he didn’t even need fixing -because apparently, her definition of first aid included ignoring insistence that he was fine and using his kitchen scissors to cut gauze.

And then, somehow, it happened. That thing. That stupid thing he never planned, happened. He said something stupid -not Sinatra stupid. Something so stupid it should’ve made her roll those pretty blue eyes and jump out the window. But she didn’t. She laughed -like, really laughed. Like, full-blown, genuine laughter.

And before he could stop it, before he could think straight, he’d kissed her. Because what else do you do after so long of not-flirting that was absolutely, one hundred percent flirting? Because if he didn’t kiss her, he was pretty sure he was going to implode. Exploded. Or some other dramatic thing that he’d never admit out loud.

And she’d kissed him back.

That...? That was the moment. The moment. The one that replayed in his mind every time he let it. Not that he meant to. Not that he could help it.

How had this even started?

In the span of a few short weeks, or months, or however long it had been -he wasn’t keeping track- something had changed. Something had definitely happened. He just wasn’t sure what. Or how. Or if it was even allowed to happen.

Damn, if he closed his eyes right now, he could see it all -her on his bed, breathless, the box of condoms almost empty, the way he couldn’t stop, the way she didn’t want him to stop, and how all of it felt terrifyingly good. Like it was a hunger he had always known but never thought to feed.

And yet... it’s been three days, and he still couldn’t make sense of it. Of her. Of the fact that she hadn’t bolted the second the sun came up like he half-expected she would. Like he half-wanted her to -because it would’ve been easier that way.

Fuck.

Red Hood sat atop the stupid bypass, legs swinging over the edge like a kid who didn't get the memo that gravity was still a thing. The city stretched out beneath him, still cloaked in that gauzy promise of dawn. It was the kind of sky that poets wrote about -Jason wouldn’t, of course, but he could see why someone might. The color matched her eyes, which annoyed him just enough to kick the air and tell himself he didn’t care about poetry. Much.

Beside him, Batgirl -third of her name, but first somewhere between his head and his chest and his goddamn everything- picked at a soggy hash brown like it had personally offended her.

This thing, their after-patrol thing or ritual -if you could call it that- wasn’t glamorous. Leaky coffee cups, grease-stained bags from a 24-hour diner that looked one health inspection away from disaster, and a skyline that made everything feel small.

But it worked. And for Jason, working was... enough. Or it used to be.

In the past, whenever they ended up meeting before sunrise, in these in-between moments where the city finally shut up for a while, Jason found himself clinging to them. To her. Meeting her in places, sitting side by side, was the one thing in his new life that made sense -somehow. Not perfect sense -he wasn’t that delusional- but the kind of sense that didn’t detonate if you leaned on it too hard.

That was before he came inside her. Now, just sitting this close was driving him crazy.

“Sooo,” she drawled, casually tearing apart the last bite of hash brown. “Back to where we left it. I gotta say, I’ll never, ever be into sensory deprivation -specifically the tied-up stuff. Oh, and choking. Like, why would someone do that willingly?”

Jason nearly inhaled his coffee. He didn’t choke on it so much as fight for his life. A sharp breath went wrong, and the next thing he knew, he was doubled over, hacking like he’d just swallowed a live grenade. Something was definitely lodged in his lungs -probably his own surprise too.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. This wasn’t something he was used to discussing, and certainly not like this -casual, so matter-of-fact like they were talking about the weather.

“Whoa, you okay, Hood?” she asked, code names and all, as she gave him a thump on the back. Not a gentle one, either -it had the precision of someone who’d likely performed the action to knock out a few unlucky thugs.

Jason waved her off with a grunt, still trying to regain his dignity -and oxygen. “Yeah, yeah. Just... you know, wasn’t expecting that over coffee and carbs.”

“What?” Stephanie shrugged, unbothered, as she tipped her coffee cup to her lips. “You’re the one who wanted to ‘know me better,’ remember? Full disclosure comes with fine print.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his glove, shooting her a look that was half-annoyed, half-amused. “Oh, sure. I just thought we’d, I don’t know, ease into it? Start with something less... neck-related?”

He coughed one last time for good measure, giving her a side-eye and her smirk sparked, bright and pretty, and Jason hated how much it lit up parts of him he tried to keep locked away.

“What brought that up, anyway?”

“Just tying up loose ends,” she quipped, and when he groaned at the pun, her grin widened. “Relax, Hood. I’m just saying -I don’t get BDSM. And I’m not into it. That’s all. Your turn.”

“My turn?” Jason repeated, incredulous. “Blondie, that’s not how this works. You can’t just drop that and then-”

“Can’t I?” She cut him off with a confidence that made his jaw clench. She leaned forward, her coffee cup tilted over his, half the contents spilling in like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s called sharing. You spill, I spill. Fair and square. Isn’t that how normal people bond?”

“Normal people bond over stuff like favorite bands or how they take their coffee-” Jason shot back, voice rising with that edge he couldn’t quite temper. “-not hot takes on bondage.”

“Fine,” she said with a shrug so casual it felt like a dare. “You drink your coffee black, and you’ve got a thing for Drake -the musician, not your replacement. See? We’re covered. Now, spill.”

It wasn’t the words that hit him, exactly. It was the way she said them. Light, breezy, as if ‘replacement’ was just another noun in her arsenal. But to Jason, it wasn’t.

Replacement.

That word landed with all the grace of a crowbar. It dragged up every fight he’d ever lost: the ones in alleys, in the Batcave, and in the suffocating quiet of his own head.

The replacement -his replacement- the golden child and former boyfriend who hadn’t screwed up. Who hadn’t died. Who hadn’t come back wrong.

Jason swallowed hard. The thought had wormed its way into his head, and all he could think about was that he was also the one she might’ve been spending time with on nights when the Red Hood wasn’t around.

He shoved the thought down fast, as deep as he could, but his chest tightened anyway. His eyes flicked to her, scanning her face for a tell. Was she teasing? Testing him? Or was it just... something else?

Why does she always bring him up when it’s just us?

He forced a grin, sharp at the edges because it was either that or let the silence eat him alive. “First of all, I do not have a ‘thing’ for Drake. Second, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m—”

“Spill,” she interrupted, sing-song, relentless.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stalling.”

His jaw tightened as he looked away, fixing his gaze on the Gotham skyline. The lights glittered against the smog, like answers he’d never find. But it gave him something to focus on. Something other than her. Something safer.

He exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate, forcing the tension to uncoil, piece by piece. “Alright,” he said, “Look, I get it. Why some people might be into it. Control, surrender, adrenaline... whatever floats their boat.”

His fingers found the back of his neck, rubbing absentmindedly like he could smooth out the thoughts that had been circling too long. “Maybe for some, it’s about letting go,” he added, softer now, like the words weren’t entirely meant for her or simply unfiltered -as if it could pass as insight if he kept it vague enough. “Think about it. People who’ve spent their whole lives white-knuckling control might find it... freeing. Not forever. Not with just anyone. But with someone they trust. Someone they choose to trust.”

The words stretched out longer than he expected, uncomfortably personal. Was this him talking? Was it too much? His throat tightened as he tried to gauge her reaction, his heart thudding a little too loudly. “Not that I’d know.” Jason shrugged, rushing to pull the mask back on. “But... I can see why some might want that.”

His eyes drifted to the river below, the gentle ripple of water offering an excuse to look away. But he could still feel her watching him, studying him like a book with pages still turned down, waiting for something to be written.

Fuck.

He hated how much her presence made him want to jump on the river, to disappear into the murky water, to hide in the darkness rather than be pulled into the light she was drawing him toward.

Stephanie leaned back, arms crossed with that quiet defiance of hers. "So, what you're saying, is that it's not about losing control. It's about... deciding who gets to hold the leash?"

He blinked, caught somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, tension still coiled tight in his shoulders. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached for his coffee, the paper cup warm in his hands, its solidity grounding him as he took a slow sip.

"Who knows..." he muttered, the words almost an afterthought, his head shaking like he was brushing the whole thing off. "Maybe some are tired of making decisions..."

"Sounds dangerous."

Jason let out a short laugh, this one almost genuine. “Gotham’s dangerous.” He glanced at her, motioning vaguely between them. “Look at us. You’re the girl who fights crime like the world’s sassiest grape, and I’m just some guy who... well...” He shrugged, his past creeping in uninvited. “Used to toss heads into duffel bags because... you know, feelings."

She leaned forward ever so slightly, watching him like she was deciphering some code only she could see, and he didn’t know how to stop her.

“Maybe,” she drawled, “you are tired of making decisions too...”

Jason shook his head before he even realized he was doing it, the instinct to deny kicking in like muscle memory. “I’m not.”

He wasn’t tired of making decisions. Not really. Decisions were easy. They were clear-cut, black-and-white -at least at the moment he made them. You charge in or you don’t. You pull the trigger or you don’t. Right or wrong, good or bad, decisions had rules.

“You sure?” she asked. “Because you’ve got about an hour and a half to figure that out. After that, I’ve got class.”

Jason blinked at her like she’d just spoken in some foreign language. His brain latched onto the words, replaying them like a broken record. Figure what out? Figure what?

“What?”

“I mean,” Stephanie said, her tone maddeningly calm, “if you wanted to try that out... we’re in a hurry to go somewhere else.”

The words did hit him like a live grenade. Mid-sip, his hand froze, the coffee cup suddenly a thousand pounds in his grip.

A punchline that wasn’t funny.

A decision he didn’t know how to make.

His brain stuttered, gears grinding like a machine out of sync, trying desperately to connect the dots. He thought he could recover -throw out a joke, deflect, brush it off like it didn’t matter. But his body wasn’t cooperating, and neither was the coffee.

“Shit!” he hissed, jerking back as hot liquid spilled over the rim and onto his chest. The shock jolted him out of his paralysis, but only barely. He fumbled at the stain on his pants and leather jacket, cursing under his breath as he tried to wipe it away.

“You... uh, you wanna what?”

Stephanie bit her lip, and Jason’s brain short-circuited again.

“Did I break you, Red Hood?”

He forced a laugh, brushing the mess off his uniform as if it was no more than an inconvenience. Maybe it was. But more likely, it was the pressure she’d put on him that was making it feel like a goddamn ticking bomb.

Jason’s laugh was a little too sharp, a little too loud, and it cut off abruptly as he caught the look she was giving him. That look. Like she knew exactly where the cracks in his armor were and how to press until something gave.

“Break me?” he said, straightening up like he was back in control. “Blondie, I’m the guy who crawled out of his grave. You think you can rattle me?”

“I don’t know,” she drawled, her voice light but her eyes steady. “I think you’re rattled enough already.”

He opened his mouth, a snarky retort teetering on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out. She wasn’t wrong, and that was the problem.

“You’re serious about this?”

“Dead serious.”

“And you think this is a good idea?”

Stephanie shrugged, leaning back in her spot, all casual confidence. “I think it’s an idea. Good or bad? There’s only one way to find out.”

He could almost hear the ticking of a clock, counting down the seconds, but he didn’t need it. The decision had already been made. He wasn’t going to overthink this. He wasn’t going to hesitate. And he knew how long it would take them to reach his apartment.

He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. Just as it happened three days ago, he let go of the tension.

It wasn’t about what was right or wrong. It wasn’t about saving face.

It was about what he wanted, what he needed.

And right now, what he needed was her. “Alright, Blondie,” he said, the edge in his voice smooth and sure, a shift in his entire demeanor as the control slipped back into his hands. “I’m game.”

2/4

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61096540/chapters/157408735#workskin

#stephanie brown #batgirl #jason todd #jaysteph #stephanie brown/jason todd #dc comics #dead robins club #even robins #ao3 fanfic

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vaspider · 1 year ago

Note

you run the Historicaly Queer pin kickstarter? It’s very cool, I like your selections, and I appreciate your explanations and nuance (and I also appreciate that you included asexual options). But I wanted to point out that Nanna (Sin) the Sumerian/Akkadian moon god and Inanna (Ishtar) the goddess of love and sex and war are two completely different gods. Inanna is usually depicted as Nanna’s daughter. Enheduanna what was a priestess of Nanna but she wrote hymns to many different gods, and her hymns to Inanna are now the most famous (partially because they’re comparatively very well preserved). This doesn’t detract from your main point, but the implication on the kickstarter that Nanna and Inanna are the same god was distracting!

Actually, there's no single answer on anything, and it depends on which sources you read, and from when, whether Nanna and Inanna are the same entity, whether Inanna is the daughter of Nanna and Ningal or the daughter of Enki or An, mother unknown. Whether she is even an Annuna or an Annunaki is disputed and changes. Her primary temple was the Eanna temple in Uruk, which was originally dedicated to An, and that further blurs her origins and stories, whether she was intended to be the same entity as An or Nanna changed into a different form (as happened with Lelwani, originally depicted as a god but who became a goddess when the Hittite religion was syncretized into the Akkadian religion after the Sumerian religion was swallowed by and incorporated into the Akkadian one).

"The Sumerian religion" covers a period of history spanning over two thousand years, and we only have firm records for about 600 or so of those years before the Sumerian religion was incorporated into the Akkadian one. Further, most of the writing that we have which covers the Sumerian religion at all comes from the Babylonians no earlier than the 17th century BC, from translations of Sumerian stories passed through Akkadian and into Babylonian some six hundred years after the effective end of "the Sumerian religion."

Stating anything singularly and definitively about these figures over the entire span of their worship is almost impossible, which is why we took the most fluid stance on identity possible.

I could probably go on about this for hours because I wrote the Annuna pantheon (I know, but we needed a single name, and 'Annuna and Annunaki' just doesn't roll off the tongue) in... two? three? books for Scion 2e, but I have to go make dinner.

But yeah, that's my pin project. :) Thanks for giving me the opportunity to ramble about the impossibility of making singular statements about these figures across the totality of their worship. I mean, just think about how much we don't get all of the references or understand everything about literature that's a hundred years old in our own language, and then imagine how impossible it is to make fully definitive statements about the identity/identities of blurred deities across at least three languages and 3000+ years!

#negatively interested in arguing about this #okay bye

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adreamingofguns · 7 months ago

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Reverse Unpopular Opinion: tell me what you love about Saw

Takes your hands. We are going on a journey. I'm probably doing the reverse unpopular opinion thing wrong but ❤️ it's 5 am by me. we deal.

Personally I like that some of the traps are done with practical effects, much to the detriment of the VERY ENTHUSIASTIC cast who are surprisingly chill with almost drowning IRL and/or having to suffer through wearing 30+ lbs of jagged steel while having the flu and/or actually being stuck in the shackle prop because there was a malfunction while everybody else goes for lunch and/or requesting real glass for the stunt scenes and insisting on throwing real punches in the stunt fights because they're a masochistic freak of an actor (the masochism isn't the bad part, the EVERYTHING ELSE about him sucks) Some of the worst traps and effects are when they use cgi. Looks bad, tom.

I also appreciate that the through-line of the movie is not only justice (and the malformations of it) but also love. Love is what drives the characters to do what they do!! At least three of the apprentices/jigsawers do what they do because they are doing it for love of another person!! And not even romantic love for most of them. I love that the fandom has led me to more friendships and sparked more creativity in me that was lacking for a while. I love that the cast list is just random b-c list actors and also Greg Bryk is there and every time I see him I get jumpscared. I love that it gave me an idea for a tattoo (original idea do not steal!!!) where it'll say "do you like how brutality feels?" but in the shape of a spiral and I kinda wanna get it on the inside of my forearm.

As the adage goes, one must cultivate their online experience because there are some WEIRD ASS headcanons out there. That being said, I love and appreciate the people who are normal about the fat characters. I love that people banded together against an artist who was very adamant and weird about drawing fat characters (which there are a few) like twinks. I wish they kept that energy going. I LOVE that seeing a specific fat character and the way he's built/the way people draw him voluptuously (😂) gives me so much gender euphoria. I love when people acknowledge this character as an erudite and well-dressed man with an art degree and a secret passion for home remodeling (this is canon) who also happens to be a fat man. Like fat people are real three dimensional human beings or something. He's also super deranged and mows down like 70+ people at once in a spree that ends in him stuck and trapped, possibly killed and possibly just held captive by a cunty evil doctor in the basement of his own home like how in the Sims game where you make somebody live in the basement and paint constantly so you can make money selling the paintings.

I love how a few months ago on Twitter the fandom came together to mourn as the bot that goes through the script line by line came to a particularly devastating part and that stupid image of the cat puppet from the OLD Dr Who

(this image) was the only thing keeping me sane while I was in the trenches of crying in school over stupid bullshit.

I did my final in my religion in film class about Saw and used the following image. My professor and classmates were wowed.

Sadly the accompanying paper sucked major ass (I wrote it in the span of an hour and it's ADHD core topic jumping like HELL) but it got me an A and the respect of my asshole professor 😂

I ALSO LOVE HOW SAW FANDOM POSTS KEEP ESCAPING CONTAINMENT AND GETTING POPULAR AMONG THE GENERAL NON-SAW FANS LIKE THAT 50 GUNS AND VIBRATOR IN THE CAR CUP HOLDER DASH THING MEME THATS A SAW POST

I kinda rambled a bit sorry 😂 here's a gif of Peepaw Jigsaw himself zooted off his ass and staring at a fishtank in his ex-boyfriend's office.

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spurious · 2 years ago

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some mcshep fic recs

So ever since I answered that ask from Mer about McShep fic recs, I've been thinking about posting more recs. I have been reading, like, so much fic because there just...is so much fic out there? As I intimated in the answer to that last ask, I am...not used to this amount of fic. The last ship I seriously read and wrote fic for has 58 English-language works on AO3, 17 of which were written by me (and another large handful of which were written for me lmao), so it's, uh, kind of amazing to just be able to read and read and read and read and...still have more?

I've been using my AO3 bookmarks, but sometimes bookmarking is simply not enough and you need to scream at people about the things you have read. So, without further ado...let me scream at you about the things I have read!

1) 264 Hours by Lenore | ~6k, rated E

Set after Seige. The battle is over, except in Rodney's mind.

This one is just some nice Rodney emotional pain content; he’s fucked up over the events of the siege and John is trying, in his opaque Sheppardian way, to help, but it takes a perceptive sex worker and a confrontation to really get through to Rodney. I liked where this went but I almost wanted it to be longer and really draw things out? For the Suffering I guess lmao

2) Long Long Road by Telesilla & padawanhilary | (series) ~50k, rated E

While shopping, two college students run into each other. Literally.

This is an AU (that converges to canon eventually), where John and Rodney meet while at Stanford and find a mutual enjoyment of both each other and kinky sex. There are two branching endings, both of which end happily, the sex is really very very hot and good, and overall there's something that I just find extremely...cozy? About this series? I've read it twice now and I just find it nice and comforting and enjoyable.

3) Sheppard’s Law by Speranza | ~35k, rated E

"Weird? You don't know what weird is. Weird is being in a-- with the-- and the crazy alien--" He stopped, incoherent, hands flailing. "And then your best friend is twelve, and you're his piano teacher. That--now, you're talking weird!"

Honestly the idea of me in the year of our lord two thousand twenty three reccing McShep fic written by Speranza is like...asking someone who likes pizza if they've ever tried pepperoni lmao. NEVERTHELESS. I've now read this fic twice. The first time I thought it was good, but for whatever reason it didn't make that big of an impression on me? I have a feeling it's one of the ones I read before we finished the series when I was trying to find stuff that didn't spoil later season events? So anyway I just sort of randomly decided to reread it recently, and it really wowed me on a second go-round. I think the big-ness of it can be hard to wrap your head around, but when you do it's like...you feel both full and hollowed-out by it at the same time, because it's huge but it's also a collection of these snapshots and small moments that make up the whole. Idk it's just...it's good ok, read it if you haven't!

4) Ritual by lamardeuse | ~5k, rated T

The history of a ritual.

Beer 👏 on 👏 the 👏 pier 👏 As a team ritual, as the story of John’s love for Rodney, and as a beautiful coda to the shrine. John's POV in this is so gorgeously done, the way he's convinced himself of what he can and cannot have and is trying to deal with it the best way he can, even when it's immensely painful. I also like how Jennifer's part in things is handled in this, in terms of her reaction to Rodney's profession of love and how it stacks up against...literally everything else that happens in that episode.

5) Dumbstruck by sgamadison & the_cephalopod | ~30k, rated E

His existence, as he remembered it, began eleven days ago. He knew the word day was what to call the cycle between a single span of sunlight and darkness, but he could not remember what groupings of days were called. He didn't think it mattered much.

Due to...shenanigans, John loses his memories and becomes unable to speak. The thing I really love about this is how well Rodney knows John; how even when John can't speak for himself, Rodney clearly has this mental catalogue of Sheppard Expressions and he can deftly read and describe them. It's just...it's nice.

Anyway, I'm thinking I might make this a regular thing. I like talking about fics I like!!! Send me an ask or whatever if you have types of recs you want to see? Idk?

#mcshep #i already have like 4 more on deck but i thought 5 at a time seemed more reasonable lol #fic rec

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television-bodies · 7 months ago

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20 questions for 20 writers!

thank you for the tag @aaronstveit ! <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 6! exactly one more than i had the last time i did this but if you think i'm passing up the chance to yap you'd be so mistaken

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 78,851

3. What fandoms do you write for? les mis <3

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

visting hours

suckerpunch

restoring the balance

tech week

the two sides of monsieur valentine

no one wants to read my major character death fic

5. Do you respond to comments? yes <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? aforementioned major character death fic until the end of everything. if things had gone according to original plans then this would have been my first les mis fic on ao3 which is so funny to think about

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? still tech week i believe. warm christmassy nice community love feelings going on there

8. Do you get hate on fics? not as of yet!!!!!! i hope this will not change!!!!!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? prev when you said no because you are afraid you were so real for that

10. Do you write crossovers? not directly however i do love to combine my interests (see the exr demolition lovers fic i keep mentioning)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? trembling a little i don't think so...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i have not!!!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? imagine if i said something other than enjolras and grantaire. just sprung something new on you guys right now

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? now this question hurts. never say never right except some things just feel so far off.... i think i've fully abadoned the les mis race across the world au that was my answer to this last time around, which means that now unfortunately it looks like my answer may be broken record (my exr music au that spans a decade) and i'd soooo love to actually write it but at the moment it is all in notes. y'know what as i'm writing this answer i think i'm almost making my future self need to write it just to spite this current version of myself so who knows, it may take me a decade to write it but i like to think that i will at some point

16. What are your writing strengths? the start of something always comes easily to me and i love descriptions.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? like. the middle. i know how it begins and ends but it's getting from one point to another that i think i struggle with the most

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? if you can do this i am in awe of you

19. First fandom you wrote for? i love to remember my answer for this: bram stoker's dracula

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? once i have published something i either a) forget most of it or b) begin to overthink and then hate it so my favourites are in my drafts. that being said i am still fond of suckerpunch. i wish i could rewrite certain parts of it but thats life

no pressure tagging @pumpkinspice-prouvaire @palmviolet @furtherfish @beetlesandstarss and anyone else who would like to do it!

#tag game #my fics

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kindlythevoid · 10 months ago

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For the ask game, 8?

Oh, goodness!

8. Fic that is near and dear to your heart?

All of them? Most of them? Anything I spent an appreciable amount of time on, spanning from half an hour to a few years? I feel like I may have answered this already, and I'm 90% sure that I answered (if I answered it at all) with Love the Bright Sword, my long, time travelling Merlin Fix-it fic that I've been working on for a few years and is currently part of a series.

So, that was my last answer (realized I didn't explain what it was? When the whole point of this game is that I explain everything?? How silly of me!).

My current answer? It'd have to be The Painter. I must have wrote it a few years back, but I'm almost certain it was my first drabble. Or, well, first one-shot that I didn't want to be turned into a full story or series or what-have-you. It's old, and maybe not the most well-written story I've done, but I truly think it's captured my style. A little descriptive, a little vague, some funny, some serious. IDK, but I re-read it and I read it in my voice (or at least I hope I did, ha ha!). I wrote it back when I was watching a lot more Bob Ross videos, and I must have been playing Assassin's Creed at the time. Truth be told, Connor isn't my favorite Assassin, but he gets crap in the fandom, and I can totally relate to his introverted ways that I love him to bits. I really tried to be respectful (which is probably why it's so vague, ha ha!) and only use what was explicitly stated in canon (I definitely got at least one name from the DLC and I'm pretty sure I copied and pasted his full name from the wiki page). As it stands, I'm really proud of it. It ended up being my first fic on Ao3, too! While it certainly doesn't have the most hits or kudos or what-have-you, I am proud to say that it has the best kudos-to-hits ratio!!

Thanks for asking!! :D

Kindly,

The Void

#aaand just like last time I realize I gave it no plot indicators #yeah it's an assassin's creed fic about Connor's relationship with painting over time #it's not NOT canon!!#but yeah painter!connor lives in my heart rent free <3 #ask #assassin's creed 3 #assassin's creed #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #kiki writes #yeah I linked it in the post if anyone wanted to give it a read <3 #a little long but i'll keep it not under keep reading

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juliasdowntonstuff · 1 year ago

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So, about a week ago I did a writing-WIP-tag here on tumblr and that caused an old drabble to resurface thanks to @bella-caecilia. In the last few days I finished it and reworked it a couple times. That did not help in the least - in fact, it only made it worse (classic case of verschlimmbessern) so now I’ve decided to just put it out here to prevent me from making it even worse.

The prompt I used was given to me a by a friend and it was: "I don't need a lot to be happy"

you can also find it on ao3: click here

My dearest Robert,

I hope this letter reaches you well and in good health, wherever you are right now. I still do not dare to imagine what your daily life looks like and what horrors you are facing. But enough about that — I am sure you want to hear about home.

You will not believe what our daughters did yesterday afternoon. The three of them put on a show for me and your Mama! Edith played the piano — her lessons have not been wasted, I can assure you — while Mary sang so beautifully for us. And darling Sybil danced to their music. What a sight to behold.

It baffles me time and time again how Mary and Edith can be so nasty towards each other and fight all day long, and then put on such a nice show together immediately afterwards. Even Carson clapped excitedly for the girls and their efforts — Mary had insisted he stay and watch the show, as you can imagine.

Apart from that, nothing much has happened since the last time I wrote to you. Life has been slow, and the weather is still cold and windy, not at all pleasant enough to go on strolls alone. Oh, how I miss our daily walks, my dear!

I hope you get to come home soon, at least on leave from the front. I need to see you, my darling one.

But until my tired soul sets eyes on you again, I remain your longing, loving wife

Cora

Robert had had a bright smile on his face when an officer handed him the envelope with his wife's neat writing on it, even more so when he found not one, but two letters in the envelope. Reading his wife's letter first, that smile stayed there and almost extended all the way to his ears. He must have looked like a fool, but he frankly could not care less. He was a man deeply in love with his wife, and who could blame him for that?

She did not write much about life at home, she never did. She missed him, just like he missed her and their family, and that did not improve with writing about it too often, both of them had found. She had stopped writing those long letters full of stories of what happened at home months ago. At first, he had not noticed, he had been too preoccupied with the raging war. Still, when her letters had turned from spanning several pages to barely scraping the bottom of one single page, he had started to worry and eventually posed that question in one of his letters. Her reasoning had only been all too understandable when she replied and it made him miss his family even more.

He could not wait to get home.

Two and a half years. That's how long he had already been stationed in South Africa. He had seen his family only a handful of times in the many months since he got called up to serve his queen and country at the front. Even when he got leave, it was rarely enough to travel all the way back to England and see them. This war had cost him over two precious years of his life already. More than two valuable years he did not get to spend with Cora and their daughters and he couldn't wait to get home, hopefully for good in the near future.

Home. Downton Abbey.

He could still picture vividly the abbey's striking architecture as it rolled into view when one came home from the station or simply went on a long walk across the estate. He was proud, incredibly so, that he was the one to call this his home.

If only he was already standing at the gates to the estate.

But he was not. Not yet, anyway. Robert was still on a boat. One that was set to land in Southampton in only a matter of hours. Sure, he would still have to board several trains to take him up to London, then on to York, Ripon and then finally to Downton.

Home was already well within his reach. He had sent a letter to Taylor when he was on his way back to England to inform him of his arrival in the village but asked the chauffeur to keep it to himself as a surprise for her ladyship. By god, the young Earl hoped his chauffeur had listened and kept it to himself.

Then, on the train taking him to London, Robert had finally found the time and peace to read the letter his daughters had sent him. It was clear that Mary was the one who wrote it — he knew her writing that looked mature and meticulously placed for her age only too well. Reading the words she had written in seemingly hasty penmanship made his heart only grow heavier than it already was. He hated to think of his dear wife in such a state that even their daughters couldn't lighten her mood with a joint performance. Those were rare enough as they were. And it only made him want to get home even quicker.

Dearest Papa,

We sincerely hope you are somewhere safe and not getting yourself in danger.

Mama only just now told us we could write a few lines and put them into her envelope to be sent to you along with her letter, but we do not have much time.

All of us miss you so terribly much and we cannot wait for the next time you get home on leave. It seems like we have already forgotten what you look like — Edith and I have had quite the argument about the colour of your hair. She says it is a very, very dark blond, while I think your hair is a shade of brown. You do need to settle this for us, so please come home soon!

Mama has not been feeling too well since the last time you were home to see us. Ever since you left again, she has been in her room for most of her days and has not taken much interest in anything apart from tea with us and Granny. She looks so awfully, awfully sad all the time and we have not managed to cheer her up for long. Edith and I even played the piano and sang for her while Sybil danced!

Granny said that she is worried about Mama's lack of interest, and I have never seen her look so concerned.

Please, come home very soon, Papa!

That is all we wish for.

Promise us to please stay safe and think of us every once in a while.

Mary, Edith, and Sybil

Oh, he would give anything to see the scene of his daughters trying to cheer their mother up. He would give anything just to see their happy little faces look up at him.

What would his darling girls say once they caught sight of him in this state — his arm in a sling, covered in bandages, a healing gash on his forehead? His wounds and bruises were the sole reason he got granted this longer leave that allowed him to travel home to his family. He had not told them of his injury, not even Cora. He simply couldn't get himself to write those horrid words on paper.

Cora.

How would his beloved wife react when she saw him, battered and bruised as he was?

It was the beginning of May, and what a nice day it was.

Finally, after weeks of nothing but horribly dull weather in all of England, the sun had made a rare reappearance. For the first time in weeks, Cora wanted to go outside and maybe sit on the bench for a while — she would have to ask Thompson for her light coat in a few minutes. Cora had not been outside for longer than a few minutes in at least a month, but that had not entirely been to blame on the weather. Similarly, she had not even responded to any of the invitations to luncheon or tea with her mother-in-law down in the village in the dower house. A fact that would likely turn into a lengthy argument when she would next meet Violet, which was inevitably quite soon.

Cora knew that she should take more of an interest in the estate and entertain more of her acquaintances. But truth be told, she did not feel like it and she had no great aspirations to spend evenings with women who looked down on her because of her heritage, not when Robert wasn't there to cheer her up with a look or a stolen kiss.

She had not seen her husband in well over 9 months, and his last letter had reached her over a month ago. He had never taken so long to respond and it concerned her greatly. What if something happened to him, what if he wasn't coming home?

All of this uncertainty only further added to her uneasiness and sudden need for constant solitude. She found no real joy in things she once loved, and not even her daughters had managed to lift the heavy clouds weighing down on her.

Cora was standing at her bedroom window, looking out over the green grass in front of the house and the gravel path that stretched all the way down to the gates of their estate when she saw a carriage ride up to the house drawn by two horses.

They were not expecting anyone, were they? Or had she forgotten about a visitor? No, that could not be — someone would have reminded her; Mrs Hughes would have, surely.

Quickly, Cora turned and left the well-known comfort of her bedroom to rush downstairs and see who came to see them without prior announcement. Just when she arrived downstairs and crossed the threshold of the grand entryway, their butler opened the carriage door to let whoever was riding in the back step out onto the gravel.

There he was in his khaki uniform, climbing out of the carriage with a bright smile plastered onto his sun-kissed face.

Her eyes must be deceiving her, or maybe this was all just a dream.

Had Carson not looked so surprised himself, she would have believed that this was just wishful thinking, a rather vivid daydream at most. But he was here, he was home. Robert was home.

With three quick and long strides, he reached her, stopping only a metre in front of her when she did not move. His bright smile slowly turned into a frown when she still did not show any reaction to his presence.

"Cora," he said, trying to sound encouraging, and it seemed that this finally snapped her back into reality.

"Are you really here? Or are you just a figment of my imagination?" she breathed, looking up into his excited face.

"I am really here, my dear. I got granted enough leave to travel home at long last," he replied, taking off his beige military hat with his gloved left hand.

Then, without any warning, she closed the gap between them and fell into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck almost on their own accord and she pulled herself up into his embrace.

While trying to hold her tightly to him so that she would not fall, he winced and drew in a sharp breath. The sudden impact of her body on his was painful, and so was his right arm being squeezed between their bodies, but he couldn't deny relishing in the familiar sensation he had been deprived of for so long.

"Robert?" she asked alarmedly when she heard his sharp intake of breath. Only then, having stepped away from her husband again, she noticed the sling his right arm was in and caught sight of the already healing cut on his forehead. "Robert, what happened?" she gasped.

"Don't you worry, darling. I was wounded, but not too badly, and they gave me leave to convalesce a little. It is not as bad as it looks, I assure you, my dearest," Robert replied before making a start for the main entrance of his ancestral home. "Where are the girls?"

"They are on a walk with Nanny, I believe," Cora said, not at all sure if this was truly the case. Maybe they had gone on that walk the day before, or maybe Nanny had asked for the day ahead? Cora couldn't remember, she hadn't paid close enough attention. Their girls were not all that little any more, and she trusted their Nanny. It's not that she did not care — she did care, a lot! She just couldn't get her mind to focus on anything lately. Not even on her daughters' whereabouts.

"Good, so you can tell me all about what happened without us being interrupted over a cup of tea," he smiled as they went into the library.

///////////////////////////////

"Cora, I have to ask," Robert said after she had given him an account of what had happened in the last few months since he had last been home to England in August. By the sounds of what she told him, everything seemed perfectly alright, but that did not go well with what his daughters had written. Adding to that, he knew his wife well enough to know that she liked to keep her sadness to herself to spare the feelings of others.

"What is it, darling?"

Cora looked at him wide-eyed, expectation and fearful anticipation clearly visible on her still youthful features while her hands closed around the empty teacup she held close to her chest, sitting up straighter on the settee.

Robert scooted closer, carefully taking one of her hands in his. While she was trying to avoid his gaze, his eyes searched her face worriedly. Calmly, he said: "How have you been, truly?"

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked, pretending to sip from the empty teacup in her hands.

"The girls wrote to me and they said you were incredibly unhappy, hiding away in your bedroom most of the time. They even said that Mama was worried about you. Speaking of which — she, too, wrote to me, about 6 weeks ago, stating that you have ignored all her invitations to come down to the Dower House and also haven't invited her to come here, either. I know you haven't been entertaining, that is somewhat understandable. But this is not like you, dear, no matter how hard she is being on you."

"Nothing gets past you, then," she replied dejectedly. "You know everything, even when you are half a world away. It's true, I have not been feeling my best in recent weeks."

"What can I do? What do you need to be happy again?"

"I don't need a lot to be happy, Robert, you know that," she said dismissively, glancing shyly to the ground near the fireplace.

"Yes, I do know that. But what does it take for you to be happy now? There must be something, surely."

"I need to know you're safe," she replied, finally meeting his gaze.

"And you shall have that for at least another fortnight still," Robert replied, taking her slender fingers in his bigger, unscathed hand.

That was not entirely what she meant and he knew that, but a fortnight was all he had to offer, no matter how much he wished it was more.

"What happened?" she then asked, motioning to his arm to bridge the silence that had fallen over them.

"We were under attack during the night, we had not seen it coming. They cornered us, but we fought back. I was lucky that my batsman had been awake, he warned me just in time, he saved me. We managed to get away, not unscathed, obviously. He had to be taken to a military hospital to get stitched up while they sent me home. So many of our fellow men didn't. But enough about tha-"

Suddenly, squeals of delight filled the library when the three girls entered, almost running to their father but remembering their lessons in etiquette and good behaviour.

"Papa?"

"Papa! It is you!"

"I knew that was your voice I heard from out in the hall!"

It was little Sybil in her light blue dress who first asked: "Papa, what happened to your arm?"

"Oh, that. It's nothing for you to worry about. Papa fell badly and needs to let his arm rest for a little while longer. That is why the doctors gave me a sling."

"And what about your forehead, Papa?" Mary asked curiously.

"Like I said, I took a rather bad fall. But this, too, shall heal again, I have no doubts about that. And now come here and let me hug you," he laughed, opening his arms for his three young daughters.

They all but ran towards him again, throwing their short arms around him while squealing in delight.

"Mary, Edith?" he asked as his daughters hugged him.

Dutifully, they all let go of him, stepped away and looked at him expectantly.

"Yes, Papa?"

"I hope you did not give your mother and Nanny too many grievances while I was away?"

The two elder girls looked at each other rather guiltily, but it was Sybil who eventually replied: "They did fight a lot, but I managed to calm them down, apologise to each other and then make them play nicely again every single time."

The young girl looked up proudly at her father, bouncing on her feet so that the hem of her dress swayed animatedly with her movements.

"That was very good of you, Sybil, my dear. Thank you," Robert said as he patted his youngest's head. Turning to face Edith and Mary he added: "Now, the two of you have undoubtedly noticed that I have not yet replied to your last letter and there is still an unresolved argument, isn't there?"

"What do you mean, Papa?" Edith asked sheepishly, her eyes flitting from her father to her mother and back again to her father.

"Well, I gather the two of you have been fighting about the colour of my hair, haven't you?"

"Oh, that. That was nothing, Papa. It was just a silly argument, I should not have mentioned it," replied Mary hastily, trying to diminish the fight she mentioned in the letter to their father. It was, after all, a truly banal question that she posed.

"Was it really silly if you indeed argued over it?" he said when his daughters both shook their heads no rather shamefully. "No, I didn't think so. If you were to ask your Granny for photographs and paintings of me in my youth, you would find that my hair indeed used to be lighter. I had blonde hair when I was a child, with a hint of red in it, just like Aunt Rosamund. Then, as I grew older, it got darker until the darker shade of blonde I had in my youth had turned into brown. Until finally, in the last few months especially, it has started to turn increasingly more grey."

The Earl leant forward in his seated position and pointed towards his temples to let his daughters inspect what he had just told them. And it was true, the hair at his temples was already turning considerably grey, even though he had not yet reached 40.

Just then, Nanny came to call the girls upstairs for their bath. Diligently, Mary and Edith bid their parents goodbye and quickly dashed upstairs. Only Sybil stayed back and moved closer to her father.

With her voice barely above a whisper — as if she were to plot something with him — she said: "You know, Papa, they didn't fight badly about this. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I can't let them lie to you and mama. They didn't fight about the colour of your hair. In fact, they never truly argued about your hair at all, we simply talked about you, what we remembered about you and how much we missed you. This was all just a plan we came up with that was meant to get you to come home to us faster. We thought if we exaggerated things, you might be able to come home. I am sorry," the young girl said, bowing her head ashamedly.

"Sybil, darling, I know."

"You do?" she asked. Her brown eyes were wide when she looked back up at her father with surprise and shock

"Yes, of course. Why would you ever seriously fight about something so insignificant like the colour of my hair? And I am not mad about this plan of yours, not in the least. I wouldn't even have been mad if they had argued."

"You would not?" Sybil asked.

"You would not?" Cora echoed her daughter, almost at the same time and just as surprised.

Robert quickly smiled at Cora before turning back to face his daughter. He took Sybil's small hands in his.

"Sybil, your sisters argue over many things. They always have and they likely always will. They are very different people, and both have inherited their mother's strong determination, as have you. That leads them to argue a lot, but they are still sisters. They love you and they love each other, they just can't show it. They don't know how. This plan of yours just shows that you care; all of you do, and I am glad for it. So no, I am not mad that you lied."

Sybil beamed brightly at him, more than relieved that her Papa was not cross with any of them for their deception, and quickly made to leave the room and follow her sisters upstairs.

"But only this once, little lady," he shouted after her when she was already out the door.

Her head peeked back around the wooden door again, still smiling widely, as she said: "Of course, Papa, we will never lie, ever again!"

Her parents shared a laugh at that, both knowing this to be quite far from the truth. Neither of them was an only child, after all. Just when they thought they had the library to themselves again and Robert made to kiss his wife, Carson entered with a silver tray in hand. Starting to get quite irritated by the interruption, he asked rather harshly: "What is it now, Carson?"

"I am sorry to interrupt you, milord, but this just arrived for you," the butler replied as he lowered the tray for him to retrieve the envelope. "I will also ring the dressing gong in a minute." Then, turning to face the lady of the house, he said: Oh, and the Dowager Countess has also sent word that she will arrive very soon. She will stay for dinner and she will not take no for an answer this time."

"Thank you, Carson," both of them said in unison, and Robert helped his wife up from the settee. He knew she would immediately want to go down to the kitchens and report the change in the menu to their still rather new cook and inform her of the two extra stomachs that needed to be filled.

Sure enough, Carson rang the gong as soon as he was out in the hall again and soon after that, Violet arrived at the abbey. All evening, Robert wanted nothing more than to finally be alone with his wife. And yet, his mother, who was understandably quite joyous about his leave of convalescence, simply would not leave that night.

///////////

It was almost midnight by the time they were alone in her bedroom, both exhausted after the events and surprises of the day.

Lying in bed, Robert watched his wife, who was still sitting at her dressing table and took off her jewellery. He saw how preoccupied she seemed, that her mind was somewhere miles away. Cora had her brow furrowed and pensively took off her right earring while staring at her reflection in the mirror with a frown on her face.

"Cora, what do you truly need to be happy?"

"I told you already, darling. I don't need much to be happy."

"Yes, I know you don't. But what is it that you truly need or desire? What would make you feel better?" Robert pressed on.

Silence.

For a minute, a deafening silence filled the otherwise cosy bedroom. His wife looked at him through the mirror on the vanity. She let her gaze wander from the long laceration on his forehead to his arm resting limply in the sling, and then back up to his face.

"You, Robert. You are who and what I need. I need you with me, here at Downton, and not away on another continent fighting for your life every single minute of every single day. I need you here with me. I need to be sure that you're safe, that you are far out of harm's way. I need to know you're alive, that you'll come home to me."

Cora turned and finally looked at him.

When he did not reply, she added: "It seems like I have steadily gotten worse at coping without you here. It is true, what the girls wrote in their letter to you. I have been unhappy and I have been ignoring your mother's messages and invitations. I am honestly quite surprised I did not get an earful about that tonight. No doubt that was only because of your unforeseen presence."

"I think you might be right about that, dearest," he chuckled. The same thought had crossed his mind already, as well, and it would be in his mother's character.

"Robert, I mean it. Look at you, you have been hurt badly-"

"It could have been worse, so much worse. So many of my comrades will never return home like I did. But I had a lucky charm that saved me. Which reminds me-"

As gracefully as he could, he hoisted himself out of bed and went to his dressing room. Cora only heard how he rummaged through something, muttering under his breath, until he eventually returned and took a seat on the cushioned bench at the foot of their bed.

"I want you to have this back," he said, extending his left hand.

With surprise written all over her face, Cora looked at what he tried to give her.

It was her lucky charm, the small toy dog she had insisted Robert take with him to the front when he was first called up. Her father had given it to her when she was a young girl and it had always brought her luck, and so she wanted Robert to have it. He would need all the luck he could get, she had figured.

"No, Robert. You need it. I can't take it from you."

"You can. Your lucky charm did its trick, it saved me. I am here, am I not? Please, I insist."

Once again, he urged her to take the toy, extending his arm further towards her.

"No, take it back with you. This time, you and your batsman were only injured. But god knows what will happen next time," Cora replied adamantly.

She took his hand and closed it around the small dog, trying to push Robert's hand back towards his chest.

"Cora, take it, please. I have no use for it any longer. There is nowhere left I could take it."

"I don't understand?"

"The mysterious letter Carson brought this afternoon. I never told you what it was about, did I?"

Seeming more than slightly confused about the sudden change of subject, Cora shook her head no. They hadn't had a chance to talk since then, and she had already forgotten about the letter delivered to him, if she was completely honest with herself.

"It was a telegram from the general I served under in Africa. He said that the last of the guerillas finally surrendered a few days ago and that a treaty is currently in the works, waiting to be signed. That will put an end to this war once and for all. I don't need your lucky charm any longer because I'm staying. I'm staying for good this time, Cora," he smiled.

"You will never have to go back there?" she asked, bewilderment written all over her features.

"No. I will never have to go back there. The war is over for me, for us. I am home and I wanted you to be the first person to know."

Robert tried again to give Cora the toy. And this time, she took it. Gladly. She stood up and put it on her nightstand before getting into bed, waiting for him to do the same.

He lifted the covers on his side of the bed and slid under them, carefully trying not to move his arm too much. Once she had finally settled into bed next to him and her head was resting on his chest as she snuggled up to him, he asked: "Cora, are you happy now?"

"I told you, I don't need a lot to be happy," she replied. "And this proves it. Yes, I am so very happy."

"Good, so am I."

#downton abbey fanfiction #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #drabble #oneshot #boer war

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