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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

512 notes · View notes

jungblue · 4 years

Text

aphrodite in war | 01

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: comedy, fluff, angst, eventual smut / greek life, fake dating, roommates, lovers to enemies and back to lovers au

word count: 11,022

description: Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle... Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

note: here is an audio post of a beautiful song with lyrics inspired by AiW, which was written by one of my lovely readers!

→ part 02

Hostility bleeds deep. The rivers of resentment collide violently as they carve a divide so saturated in disdain between the parties involved that you don’t even need to be told that there is something more to the story. It doesn’t need to be said out loud, but is just instinctively felt.

You didn’t need to be told that the ominous house at the end of street was sketchy and should be avoided at all cost; you just knew it. You didn’t need to be told that there was bad blood between the guy and girl whose jaws suddenly stiffened as their lips transformed into a firm, straight line when they caught sight of each other at a party; you just knew it — And you most certainly didn’t need to be told that there was an absolute war brewing at the end of Greek Drive between the Tri Delts and Lambdas; you just fucking knew it.

In the beginning, their rivalry was small. It was simple antics such as egging each other’s houses or fucking around with the letters that they so proudly displayed on their lawns. But then it turned a bit more intense. Egging the houses turned into spray-painting them and fucking with the letters on their lawns turned into completely trashing each other’s lawns. It was because of this that the once harmless pranks turned infamous. Everything that happened between their houses had constantly been circulated around campus for the past two years, or at the very least among their Greek counterparts… Which was probably how the two newly inducted presidents of Delta Delta Delta and Lambda Phi Epsilon, on the very first week of their final year in college, found themselves sitting in the office of a much higher power than their own titles — The president of their university; a single word spilling past his lips that had their stomachs twisting.

“Suspension!?” They both yelled in disbelief.

It was a word no organization wanted to hear. It branded your chapters with a shame that would be painted across the local news stations and even across the country. The lines would blur, only to lump them in with those terrible hazing stories that constantly flooded the media.

“P-president Kwon,” Jungkook finally stuttered out after a moment of coming to terms with the seriousness of the situation they were being faced with. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I promise the very... minor pranks that go on between our houses are probably much less problematic than what you’re thinking.”

“Mr. Jeon, do you think that we would threaten something of such dramatic action without several instances of confirmed proof?” President Kwon asked in a clipped tone as he leaned forward in his chair.

You could see the way that Jungkook blanched next to you, clearly not expecting this harsh treatment from President Kwon. Lambda Phi Epsilon happened to be President Kwon’s former fraternity, so it was well known that there was a good relationship there. However, in this moment you could make out nothing except for a glaring, red warning shining off the president’s ice-cold eyes.

“I — no, sir,” Jungkook whispered, dropping his head slightly to hide the sudden flush of red that was rushing to his face.

“It is more embarrassing than I can possibly describe to the two of you, receiving dozens upon dozens of phone calls and emails over the incidents involving your organizations. Garbage littering every inch of your front yards, obscene images drawn onto your houses, several instances of animal control having to be called due to rodents being set free in the house as a… as a prank? All of this is happening while visits from prospective students and their parents are being conducted. Donors who help this school are wandering the campus and seeing it. Tell me, did the incidents I just mentioned not actually transpire, Mr. Jeon? Ms. Y/L/N?”

The air was so stiff that you barely managed a shaky inhale in order to respond to the juvenile antics being laid out before you. “No, th-they did transpire, sir. And I don’t know what to say besides that I’m so, so sorry that we’ve embarrassed the university this way.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, President Kwon’s relentless glare of disappointment cutting you through and through.

“Yes, so completely sorry,” Jungkook added.

Nothing was said for a few moments after that. It seemed President Kwon wanted to make the two of you squirm for everything that you had done, and it was definitely working. Every movement made you feel self-conscious, the judgement permeating the office air felt as if it were sticking to your skin.

“I know that what we’ve done is completely unacceptable, President Kwon,” You began, not being able to take the silence anymore. “But I promise if you give us just one more chance, we’ll clean up our acts. No more pranks, just cordial neighbors. As the new presidents of our chapters this year, we’ll make sure the members understand that this behavior isn’t something that will be tolerated anymore.”

Jungkook was nodding his head next to you in agreeance. But once again the room was plunged into silence. It was honestly torture, sitting there under such scrutiny as someone held something so dear to you in the palm of their hand. It would break your heart if the suspension actually went through… Considering it was yours and Jungkook’s fault that tensions had gotten to where they were in the first place. The bad blood between the two of you had seeped into the minds of your members as well, which was ultimately how it got so ugly. But it had gotten especially bad this year now that you were the respective presidents of each of your houses and had allowed things to escalate further. Harsh feelings between two people couldn’t do much damage, but when it was dozens versus dozens, well that was when things got messy.

Eventually though you found yourself being pulled back to reality. President Kwon cleared his throat, the sound making your heart stutter in your chest as you prepared yourself for the worst.

“You’re exactly right. It won’t be tolerated any longer.” He paused for a moment, probably for the added effect of letting anxiety seize its way around your lungs. “Probation for the next three months. One more incident and it’s over. Do you understand?”

At that there was a simultaneous sigh of relief from you and Jungkook as the looming consequence faded… At least for now.

“Thank you so much, President Kwon.” Jungkook stood from his chair, reaching across the table to shake his hand. “I promise we won’t mess this up.”

You lifted yourself up from your chair as well, following his lead. “Yes, we promise.”

“I hope that’s true,” Is all President Kwon responded with as he led the two of you towards the door of his office. “Take care.”

With rather mumbled and rushed goodbyes you exited his office, the two of you shuffling quickly down the hallway until you were sure you were out of earshot. Both of you stopped as you turned the corner, insults already resting on the tips of your tongues.

“This is all your fucking fault!” You yelled in a hushed whisper.

“My fault!?” He whispered back, equally as intense. “You’re the one who started this shit, Y/N. No one would even be fighting if you hadn’t opened your mouth to your friends.”

“I was just venting to them! I had no idea that they would go and actually do something about it. And it was a harmless prank. They planted fucking flowers in front of your house for god’s sake, and your loser friends retaliated by digging holes in our yard. You guys are the ones who escalated it, and now it’s this out of control thing that’s going to get our chapters suspended!” Your chest was rising and falling, anger boiling inside of your blood. You had never even partaken in any of the antics that had gone on between the two houses nor had you baited any of your members into participating.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, tongue pressing at the inside of his cheek. “You know what? It’s whatever. We’ve been arguing about this for two years now, so I’m not expecting you to be reasonable any time soon.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, the painful reminder of how long this had been going on searing a deep cut across your chest. But it was like Jungkook had said, this had been going on for a long time and there was no point in arguing about who was right, because it wasn’t as if it actually mattered. So instead, you just didn’t respond. You stared at him for a moment, sneer fading into this sad downward turn of your lips. And surprisingly you watched the way his expression softened as well. His brows were furrowing a little less, his jaw not as hard and brooding.

You gave him a tiny nod before you turned away and headed towards the exit. It was a few seconds before you heard his footsteps start to follow you. Every time his sneakers would squeak against the linoleum floor behind you, it felt like this tiny pressure was beginning to build at the base of your throat. You weren’t sure why you still got these feelings of… longing, even after all of this passed time. It was pathetic. Jungkook apparently didn’t long for anything from back then, so why did you?

Eventually you were able to breathe a little clearer once you pushed your way through the exit and away from the tight and tense space of faculty meetings and suspension threats. The fresh air filled your rattled lungs — too bad it was murky and humid beneath the gray storm clouds that were currently drowning the campus in a depressing drizzle.

“Goddammit,” You muttered beneath your breath.

You didn’t drive here since this building had been so close to your last class of the day. The Tri Delt house was about a ten minute walk from here, so it looked like you needed to get going before the light sprinkle of rain turned into a thunderstorm. You were about to step out from underneath the overhead of the roof and down the steps when you felt a light tug of someone pulling at the back of the belt loop on your jeans.

“Do you need a ride?” Jungkook asked before you had even turned around to fully face him. His expression was neutral. It didn’t seem annoyed or concerned, but he had always been good at hiding his emotions like that.

Of course you didn’t want to walk home in the rain, but sitting in a confined space with Jungkook after you’d both just gotten done yelling at one another didn’t seem like the greatest time either. But in the end, you decided that a few minutes wouldn’t kill you. “Yeah, I guess,” You whispered, motioning for him to go ahead so you could follow. His car was parked in one of the first spots at the bottom of the steps. You were both silent as you opened the doors and climbed inside.

It was weird. You hadn’t been in Jungkook’s car in years. You watched him pull out of the parking space, one hand on the wheel, the other leaning against the center console. It felt all too familiar. You blew a heady sigh past your lips, hands wringing in your lap. It didn’t seem to matter how much time passed, the tension between you and him never seemed to lessen. It was a constant, palpable stiffness in the air.

“Do you think we’ll be able to get them to stop fighting?” Jungkook finally asked once they turned onto Greek Drive, giving some mild relief to the strain that the two of you were so highly aware of.

“If suspension doesn’t do it, then I honestly don’t know what would.”

He nodded, seeming to agree. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll cut it out.”

“Yeah, they can’t be that dumb—” However, your words seemed to disintegrate along your tongue as the car approached the Lambda and Tri Delt houses that stood side by side.

“Jesus Christ,” Jungkook muttered, pulling into the driveway which currently had a Lambda named Jimin running down it towards his truck that was completely covered in saran-wrap and a laughing Tri Delt named Joy who was holding said saran-wrap.

“Get back here and take this shit off my truck right now!” You heard Jimin yell.

“Nope, I’m good.” She smiled, shrugging and taunting him as she jogged away.

“This… This might be harder than we thought,” You said.

Jungkook rested his head against the steering wheel, eyes closed. “Yeah, way fucking harder.”

---------

It was several mass group texts later, demanding that every Lambda and Tri Delt come to their houses immediately, that all forty-two members of the combined organizations who actually lived in-house finally arrived… Yeah, there was no way that this could go terribly wrong or anything… Right?

You and Jungkook stood in front of the members as they gathered on the grassy area that separated your two houses. As expected there were dozens of mumbled conversations transpiring, all speculating on what the hell was going on here. You looked to Jungkook, giving him a nod to tell him that they should start.

He cleared his throat, clapping his hands together, resulting in large boom that got everyone’s attention. “All right, listen up. We have something important we need to discuss.”

“Jungkook, why the hell are the Tri Delts here?” A Lambda named Yuta yelled out.

“Because we can be, asshole.” It was Jennie.

“Who’re you calling an asshole?” Taehyung asked, even though he had nothing to do with it.

“Your dickhead friend,” Sana responded, again even though it had nothing to do with her.

And then Chanyeol chimed in, followed by Momo, which then got escalated by Johnny and continued by Dahyun. After that you lost track of who was arguing because it just became a giant clusterfuck of people yelling and this was the perfect example of how this entire war started — people getting involved in the business of others that didn’t even concern them.

You started rubbing at your temples, fingernails digging into your palms. This was enough. “Shut the fuck up!” You yelled, a loud echo that reverberated through the air and hushed everyone into silence. “This is why you’re all here.” You motioned towards them.

“What do you mean?” Someone asked from the back. “What’s going on?”

“Me and Y/N had a meeting with President Kwon today,” Jungkook paused, releasing a deep sigh before continuing. “He said that if we all keep publicly fighting the way we have been… that our chapters will get suspended.”

There was a small pause, as if it didn’t immediately click with everyone what had been said — and then the panic set in.

“What?!”

“No fucking way!”

“He can’t be serious!”

“That’s bullshit!”

“This is just another prank, right?!”

Having forty-two people publicly shouting expletives, wasn’t the best start to this image reset that President Kwon wanted, but there was no way either of the chapters would have been okay with the other house coming into their own, so this little outdoor set-up was the best option they had.

You and Jungkook sort of just stood there for a moment, letting the members get their gut-reactions out. Then he turned to you, motioning towards the mob of angry Greek lifers. “You were always better at yelling than me. You wanna quiet them down?” He smirked, a jab that had you clenching your teeth.

“Great way to start off this so called peace treaty, but sure, I’ll gladly calm them down and get straight to the point. I wouldn’t want to let them drown in their own heads without knowing what’s going on because someone won’t just be upfront.” You stared him straight in the eyes, making sure he got your double meaning since he wanted to play dirty and bring up the past. He simply clenched his jaw and averted his gaze back to the crowd of hysterics laid out before them.

“Quiet down and we’ll explain.” You yelled as loud as you could, hoping it would reach everyone so that the chatter would die down quickly. Luckily it seemed they were all on the verge of a mental breakdown and needed answers, so the volume was almost instantly brought down to a hush. All eyes were now on you. “To make things simple, President Kwon thinks that our little prank war or whatever the hell you want to call it, has brought too much negative attention to the school. Visiting students and their parents, donors, and apparently a lot of other people have noticed all of the antics that we pull on each other, and they don’t like it.” You paused, gauging the reactions, but everyone was just frozen in place, waiting for more details. “He put both of our houses on three months of probation and said that if we don’t clean up our acts and stop with all of this petty bullshit that he would suspend our chapters. So, really it’s that easy. We just have to let this feud die down...” You paused, not wanting to say what you were going to say next, but you thought that it would be the best way to diffuse the situation. “And I know that it was the venting of my personal feelings that started this entire thing, so I wanted to say… I’m sorry for causing it.” You didn’t look towards Jungkook, but you could feel his stare burning into the side of your face. You didn’t want to see his expression. Didn’t want to see the smugness or whatever the hell he was feeling towards this forced public apology. You were about to continue, but before you could, a high-pitched voice cut in.

“No, why are you apologizing?” Sana said, stepping past the front lines of the two groups. “It is not your fault.” She shot a glare towards Jungkook who simply rolled his eyes and kept his stare straight ahead.

Then it was Jennie pushing to the front to join in on your defense. “She’s right, Y/N. It’s not your fault. We’re the ones who planted the flowers as a joke. Even though it was a harmless joke,” She turned towards the Lambda boys, venom coating her words, “that made their trashy house look a little bit nicer. Yet, they had to escalate it into something else.”

Oh, this was not good.

Jimin broke through the front line for the Lambdas, a scowl etched across his face. “It’s not the issue of what you did. It’s the fact that back then you blindly fucked with the house that all of the guys lived in, not only Jungkook, just because of Y/N being upset over their relationship — which, he did nothing wrong since you wanna start glaring at people for no fucking reason Sana.”

It was this violent concoction of anger and sadness colliding inside of your stomach that had you simultaneously fighting back the urge to bite off Jimin’s head or crying pathetically in front of everyone.

Multiple people were stepping to the front of their groups now, various arguments splintering off as people began defending the heads of their respective houses. Y/N this, Jungkook that. You stared at the second story of the Tri Delt house, focusing in on the bedroom window all the way to the right (your bedroom), so that your hearing would blur out. You didn’t want to listen to these arguments any more, but you also didn’t have the energy to both somehow defend yourself while also admitting that Jungkook’s feelings from back then were also valid. So you stood there, eyes glazing over at the sight of the room where this entire feud spawned from. Though, maybe that wasn’t exactly correct. According to Jungkook it had started in no particular place and at no particular time that he could actually pinpoint. That was just the place where it had all finally been verbalized.

You weren’t sure how long you zoned out for, just reminiscing on the conversation from that night, but it was Jungkook’s voice thundering through the air that halted everyone’s arguments once again, along with your torturous thoughts.

“All of you just fucking stop!” He yelled. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it is or how it started. If we keep doing this we’re gonna get our chapters suspended. Do you guys want that?” There was an awkward moment of silence where everyone was just sort of looking around at one another before the members finally grumbled a unanimous ‘no.’ “Okay, so then you guys are just gonna have to get over this bullshit, just like how me and Y/N are,” Jungkook paused, one brow arched as he turned to face you. “Right?”

You felt your face heat up as you clamped your teeth down onto the inside of your cheek. “…Right.”

“Good.” Jungkook smiled, seeming very happy with himself for getting that out of you — smug asshole. He turned back to face all of the members, clapping his hands together before saying something that caused the entire group to erupt into hysterics. “Now, apologize to each other.”

“Fuck that!” Someone screeched from the back. “Baek let the air out of my tires last year. I was late for my final.”

“Because you put a pair of panties in my car and my girlfriend thought I was cheating on her!”

“You probably were!”

Everyone was screaming and calling out various incidents, saying there was no way in hell they were ever going to apologize.

“Fine! Fucking fine!” Jungkook cut in immediately before it could devolve again. “How about if me and Y/N just apologize to each other and it’ll count for the rest of you? And then this war is dead. Sound fair?”

No one said anything concrete in response, just unintelligible grumbles rippling through the crowd. Jungkook apparently took this as an okay, because he was suddenly turning toward you. “Alright, you go first.”

You scoffed. “I’m not apologizing first. It wasn’t even my idea. Besides I already apologized to everyone earlier.”

“It wasn’t an apology to me though.”

“I don’t think I owe you an apology.” You shrugged. “I apologized for my friends fucking with your house. What else do I need to apologize for?”

He just looked at you, with those eyes that were unreadable. Though you could see a slight shift, as though there truly was something that he wanted you to apologize for from back then, but he could tell that you weren’t going to back down, so he went for something that cut deep as punishment.

He huffed in annoyance. “Fine, if you wanna be like that. I’m sorry that I broke up with you, Y/N.”

Your entire body flared with anger that had a pool of sweat instantly swelling at your hairline. You stepped closer to him, only a foot of space between you, but he didn’t back down and you weren’t going to either. “And I’m sorry I wasted three years of my life with a lying, cheating piece of shit!”

His eyes went wide. The word that never failed to strike a nerve whenever this argument was brought back under the light. His response was quiet but firm, everyone, all forty-two members watching in silence. “I never cheated on you, but if you want to think that just so I can be the bad guy in your head, fine.”

His final word felt like a sharp cut across your chest, but you stood firm, not backing down. You didn’t break eye contact with him as you voiced your final sentiment to the two groups of warring Greeks. “I don’t care whose side you guys fall on when it comes to this overblown drama between me and Jungkook. The fighting, the pranks, all of it, it’s over.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook bit out before turning and walking towards the Lambda house, a silent command for his Brothers to do the same.

You didn’t stand there for a single second longer and began walking toward your own house, your fellow Sisters following. Your best friends, Sana and Jennie, instantly threw their arms around your shoulders. “Vodka?” The universal distraction from all things awful in life.

You shook your head. “Tequila.” The universal eraser to all things awful in life. “Lots of tequila.”

——-

“He’s lucky that we’re in a truce now or I would’ve thought up something diabolical for his arrogant ass,” Jennie said as she dusted some blush on her cheeks.

“I know right, ugh!” Sana made a disgusted sound as she handed you the necklace she was letting you borrow for the night. “Telling you to apologize first. Like fuck you. You haven’t even done anything.”

You simply sighed, jumping to get your jeans past your thighs. “It’s fine guys. As long as no more issues pop up we can just ignore them and act like none of this ever happened.”

“I know, I know, but it just pisses me off that they always bring your name into the argument. Like you didn’t tell us to go and mess with them. We did it ourselves, and sure, looking back on it now we shouldn’t have done it — even though they were some nice fucking flowers — but regardless, they pushed it to another level.” Sana let out a final huff as she hopefully released the last of her ranting for the night.

“The point of the tequila,” You said as you filled three shot glasses, several wedges of lime waiting beside them, “Is to forget the problems. Not continue thinking about them.”

Sana snapped her fingers and pointed at you with a smile as she picked up her shot. “You know what, you’re right. Fuck the Lambdas. They no longer exist. In my head we live next to a vacant patch of grass.”

“Exactly.” Jennie picked up her glass, leaving the final one for you. “Cheers to no longer having to deal with the house that must not be named.”

The three of you let out a little cheer before clinking your glasses together and forcing your bodies through the post-shot shivers that followed.

After the front yard meeting fiasco you knew immediately you would be going out. However, it had still been quite early, so you, Sana, and Jennie decided to indulge in several glasses of wine to bide the time before it was late enough to feel like an appropriate time to be downing shots. Tequila at six in the afternoon, even on a Friday, just didn’t feel right, so alcohol juice it had been. Though, the warm feeling that was already radiating through your legs as you walked over to the mirror to do one last once over of your outfit indicated that the so called alcohol juice had done its job as the pre-game to the actual hard liquor pre-game a little too well.

“Okay, I’m only opting for one more round while we’re here or else we will be having a repeat of St. Patrick’s Day.” Too many green beers that day. Too many.

“Senior year wisdom.” Jennie placed her hand over her heart. “Our freshman year brains would never.”

“Our freshman year brains didn’t have an aversion to six different types of alcohol yet.” You laughed as you motioned to take the next round of shots. “And I would like to still be able to look at a bottle of tequila without going into a full-body sweat after tonight, so we’re pacing ourselves.”

“Oh, Fireball. The days when I could still drink you were so simple.” Sana grabbed her face and grimaced as if Fireball was a long lost god, while you audibly gagged from the name of the cinnamon flavored whiskey alone.

“Sana, stop. You know Y/N can’t even look at a churro anymore without looking like she’s gonna yak everywhere like a dog.”

I faked a sniffle. “God, I miss being able to eat churros.” Cinnamon was now inedible to you thanks to your now forever connection between the delectable spice and the previously mentioned unspeakable liquor. A break up that rivaled that of yours and Jungkook’s.

“Uber’s gonna be here in three minutes,” Jennie said as she returned to your bedside table to grab her shot glass once again.

The three of you raised your glasses together with a clink. “Let’s fuck it up.”

——----

The bar right next to your college, simply referred to as “Pub,” was a weird place to be on the first Friday of the new semester. It was a mix of underage freshman trying to slyly sip at their alcohol while attempting to hide the X’s marked on their hands, and of age students that felt a little too old to be at Pub, but who could argue with free drinks for girls until midnight? Definitely not you, Sana, or Jennie.

The three of you found your temporary home at the tables on the deck right outside of the entrance, the fresh air much preferable to the stuffy atmosphere of the dance floor that you would soon find yourself on given the right song choice to send you flying through the door.

You watched as Sana shimmied through the crowd of people to return to your table, three tiny plastic cups in hand. “You get a vodka Sprite, you get a vodka Sprite, and I get a vodka Sprite!” She yelled as she set the cups down on the table.

You laughed. “People may call that basic, but we still get drunk and don’t have to drink Jack and fucking Coke.”

“The Devil’s combo.” Jennie sipped her drink. “You see a guy drinking that: run. He thinks he’s so fucking cool.”

Sana raised her plastic cup. “Cheers to the truth.”

“Cheers,” You all agreed collectively.

“But speaking of guys who don’t drink Jack and Coke, I ran into Namjoon when I went to the bathroom a minute ago.” A blush crept across Jennie’s cheeks.

“Are you finally gonna see if he’s interested? He’s not your TA anymore, so it’s not sketchy.”

Jennie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s weird. He seems so uninterested that it’s intimidating. Like I’ve imagined thirty-seven different scenarios for our first date and he’s only like ‘Hi, Jennie. Bye, Jennie.”

You and Sana couldn’t help but laugh, however, the amusement was cut short by a decently sized group of familiar males.

“Fuck me,” You said under your breath, which was enough for Jennie to turn around and see the pack of Lambda boys climbing the wooden steps onto the deck of the bar, Jungkook leading the way.

“You try to forget your problems and they just walk in on two legs.” Sana groaned. “It’s rude really.”

The group got caught in the line to get into the bar, which unfortunately left them idling uncomfortably close to your table, and of course something had to be said.

Jimin glanced down at them sitting, a fake grin plastered to his mouth. “If it isn’t our cordial neighbors.”

Jennie snapped her head up to look at him, mirroring his forced smile. “Cordial can also mean that we’re pretending you don’t exist. In fact, we no longer acknowledge that we even have neighbors.”

“That’s fantastic, actually. It means I can forget that awful blowjob you gave me freshman year even happened.”

Jennie’s jaw clenched for all of a millisecond before responding. “Awful? Say that to my untouched vagina after you came in sixty seconds. Though again, we’re pretending you don’t exist, so I guess I can forget the most underwhelming sexual experience of my life. Thanks, Jimin.” She turned back to you and Sana, not sparing a second glance as if she’d simply given someone directions to the nearest Denny’s.

But Jimin wasn’t through. “That’s not what happened—”

You could see in your friend’s face she was already squaring up another jab, and as much as you found it entertaining you knew it was setting a bad example.

“Jennie,” You said at the same time that Jungkook sighed “Jimin.”

You both looked at each other, a silent message of gratefulness passing between the two of you at trying to actually make this work.

“Guys, neither of us want to get our chapters suspended. If ignoring each other is the best route, do that, or maybe even be friends. Whatever results in no fuckery between our houses, okay?” You reminded them of what was at stake here and everyone nodded, letting any planned animosity fall away as the line to get into the bar began to move.

You tilted your head, watching as Jungkook’s back disappeared into the building, his eyes crinkling as he smiled brightly at some girl who noticed him the second he made it past the threshold.

Again, that stupid feeling of longing for something that was clearly dead and gone. But you didn’t want to get too down, so before you could spiral too far you turned back towards your friends. “So did he really last sixty seconds?”

“No,” Jennie smiled, “But I definitely still have the texts of him telling me the next day it was the best suck of his life. He’s the one that lied first, so I get to bend the truth too.”

“Freshman year is so weird to think about. Everyone was actually friendly. Jennie and Jimin might be dating right now if it wasn’t for our little war.” Sana laughed as she batted the napkin away that Jennie tossed at her.

“Absolutely not. I want someone like Namjoon, who’s smart and respectful. Not Jimin, who… who…” She trailed off simply finishing her thought with a wordless grimace.

Jennie said that, but you knew it wasn’t exactly true. You remembered very well when Jennie and Jimin were involved and she actually seemed to enjoy the Lambda’s presence quite a bit. But then things went to shit the summer after your freshman year was over, and well, this was the reality now. Snide comments at every passing instead of mutual invites to beach days.

You were beginning to let a little slideshow of memories from that first year cloud your head when a song that already had you lifting out of your chair clamored inside the bar. “We dance till dawn!” You pulled your friends by their arms through the entrance, waving your wristbands at the bouncer before pushing your way to the middle of the dance floor.

“Drinks!” Jennie beamed, remembering that they had finished the others outside. “I’ll be back!” She yelled over the music, pointing towards the bar.

You and Sana gave her a thumbs up as you began to dance together, singing the lyrics so loud your throats would certainly punish you by night’s end. But you didn’t care. Today had been absolutely disastrous, ripping up old wounds that you wished would just stay permanently beneath their flimsy bandaid, so you were thankful for this music that was blaring so loud that thoughts weren’t even an option, the alcohol that was so potent you could barely remember Jungkook’s smug face from the house meeting today, and your friends that allowed you to be this happy on days this bad.

A few songs passed and you and Sana were still dancing and getting so hyped up by every new spin that it took you a second to remember that Jennie definitely should’ve been back by now. You looked around, only to find a sight that made you let out a slight scream that was completely concealed by the music. You tapped Sana and began pointing towards the bar. She turned and immediately mirrored your excitement.

Namjoon was leaning into Jennie at the bar, whispering something into her ear and you could see her smiling, redness once again blooming on her face. In your drunkenness you pulled out your phone and snapped severa blurry pictures, which were sure to be a great topic of discussion in the group chat tomorrow. You watched Jennie nod her head, smiling and pointing to the three drinks in her hand, and then she started back towards where you were.

“Bitch, the drinks could’ve waited!” You tried to say over the music. “Go back and talk to him.”

Jennie actually looked giddy as she handed over the drinks to you and Sana. “I am. He’s leaving soon though, but he asked if I wanted to grab something to eat with him at the diner down the street.”

Sana jumped up and down in excitement. “So he basically asked you to marry him? Got it.”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally gonna propose to me over my omelette.” She joked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Are you guys okay if I go?”

“Of course, but I will be checking your location in fifteen minutes and if you are not at that diner I will hunt Namjoon’s ass down in two seconds,” You warned. “—Except if you decide you wanna skip the diner and go straight to fucking that’s cool too, just let us know.”

Jennie threw out another giddy expression at the thought. “I’ll text you guys. Love you!” She said, kissing her hand and throwing it out to you as she weaved back towards where Namjoon was waiting for her at the bar.

“Fuck Disney,” You shouted to Sana. “Dreams come true at Pub too.”

She bent over, laughing as she tried to sip her drink. “Ugh, if only we could be that lucky. I’ve never had a TA even close to that hot.”

“Same, but maybe we’ll find something else tonight.” You motioned toward the back where you could see some of the soccer players hanging out. You eyed Jung Hoseok. The two of you had hooked up a few times last year, and getting laid would be a perfect ending to this bad to actually decent day.

“Oh, I see.” Sana wiggled her brows, giving a knowing look. “Let’s go bump into them.” She grabbed your hand and began leading you through the crowd until you reached the area that the soccer players were idly standing around and sipping their drinks. You started a conversation about something random right behind Hoseok, and it was only a minute or so before he turned around and noticed the two of you.

“Oh, look who it is.” He smiled, hugging you. “Been a while.”

“I know your summer must’ve been so dull without me,” You flirted, sipping at your drink.

“No question.” He leaned back against the wall, pulling you by the waist so you weren’t halfway on the dance floor and constantly being bumped into. Sana noticed the gesture and took that as her cue to let things simmer between you and Hoseok.

“Y/N, I see Nayeon and Joy over there.” She pointed towards the other corner of the bar, where you saw the two Tri Delts mingling. “I’m gonna go over there, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

She leaned into your ear, whispering, “If you wanna go home with him just text me. I’ll catch a ride with them on the way back to the house.”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure I will, but I’ll text you to make sure,” You whispered back.

She squeezed your shoulder before pulling back. “Take care of her Jung. I’ve heard you’re very good at that.” Sana smiled like a tiny devil before running through the crowd, leaving you slightly slack-jawed.

You bit your lip, a small warmth creeping into our face. “Please, ignore that,” You bit through an awkward laugh.

“Why’re you embarrassed?” He smiled, shrugging before leaning next to your ear. “I mean I have taken care of you every single time we’ve been together, right?”

His breath was hot against the side of your face, leaving you tingling. You lifted your hand, cupping his jaw as you pulled him back to look him in the face. “You can’t say things like that to me when we’re in a bar and you can’t do anything about it.”

He smiled, eyes drifting to your mouth. “I mean we could always leave. It’s almost closing time anyways.”

You smiled. “One more drink, after I finish this one.”

“Perfect.” He leaned in, gave you a small peck on the lips before ruffling your hair a little and turning to say something to his friend. Presumably it was something about him getting laid tonight, which was exactly the same conversation you were about to have with your friend.

You: the hookup is secure

Sana: quick work. i’m proud

Sana: joy and nayeon said that lisa is sick in the bathroom and they’re about to take her back to the house, so i was just going to catch a ride with them if you’re going with hoseok. sound good?

You: oh really? i hope she’s okay. make sure she gets water at home. and yes i’ll be fine. we were gonna have one last drink and then go. i’ll text you when i make it to his place

Sana: sounds good. love you!

You slipped your phone back into your pocket after returning the sentiment.

“Everything good?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, one of our friends is sick so Sana was just letting me know she was gonna go home with her.”

“Damn,” Hoseok tsked, jokingly. “Does that mean I’m stuck with you for the night?”

“It would seem so.” You smiled, and then he pulled you beneath his arm and adjusted the backwards cap on his head.

“You know, I’m all for just fucking or whatever, but you’re really never gonna say yes to a date, are you?”

You paused before answering, remembering that time last year that he’d asked about actually taking you out to dinner. You had thought about it, but in the end you just decided you had no desire to even slightly pivot in the direction of being any more than friends with benefits with someone. Though, if anyone were able to sway you away from that mindset after Jungkook, it would be Hoseok, but just not yet.

“If I let you take me to Steak n’ Shake after this, will that suffice?” You giggled at the way he rolled his eyes while still smiling.

“I have leftovers in my fridge better than the food from there, so I’ll let you have that.” He paused, a slight glimmer filling his eyes. “Maybe I’ll light a candle, make it romantic, sort of like a date.”

Your skin prickled slightly at the mention of the candle, a call back to one of their more… unconventional hook ups from last year.

“Is candle wax being melted onto my naked body and drunkenness really a good mix?” You asked, even though it had been one of the best feelings you had ever experienced.

“Not that drunk, but it could always wait until the morning.”

You tapped your finger to your lips as if you were pondering it. “Let me get my last drink and I’ll let you know my answer.”

“I have a tab open.” He motioned towards the bar. “Just get it on mine.”

“Thanks,” You said, even though you planned to pay for it yourself. Random guys you didn’t mind hustling a few free drinks from, but not guys you were actually sort of friends with.

You walked up to the bartender. “Vodka Sprite,” You said over the thumping music. He nodded and then stepped to the left and made your drink. He handed it to you as you slipped him your credit card, motioning to close the tab out.

You were already halfway done with sipping on the drink when the bartender returned a slight look of awkwardness on his face. “Uh, it declined.”

Your brows furrowed. Your financial aid refund for school had definitely been deposited into your bank account. You knew this because you had jumped for joy when it hit and you were finally able to return to the sanctuary that is no-ads Hulu. There was enough to cover your dues for staying in the Tri Delt house this semester, so there should certainly have been enough to cover a four dollar drink. You were pondering what to do, maybe just put it on Hoseok’s tab like he said you could. It was probably just your actual bank having issues and it would sort itself out in the morning anyways. You were just about to say to put it on his tab when someone slid their muscled bicep right in front of your face with a credit card in hand.

You knew that it was pathetic that you knew exactly who that bicep belonged to before he even turned to look at your face, black strands of hair hanging over his forehead.

“I got it,” Jungkook said to the bartender.

“Why’d you do that?” You asked.

“Because I was right behind you and heard him, and I know how embarrassed you get about things like that.” He shrugged, grabbing the paper and pen that the bartender slid back towards him.

He was right. You had terrible secondhand embarrassment, let alone actual first hand embarrassment. “Well… thanks. I don’t know why it did that. I got my refund already.”

“Just check your bank account. If the money’s in there then the bank system is probably just fucked up right now.”

“Yeah…” You slid your phone out of your pocket and immediately went to your banking app and pressed your fingerprint down onto the login. You waited a few seconds, and when your balance appeared on the screen, you felt your heart drop. “What in the actual fuck?” You said, staring at your bank account with a whopping dollar and twenty cent in it.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, brows furrowed as he rounded to your side to look at your screen to see the low number that was not at all what it was yesterday. “I thought you said you got your refund?”

You were shaking your head. “I… I did. I don’t know what the hell happened. Oh my god, I’m gonna freak the fuck out. I have to pay my housing cost for Tri-Delt with that money. Like what the fuck is going on—”

You felt Jungkook’s on your back, rubbing light circles. “Just breathe.” You stiffened at the touch, but didn’t try to pull away. “It’s probably just a financial aid fuck up. Call them tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

You knew that he was probably right, but a creeping feeling was telling you otherwise. This was your fourth year in college dealing with the same exact scholarships every single semester and this had never happened before.

“Fuck.” You brought your hands up to push at either of your temples. “That really just fucked up my whole mood. I’m not even horny anymore—” You cringed, realizing what you just said. “Please, just ignore me I’m drunk.” You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, not wanting to see the expression he’d made at your admission.

“What’re you doing now? Where’s Sana and Jennie?” He asked, ignoring your flub and finally lowering his hand from your back.

“They’re not here. Jennie left earlier and I told Sana I was gonna go home with… Hoseok, but now I just wanna go lay in bed by myself so I can spiral into every negative possibility of why my bank account looks like that.”

“It’s gonna be fine.” This time he placed his hand on the back of your neck, cupping it slightly. It was a motion that had always for some reason calmed you down when things got overwhelming. It seemed he remembered. But even though you appreciated the comfort, the feeling of his hand there made something in your stomach flutter — that stupid feeling of longing seriously needed it’s wings shredded. You gripped his forearm, pulling it away from you, and you saw something shift in his eyes as you did so.

“I guess I’m gonna go tell Hoseok that I’m just gonna go home—” But then you suddenly remembered something. “Fuck! I can’t Uber because I don’t have any money on my card.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “This day was so bad and then actually pretty good, only to turn out fucking awful.”

There was a couple of seconds of silence between the two of you, but you kept your eyes closed, trying to clear the fog in your head from all the alcohol to figure out what you were going to do. However, Jungkook finally let out a sigh before speaking. “Come on.”

“What?” You asked.

“All of these people are trying to get out of here at once and they’re ordering Uber’s at the same time.” He flashed his phone screen, showing that it was not only almost closing time, but that the next driver wouldn’t be available for thirty-two minutes with everyone having already ordered their rides. “It’s a twenty minute walk back to your house. I’ll just walk you there.”

Even though Jungkook was currently the president of the Lambdas, he actually decided not to live in the frat house this year and instead opted for a cheaper apartment that was still near campus. You and Jungkook both relied on scholarships to pay for most of your schooling, and fraternity and sorority dues on their own were not cheap, and living on Greek Drive only made that burden a million times worse.

But the point was that Jungkook had no need to go to campus because he lived in a completely different direction now.

“You don’t even live there anymore. How’re you gonna get home?” You asked.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch and get Tae or Jimin to drive me to my place in the morning.” He shrugged.

You weren’t exactly keen on the idea of having to walk all the way back to campus with Jungkook, considering just a five minute car ride earlier in the day had been sufficiently awkward all on its own. But you also were unfortunately no longer in the mood for sex, leaving Hoseok’s house out of the picture, and your bank account was for some reason drained, which resulted in you only having one option really.

“Alright,” You finally said. “Just let me tell Hoseok and then we can go.”

He nodded as you walked back towards the group of soccer players, tapping Hoseok on the shoulder. It seemed your dismay was painted plainly on your face because he immediately asked what was wrong.

“I actually can’t hang out tonight. I just found out my bank account is fucked up and I can’t really think about anything else right now, so I was just gonna head home, but I wanted to let you know. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fine,” He said, shaking his head. “Do you have a way home then?”

You glanced towards Jungkook, releasing a heavy sigh. “Uhm, yeah, Jungkook was gonna walk me.”

Hoseok’s eyes darted toward where you pointing, narrowing slightly. Most people knew about the feud between the Lambdas and the Tri Delts, which meant most people also knew the details about why there was a feud in the first place.

“Are you sure you’re good with that?” Hoseok asked.

Not really, but a twenty minute walk wasn’t going to kill you. “We’re fine, promise. Actually we’ve been… cordial lately.” You tried to say it like it was actually the truth, but you thought maybe if you spoke it into existence then it would actually come to fruition.

Hoseok tilted his head, giving you a look that said he didn’t really believe you, but regardless he pulled you in for a hug. “Okay, let me know when you get home.”

“I will,” You assured him before waving goodbye and making your way back towards Jungkook.

“Ready,” He huffed, a slight annoyance seeming to coat his words as he pushed himself off of the wall and started towards the entrance.

“Are you really gonna have an attitude?” You asked as you did a little jog to catch up with him. “I would’ve found another way if I knew you were gonna act like an ass.”

“I’m not trying to be a dick. I’m just tired.” He placed his hand on one of your shoulders, moving you in front of him so the two of you could move through the mass of people more quickly until you were walking through the entrance and down the wooden ramp that connected to the outside deck.

“Then why’d you offer? I could’ve called someone to pick me up.”

“Because,” He paused, motioning towards the crosswalk that already had dozens of drunk college kids filing through it. “I couldn’t just leave you there, and I thought just taking you home would be quicker than you calling people to try and find a ride.”

Ouch. He was just trying to be nice and you were calling him an ass. Heat flushed beneath your skin from embarrassment. “I’m sorry…” You finally said as you made it to the sidewalk and began the straight shot down the main road towards Greek Drive. “Thank you for making sure I got home alright.” You added, avoiding any eye contact and opting to walk a little bit in front of him.

After about five entire minutes of silence you thought to yourself, yeah, this was going pretty much as expected. But you were thankful that at least there wasn’t any hostility. You didn’t want any more arguments like the ones from today. You had seethed at each other after the two of you left President Kwon’s office. Had thrown insults at one another at the meeting between your houses. Like sure, maybe the silence hurt more than it should’ve. The idea that the guy you started dating and fell in love with when you were a junior in high school not even being able to fake a conversation with you for twenty minutes was mildly heartbreaking to say the least. But again, the silence was better than the anger that had fueled most of your interactions since breaking up the summer after starting college.

You had become somewhat content with the lack of speaking. You were still a few steps ahead of Jungkook as he walked behind you, but he suddenly picked up speed and joined you, shoulder skating against yours before he was curving his hand around your waist and nudging you to go to the side of the sidewalk that wasn’t closest to the main road that was currently buzzing with post-bar traffic.

“Wouldn’t want you falling face first into a Camero that someone’s Daddy bought them, Drunkie,” He said, offering a playful smile as he dropped his arm back down to his side.

You were caught so off guard by the positive expression from Jungkook that it took you a second for your head to actually realize what he had even said. You pushed his shoulder. “I’m not even drunk anymore.”

“Well, considering I can literally smell the tequila on you, I’d rather not take any chances of you falling into oncoming traffic.”

“You’re being nice.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Too nice.”

“What?” He chuckled. “I’m just making an effort to try and fix things between us so that the members don’t see us constantly fighting and think it’s okay to do the same.”

Ah, that’s what it was. He didn’t care if you guys actually patched this up, just that it looked like you did.

“Well, we could always pretend to like each other, since the appearance is all that actually matters apparently.” You forced a smile and began walking a little bit faster. Ten more minutes. Ten more minutes of being alone with him and his stupid presence that overwhelmed you with thoughts that you wished would just disappear.

“That’s not what I meant,” He said almost immediately, not letting that unbearable plunge into silence return. “I would love it if we could be nice to each other and actually mean it… I just…” He trailed off, seeming to hesitate in whatever he was trying to say.

“Just spit it out.”

There was one more second of a brief pause before he spoke quietly. “I just don’t think that’s ever going to happen, because I know you still blame me for everything.”

You tensed up, still keeping your pace of being slightly ahead of him. You inhaled a deep breath through your mouth before turning to look over your shoulder at him, his eyes already waiting to meet yours.

“I don’t blame you.” You smiled, but with a sad furrowing of your brows. “I… resent you.”

Jungkook’s mouth fell open, his eyes widening in surprise. “I mean, that’s… that’s even worse than blaming me.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not.”

His expression turned more puzzled. “How is you resenting me better than you blaming me?”

“Because, blame implies that I think it’s your fault… Resentment just means I’m angry and upset, regardless of whether I think you were right or wrong for what happened.” You felt the bridge of your nose begin to tingle with that telltale sign of tears, so you quickly looked forward and urged them to stay hidden until you were at least in the comfort of your own room. “I’m just resentful of the things I now think and feel about myself, but that isn’t your fault. It’s my issue to deal with.” You shrugged.

“What things do you think and feel about yourself?” He asked, and you could tell that he had hurried his pace and was a little closer behind you now.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want to talk about this. The two of you hadn’t had an in depth conversation like this since you’d first broken up. But things were different now compared to that first conversation. Back then it was raw and fresh, the pain too intense to notice what was growing underneath. Now it was a scar, and you were left with all of the emotions, feelings, and implications of how and why things ended.

“I… I don’t really wanna talk about it honestly.” You said that, but you also wanted Jungkook to understand that you were perfectly aware of how you had acted the past few years. You may have said and acted in ways that seemed bitchy and ridiculous, but it was because of these disgusting emotions that were now plaguing your mind constantly, and maybe it was time he knew. “I kind of wish we had broken up over this giant fight that was about something unfixable. Something where we both clearly did things wrong and we were both through with each other because there was no way either of us were going to change our minds. I think I could’ve dealt with that so much better than what you actually broke up with me for. Which was just the fact that you thought I was...” You trailed off, the word that bombarded your thoughts mercilessly landing on your tongue. “Boring.”

You heard the way his shoes scratched against the concrete at his screeching halt, and he clearly thought that that was going to stop you as well, but you kept going, not actually wanting to hear any response from him. You said your piece and now maybe he would understand. But of course you knew that he wasn’t just going to let it end like that, which was made apparent when you felt him suddenly gripping your arm, trying to get you to slow down for a second.

“I never said or even thought that about you, Y/N, ever.” He tried to pull you to look at him, but you twisted your body and threw a hand over your face to cover your eyes that were already glistening.

“No, stop,” You said firmly, and he ceased with trying to get you to look at him. “I told myself after that night in my room I was never going to let you see me cry over you ever again, and if I look at you right now, I will. I just know I will, so please just stop.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute, leaving just the sound of grasshoppers and the random gust of cars passing by. You thought maybe he would just let it go and you could continue the last few minutes of the walk without speaking, but you had verbalized your thoughts and Jungkook was without a doubt going to respond.

“I know how it’s easy to think that,” He started, his voice a whisper with his hand still wrapped around your arm, as if he was afraid you would bolt down the street without letting him finish if he let you go. “But that’s not why I ended things. You were the first girl I ever actually dated, and when we got here I just started thinking about—”

“—All of your new exciting options.” You cut in, anger flaring before you could stop it.

“Y/N…” He trailed off, squeezing your arm. “That’s not what it was—”

“—No,” You said before he could try and dance his way through some explanation of how he just wanted to go crazy in college without actually saying it out loud. “You don’t have to explain it again. I’d rather you didn’t actually. I remember in excruciating detail the way you explained it that night. I understand, I get it… So, p-please,” Your voice cracked, finally being too overwhelmed by this entire situation. “Let’s just keep walking and not talk about it anymore. Please.”

It turned so quiet I could even hear how hard Jungkook was breathing. It sounded heavy but unnatural, like he was trying to forcibly steady his heartbeat. And after a few seconds you felt him finally drop his hand from your arm and you didn’t wait for him to say a single word before you started down the sidewalk again.

The Tri Delt house was five minutes away, leading to five minutes of complete and utter silence between two people that was so palpable it blocked out the scratching of your shoes as you walked and the rustle of tiny animals running through the trees next to you. It engulfed you in this tunnel of noiselessness.

Eventually you saw the bend at the end of the street where yours and Jungkook’s houses sat next to one another. It was only a little bit away, yet it felt so far. Twenty minutes. All it had taken was twenty minutes of the two of you not partaking in your back and forth hostility from the last few years for you to break down again. It felt pathetic. It was completely pathetic.

You were finally approaching the point where the Tri Delt and Lambda house split into opposite directions. All you had to do was keep walking straight while Jungkook veered to the left and—

You felt the light tug at the belt loop of your jeans, stopping you in place, just like from earlier today after the suspension meeting. You were about to tell him to let you go, when he beat you to the punch.

“You’re not boring, Y/N. You never have been.” He was so close you could feel his breath hitting the back of your head. “It was one of the millions of reasons that I loved you. I just wanted you to know that.”

And then he was gone. The pressure of someone tugging you in place disappearing, leaving you to catch your balance as you finally stood alone. You forced yourself to stare straight ahead as you walked towards your front door, not daring to look at him as he walked to the Lambda house. You shoved your keys inside the lock, forcing it open and then taking the stairs by two’s until you were collapsing in your bed, fingers crushing your pillow as you finally let yourself cry.

——--

A phone was ringing inside of your dreams. It was ringing and ringing and ringing until you realized the sound was coming from some otherworldly place — oh yeah, that would be the current hell that is your life.

You blinked a couple of times, blindly reaching for the source of the noise that was lost somewhere in your bed. You finally felt your hand slide across the leather of your phone case. You brought it up to read the name and you felt your stomach curl.

‘Jungkook the Jackass’ was calling. And if it weren’t for the fact that he was calling you at seven in the morning you probably would’ve just sent him straight to voice mail in order to avoid any further conversations about what transpired last night. But alas, it was seven in the morning and just seemed to be too early of a time for him to be calling about something mundane.

You regretfully lifted the phone to your ear. “Yes?” You grumbled, voice scratchy.

“We have a problem.” No mention of last night. It was just a clear cut declaration that did not sound good.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, sitting up from bed.

“Come outside your house. Now.”

Your eyes widened and you instantly jumped from bed. He sounded urgent enough that you decided your flimsy nighttime apparel was going to have to do. You hurried down the stairs and opened the front door, revealing Jungkook in the front yard staring at something.

“What is it?” You asked, arms crossing over your chest as you tried to hide your bralessness.

Jungkook pressed his lips together as he pointed towards the front of the Tri Delt house. “My idiot Lambda Brothers.”

You followed the direction of his finger, your mouth dropping at the sight before you.

Dozens and dozens and dozens of boxers covering every inch of the first story of the house. You turned towards Jungkook, so angry and anxiety-riddled that someone from administration had already seen this, that you could hardly speak.

“I’m going to murder them,” You finally managed to spit through clenched teeth.

“No,” He started, turning to you, mirroring your own frustration. “I’m going to murder them.”

→ part 02

#bts #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #kpop fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst

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flightfoot · 3 years

Text

Greeting the New Dawn

Set post-Reveal in @buggachat Bakery Enemies AU, whenever that ends up being.

Thanks to Queenie for betaing!

AO3 ---------

“If you want me to leave, I will.”

Adrien looked off to the side, as if he thought that he wasn’t even worthy of meeting her gaze. As if already looking elsewhere, trying to impose on her as little as possible. “I can put in my resignation and tell your parents I found a different opportunity elsewhere.”

Marinette’s mouth went dry, her stomach dropping into a cavern. He- he couldn’t- not again- he couldn’t leave her- she’d only just got him back!

She willed desperately to say something, to stop him.

Nothing happened.

Instead, she felt her mouth move, saying words she didn’t want to say. “I think that would be for the best.”

Adrien’s face fell further, his breath hitching slightly.

He didn’t say anything. Marinette suspected that if he tried, that hitch would devolve into full-on sobbing.

He turned around, heading for the door.

Marinette regained control of her limbs. She reached out to grab him, to stop him from disappearing-

Her vision turned black.

-----

Marinette happily hummed as she kneaded some dough, her father joining her song. She’d missed spending time with her parents while she was in New York.

*ding ding*

A customer?

Moments later, Sabine walked through the entryway to the kitchen. Marinette relaxed.

Until she got a closer look and noticed her eyes glistening.

“Maman?”

“A-Adrien- he- he-!”

She burst into tears.

Marinette saw it then. Adrien desperately scrounging out of garbage bins to survive, getting thinner and thinner, having been unable to find another job. Losing his apartment, being forced out onto the streets.

Until finally someone had caught him going through their dumpster, recognized him, and decided that trash like him was unworthy of even having those rancid scraps.

Adrien leaning against the dumpster, beaten and bloody as the rain came pouring down. Slowly closing his eyes.

He didn’t open them again.

-----

Marinette looked out the window at the rain. She’d given him her umbrella, he’d be fine. He said so himself. She didn’t need to do anything more, right? He could walk straight, he hadn’t even been slurring his words, he was coherent. Everything would be fine.

------

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! Today, Adrien Agreste, son of the infamous supervillain, Hawkmoth, was found bludgeoned to death in an alley. The weapon of choice? An umbrella given to him by my favorite babysitter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Let’s give her a round of applause for helping set up the circumstances that allowed Paris to get rid of that loose end, once and for all.”

-----

Faceless masses quietly muttered all around Adrien.

A person would occasionally glance at him. Their face would twist up, fear and anger warring over their features.

Until they’d just walk away.

Leaving him alone, crying, desperately trying to reach someone, anyone.

They all slipped through his fingers like water, leaving nothing behind.

A flash of yellow. A defined figure. The last friend Adrien had.

“CHLOE!”

She turned around, gave him a glance.

Her hair swished as she turned back.

She didn’t look back a second time.

------

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news! Today Adrien Agreste was found dead in his apartment. Police are currently treating the case as a suicide-”

Marinette turned off the TV, getting back to designing her new outfit. It was sad what happened, but right now she wanted to concentrate on something more hopeful.

She smiled as she looked at the red dress she’d just finished, its black accents making the bright red pop that much more.

Her Kitty was out there. She just needed to find him.

------

Marinette jolted awake, panting heavily. She threw off the covers, shakily getting to her feet. Stumbling forward, she reached out for the light switch.

It took her several tries to hit it. Her arm was shaking so badly she just kept on missing.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she rocketed down. She really missed being Ladybug right about now; she could’ve just swung down to the first story.

A seeming eternity later (36 seconds later, to be exact), she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

The light was on, the sound of dough being rolled out punctuating the quiet of the early morning.

Please let him be there please let him be there please please PLEASE-!

A blond-haired man turned around. “Mari-?”

She hit him like a freight train.

Instinctively Adrien wrapped his arms around her as they rolled to the side, dough spraying everywhere.

She couldn’t bring herself to care.

“MARINETTE!” Adrien shouted, anxiety tinging his voice. “What’s wrong? Is someone hurt? Did anything get on you? I’m so, so sor-”

She just pulled him even tighter against her, muffling his voice with her shoulder.

*thump thump thump*

Adrien was alive. He was here. He wasn’t in an alley or a grave or… or ALONE.

Not anymore.

“Ni-nightmare,” she choked out, trying not to cry.

The blood drained from Adrien’s face. “It was him, wasn’t it?” He asked quietly, his voice quavering slightly. “I- I should’ve known, I wish I’d-”

“NO!”

She was NOT letting him take the blame for this.

“It wasn’t your fault kitty, NONE of it was your fault. It was his, ONLY his, you did everything you could to stop him.”

Adrien frowned. For a minute she thought he was going to argue, but he seemed to think better of it.

“And- and it wasn’t him anyway. Not really. It- it was you.”

“I- I’d never try to hurt anyone here, I’d never try to hurt you, regardless of what happened with Mother I-”

Marinette winced. Foot, meet mouth. Again.

“It wasn’t the Peacock nightmare. It- it was-”

She took a deep breath, pressing her head into his neck, feeling his pulse. “There were so many times when things could have gone worse than they did. Where you could’ve gotten hurt or killed. And- and I would never even have known I lost you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, My Lady,” he murmured into her ear. “Not unless you want me to.”

“If you want me to leave, I will.”

“NO!” She shook her head violently. “Never. I- I couldn’t stand it if-”

If I never saw you again. If you killed yourself because you thought no one wanted you around. Because you thought you deserved it. Or that you deserved to be out on the streets, struggling to survive, because of who your father is and how people see you because of it.

“I want you here,” she told him more calmly. She needed him to know that. To internalize it. “You deserve to be here. You deserve happiness and safety and people who love you and- and just every good thing in the world!”

She’d tell him this every day if she needed to, until he believed it.

“I- I dreamed that you’d died those times. Like- like when you asked if I wanted you to leave. Or- or thinking back on what could’ve happened if you’d walked home while drunk. But the worst one? Was where you committed suicide before I ever ran into you as a civilian.”

She needed to bake Chloe some cookies. ALL the cookies. She’d probably comment about how she was only tolerating Marinette’s cooking in order to seem nicer to Adrien or something, but she didn’t care. If it weren’t for Chloe, then Marinette’s best friend, the love of her life, would probably be dead.

“In that nightmare, it barely even registered that you’d died. Just- you were just some stranger. Some stranger who was dead now. That- that was most horrifying of all.”

Her hearing about him dying and barely even caring because she didn’t know him - it terrified her more than anything else. Logically she’d known that was a possibility before she’d found out Adrien was Chat Noir, but- well she’d never really seriously thought about him dying. And- and part of her thought that because of how close they were, she’d just know if he was hurt, if something had happened to him. Would recognize him on sight if the worst happened.

But neither of them had known the other when they ran into each other at the bakery. And she’d never had a clue that the boy on the billboards was the same boy running alongside her on rooftops.

Adrien held her tighter. Something wet dripped onto her neck.

She didn’t comment. His shoulder was damp from her own tears.

“It didn’t happen.” He told her. “It could have, but it didn’t. I- I know what it’s like to have those ‘what ifs?’ running through your head. Sometimes, the best you can do is tell yourself that everything did work out. That it’s okay. I- I tell myself that all the time. Every time I think about what could’ve happened if I never met your parents- if I’d never started working here. If I’d never seen you again. Never met Nino or Alya.”

“Adrien…”

“It doesn’t help. There’s nothing that can be done about ‘what ifs’. It may not make those thoughts go away, but- but at least it doesn’t matter what could’ve happened, because it didn’t. And thinking about it in circles won’t help.”

He grinned at her. “You know what will?”

She blinked at him, lost for words.

Until she felt something sticky on her forehead.

Reaching her hand up, she got the substance off.

Dough coated her fingers.

Her partner gave her a shit-eating grin. “Ooops.”

“Oh you are ON.”

As she chased her kitty around the kitchen, trying to tag him with bits of the fallen dough, she smiled.

He was alive.

Maybe he wasn’t okay yet, but he would be.

And so would she.

#bakery enemies au #ml fanfic #Miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #lovesquare #love square #suicide tw

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hollyhomburg · 4 years

Text

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Pt. 6) (Yoonminjoon x Reader)

Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Pregnancy, Mafia au

Parings: Snake hybrid! Yoongi x Dog hybrid! Jimin x Dog hybrid! Namjoon x Pregnant! Reader, Platonic Vmin, allusions to 2seok,

Summary: After years of abuse, you’ve all finally found each other. But for one of you- the fear still lingers, hidden in the shadows. Yoongi doesn't want much, just a few more weeks, but he only has until the end of the summer.

Tags: Hurt/comfort, physical abuse, polyamory negotiations, Post-traumatic stress disorder, low self-worth, bonding over trauma, themes of healing, mute characters, scent-marking, brief gore, themes of deception, complex characters

W/c: 10.6k

Song Rec: Hozier ~ Eden

Series Masterlist

An informative bulletin on Hybrid sense of Smell:

Out of all of the positives that hybrids inherit from their animal dna- their sense of smell is simply unparalleled. It’s one of the more peculiar and therefore interesting subsets of hybrid behavior. Hybrid sense of smell is just like any of the other senses though, in terms of the amount of sensory information contained, it is more on par with sight than the fragile human nose. It is possible that the vast majority of hybrid to hybrid communication is completely pheromonal. most scent glands are found on the wrists and neck.

When an owner or human initially comes into contact with a hybrid, the flush of new sensory information will be hard to parse out for most hybrids (and all but those with the most sensitive smell). At first, a hybrid will only be able to sense if you are feeling “good” or “bad” the same way we can often only tell when food smells good or bad.

But as time goes on, and hybrids become more accustomed to the particular hormonal balance of their humans they become more adept at deciphering their emotional state through their scent. Eventually, a person smelling simply ‘happy’ or ‘sad’ becomes “amused” and “contemplative” or any other host of emotions. This is one of the reasons why hybrids make intense emotional partners, as hybrids become accustomed to their owners or pack mates and they become extremely attuned. Some hybrids are even able to smell their female owner's ovulation cycle and if they’re pregnant before the owner themselves.

Scent is one of the most highly individualized parts of hybrid society, with no two hybrids smelling exactly the same (some exceptions can be made for close siblings and twins) scent-marking behavior is something commonly seen only between hybrids and their owners, as well as between hybrids in the same pack. As scent-marking leaves sort of an imprint of hybrid's emotional state on their partner. It is also a nonverbal queue for other hybrids “this person makes me very happy- please be kind to them for me” or “this is my human, please stay away” a negative impression will also be left on a human if they cause a hybrid distress.

Of course, certain species hybrids are more adept at this kind of empathy than others, with rabbit hybrids having the most sensitive sense of smell and therefore pungent scents, and most exotic hybrids including bird hybrids and snake hybrids, having a less sensitive nose and more mild scents which are harder to discern.

Many other tidbits of information can be conveyed through scents, weather a possible partner will be compatible for a heat/rut cycle, if they are upset and if they are injured or hurt, and their emotional state. There is even some debate that deception can be gleaned through scent (but that claim will need further research).

~~~~

- You wake with a start, started into wakefulness by a piercing shriek and then shouting. Out of all of the times you’ve suddenly woken out of a dead sleep this is by far the least violent. There isn’t anyone in your room but you, the covers overly warm, golden early morning light seeping through the windows, peaceful and idyllic.

- it isn’t one of the times that your late husband had dragged you out of the bed, kicking and screaming because he’d found something on your phone, a strange charge on your credit card, or woken to the feel of him above you, or woken to his screaming at Namjoon.

- You tell yourself that it’s just any other day, that this morning isn’t one of those. but your heart dosent understands that. thundering, your hands shaking.

- The days when you wake up slowly in Namjoon’s arms- those are the best mornings. But Namjoon isn’t next to you- and somehow your heart won’t start shuddering. Namjoon isn’t here and you want him there and your mind somewhere else entirely as you shakily exit your bedroom, tying your robe around you deftly.

- One benefit of living in an old house is that you can hear nearly everything that goes on, and you can hear Jimin's words below you “Yoongi- don’t look”

- Sometimes- you still have days where you hate your bedroom. Days where you won’t cross over the threshold with Namjoon already there, his every presence comforting to you- willing away any bad thought that might arise, any trigger or memory. You’d painted the walls a different color- the dark green changed to a light pastel blue- but some of the memories still linger even though it looks different and far warmer than it did when it was your husband's old bedroom.

- Most of the positive change has to do with Namjoon’s presence, the countless pillows that he likes to sleep with, the fluffy throws, his organized but slightly wry shirts in your open closet, his small stack of parenting books by your dresser. It might be the same room you were hurt in, but it feels different most of the time, especially when you’ve got namjoon all stretched out in your bed, All of the peace you have starts and ends with Namjoon.

- But maybe that’s changing, maybe you find a certain calm in Yoongi and Jimin too. Jimin is the first one you see, sending you a panicked glance as Namjoon cleans his face of blood, trying to stand in front of Yoongi for whatever reason the snake hybrid looking a little paler than usual.

- You stumble to the bottom of the stairs in your thick fluffy robe, some of your hair sticking up at the back. You take one good look at the snake, rub your eyes a bit, and then turn to the cat hybrid sprawled in the grass. Your eyes are steely, unflinching as you help her up, ask if she’s okay. All the while, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin blink back the sleep from their eyes, not knowing what to do about the snake, hanging flayed open on your front door.

- You take one long look at the snake too. All of you silent for a moment before you jump into action. “We’ll get this cleaned up before you get back with the others, wake Taehyung too if you wouldn’t mind? Tell him I’m calling a meeting before breakfast to make sure no one slips away for chores.”

- That Jimin understands, Many a time had he seen the younger and teenaged hybrids leave the table the second their plates where finished. Though he has to admit- this feels less like a prank gone wrong and more like I direct threat with the way Yoongi is blinking behind Namjoon, the other hybrid talking to him in his low voice. Hands out like they might touch him, Namjoon’s tail hanging low between his legs.

- You’re just about to turn away when Jimin grabs your arm. “There’s something you should know,” he’s quick to explain what happened last night, who kicked him out of his bed and the reason why he’d been asleep on your couch. Your mouth turns down the more he talks. “Bring Minhyung too okay? Are you okay lovely?” you keep Jimin’s hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

- The cat smooth’s out a wrinkle in her skirt and clears her butt of any dirt that might have gotten on it when she’d fallen backward, her tail flicks agitatedly “I’m okay miss, it just gave me a fright.”

- “I can’t imagine how none of us heard anything,” Namjoon says- finishing cleaning the blood from his face, thanking Yoongi for the towel. He looks a little shaken but mostly all right. “I know” Jimin agrees- “it was barely 10 feet from me and I didn’t hear it.” You grimace, still looking at the door and the snake, Namjoon finished wiping the blood off his face and you gesture for the rag.

- Jimin steps up “I’ll do it- you don’t have too” surprisingly the nail isn’t that deeply driven into the wood once Jimin gets over his initial squeamishness over handling the dead animal. Namjoon heads off as soon after Jimin gets it free to bury it in the garden. Still in his pajamas. You usher Yoongi upstairs while Jimin cleans the door of blood.

- You’ve been in Yoongi’s room a handful of times (when it was just your husband's house it used to be an office) but the dark blue walls fit Yoongi better now. His queen mattress pushed in the corner, an old ladder that Yoongi had repurposed hanging with half a dozen thick blankets and fluffy duvets, assorted space heaters and fans sitting on the desk pushed up against the foot of his bed. It’s cozy mostly- the curtains all drawn so the room feels more like a den or a cave. Dark- but warm and comforting, it feels safe even.

- Now that Yoongi’s away from the others it looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself, raking his fingers through his hair and twitching a little, He can’t relax or standstill. You set a cup of coffee for him on his bedside table and linger. Unsure if you don’t want to leave him alone or if he wants to be to regroup for a second. “Yoongi” he turns and looks at you, and sometimes- like this time. It almost seems like Yoongi wants to say something to you- but just- can’t get the words out.

- You wonder more than you’d care to admit- if his muteness is selective or something physical. Namjoon wonders too, what his voice sounds like if his laugh is more of a giggle like Jimin’s or something crackling like Nam Joon. “Do you-“ a little noise stops you, Yoongi’s hands clench and unclench by his side.

- You reach out a hand unthinking, stopping a second before you actually cup his cheek. You and Yoongi are no stranger to almost touches, especially on his good days. Many times you’ve felt the almost brush of his hand on your lower back when you stand, sometimes you actually do feel it.

- You were no stranger to slight touches either, always in the secluded privacy of your garden or the house when it’s late and the curtains are drawn. In front of namjoon too. You’d linked pinky’s more than once over a bed of flowers when you were taking a break. as he fed you a sweet strawberry or green beans from the garden. The pad of his finger lingering on your lower lip for just a second too long to not be intentional.

- But never had you initiated the touch, not like this. Your hand cups his cheek and Yoongi leans into it, eyes fluttering closed. The bags under his eyes are almost black-purple. The scales under his chin feel cool under your fingers, only slightly smoother and cooler than the rest of his skin.

- You’d asked Namjoon about it, pacing in your room after one day when you’d seen Namjoon watch you and Yoongi with a strange look on his face. You didn’t want to do anything that made him uncomfortable. At the end of the day, it will always be Namjoon. You won’t leave him or hurt him- not ever if you can help it. Thought at the beginning, you feared you could hurt him by accident with Yoongi.

- It was back when your baby bump had barely been visible- not like now when even your baggiest dresses barely conceal your bump. Nothing but a strategically placed pillow concealing Namjoon’s nakedness as he laid back in your bed late at night. Namjoon scrolling through his phone (new, a gift from you. though it will only last about a week until he decideds to try and ‘wash’ off the dirt that got on it and compeltly ruin it)

- You’d had minor disagreements over other hybrids in the past. Namjoon was mostly okay with you giving out pets like they’re one-dollar bills at the strip club. And was equally as nonplussed when some of the younger hybrids that don’t know any better cuddled close enough to you that you ended up smelling like them. But there had been one incident where one of the older canine hybrids had mistakenly scent marked you.

- Namjoon had been a little angry growling at you the second he’d smelled the fox’s scent on you and demanding you shower. Rightfully upset, he’d explained that that was practically a claiming mark. He’d been touchy and a little bit grumpy the rest of the week, an arm thrown around your waist whenever the other hybrid was around.

- But Yoongi Doesn’t seem to upset him in the same way. “I don’t get what you’re so worried about- it’s fine- it’s not like he’s not part of our pack or a stranger.”

- You’d stopped where you’d been pacing a hole in your carpet. “What do you mean- apart of the same pack?” Namjoon sighed, tossing his phone to the side (he doesn’t quite understand that he needs to be gentle with it yet). “it’s like- it’s not the same as if it was a random farmer across the street- because it’s Yoongi and he’s one of us, it doesn’t make me feel possessive because he’s mine too you know?”

- They had been getting close recently, there aren’t many hybrids at the farm yet, and Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin are the only ones who’ve stayed any length of time you’d consider significant. You’d woken alone late at night a few times in the last week and gone down to the living room lower level only to find Namjoon and Yoongi asleep on opposite ends of the couch.

- “But he’s not a canine hybrid Joonie? Don’t you only form pack bonds with other dog hybrids?” Namjoon shaking his head, ears flapping a little, “not at all, though it is rarer- and Yoongi won’t exactly feel it the same way I do, he’s still apart of this too.”

- It hits you like a truck, “you mean- you love him too?”

- You’d been meaning to ask Namjoon- if the pack bonds now extended to Jimin too, you had a feeling they did but it was probably better to ask…before anything more significant happens.

- You know that Yoongi is okay with touch as long as it’s not skin on skin and if he can control it. But you can’t not offer the affection now- not when you think it might help- not when Yoongi looks like he’s about ready to jump out of his skin with how afraid he is.

- You can tell his whole body is shivering but he doesn’t move to pull away when you lift up your other hand to slowly cup his cheek. He doesn’t move away when you get up on your tippy-toes to press your lips to his forehead. He smells soft and sweet like freshly done laundry. His hands come up too, loosely settling around your waist like he’s not sure he wants to pull you in for a hug yet.

- “We’ll get to the bottom of this yoongi, I promise” you give him one shorter squeeze and then separate. And Yoongi looks like he wants to keep holding you and also like he doesn’t. So you figure it’s best. You hover in the doorway, “take your time coming down today okay? We’ll have the meeting and then we can have breakfast up here if you’re not feeling up to being around the others today.”

- Your front door is clean, the light blue wood spotless when you come down the stairs, and By that time the cat hybrids have already returned to the kitchen. after changing into a loose knee-length dress, spotted with little flowers. It’s too hot for anything-tight today- but with your growing bump- everything feels tight. You’re only a few weeks away from the end of your second trimester, and you’re thankful that so far- you haven’t felt much morning sickness. You think you have a doctor’s visit later this week though- you’ll have to ask namjoon, he’s better at remembering that sort of thing than you are.

- One hybrid comes through the backdoor with a clutch of eggs from the chicken coop, the egg basket piled high, Jimin is with them too- holding a few eggs in his shirt- held out tight to make a basket, the cat hybrid smiles at you, “got almost 3 dozen today miss!”

- “Perfect for the frittata?” Jimin asks, unsure. “Quiche.” you and the cat hybrid correct at the same time. The three of you filing into the kitchen, Jimin careful not to break the eggs.

- A certain sleepy wolf hybrid is already sitting at your prep table, looking nervous, his scent souring when he sees you and Jimin. Jimin stays, this time crossing his arms and leaning up against the cabinets to watch Minhyung squirm. You sit down at the prep table across from him and pour him a cup of tea.

- He looks worried- sending a glance back and forth to Jimin and then to you. He knows what he did last night was wrong- and though Jimin can’t see any snake’s blood underneath his fingernails, the suspicion and dislike of the wolf hybrid still linger.

- But he doesn’t look like he’s trying to conceal anything. He just looks scared, eyes flicking from hybrid to hybrid, to the door and then the window and anywhere but at you and Jimin. Before the conversation’s even started, Jimin’s suspicion dissipates. While he agrees that Minhyung may be a dick, Jimin can’t believe that a hybrid would do this- they all know what discrimination feels like. Which is what makes their distaste of Yoongi particularly abhorrent.

- “I hear you have a certain problem with how I treat Yoongi, Minhyung. Would you like to elaborate? Or maybe explain why you kicked Jimin out of the bunk room last night? Or why you left a snake nailed to my front door-“

- “What?! I didn’t- I promise that wasn’t me,” Minhyung is smart- he understands what the commotion this morning was about. By now Taehyung must have woken everyone up- must have already told everyone about the meeting. Jimin doesn’t know if they’ve ever had one before, but judging by the general tense atmosphere in the kitchen alone- it must not be a regular occurrence.

- “I’m sorry,” he says, turning to Jimin, “I honestly thought you would be sleeping up here. I don’t sleep well and when you woke me up- I reacted badly. I promise I’ll be kinder- just don’t- please don’t throw me out.”

- “It’s not up to me,” Jimin says, his voice small, he gives you a look- that he hopes you interpret as ‘it’s up to you- I’m done with this’ and leaves the room. Only to find Yoongi hovering just outside, hidden behind the wall listening in.

- Jimin hears you and Minhyung starting up the conversation again, mostly it's him speaking this time- talking about his old owner who used sleep deprivation as a tactic to make him obedient. You don’t say much, just listen sipping at your tea. Yoongi lifts a finger to his lips and hands Jimin a carefully folded piece of paper. “I don’t think it was him.” By now Jimin is used to the way Yoongi sometimes converses on paper when he needs to communicate.

- “Do you know who it was then?” Jimin whispers, Yoongi shakes his head, but there is something about the tilt of his eyes that Jimin can’t find it in him to trust. But if there is a reason that Yoongi has for lying to him- then Jimin will trust it’s a good reason.

- He goes back into the kitchen, summoning you; you stand and walk to the door so that you won’t be overheard. Teetering a little bit, you look a little shaky too like you aren’t quite awake. Maybe that’s it- or is there something else? A shakiness behind your eyes too? Jimin can’t decipher it. Minhyung stays there, sitting looking contrite and like he’s close to tears. Fiddling with his hands under the table.

- “What are you going to do?” Jimin asks, Yoongi waiting too, his note crumpled in his fist. Namjoon comes thundering down the stairs in his work boots, looking intimidating as ever in all black. He must have snuck upstairs to change after he buried the snake in your garden. “I don’t know,” you say easily, crossing your arms over your baby bump, looking at Namjoon and sighing before you meet Jimin and Yoongi’s eyes. “Do you think he did it Yoongi?”

- Yoongi shakes his head, pursing his lips and Jimin decides that damn- he’s either a convincing liar or what he noticed earlier was just something else. Maybe Yoongi feeling uncomfortable. The buttons on his usual linen button-down aren’t buttoned right and his hair doesn’t have that usual perfectly swept out of his face look. Jimin is the only one still in his pajamas (which actually belongs to Yoongi) but he’ll try to change during the meeting.

- “If I throw him out there is a chance I could be punishing someone innocent, and if I let him stay there is a chance he could be guilty” Namjoon sits across the armrest of the old couch. “You’ve never thrown out someone before,” he says, bending down to tie his work boots.

- “No,” you say, eyes sharp on Namjoon, “but I’ve let you do it.”

- Namjoon freezes, standing up looking contrite, “I didn’t know you knew about that” Yoongi sends Jimin a panicked look; worried they’re about to witness some sort of fight between the two of you. But you just raise an eyebrow at Namjoon looking more tired than annoyed. “I’m not angry, but this should always be a joint decision,” you fiddle with Namjoon’s sleeve, tenderly smoothing over the edge of it. “So it’s settled then?”

- “This isn’t only our home anymore” you peer into the kitchen, keeping part of your body hidden by the wall. Minhyung still sits hands underneath his thighs, his head snaps up, black ears still buried in his hair. “You can stay, I trust you know that if anything else happens…” you trail off, he scrambles up from the prep-table. “Well, I trust you’ll have more sense than that.”

- He scrambles up from the prep-table. Minhyung almost breaks his back bowing to you, promising that he won’t do anything, that he’ll be the perfect hybrid again and again before he’s off down the hill- back to change out of his pajamas.

- It’s a humid day out and it isn’t even sunny, the moisture in the air oppressive. The hybrids are sleepy- hair and ears ruffled from sleep, some of them in work clothes and some of them still in their pajamas.

- Jimin sees one of the little ones make grabby arms at Seokjin (who looks clean pressed as ever) and the alpaca hybrid heaves the young one up into his arms, where it promptly closes its eyes and leans on his wide shoulder- the perfect place for a nap. Seokjin blushes when the new hybrid from a few weeks back, the otter Hoseok, comes over to coo at the little doe hybrid. His hands smoothing up and down her spine.

- Someone gets you a step stool and though Namjoon makes a face- he lets you use it to climb up onto a table. His hands anxiously hovering around your waist to make sure you won’t fall, he whines. But you ignore his instincts to be overprotective. Jimin can see the tension in Namjoon’s arms- he seems so worried that you’re going to fall- it’s almost cute.

- “This morning, a snake was nailed to my front door.” This is greeted by a few murmurs, nervous glances, and internal cringes. You hold up a hand, and the gathered hybrids all fall silent again. “You should all understand what safety means for a hybrid, and the fact that you would make one of your own feel unsafe and unwelcome- it hurts me. Because I obviously haven’t done a good enough job of taking care of you if you’re lashing out at one of your own. Yoongi is not to blame for your hurt.”

- Jimin is impressed by the way that you command their attention, The surrounding hybrids look scared; some look contrite, but most just look uncomfortable at being called out. They all know that Yoongi staying up in the main house and not in the barns isn’t a result of favoritism, but a necessity because of his inability to regulate his own body temperature. And even if you were playing favorites- it’s not like you don’t do the same with Namjoon?

- “If anyone has any complaints or is upset by the way I treat any one of you- you should come to me and talk about it. Not take it out on each other or my front door for that matter.” that gets a few chuckles out of the crowd. And it’s mostly the cat hybrids that have left the dishes in the kitchen to simmer rather than miss your announcement.

- After the meeting and breakfast, the four of you linger in the lower level of your house. The cleanup crew already blasting country music in your kitchen, and Jimin can see every twang of the country music irritates Yoongi and Namjoon

- Namjoon even making a small noise and rubbing his ears. You sigh, straightening out your dress on the bottom step, your hands shake a little. And you’re not the only one, Yoongi sits, his shoulders hunched. It only takes one glance up at them all for you to stop. Setting your sun hat back on the hook.

- “You know what- fuck this. We need to get out of here today.”

- All of you piling into your beat-up red truck, the same one Jimin had come to the farm in. Namjoon runs back in at the last moment to grab your purse. Yoongi and Jimin in the back two seats, a little cramped. Namjoon gets the front on account of his long legs. None of you talk about a destination as you make a three-point turn rather than try and back out of your near mile-long driveway.

- Not one hybrid lounging in the fields or moving about had given them so much as a look when you’d drove down the long hill. Pausing at the end only because Taehyung was nearby, the hybrid calling to you and trotting over to lean at your car door, his smile as happy as ever. Bear ears flickering in the holes cut out of his baseball cap.

- “Want to come with?” you offer, but Taehyung just shakes his head, “Nah my queen needs me” he tilts his head back in the direction of the bee hutches. is it Jimin’s imagination, or do you look a little crestfallen? “Need anything?” you’d proffered. He’s so tall he has to slouch to be at face level with you. Taehyung doesn't ask where you’re going, only looks as Yoongi leans over the front seat to fiddle with the radio, as if judging how affected the snake hybrid is by what transpired this morning. he flicks from channel to channel trying to find a song he likes. “Nothing really, maybe some more jars for honey if you can find them?”

- You nod softly “that I can do.” Taehyung steps back and waves as you pull out of the gates of the farm. And Jimin feels anticipation build underneath his skin. He’d rarely ever been outside of his old home before and now- now he was leaving the farm too- the destination uncertain.

- “Please don’t speed,” Namjoon says, Yoongi leans back from the radio, finally settled on some song with a low thread beat, more musical than anything else. The snake seems to vibrate with the force of the music and between that, the sound of the engine, and the wind whipping through the open windows, Namjoon has to shout to be heard. The wind tickles, but it’s the only relief from the muggy June heat since your air-conditioning is busted.

- You smile at him lightly; at 10am on the dusty dirt road there isn’t a sing soul with you on the road. You gun it. Namjoon grips the handle on the roof looking green, but when jimin looks over and sees you and Yoongi smiling at Namjoon’s queasy ness- his anxiety dissipates. It doesn’t matter that your truck is rusty and that you’re barely going over 40 in a 35- to Namjoon, one mile over the speed limit is breaking the law.

- You stop at the drive-through before you get on the highway, iced coffee for Yoongi, blended lemonade for Jimin, a hot chocolate for Namjoon (a travesty when it’s this hot) and an iced tea for you. The yellow lemons in your tea Jiggling with the ice as you hit potholes with little care for your truck. Yoongi leaning over periodically to change the song. Namjoon telling Jimin what genre is playing when he confesses he doesn’t know one, “is it jazz or ska?” Yoongi holds up two fingers- indicating the second choice, Namjoon nods.

- You look over your shoulder- sharing a special secret glance with jimin, rolling your eyes a little. Now he understands why you rarely ever play music when you work- if you did yoongi would get up to change the music every few seconds.

- “So where are we going?” you tap your fingers against the steering wheel, waiting to turn south onto the highway. “Probably not the beach, but maybe the State park? What do you think Joonie?”

- “I wouldn’t mind the state park, it’s got a pretty view” Jimin tries not to let his Disappointment show, especially when Namjoon turns to Jimin, sensing the whine that died in his throat. Yoongi nudges Jimin's foot with his own. The light turns green and you start to turn onto the highway. “I’ve never seen the ocean.”

- “What!?” you and Namjoon shout in tandem, you lurch to a dead stop, suddenly turning, around instead of just turning left. Yoongi turning to jimin mouth open. “Yeah- I’d never- I’d only been outside of like one block before coming to you?” Yoongi shakes his head as you get going the opposite way on the highway- getting into the slow lane because your truck just can’t handle going over 60 no matter how much you want it to be able to do that. “You don’t have to” Jimin tries to say; you smile when you glance over your shoulder at him. “I’m already on the highway Jimin.”

- Jimin pretends it doesn’t make his heart hurt a little bit to see you change so easily for him, the truck thudding along. Yoongi holding out the last half of his ice coffee for Jimin to try, smiling when he makes a face at the bitterness. You hold out your ice tea too, trading it for a sip of Jimin’s frozen lemonade. Namjoon offering him, but you being a little snarky, “sorry babe but I don’t think anyone but you want a hot chocolate in the middle of June.”

- Namjoon turns his full lanky body in your direction, thighs bulging out on the pleather, tipping his back and out of the window. “It just makes me unique,” you swallow, and jimin sees how viscerally you’re affected by the long line of him stretched out in the front seat of your car.

- Yoongi’s writes something on his notepad and handing it over to Jimin. “Yoongi wants you to know that you’re as unique as a dog sticking his head out the window of a car.” Namjoon scoffs, you laugh, Namjoon’s smirk as he looks at Yoongi is shy, and Jimin knows how that feels- the pride you feel at being known enough to be teased. “At least I know the difference between Ska and jazz now, that has to count something for uniqueness.”

- Jimin scoffs, “you gonna keep an imaginary tally or something?” Namjoon flicks his ears in Jimin’s direction, grinning, happy to be teased. “Yes- we can keep track, start being really weird like cutting our shirts into crop tops and painting them and shit,”

- “Oh please do that,” you say, and it’s a surprisingly attractive offer. Jimin has seen Namjoon’s stomach, all hard lines, and juicy skin when it pulls up or when it gets really hot and he takes off his shirt. And he can’t say he disagrees and judging by the high blush on Yoongi’s cheeks, he dosent either. All of you laugh with the way that Namjoon blushes and grumbles and fiddles with the edge of his shirt. The puppy is just too easy to tease.

- After some prodding, Jimin is tempted to lean his head out of the window too, and when he does he has to admit- looking down the narrow stretch of highway, eyes watering, his ears getting battered like hell because of the wind. It is worth it, his sensitive nose catching bits of something that smells like salt and fish the closer you get.

- Even Yoongi is tempted to do the same, though he might not get the same amount of joy the dog hybrids get from sticking their heads out the window. The wind sending his hair all windswept against his forehead. Curling because of the humidity.

- Yoongi’s tongue sticks out a little, as a snake hybrid his sense of smell isn’t nearly as good as Namjoon and Jimin’s, but it’s better when he can taste the air, the saltiness thicker the closer you get to the coast. Namjoon and Jimin’s tails wag out a rhythm on the seats.

- The beach is absolutely beautiful, the waves rolling and curling light blue but stormy the further out you go, Namjoon leaves his workboots in your truck and Jimin gets his knees and shorts all dirty in the sea spray, Yoongi declining to join in the water, writes that the salt makes his scales feel sticky and sits in the sand with your and Jimin’s shoes. Content to lean back and watch.

- Namjoon holding your hand to keep you steady as you dip your feet into the spray, your dress wiping in the wind. Jimin going crazy with excitement for a moment before he kicks at the spray and chases a few seagulls. None of you brought your swimsuits but Jimin dunks his full body once you gesture for him to take off his shirt so it won't get wet. You and Namjoon seem to have enough fun just dipping your feet in the cold water- but Jimin can’t get enough of the ocean now that he’s seen it. The way the waves curl, the thunder, the sharpness of salt on his tongue.

- He gets to knee height, and then to stomach height, the water is cold and a little unpleasant, but it’s worth it for the way the small waves ripple around him. Looking down at his body in the sea spray Jimin realizes- he doesn’t have a single bruise left on his body. It’s been some time since he came to stay at the farm and besides a few scars and aches, he doesn’t have a single mark on his body from what happened to him.

- The marks that lie underneath his skin- on Jimin’s soul could never go away as easily as that- but for a moment, he lets himself believe that the water could wash away even the wounds unseen. The last few weeks have taught Jimin that it’s not that easy, but if grief is the cousin of healing then Jimin will let himself feel sad about this if it means he can hope that one day he’ll barely feel broken.

- When he submerges his body and feels the drag of the ocean out to see, he lets himself imagine that the ocean is taking something from him and dragging it to a deep place where it can weigh on him anymore. And maybe when he gets his head above water- he feels a tiny infinitesimal bit better. but only time will tell if it actually makes it better. Jimin is on his way to healing and he knows he only needs time.

- When he gets back out, he almost stumbles in the surf and looks back at the beach, where the three of you are waiting for him. The three of you watch him separate himself from the waves. Your eyes going up and down his chest. Yoongi looking away after a moment. Writing on his pad of paper and scribbling it out angrily after a moment. Handing it over to Jimin

- “Feel better?” “Yeah- it’s” he shakes his body, ears flopping and sticking to his wet hair, the seawater beading in the sand. “It's nice in there. You should go in” “next time,” Yoongi writes. “You look a lot better Jiminie,” Namjoon says, handing over his flannel so that Jimin can use it to dry off. “What do you mean?” you stand to poke playfully at Jimin’s little poochy tummy, “you’ve gained a lot of weight you look healthy, I love it. ”

- He feels the fire in his cheeks, your words making his heart stutter. “Just one second” he turns away and hides his blush in Namjoon’s flannel, a high-pitched and very loud whine building in his chest or something like the need to scream swallowed by his throat because- ah fuck. He’s feeling something he shouldn’t be, isn’t he? But he must make some noise because you’re all laughing, Yoongi’s shoulders shaking as he hides his smile behind his hand.

- Before he’s turning back and handing it back to Namjoon face redder than a tomato. The other hybrid doesn’t say a thing about how it’s soaked in both water and Jimin’s scent, he Just ties it around his waist like Jimin’s scent clinging to him is the most natural thing in the world.

- You go back to the car so Namjoon can get his shoes, you talk about heading back but Yoongi isn’t ready to leave, wants to stay a little bit longer. You walk along the boardwalk; you buy some fried food that the three of you snack on, cyclone potatoes, and fried clams. Yoongi crunches into them happily, his cute little fang curling around his lip.

- Eventually, the boardwalk turns from games and restaurants into a small flea market, kitschy decorations, an overpriced Pepsi sign from the 1950s, a table made out of a glass coffin, curling horns mounted from some sort of creature. You mill about when your phone rings, shrill. “Hey Tae, what’s wrong?” you fiddle with a glass wall hanging; the stained glass fashioned to look like a cherry. Prattling onto Taehyung over the phone as Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin look through the tables of knickknacks.

- Yoongi eyes a silk dress shirt- Kind of garishly patterned. As behind them, a little girl points in their direction. There aren’t many other hybrids out on the boardwalk today, so Namjoon smiles at her, his scarred lip always moves a little less than the rest of his face, and the little girl’s mother pulls her closer and moves on quickly. Namjoon’s smile falls crestfallen.

- But as quick as the disquiet comes Yoongi is making him laugh by showing him a figurine- a piggybank that looks like a butt, the crack a hole for a coin. And the moment is forgotten. Most of the time- Jimin forgets what Namjoon must look like to the others, the scars that stretch, one from his jaw to halfway up to his cheek, another across and eye, and the newer one- from his chin to his lip.

- Jimin spies a weird metal holder, a sun on the front, mostly rusty, weird holes and test tubes set up so that they can stand in the holes. The man who runs the stand comes over to him. He’s not unkind to them, seems to be something of an outcast himself with his tattoos and gauged piercings. He greets jimin with a wide smile. “It’s meant for flowers, the test tubes hold one a piece” Namjoon smiles at him too. Sidling up behind Jimin, putting a hand on his shoulder. Namjoon’s warmth splaying over half his back “how much is it?”

- By now it's no secret how much Jimin loves flowers, a love both of you share (Yoongi’s thing is more vegetables). “Namjoon you don’t have too- I don’t need it” he looks like he’s about to say something, Yoongi scrawling something but before either of them can say anything, you get off the phone a few feet away. Pinching the bridge of your nose and their attention is diverted.

- You look substantially more stressed and they don’t need to ask what happened. “Apparently everything goes to shit when we’re gone, but a fuse blew in the house and now none of the refrigerators are working. We also got another call but the old owners are gonna drop the hybrid off later tonight. And apparently, a goat got into the garden but Seokjin got to him before he’d done any damage.” Yoongi looks about ready to run back into the truck at that.

- “Probably because he was distracted running after that otter hybrid again” you slap Namjoon’s arm good-naturedly. “Hush they’ve got crushes, and you remember what that’s like right?” Namjoon glances at Jimin and then at Yoongi, “yeah- I think I do.”

- As you’re on the way out you pass by the fruit section of the flea market- the place that is more a farmers market at the edge of the boardwalk. “those watermelons look good” you divert your course, and Namjoon rolls his eyes, “next thing I know her cravings are going to have me putting watermelon in sour cream soon”

- “That doesn’t seem like a bad combination at all” Yoongi makes a disgusting face, suddenly freezing when he looks over your shoulder, someone walks close to him, nearly knocking into Yoongi and his scent, disquieted and afraid fluffs towards Namjoon and jimin, they hover- instantly surrounding Yoongi while you are unaware.

- Which is fine- you’re not a hybrid and you can’t smell Yoongi’s distress like they can, you’re distracted by the lady who owns the stand coming upfront to greet you. Namjoon shrivels his nose, the smell of cigarettes permeating and making it hard for him to smell anything else.

- He tries to waves his hands and tell Namjoon and Jimin he’s fine but they won’t listen, the two of them stand on either side of him, staying close but not touching Yoongi- keeping anyone else in the crowd from coming close.

- You start talking to the woman who looks like she owns the stand. she gives one of the watermelons a hearty slap and yoongi flinches. She’s got long black hair and a wide smile- but she looks nice. She makes a wry comment about your baby bump and the watermelons, which you laugh about good naturedly about even if it is a little rude in Jimin’s opinion. Saying that you’re not at the true watermelon part of your pregnancy yet.

- In the end- you part with 10 (for everyone on the farm- it can never hurt to have easy snacks like watermelon in storage) and a half-bushel of their assorted vegetables. As much as you want to be completely self-sustainable your vegetable garden isn’t nearly ready to support every hungry mouth at the farm, and their English cucumbers are long and hard. You look happy to do business with them all said and done.

- The lady directs one of her farm hands, a big burly man with a bunch of tattoos to help Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi carry them back and fort to your truck. Yoongi stops you when they’re finished. Shoving a note in your direction. “There’s something I want to go do, can you give me a second?”

- You nod, already taking out your wallet. Behind the two of you Jimin sneaks a handful of grape tomatoes into his pocket- they’re still his favorite. “we’ll get a few snacks for the drive home, take your time” he tries to not take your money but you won’t take no for an answer. Eventually shoving it in the breast pocket of his linen shirt if he won’t take it with his hands. He grumbles, shoving the wad of 20’s deep in his pocket.

- The three of you don’t think anything of it at all. After all- snake hybrids have uniquely tricky scents to parse out. So it’s no wonder why Jimin and Namjoon don’t smell the distress coming from him still. You think you notice something- but you let it slide. You’re never one to let Yoongi’s sudden mood changes affect you or take them personally.

- Sometimes he just gets too overheated to process things right. And you can tell from the way he’s listless that he’s at least approaching overheating. Getting into the car with the air-conditioning will be good for him. You make a mental note to pick him up another ice coffee.

- But meanwhile- while you’re waiting in line at a fast-food stand, Namjoon grabbing a few bags of chips off of a rack and jimin screwing around with a soda dispenser- figuring out how many different types of soda he can fit in one cup. Yoongi is being thrown into the side of a truck with a loud clang. His back hitting it and then his head jarring painfully. The sound alone sending him reeling into the dirt. But the man doesn’t let him fall. A hand savagely yanking his hair back. The unwanted contact sending shivers all up and down his body.

- “And here I thought you’d be more careful not to come so close. Did you think no one here would recognize you? We knew you where here the second you stepped out of that shitty truck.”

- Yoongi blinks, trying to keep the black spots out of his eyes. And she’s right. He did know better, the beachfront has always been their territory. Yoongi remembers the days he’d sneaked out and walked down to the beach in the middle of the night. The only time he ever felt some semblance of freedom. As long as he remained unseen and unheard she didn’t care. But today he’d been the opposite of unseen.

- He can’t respond. And Knows better than to try. His owner has never been fond of Yoongi’s voice, and she’s trained him well enough to know not to use it ever in front of her, his whole body had almost jumped out of his skin when he’d seen her, and seen you in front of her. All of the protective instincts in his body screaming at him to get you away from her to get you away from danger.

- Yoongi might be a liar, and a filthy double-crosser, worth every bit of ire and distrust from the other hybrids. He might not deserve your kindness or your care- not even a little bit and still, he’d never let anyone hurt you.

- She kicks off a crate of peaches; her black boots clicking on something metallic in the dust, cracking into one with a pop of her teeth into the tight skin. Coming close and getting in Yoongi’s face as the man holds him there for a second more, but then releases him. Both of them know they can’t rough Yoongi up like usual- any bruises would be too suspicious.

- “Did you like my little present this morning?” Yoongi flinches and she laughs. He’d suspected but hadn’t really known for sure if the message this morning was from her. But now he knows, he’s even more afraid than he was opening the door this morning. At least he’d come when called, Yoongi doesn’t want to think about what would have happened or what might have popped up on your front door had you gone somewhere else today.

- Yoongi is a good hybrid. Years of getting thrown into walls and slapped and kicked and burned by the stray end of a cigarette have trained him well, he always comes when he’s called.

- “You have until the end of the summer Yoongi- after that if you’re not back and with what I asked for, I’ll make sure that house goes up in flames.” She flicks a lighter, starting up a cigarette that makes Yoongi’s nose twinge uncomfortably. Bad memories. So many bad memories from looks like that as she puffs on her cigarette and blows the smoke in his face.

- “It’s a cute house, especially the garden. I didn’t know you had a thing for that- maybe I’ll have you grow some kale or vegan shit for me when you get back. And then I’ll really be like little miss high brow too huh? Looks like she eats healthy” Yoongi shakes and his owner laughs. So then she has been watching him. He doesn’t let himself wonder who at the farm might be there for a reason like Yoongi. What other snakes you might have in your garden.

- Yoongi can’t be there for long, can’t be absent. But he knew from the second he met his owner’s eyes over your shoulder that she would expect him to report back. That to not come when he was called would be as good as promising violent retribution, something far worse than a snake nailed to your front door.

- She leans in close to Yoongi, and Yoongi can’t resist leaning away, as she breathes the smoke in his face, his hands shaking at his sides. He watches her put out her cigarette in the peachy pink flesh of the peach wincing.

- He knows better than to talk back now or even squirm as she leans closer, barely a centimeter from his face. Even though a hook on the side of the truck is digging into the small of his back. “Remember little viper- if I see you so much as touch them- or let out even a fucking whisper- I’ll kill them in front of you then kill you myself”

- Yoongi understands- how could he not- he’s nothing more than her plaything- her spy. Yoongi wonders what she’d do if she knew he’d already broken the first rule. No touching though there had only been a few times, your hand on his arm when he was in the middle of a heat-induced meltdown, and this morning when you’d cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead.

- Before anything else happens, 3 other men of her’s come around the corner of the truck, two of them hooding up the third who looks close to passing out. blood dripping down the side of his shirt. Yoongi has seen enough fights to know how someone looks when they’ve lost one. What’s more surprising is the fact that they’ve lost one here- the boardwalk is supposed to be his owner's territory. To touch her operation here- that means something significant, but even more strangely, his owner and her right-hand man don’t even look surprised.

- He struggles to put the situation together, Yoongi remembers one time when they were teenagers- back when it wasn’t his owner's gang, but her father’s. How he’d gone into a rage because some rival had decided to even vacation on their beaches- nearly unloading the full clip of a gun into their group in broad daylight.

- If they’re being pushed back- even to here, then there is something wrong- a rival gang or the police- whichever party had earned his owner's aggression this time, was surely soon to fall. But a gang war isn’t something that Yoongi’s ever seen. She fusses over the man two others holding him up, and Yoongi slides away, back into the crowd of the boardwalk. Knowing this time- he won’t be missed.

- Yoongi walks back to the car, telling himself to enjoy every minute that he has left. Because once the summer heat fades. He knows it’s all going to go away. As he walks, even as he knows there’s probably someone watching him. He stops in front of the flea market. His feet unable to take him closer to you, the closer he gets- the less safe you are. and still- he wants to be close to you- for just a little longer, so that he knows what it’s like.

- To have a pack, a family, people who care about him and love him. Before he goes back to how he lived before he wants you to know that he loves you, loves Namjoon and Jiminie too. That he would stay if he could.

- He might not be able to touch any of the people he wants to touch in the way that he wants or say the words that he wants to say, but he can show you all that you mean to him. At least now- before time runs out and it’s too late.

- Maybe some acts of defiance are less about trying to live, and more about making sure you have a chance to live before his misdeeds eventually catch up with him. And if anyone is deserving of some sort of karmic judgment It’s Yoongi.

- He hopes you won't hate him when you find out- if you ever do.

- It’s worth it- it’s all worth it to see the way that Jimin’s ears perk up when Yoongi brings back the flower holder from the stand for him, that and a silk bandana for Namjoon to keep his hair back when he’s working, and the little wall trinket you were looking at. stained glass cut in the shape of a pair of cherries. (He won’t know- but later- you’ll hang it in the window of the nursery of your and Namjoon’s room)

- The puppy holds the flower holder in his lap the whole ride home. Nearly getting his chubby finger stuck in one of the test tubes at one point. That nearly makes Yoongi laugh out loud. As you wind your way back to the farm, snacking on fried dough and blooming onions making Namjoon’s breath stinky enough that you press on his chest when he leans in for a kiss and eventually relents when he lets out a heartbreaking wine.

- Yoongi doesn’t let himself dream for more of this- because however long he gets he know he won't deserve it either way- he doesn’t deserve a single act of kindness from you. Let alone the kind of care and love you’ve all shown him. He just closes his eyes, leans his cheek against the open window, and lets his soul rest. Just for a little longer. All he needs is a little longer.

- Yoongi lies to himself and tells himself that the summer will be enough.

- Later that night, You’re already underneath your covers, turning restless in your too warm sheets. Namjoon lingers in the bathroom brushing his teeth. “Did you notice something strange with Yoongi today?”

- “No- why?” you fiddle with the edge of your coverlet.

- “He seemed super tense on the way how and somehow I got it into my head that there was something more wrong with him than usual” Namjoon sets a glass of water for you on your bedside table pulls himself over the top of your bedspread. Pressing a toothpasty kiss to your mouth that makes you smile. His hand coming up to cradle your hip, thumb rubbing wide strokes over your baby bump.

- He always gets this look in his eyes. A little lost in his own love when he looks at you late at night like this. You pepper a kiss down his cheek and over his scar, making his face twitch a little-you know it tickles in the same way he knows you’re teasing him- just a little. “If you want to go check on him, I don’t mind.”

- Namjoon’s point is clear, the emphasis on check you know what he means and what he wants. The emphasis on hybrid pack dynamics, that it really wouldn’t be strange to Namjoon If you went to Yoongi’s room…and ended up spending a little time there. If anything- it probably seems weird to him if you haven’t.

- You let the moment slide, lean over to turn off the light, and kiss Namjoon a little more, his lips are hot but gentle on yours. Taking the time to kiss you without a rush for more, nipping at your neck once before he settles in- you’re getting into the stage of your pregnancy where its hard to lay on your side too much so instead- Namjoon mimics your usual position, his leg slung over your thighs, head tucked close to your shoulder.

- And he makes these cute little noises, little huffs and small growl groans that remind you of a puppy before he falls asleep. But you can’t sleep- you stare at the ceiling in your bedroom and can’t help but think about Yoongi earlier. How you thought for a second you’d seen him crying on the way home, spied in your rearview mirror, head hanging out the window and his cheeks wet. somehow your bed feels more empty than it used too. Even with you and Namjoon in it.

- after a few more minutes where you wonder if you’ll ever get to sleep, You slip out of your and Namjoon’s bed and sneak down the hallway. Your footsteps cushioned against the carpet as you head down the hall to Yoongi’s room. and you know it’s late but you can’t leave him alone- not when you could fix it and help him.

- You knock softly; thinking about all of the times in which you try to help- on your worst days- when it feels like helping others is all your good for. nothing else in you but that, nothing to appreciate or love beyond what you can do for others because you feels so broken- too broken to be loved without giving up your time like an apology. A lot of the time it feels like you have nothing but acts of service to offer. But on those days, it’s always Namjoon, Yoongi, and jimin that soothe you without even trying,

- Your lover cupping your chin in his hand and telling you that he can’t get enough of you, that he thought about you all day and couldn’t wait to just stand close to you. The quiet care he shows you, massaging the puffy ball of your ankle. The way sometimes he’ll come up behind you when you’re fiddling with your outfit in the morning, his wide hands fisting in the sides of your dress. Making a low whine and scent marking along your shoulder so that every hybrid on the farm knows you’re his.

- The way namjoon can tell just by looking at you if you need his help, and knows better, like today, when you need a little distance to get your thoughts sorted.

- Yoongi’s soft companionship the way he’ll shake his head and take the heavy things from you, the roll of his eyes doing the speaking for him, “what would Namjoon think if I let you carry this on your own” or the way that he’d sometimes tap the edge of your hat with his long fingers making it bounce, lip pulling up to show his cute little fangs.

- When jimin looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the side for him. Ready to ramble on and on about whatever new thing he’d tried today. Wanting to include you in his process as he became adjusted to the world. The way that he hangs on to every word you say, following you around like a lost puppy, but you would never mind that- how could you? When he was so smitten that it made your heart flutter to be liked with such loving intent.

- You knock on Yoongi’s door, and he answers with wet cheeks, looking startled, rubbing his cheek with the side of his hand. “Yoongi, are you alright?” he shakes his head, hovering, body swaying. You can tell from the hum that the air-conditioning is on high. Not too surprising given the heat of the day, and you know it’s easier for Yoongi to make his room cool and then work up to the kind of warmth he needs then do it the other way.

- His blinds are all drawn, no light on in his room. Thought you peeked outside and sure enough- the stars were shining bright, no moon in the sky. “Can I come in?” Yoongi looks like- fuck- this is going to hurt him, but he nods anyway.

- He scoots over in his bed and moves one of the covers down and lets you climb in on the other side of the bed, and the covers are cool and comfortable beneath your skin, the only light in the room comes from the display panel of the air-conditioning unit and the green makes Yoongi’s eyes glow yellow. “You can tell me- something’s wrong, isn’t it? if its something I can fix you’ve got to tell me- Yoongi- I-“

- Yoongi pulls himself up to hover over you on one arm, his other hand coming up to comb back your hair, you’re stunned into silence. The words leaving your mouth as you find yourself inches away from him, the cool line of his body pressed up against yours. And you think- because you’re both in pajamas and not actually touching skin to skin- you think that is the reason why it might not bother him so much.

- Yoongi is all lithe muscle and harsh edges, but he’s nothing more than gentle with his hands when he softly brushes over your cheek, his eyes molten gold as he tilts his chin up, his soft lips press against your forehead for just a second, the reverse of what you’d done for him this morning.

- Maybe you were both too worn out from the day’s events not too need each other’s company. He tilts his body to the side and leans up on his elbow to watch you. And you might expect it to feel strange- his body and it’s the absence of heat, but underneath the covers it actually feels comforting, cooling amid the summer humidity that just won’t quit.

- He leans in close to poke at your cheek with his nose, nuzzling with slow curling motions as if to tell you- go to sleep, and sleep you do, the coolness of the bed and Yoongi’s body supplying relief to your overheated muscles. Yoongi knows what you needed without you having to say it- the same way that you always knew what he needed. Yoongi stays close and curls around you tightly- his arm and his leg wrapping around you, protecting you both from something you might not see.

- Your last thought before you fall asleep is a question, is Yoongi’s strong grip on you- like he’s holding on for dear life, something to do with his snake genes? Or is there some other reason why his muscles and legs tremble when they hold you close like he’s afraid something is going to be able to separate you.

- Before you truly fall asleep, you think you hear a low voice say something, just a few words, but regardless of what Yoongi might have said- or if he spoke at all, You won’t remember it in the morning.

Kofi

BONUS: Jimin’s little flower holder!

1K notes · View notes

jeonqqin · 4 years

Text

man up. [m] | pt. 3

h. jisung x reader | netflix rom-com au

— ❝Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?❞

WORD COUNT: 4k

CONTAINS: brothers best friend au, teen rom-com au, sorta crack fic, love triangle au, college au

WARNINGS: slight angst?, gross/cringy couple, language

A/N: Hyunae is a normal person guys 🤭

▸ request

CHAPTERS: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 +

blog masterlist | ⟲ fic song

—UNEDITED

“Don’t even think about it.”

Jisung froze in place, his eyes wide. He hadn’t even said a word and you were already angry with him? He didn’t even know how you could tell it was him—your back was turned and you were staring intently down at your laptop. And he certainly hadn’t expected you to snap at him when he finally found you tucked away in the library.

“Huh?”

“If you plan on bothering me while I’m studying, I will not hesitate to throw my laptop at your head.” You threatened, not once taking your eyes off your notes.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Jisung defended, suddenly ready to block any flying objects from hitting his head. “I just got here!”

You turned your head to send a quick glare to him, just to make sure he knew you weren’t happy with him, before resuming your typing.

To say you weren’t happy with how your little dinner went the other day, would’ve been an understatement. You were currently giving the silent treatment to three of the five people who were at the table and even though you really had no reason to be mad at Jisung, he pushed your buttons so you wanted him away. Unfortunately, it seemed that you had grown a parasite.

“Come on, Y/n. Seriously?” Jisung asked.

Your head shook, eyes rolling in dismissal.

“Yes. I’m—” you sighed, hand lifting to rub over your eyes. You were tired and your eyes hurt. What were you studying again? “I’m serious, you asshole. I need to get this shit done and over with.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes.”

Even without looking at him you could tell he was pouting, his lip pulled up and brows furrowed.

“I didn’t do anything this time!” Jisung defended, rounding the table to look you in the eye. “Why’re you mad at me?”

He sounded so much like a scolded child, it took everything in your being not to just grab your stuff and leave. Though, as tempting as the thought was, he’d probably just follow you and you’d be right back at the start.

“You’re annoying.” You answered simply.

He stood there for a moment, watching you with too much intensity for your liking. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, his eyebrows slowly forming into a frown as the seconds tick by. It was unnerving to say the least.

But finally, Jisung sighed, reaching over to shut your laptop.

You gawked at his blatant disregard of your words.

“I—” You stammered, reaching out to grab his wrist in whatever attempt you were making to stop his disruptive behavior. “You can’t—!”

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked, freezing you in your spot.

When… did you eat last?

He waited for your protests and whines but none came, there was just a big puff of the last bit of your resilience. Jisung rolled his eyes fondly, his way of silently saying, “yeah, exactly”. So he continued onward, pulling your chair out and sliding your laptop into your bag.

“Let’s go.” He droned, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of your chair.

You released a small groan in defiance but it was short-lived as Jisung maneuvered your head to rest on his shoulder, one of his arms wrapping securely around your waist to keep you from going limp.

It hasn’t been the first time he had to drag you away from the library, and it definitely wasn’t going to be the last. You were too stubborn for your own good.

You sighed, finally just slipping into the warmth of Jisung’s shoulder. “You don’t have to baby me, you know.”

You felt Jisung’s body shake in a silent chuckle.

“I know. But I want to.”

You had always felt strange whenever Jisung took care of you. It wasn’t like Minho, who was your actual brother. Your relationship with Jisung was something that felt both artificial and natural all at the same time. He felt obligated to help you just as Minho did, but that only made things between the two of you feel fake. Though you knew he sincerely cared about your wellbeing.

If only he would stop trying to fit into that mould that Minho built around himself. Maybe then Jisung and you could be really good friends. But that would never happen while he was trying to compensate and prove whatever it was that he was trying to prove to whoever he was trying to prove it to.

Maybe after that he could be more than your brother's best friend.

“Lix is going to punch me if I miss our lunch again.” You huffed into the fabric of his... sweater?

When did he start wearing those?

Jisung patted your arm, “Well, he won’t be punching you today. You need to eat.”

Your eyebrow raised as you shifted enough to look at him.

“And you’re going to carry me the whole way?”

“Of course.” He nodded without a second thought, a proud smile on his face. “Where are we going?”

Jisung could be really cute sometimes, and you couldn’t help but smile at that realization. He thrived off of making other people feel good, and when he succeeded, he got giddy.

You struggled to pull your phone from your back pocket, scrolling through all the messages you and Felix sent that morning. You hummed, “Felix said we were going to Haven.”

Exiting the library, Jisung groaned, “Again? We just went yesterday.”

You shrugged against him. “He has a soft spot for Jeongin.”

Finally reaching the chilly air waiting outside of the university building, you cursed under your breath. No matter how many layers you threw on, the autumn wind was always there to seep through them, nipping at your sensitive skin. The leaves were finally changing, which was beautiful, but you couldn’t really appreciate their beauty when the wind and rain whipped them off their branches.

It was a little like college; no matter how pretty or vibrant you were, the whirlwind of work and studying always threw you around enough to knock you off that pedestal. Until you were bare and ready for summer to come again so you could recharge.

The cycle was a bitch.

Jisung sighed with you, his eyes gazing out at the pretty leaves as well. Gradually he adjusted you enough so he was able to slip his arm from your waist and then sliding it over your shoulders. The extra padding if his sweater was nice against your cheek, bringing just a little bit of warmth.

He peaked at you in the corner of his eye, looking forward again to avoid being caught in the action.

“Do you want to take the bus? It’ll take a little longer, but at least we won’t blow away.” He suggested with a small snicker as his bangs whipped around his eyes.

You considered it, hands finding warmth in the fabric of his grey pullover.

“Sure, but it’ll probably be packed since everyone is getting out of class.”

He looked to be weighing the options in his head, but suddenly he was at a standstill, his once-limp arm going completely stiff around you.

“Ji?” A delicate voice rang, followed by a small laugh. “I called you twice, baby. Where were you?”

Ew, you frowned, what a movie moment.

Hyunae stopped in front of you, her tawny locks swinging in a pretty braid at her ribs and her thick sweatshirt hanging loosely down around her thighs. You knew it was Jisung’s—you had seen him wearing it before. Hell, you’d seen Minho wearing it.

She wasn’t in anything extravagant or flashy, but with her honest eyes and round cheeks, she didn’t have to be to stand out from everyone else in the world.

The moment her eyes made a sweep of Jisung’s frozen position, they flickered to you, her face slowly settling into something akin to a frown. It was a look that could make anyone feel sad, her face looked unnatural when sullen.

With a nudge from you, Jisung jumped to his girlfriend’s side, leaving you exposed to the chilling wind.

Boys were stupid, weren’t they?

“Sorry, angel—”

Oh, gag.

“—Y/n stuffed herself in the library. Someone had to pull her out for some air.”

He smiled down at her, unconsciously maneuvering his body in the way of the violent wind, shielding her small frame.

She nodded slowly, again looking over towards you.

“Okay. But Ji,” she paused, grabbing his hand to gain his attention. “You know how I feel about you being affectionate towards other people, right…?”

Jealous, insecure, though not completely irrational—

Jisung bent closer to her, lips curled apologetically. “I know, baby. I’m sorry, but it’s like second nature with Y/n! She’s like a baby sister, you know that.”

Hyunae sighed. She was ready to spout out more choice words, but with a small smile, Jisung began to pepper her face with quick kisses, bringing a melodic giggle to her lips.

They seriously couldn’t have forgotten about you. You were standing three feet away from them.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, finding the flying leaves much more interesting than the display in front of you. The giggling stopped and things suddenly felt much more uncomfortable.

“I’m going to head over to Haven, okay?” You asked, ready to speed-walk as far away from their little reunion as you possibly could.

Hyunae places a chaste kiss to Jisung’s mouth before grabbing his hand and hooking it around her waist. She patted his stomach, fluttering her long lashes up at him, “I could go for something to eat. Can I tag along?”

Your nose scrunched up in distaste.

She had to be laying it on thick on purpose. You had seen the two of them together before and sure, they were a lovey-dovey couple, but did she have to look up at Jisung like he had hung the stars in the sky?

Jisung wasn’t any better, his cheeks a nice rosy color, and his hands touching all the little curves of her waist.

Every moment you were within range of Hyunae, you were ignored. She wasn’t outwardly an attention seeker, but just her being there called everyone’s eyes. Not that you wanted to be the center of attention necessarily, it only bothered you when you spoke out and were completely brushed off. Your words going in one ear and out the other with both Hyunae and Jisung, it was frustrating.

They were always in their own little world, and you couldn’t have been the only one who didn’t want to be there to witness it.

“Yeah,” Jisung nodded obediently. “Of course you can, sunshine.”

Well, if you hadn’t been hungry before, you definitely weren’t now.

You deadpanned, spinning on your heel, “Great. I’ll be on the bus then.”

“We’re definitely going on the bus though. Your pants look too thin to be walking around in this weather.”

Hyunae giggled at her boyfriend’s words.

Maybe you could lose them and take the next bus back to your dorm.

You weren’t being petty—no one liked being ignored. That was a fact. Stepping up to the campus bus stop, the last of the crowd was piling into the bright blue vehicle, and you released a relieved sigh. The last thing you wanted to do was sit and wait for ten minutes while Jisung and Hyunae cooed and pinched each other’s cheeks.

Your relief proved to be in vain, however, as you slid into the last remaining seat, only to be followed by the couple. They stood directly in front of you, their shadow casting down and becoming the only thing you could see.

Never had you thought that you would be able to feel your stomach flipping upside-down inside of you as Hyunae pulled Jisung down into a kiss in front of everyone in the crowded bus. Would you really be committing a crime if you threw them out the window? Could it be considered a public service?

“Baby, stop! There are people here…”

Seriously, what kind of sadistic soap opera were you living in?

You had thrown yourself out of your seat the moment the bus crawled to a stop. It was a good thing the diner was the first stop or else you probably would’ve walked the rest of the way and risked being caught in the wind. Even then it would’ve been better than sitting and pretending not to see the cuddling happening a foot away.

You were going to order a cup of coffee and leave with a stomachache—that was your plan.

Maybe Minho would be home and you would be able to slide into his bed and beg for him to cuddle you. Not that there was a particular reason why you were suddenly feeling needy and void of attention, Minho was just kind of squishy and made a good pillow on occasions where you had to force yourself to sleep before you attempted to squeeze more studying in.

“It took you long enough to get here.” Felix called as you slid into the seat beside him, waving off the confused look he sent you. You simply motioned towards the smiling couple and watched as your best friend’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, yeah. Okay.”

You deadpanned, “Quick, kill me before they get here. We can both get out of this.”

“No way, you get the easy way out. I’m here stuck with murder.”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically, the sides of your mouth finally twitching at the corners.

“Trust me, jail for life is better than five minutes around these two.”

“You’re being dramatic. Let the young couple be gross.” Felix said as he nudged at your arm.

“Screw you and your dumb romantic heart. To normal people this is bordering on public indecency.”

Felix’s lip curled at the side as the two sat down on the other side of the table, Hyunae grabbed one menu for the both of them and opened it to discuss amongst themselves and they had to be covering every single disgusting couple trope out there. No matter how many times you witnessed it, it would always surprise you as to just how much you wanted to throw up.

But it was when Felix mouthed the word “jealous” did you determine that your day was just going to be shitty and you couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

“Did you order yet, Lix?” Jisung chimed, his voice almost sounding brighter than it had before. Did Hyunae really affect him that much?

“No. I was waiting for Y/n to get here.” He shrugged, holding up his own menu.

Hyunae looked up, her eyes shining with worry.

Gross.

“I hope we didn’t intrude or anything.”

Who even said “intrude” anymore?

Felix shook his head. “You’re fine. Y/n is usually a bummer to eat with anyway.”

Hyunae glanced your way before chuckling, shaking her head as she refocused back on Jisung who was desperately trying to show her something on the laminated sheet in front of them. He was actually a child.

Who got excited about menus? He ordered the same thing every time he ate at Haven, what was there to be excited about?

“What can I get you guys?”

Jeongin’s smile just barely lifted your mood, and you were grateful.

Felix set his menu down, “I’ll just have a Coke, and I wanted to know if I could order off the dinner list?”

And with that question, your mood was immediately diminished. You frowned, sending Felix a look similar to disgust.

What kind of day were you having?

“Can even be considered dinner? It’s four o’clock, who eats dinner at four in the afternoon?”

“It’s called the early bird special, you disrespectful baby. Old people do this shit all the time.” Felix pointed, sliding his menu across the table to Jeongin.

“Sorry that I don’t know the routine of old people, Felix.”

Jisung frowned, his eyes trying to catch yours to assess what was wrong, but you were too busy ripping up what was left of Felix’s napkin. Though, Hyunae noticed where Jisung’s gaze was lingering, and slid her fingers through his.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Hyunae asked, voice lit with the intention of lightening the mood. “You seem a little grumpy today.”

But you saw nothing humorous in her comment. You bit your tongue, hard enough to taste the faintest of copper.

“A coffee.”

“Just—?”

“Just a coffee, Jeongin.”

The table went tense at the way your voice rose, Jeongin moving quickly to jot down your simple request, no longer looking up from his notepad. You would’ve felt bad had you not been so frustrated with the turn out of the day.

Hyunae then cleared her throat, her brows raised in the smallest action of judgement. It was similar to the many looks she had shot at Hyunjin during one of their many heated arguments, and that was what you hated about Hyunae. Not only did she get on every one of your nerves by being the world’s best girlfriend, but she had the incredible ability to make you feel like you had done so much wrong just within the few seconds of her flashing that look.

“Okay, then. Me and Jisung will have—”

And her “Me and Jisung,” that was what made your stomach churn the most.

“Sorry, Jeongin.” You said, startling everyone, including the boy you addressed as you stood from the booth. “I’m not feeling very well. I have to go.”

“O-Okay. Feel better, Y/n.” Jeongin said, moving out of your way.

“Woah woah woah,” suddenly, Jisung was standing too, grabbing your arm before you could rush out the door. “Where are you going? You need to eat.”

For whatever reason, his words only infuriated you more, feeling your ears heat and muscles tense under his grip. Was that what it took to get his attention? You had to throw a fit before he gave you the time of day?

You ripped your arm from his hold, not even giving the table a second glance before spinning on your heel.

“Fuck off, Jisung.”

As you stormed off, throwing open the door and leaving with a huff, Jisung watched your retreating form with wide eyes. It was as if you had slapped him, mouth gaping and brows furrowed in confusion.

Felix sighed, suddenly feeling bad for pushing your buttons in that ordeal. “She’s tired.” He concluded, slouching in his seat.

“I’ll say…” Hyunae quipped.

And for whatever reason that was, Jisung really wanted to snap at her, to defend you and tell her to quit being a bitch. But his voice was lost as he looked down at her, only able to muster up a silent scoff as he sat back down. He didn’t even push away her hand when it reached for his.

What perfect timing to realize that he was afraid of his own girlfriend.

He was such an asshole.

Both your and Jisung’s thoughts were very similar at that moment.

And how you could go from leaning your head against Jisung’s warm shoulder to wanting to rip his head off was unbeknownst to you.

You had to leave in that moment, if you hadn’t you didn’t know what you would’ve said… or screamed. You were just so frustrated and so tired, convincing yourself that no, you did not want to cry in front of everyone who was enjoying their early bird special.

There was school, all your homework creating a permanent dent in your life filled with papers and essays and tests, and there was Minho there to nag at you and chase away any boy that gave you the time of day. They had always been in your life. But now there was Jisung and Chan, new emotions and problems to throw into the mix. With everything going on, it was difficult to keep up, and you actually missed the moments when it was just Minho there to tuck you under his arm and lecture you about boys.

In your thoughts, you never even noticed how you completely walked past the bus stop and had come up to a quiet playground on the edge of campus. How you had managed to walk that far, you didn’t know. Perhaps it was all the pent up stress that just had you zoning out and walking, or your body was subconsciously trying to get you kidnapped so you didn’t have to deal with your problems anymore.

You were feeling a bit better, so either way, it worked.

Finally, you found your legs carrying you to one of the swings, the black seat reminiscent of your childhood where you would always burn the backs of your legs in your hurry to get there before everyone else. That black rubber always got so damn hot.

With a small smile, you sat down, almost disappointed to feel the coolness against your jeans.

Your legs of course bent awkwardly under you, you weren’t a kid anymore unfortunately, and it was pretty strange to push off on something that you had forgotten entirely about but had thought so highly of before. Despite it being strange, it felt nice, and you were thankful that the wind was dying down as it was getting later in the day, the sun making its way towards the ground in front of you.

Rocking yourself in the swing you reached back for your phone. You wanted to apologize to Felix for storming off and probably worrying him, he was sort of your mother in that way. But you weren’t really ready to squeeze back into reality like that, so you called someone else.

“Y/n? What’s up?”

You felt your lips quirk up.

“Nothing much. What about you?”

The man on the other line hummed, the faint sound of typing just barely made out. “This song isn’t fitting together and I kind of want to scream, so I’m doing pretty good.”

“I think I’m doing pretty good then too.”

You rested your head against the chain of the swing.

“Did something happen?”

You made a sound that could be read similarly to “yes, but I think I’ll sound stupid if I tell you”, but it successfully pulled a laugh from him, so it was worth it.

“I don’t think you want to listen to my woes.”

“I always want to listen to your woes.”

His tone was joking, but his words were genuine, you could tell.

And finally, you were smiling, as difficult as it had been all day, you were able to while talking to him. There was no Jisung, no Hyunae, no judgment. You could talk to him without worrying, and you knew that for sure.

“And I want to throw up because of how cheesy that was.” You retorted, using the same joking tone he had spoken in.

There was the sound of shifting, and ruffles of fabric—as if he had just stood from his desk and fell back onto his bed.

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m already feeling bad about my song. Now tell me about your day so I can feel better about mine.”

You snorted, pushing yourself off on the swing once more.

“Okay, Chan. Whatever you say.”

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

Fourth Time's the Charm

Bill Weasley x Fleur Delacour

Prompts: The number 4

1) (word) Initiative

2) (colour) orange

3) (dialogue) “Take a chance. What harm can it do?”

Word Count: ~ 2.300

A/N: AU where Fleur meets Bill’s family before they get engaged.

____________________________________________

Bill Weasley had never been a superstitious man.

He had never listened to his mother’s old wives’ tales, nor cared for his father’s various ways of bringing about good luck. He had always smirked leniently when Charlie had gone through his pre-match rituals back at school and had long ago stopped questioning Ron’s doubtable fear of bad omens.

But today, everything was different.

Today, Bill had found himself jumping when Ginny had broken her glass at breakfast; his heart had skipped a beat when George had knocked over the salt shaker during lunch and he had felt the tips of his fingers tingle as he had subconsciously looked for any sign of the stray black cat visiting the Burrow from time to time.

He knew he was acting ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it; ever since waking up this morning to sunlight filtering into his old room and the silky hair of his girlfriend tickling his face, he had been out of his mind with nerves.

It was the first time he had taken Fleur to the Burrow to meet his family. Given, it wasn’t love at first sight for neither party involved and the atmosphere was a little more tense than what he was used to, but he could tell everyone was trying to get along; that wasn’t the problem.

No, what was actually making him nervous was the little red box he was carrying in the pocket of his trousers. Every time he moved and felt its corners against his leg, his mouth went dry and he had to fight the urge to panic.

Ever since he had met Fleur, when he had walked into her office at the Gringotts Headquarters, he had been sure she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Not because of her looks or her inherited Veela charm – although he couldn’t deny the appeal. No, what had won him over mere minutes into their first conversation was her personality.

He had never met a person more fierce and gentle, funny and witty. She was nothing like the perfect porcelain doll people made her out to be, an image she detested to the core of her being. Bill had felt it deep down back then, she was the one to complete him.

Bill had bought the ring he intended to give to her for ages ago, on his last work trip to Egypt. It wasn’t particularly elegant or fancy, but he thought Fleur would like it. Whenever he told her of his adventures, she hung onto his every word, his stories about ancient Egypt being her favourites. So when he had seen the delicate golden ring with a stylised lapis lazuli scarab on a bazaar in Cairo, he hadn’t thought twice. Haggling for an engagement ring had felt like weird thing to do and he had wondered if that was a good start for his endeavour, but he hadn’t wanted to be impolite.

Looking back now, he maybe should have trusted his initial instinct. He had been back in England for months now and it was almost time to leave again; the ring was still sitting in his small red box waiting to be presented, however.

And it was not like he was lacking enthusiasm to propose, quite the contrary.

The first time he had tried to ask Fleur the question of all questions, they had been at her favourite French restaurant. He had ordered champagne and the candles on their table had made her hair look like molten silver. It had been perfect, just until the couple on the table next to them had decided to break up very publicly and with a lot of thrown napkins, bitter curses and spilled wine.

The second time, Bill had cooked a three course meal for Fleur, giving it his all. He had taken care to prepare her favourite dishes the way her mother had explained it to him. They had just started on dessert and Bill had nervously fingered the box in his pocket when his family’s owl had crashed against the window so badly they had to rush and get him treated.

Bill had tried not to get discouraged by all his failed attempts. In the spirit of third time's the charm, he had taken great care and called some favours to make sure everything went right this time. A friend of his, who was skilled at weather charms, had promised to write his question into the sky for him; all he needed to do was show up with Fleur at the right place and time.

But she had come home from work late that day, tired, with a headache and in no mood to go anywhere. Desperate and nervous, Bill had urged her to come with him until she had snapped and they had had one of the worst fights Bill could remember.

No, Bill Weasley wasn’t a superstitious man; but seeing how many things went wrong already, he couldn’t help but feel on edge.

He had seen a lot of places over the course of his career; seeing how his attempts to propose to Fleur had gone so far, he couldn’t shake the thought that this would be his fourth attempt. Where three times was the charm, the prospect of number four made him uneasy.

Bill remembered his first work trip to Asia; the headquarters he had been supposed to get back to had been an inconspicuously looking building along the main street bearing the house number 4. He had been surprised to see that it wasn’t even enchanted to not be seen by Muggles until his colleague had explained to him why. There was no need to hide their headquarters because people wouldn’t even look at it for fear of something bad happening. The people believed that the number 4 was an ultimate omen of bad luck, the native word for it sounding almost the same as the word for ‘death’.

And right now, on the verge of attempt number four, Bill was dying more than a thousand deaths with every second the moment was drawing nearer.

He had chosen his timing carefully; his mother had gone into the village to run some errands, his father was off for work. Charlie and Percy had long since moved out and everyone else was busy playing Quidditch in the fields behind the Burrow. For once, the ramshackled house he grew up in was empty, save for themselves.

They were sitting under the huge tree in the corner of the garden where Bill and his siblings had played with the tire swing attached to a lower branch when they were children; the old treehouse reminiscent of his childhood was still sitting in the higher parts of the treetop. A slight breeze was blowing, making the leaves around the treehouse rustle unusually loud.

He had prepared a picnic for them but even the strawberries Bill had picked from the garden himself tasted like ash in his mouth as he mentally braced himself. He set his food aside and breathed in deeply.

It was time to take the initiative, once and for all. He would make sure there wouldn’t be a fifth time.

Leaning forward, he took Fleurs hand in his, sending a prayer to Merlin himself that she wouldn’t notice how sweaty his hand had become.

She looked at him in surprise. “What’s the matter? You are looking so serious.”

Despite his nervousness, a proud smile tugged at the corners of Bill’s mouth; her French accent had almost vanished since she had moved to England but the ‘s’ were still rolling from her perfect lips like a soft song, sending a shiver down his spine.

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to tell you how glad I am that you are here with me,” he started but trailed off again. He had prepared what he wanted to say beforehand, but all the sweet words were forgotten. “You know, this is my family, my family home. You and them getting along is so important to me, I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t. It would be a disaster, it… “

Bill noticed he was rambling and stopped. Judging by Fleur’s sceptically raised eyebrows, he wasn’t exactly manoeuvring himself into a good position.

He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts and tried again. “What I wanted to say is, they are the most important thing to me in the world; my family. But ever since I met you, things have started to change. All my life, my family was the first thing on my mind; but not anymore.”

Bill had shifted from his seating position onto his knees, fumbling with the box inside his pocket. The wind seemed to have picked up, the leaves above them rustling louder than ever.

“The first thing on my mind is you, and it has been you ever since we met.” His heart was pounding in his ears as he took the small red box out. “That’s why I wanted to ask you – “

His words were cut short by something colourful whizzing through the air from up above him. He just had time to see two identical mops of ginger hair vanish between the branches of the tree again, before the water balloon the twins had thrown exploded right in between them.

Fleur shrieked and jumped out of the way as the bright orange liquid washed over them – Bill shuddered at the thought of what it might be.

Slowly, he raised his eyes from his own stained hands to Fleur; his eyes widened in horror as she started cursing violently. Even now, the rapid succession of angry French words spilling out of her mouth sounded beautiful to him, but her face was like thunder. The liquid had stained her silvery hair an orange colour almost the same as his own and Fleur’s tirade only intensified as she inspected the ends of it.

Bill’s heart sank at the sight and he felt a rush of burning anger at his little brothers for ruining his moment. Apparently, the fourth time was as unlucky as it was made out to be.

Discouraged, Bill hung his head. He wasn’t sure if Fleur had already seen the box before they had gotten pranked. Cursing Fred and George under his breath, he tried shielding it from her eyes with the back of his hand. But of course, she noticed the sudden change in his demeanour.

The crease between her brows softened as she reached for his hand. “I’m surprised you’re cursing them so much. This is new for me, but I thought you would be used to this.”

He shook his head. “Because they always have to ruin everything.”

Fleur’s nose wrinkled as she glanced down at her ruined hair and blouse again. “It’s a horrible prank. Just look at us, we’re looking ghastly. But I’m sure they didn’t mean bad.”

Bill sighed; he knew she was upset but was trying to make him feel better anyway. “They never do. But still, if I get my hands on them, I could kill them.”

Fleur shook her head, orange stained hair falling into her face. “No you couldn’t. You love your family just the way you love everything, with all of your heart.”

She smiled at him, the warmth in it making Bill’s heart flutter. “That’s what makes you so special.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “So you’re not mad?”

Fleur tossed her hair over her shoulder, a flicker of dismay crossing her face. “A bit; look at my hair, it’s looking just the same as yours now. But they’re your family. If I want to love you for the rest of my life, I will learn to love them, too.”

She intertwined her fingers with his and got up, pulling him along with her. “Because that is what I want to do; loving you for the rest of my life, as a part of your family. If you want that too, that is.”

Bill couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had always known Fleur to be brave, but he would never have figured her to be brave enough to take the initiative from him on herself.

He cleared his throat. “Are you really sure this is what you want? There is no me without this madness.” To drive his point home, he rubbed a smudge of orange from her cheek with his thumb. She chuckled at the sensation.

“This madness made the man that I love; how could I not want that?”

She took a step away from him and tilted her head to the side. “So, I think there’s something you wanted to ask me?”

Bill blinked incredulously. “You still want me to? Even though we’re all orange?”

Fleur’s laugh was like music to his ears. “Even though we’re all orange. Take a chance. What harm can it do?”

And just like that, looking at her smiling at him, his nervousness ceased. He felt completely calm, nothing but certainty left inside his heart.

He let go of Fleur’s hand and got down to one knee, both of them already smiling so widely it hurt his cheeks as he reproduced the now spattered red box again.

“Fleur Isabelle Delacour, do you want to give me the honour of becoming my wife, no matter how insane the ride will get?”

With a laugh bordering on a sob, Fleur sank to her knees next to him, showering his face in kisses, muttering “Yes!” over and over again.

Bill slipped the scarab ring onto her finger, the blue stone shining in the sunlight. He pulled his fiancée into a tight embrace, his face buried in her orange hair. Breathing in the lavender scent of her perfume, Bill felt a happiness wash over him greater than anything he could ever have imagined.

Maybe the old superstition was wrong after all.

Apparently, fourth time’s the charm.

#bill weasley #fleur delacour #bill x fleur #harry potter fanfiction

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

On the Mend. Part 2

Harry Potter AU

Link to Part 1

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader. Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Rating: M- later chapters

Song in Chapter: The Night We Met by Lord Huron

______

I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I've been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself What the hell I'm supposed to do And then I can tell myself Not to ride along with you

I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you Take me back to the night we met

Walking into the house, you immediately smelled Regulus’ cologne. You fought the urge to turn and run out of the house. It didn’t matter how much your heart was screaming to run to the man and never let him go. You had to think with your head this time. Renee deserved that much. She didn’t deserve to be torn between two parents. The child also didn’t need to see Regulus hurt you over and over again.

Your mind was also on Ambrosia Parkinson...Black...whatever her last name was now. What if she and Regulus repaired their relationship? Would she be unkind to Renee? What if she wasn’t? The 13-month-old wouldn’t be able to tell you if her stepmother was cruel. Would Regulus even pay enough attention to notice anything strange? Something told you, no.

The better question was how would Ambrosia handle the news that Regulus had a child with another woman? You smirked at the thought of the whole Black family having a major hissy fit because Regulus royally fucked up. Regulus went and knocked up the “Potter girl.” You could see Walburga’s scowl in your mind. The horrible woman would either be on the floor screaming or burning Regulus’ name off of the family tapestry. What a scandal that would be! Sirius was already gone, now her youngest “good” son had sunk to a whole new level of low.

Regulus was lucky that James wasn’t alive right now. Your older brother would have probably tried to kill him by now. James would definitely not sit back and leave it to his best friends to help raise Renee. He would have gone to Grimmauld Place and hexed Regulus until he left Ambrosia to take care of his responsibility.

You had to shake the thoughts of James from your mind. If you wanted to face Regulus and not be sobbing you had to stop thinking of your brother. Regulus didn’t deserve you taking that wrath out on him. He didn’t have anything to do with James or Lily’s deaths.

The hallway to the sitting room was dark. You took a few deep breaths before stepping in. Both Regulus and Remus immediately stood when you walked in. Regulus was paler than you remembered as he opened his mouth to speak a few times but nothing came out. He was still the same handsome boy that you loved so much.

Your attention went to Remus, who was nervously looking between the two of you.

“Remus, we have insurance on this place...right?”

Remus nodded, slightly confused.

“Yes. Why?”

You reached over for the vase that was sitting on the table beside you. Right away you started throwing whatever you could get your hands on at Regulus. Whether it be the shock of you coming after him so violently or something else, Regulus didn’t move quick enough and was pelted by several objects. Finally, he resumed his quick seeker’s reflexes and started smacking stuff away from him as you tossed it.

Remus jumped back, not about to get hit before yelling for Sirius. By the time Sirius put the baby in her playpen and ran into the living room, you had your wand out and was hurling hexes at Regulus. Sirius blinked a few times as Regulus quickly dodged whatever you threw his way.

“A little help here?”

Regulus snapped toward his brother, who shrugged.

“She’s being a lot nicer than I would be.”

Sirius wasn’t about to step in on this one. In his mind, you deserved the right to do whatever you wanted. Remus, meanwhile, quickly wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Think about Renee. I know that you are hurt and angry but this is her father. Please...this is not you Y/n.”

He whispered in your ear. Remus kept his voice low enough so that only you would hear. You trembled a few times before lowering your wand and putting it in Remus’ outstretched hand. Remus gave you a gentle smile before turning to the wrecked living room.

Regulus meanwhile, looked slightly scared as you turned to face him. He expected you to be hostile but he didn’t expect to get attacked. This behavior wasn’t you. Regulus decided that he had himself to blame for this extreme change in character and he hated it!

You were still the beautiful girl that he had fallen in love with during 6th year. Everything about you was the same. You still had those hazel eyes that could change shades by your mood. There were those full lips that were screaming to be kissed. Everything about you was what Regulus wanted and needed. Only now he was afraid that you would never accept what he had to offer...which wasn’t much.

“What are you doing here?”

You asked, coldly. Regulus regained his calm composure. Moments before he was close to panicking himself. There was no way that he had control of what you had just done to him but maybe if he could just speak...

“I needed to talk to you.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“There are letters and telephones. Both of those work nicely.”

“And you would ignore me.”

Regulus replied. You shrugged.

“Most likely. It would be your own fault. When will you learn foolish boy that if you play stupid games you will win stupid prizes?”

Sirius leaned back and held a hand up.

“She’s got a point.”

Regulus glared at his older brother.

“I didn’t come to talk to you.”

Sirius smirked as you turned back to Regulus.

“You should go home to your wife and be a good husband. I have nothing to offer you.”

You actually had a lot to offer him and both of you knew it. After some time of healing, you could open your heart to him again and love him as you did. There wouldn't have to be any more hiding in the shadows to kiss your lover. You could kiss and hold him as you so desperately wanted to.

He left you! He left you for some pureblood princess who his FAMILY found acceptable. It didn’t matter then that you are a pureblood and it won’t now. Regulus didn’t stand up for your love then why would he now? Don’t let him hurt you again!

Your mind hissed.

It didn’t take Regulus knowing everything about you to know that you were giving yourself some little pep talk that was geared against him. If he could just gain control of this conversation….

“You actually have a lot to offer me. I’m not married to Ambrosia anymore.”

“That’s a pity.”

You muttered before turning and taking the glass of water that Remus was holding out to you.

You actually have a lot to offer me.

You internally snorted at the thought. The only thing that you had to offer him was the heir that sat in the other room happily playing with her blocks. Hell would freeze over before you let the Black family sink their claws into your precious little girl.

Regulus only blinked. He expected your sarcasm to be thrown his way.

“Not really. I didn’t want her anyway.”

You turned.

“Where was that attitude before? I’m sure your mummy is having a fit about her little splendid plan falling apart.”

Regulus frowned.

“I didn’t come to talk about my parents.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want from me, Regulus. You made your feelings quite clear. I loved you. Now you're just a page torn from the story that I’m living.”

Remus, meanwhile, motioned Sirius out of the room. This conversation was becoming a bit more personal than he cared to witness.

Regulus waited until they were out of the room before stepping closer to you.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. You didn’t deserve to suffer because I didn’t want to upset my parents. If I could go back and do things differently...it would have been you that I married...not her. I love you. I never loved her as I love you. Why the hell do you think that she left me? Ambrosia is a lot of things. Stupid isn’t one of them.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“She knows that you love me...me specifically and not some other girl?”

Regulus nodded. He didn’t let his eyes leave yours.

“Yes. I told her.”

When you started laughing, Regulus felt a bit confused. What was funny about this whole situation? There was nothing funny! Regulus missed the birth of his daughter and broke your heart for no reason yet here you were laughing.

“What’s funny about this?”

He snapped. You had to swallow back another fit of giggles as you turned to see Remus and Sirius watching you looking as baffled as Regulus. Sirius leaned over to Remus and muttered “when a woman starts laughing at you over something stupid that you did that is how you know how fucked you are.” You made a mental note to congratulate him on that comment later before turning back to Regulus.

“What’s funny is all of this bullshit could have been avoided if you would have been a man and stood up to your parents. We wouldn’t have had to go through anything that we would have. Ambrosia wouldn’t be out there wondering what the fuck she did wrong. I must really be crazy because I am sticking up for her ass. By the way, you married a woman named after some kind of fruit salad. At least my name makes sense.”

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl.

“Are you done?”

You shook your head. Hell no, you had enough material to make the poor guy listen to for hours. Regulus wasn’t with you when you were going through your own personal hell. He wasn’t there when you had to put your brother and best friend in the ground. When you lost custody of your nephew to a couple of muggle shitheads or when you were in labor for 20+ hours with Regulus’ child. That was Sirius and Remus there. They went through that whole ordeal with you! It was Sirius who did what Regulus was supposed to do when a child was born. Sirius and Remus were the ones walking the floors comforting a colicky Renee at three am when you were so frazzled that you wanted to cry yourself. The keywords here were Sirius and Remus, not Regulus.

“I have a lot of material. You should stick around.”

You replied with a smirk before sitting down on the couch. Regulus was silent for a few moments as he tried to get himself in check. Finally, he couldn’t stand it or remain calm any longer. Expressing his emotions was hard enough but at the moment he wasn’t feeling too shy either.

“Merlin, I fucked up! Fucked up big! What else can I say, Y/n?! I want to be a part of yours and Renee’s life. What about our child? I deserve to be in her life too...if I would have known before I would have been there. As you said, there are telephones and letters. I didn’t get anything that I deserved to get.”

The guilt began to fill your senses again.

“You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me. You had your wife and that is where your heart was.”

“I just told you that I didn’t love her. That would have been all the more of a reason for me to walk away.”

Your eyes dropped to his feet.

“You still wouldn’t have left.”

Regulus waited a moment before closing the distance between you. His fingers tilted your face to his.

“I’m here now.”

You stared into his eyes...those beautiful grey-blue eyes that you loved so much.

“Please, love. I’m not going anywhere ever again. You want the lover that you were supposed to have..the father that our daughter should have had from the beginning...I’m right here.”

You put your hand on top of his. Feeling his skin against yours felt more heavenly than you wanted to admit. Regulus’ hand was trembling beneath yours as you pulled away.

“I can’t trust you yet.”

“I’m not a death eater anymore. If that’s what you're scared of too…”

You didn’t turn to face him again.

“I’m not afraid of you being a death eater. I’ve dealt with that since we were 16. I’m afraid of having my heart broken again. That is what I am afraid of.”

You walked out of the room. At the moment, you needed to get some air and fast!

Sirius waited until he heard the front door close before leaning down and scooping Renee up. He smiled down at his little niece.

“Time for you to shine, sweetheart.”

Regulus was still staring at the place where you had been standing when Sirius walked back into the sitting room. The younger brother’s eyes weren’t blinking as he fought the urge to cry. He thought for a brief moment that you would let him kiss you. If he could give you just one kiss...just show you the passion that he still felt...maybe things would be alright? Now he didn’t know where he stood or if you would ever let him back into your life again. As you said, he was just a page torn from the story that you were living.

“You’ll have to give her some time. The last little bit hasn’t been too kind to any of us. We are all afraid to open up to anyone right now.”

Regulus’ head snapped up at his brother’s voice. He froze seeing the little girl in Sirius’ arms. Regulus would have recognized this baby as his from anywhere. She was everything that Regulus could have ever dreamed about.

Sirius smiled down at her.

“She has your eyes and Y/n’s sweet personality...most of the time. You both have dark hair so take that how you want it. Renee, want to say hi to your daddy?”

The little girl looked between her uncle and father before shoving her face in Sirius’ neck. Sirius’ smile faded when Regulus looked down. It didn’t take Sirius being Regulus’ brother to know that the other man was questioning every choice that he had ever made in his life.

“She’s a bit shy at first. Once she warms up to you, you aren’t going to have another quiet moment in your life. She’s finally starting to talk and we are still working on the walking thing. She doesn’t have much desire to learn when someone is always willing to pick her up.”

Renee had slowly turned her attention back to Regulus with a little sly smile.

“See what I mean?”

Sirius said with a smile. He turned his attention to the little stuffed lamb that was laying on the couch.

“Get that toy and bend down.”

Regulus quickly did as he was told as Sirius stepped within arm's length of his brother and knelt down. Sirius gently turned Renee around.

“Sugar, why don’t you go tell your daddy hi and get your little toy?”

Renee focused her attention on Regulus as he held a hand out. She watched him for a few moments before wrapping her hand around his fingers and taking a few shaky steps. Sirius smiled as she made contact with Regulus’ chest. Regulus gently adjusted the baby in his arms before slipping the stuffed lamb into her hands.

“Daddy.”

Renee said with a smile. Regulus leaned down and snuggled his face against her head. Dark curls tickled his nose as the scent of your perfume mixed with baby lotion filled his senses. This was the scent that Regulus didn’t want to forget as long as he lived.

Sirius, meanwhile, sat down with a smile on his face.

“Regulus, I normally wouldn’t say this in front of the baby but if you plan on lea…”

“I’m not leaving.”

Regulus replied, firmly.

“I can’t...not now. I need to talk to Y/n.”

Sirius smiled, sadly. After the last conversation that the two of you shared, it would probably be a good idea for Regulus to wait for you to go to him. Sirius had politely put the sitting room back in order and really didn’t want to risk it being destroyed again. It would only take one good hex or heavy object to really bruise Regulus up.

“Give her some time, Reg. She needs it.”

Regulus nodded before looking back down to his daughter. Her attention was still glued to the stuffed animal that she was now chewing on. He stroked his finger over Renee's cheek with a soft smile. If he had to wait for you it would be worth it. Patience wasn’t something that Regulus didn’t have much of but maybe it was time to develop a new skill.

_____

@fairywriter-oracle

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book-obsessed-coward · 3 years

Text

Pt. 2 of my last Head Canon because I couldn’t fit it all into one post, but first, take this smol emotional support Sapphire Trio:

Both Sybill & Gilderoy, who were well aware of what just happened, immediately stopped to rush back in an attempt to help him, but were soon met by the now very, very aggravated Troll. Sybill had completely dropped her defensive attitude towards Gilderoy out of fear by now & instead of using the opportunity to yell at him some more, she simply held her arm out to stop him from doing anything stupid before raising her wand. However, no spells were needed, for the second Quiri came to the realization that the Troll was gonna stomp his brains out, he instinctively held up his hand & cried out for it to “STOP!” & much to his surprise, it did. They watched as it stumbled backwards a few paces & stood there utterly dumbfounded as he got back to his feet, still shaking violently. Sybill nearly dropped her wand & barely even noticed Gilderoy clinging to her like a coward, clearly in need of a moment to fully register everything that had just happened right before her eyes. Quiri of all people, had just managed to subdue a full grown, & not to mention, extremely irritated Troll! All on his own! Without magic! What? Why? How? Sybill’s confusion spiraled out of control as they steadily returned to their senses, Quiri insisting that they walk the dangerous creature back to the farthest edge of the Forest whilst it was still under his unexplained control. But of course, not a single one of her many questions could be answered just yet, for a flock of clearly flustered staff members had been waiting to greet them upon their return(the Troll now sitting a good distance away from the castle thanks to Quiri). By now I’m sure you’re all coming to realize the similarities between the Golden Trio’s “bathroom Troll” incident & these three’s currently being explained situation, which is good because it’s about to get a whole lot more similar: “It’s my fault professors.” Merlin’s beard, what’s this? Sybill of all people, taking the blame for one of Gilderoy’s greatest mishaps yet? Impossible! But nonetheless, it was true: “I had foresaw a prophecy of the Troll getting defeated tonight & thought I’d be the one to slay it.” Says she while sharing a knowing glance with both Gilderoy & Quirinus. “If they hadn’t followed me here, I’d probably be dead.” In the end, twenty whole points had been deducted from Ravenclaw house for “Sybill’s stupidity & serious lack of judgement” , but with that small loss came a much bigger prize: new found friendship. Thus forming our infamous Sapphire Trio.

-Fin-

Now I’m a huge Steven Universe fanatic, & upon relistening to some of the many amazing songs featured within the show, I couldn’t help but get a little inspired by SU’s lyrics, accompanied, of course, by my infatuation with HP. Here’s what I’ve got brainstormed so far:

-Quirrell redemption AU where him & Ginny are singing Here Comes A Thought, because HE’D BE THE PERFECT MENTOR CHARACTER FOR HER. They both fell victim to Voldemort’s manipulation & were basically forced to do terrible things in his favor, & for sure, they both need emotional healing from the horrid experiences they’ve been dealt. So I don’t know about you, but this entire song just perfectly captures that “mentor taking the time necessary to help their student heal from a traumatic experience that they too have experienced” type feel- & I am here for it!

-Lil Sybill & Quiri singing The Jam Song, but about tea or something- Oh don’t look at me like that! I just thought it’d be cute, okay!?-

-Snape singing It’s Over Isn’t It after hours, alone in his office. Just give the song a listen, you’ll see what I mean.

-Lockhart singing Haven’t You Noticed(I’m A Star). There really isn’t an explanation needed here.

-AVPM Quiri & Voldy singing Peace & Love On The Planet Earth. Because I live for non canon Quirrelmort(canon Quirrelmort is practically the equivalent of a toxic relationship between a parasite & it’s suffering host, & I don’t see how anyone can actively ship something along those lines. Thank Merlin we have Starkid & their shenanigans to make things a little more wholesome between these two)-

Sooo yeah! Just thought I’d share those lil ideas with you guys & maybe even introduce the art of Steven Universe to those of you who have yet to witness it at full potential. It’s truly a beautiful series & one of, if not my most, favorite shows. The messages expressed are realistic & relatable, the characters featured are diverse & dynamic, & all in all, I’m sure you’d be happily surprised to find that there’s quite a few similarities between it & the Wizarding World Of Harry Potter. Definitely recommend.

Progress shot:

#harry potter #quirinus quirrell #gilderoy lockhart #sybill trelawney #follow up post #pt 2 #Basket Case/Bronze Trio #Sapphire Trio #head canon #my art #flipaclip #thank you #<3

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cakesunflower · 4 years

Text

Who’s Gonna Love You Like Me? [Brother’s Best Friend!Calum AU] Part 9

i know the last part left off on a cliffhanger so like.....i’m sorry about the ending of this one whoops

It had been two days, and Luke hadn’t spoken to her.

Josie hated how nauseous his silence made her, but she wasn’t surprised. Or, maybe, she was. Truth be told, she had kind of expected roaring anger, some yelling, a whole lot of glares. At this point, she couldn’t help but think any of that wouldn’t be better than absolutely nothing. Because that’s all she and Calum had received from her brother. Nothing.

Maybe he was still processing the revelation of her and Calum’s relationship, still adjusting to the idea before properly reacting. But Josie had the anxious feeling that Luke had processed it already and was punishing them with the lack of reaction. They’d withheld the truth from him, he was withholding the true extent of whatever he was feeling by completely ignoring them. He ignored Calum easily, given that he had moved back into his place just days before the truth came out, but no matter how difficult Josie made it for Luke, he still managed to stay firm in his silence. He left for work far earlier than she did, and played deaf to her greetings when she stayed downstairs to catch him entering the house. Because despite the nerves and guilt, Josie still wanted her brother to speak to her.

Honestly, Luke was the most talkative person she knew. She was kind of selfishly hoping this was killing him as much as it was killing her.

When Josie got home from work, she shut the car door with a sigh, hearing it lock behind her as she made her way towards the front door. She paused, however, when she heard a car behind her, turning to watch Luke pull into the driveway as well. Her heart gave a nervous jump as she stopped, not wanting to miss another opportunity at an attempt to get him to talk to her. Reasonably, Josie knew she should give Luke space, let him talk to her when he was ready, but like Calum had said—she was impatient. Not talking to Luke wasn’t something Josie knew how to do; the thought of her closeness with Luke being in trouble, and it being her fault, damn near made her nauseous. She needed to fix this soon.

She couldn’t keep the hopeful expression off her face as Luke got out of his car, expression carefully neutral as he walked up the path towards the door, expertly keeping his gaze past her. “Hey, Luke,” Josie greeted softly, eagerly, as he neared her. Luke didn’t even glance at her as he kept walking, Josie’s gaze trailing after him briefly before she followed him. A small huff escaped her as he unlocked the front door. “Come on, Luke. You can’t keep giving me the silent treatment forever,” she begged as she shut the door behind her.

He only disturbed the silence by dropping his keys on the table behind the couch, the sharp clinking sound disrupting the silence of the house. Josie kept her gaze on his back, his broad shoulders rigid, and her stomach churned as the impatience won out and she blurted, “Luke, this isn’t fair.”

She knew that had been the wrong, and stupid, thing to say the moment those words escaped her mouth.

Her brother spun around, sharp blue eyes clashing with her own, and for the first time in days, Josie saw something other than blankness on Luke’s face. He wore a scowl openly, looking at her in a mixture of incredulity, anger, and irritation that Josie had never been on the receiving end of. It was enough to expel the air from her lungs as her brother narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you seriously going to talk to me about what’s fair?” he demanded, voice deepening as he cocked his head to the side. “Tell me, Josie—how is it fair that you know how I feel about you dating any of my friends, and still you went behind my back and got with one of my best friends? How is it fair that both of you took my trust and decided to shit on it without even considering how I’d feel about it?”

Throat dry, Josie parted her lips, feeling her lower one tremble as she gave a shake of her head. “That isn’t—that’s not true, Luke.” She hated that even her voice was unsteady in the face of his anger. “We did consider your feelings—we do—but—”

“But they weren’t important enough for you two to stop what you were doing,” Luke cut in with a scoff, a humorless smile tilting his lips that looked so wrong on his face. Josie’s chest tightened as he gave a shake of his head, like he was saying he should’ve known better. “What the fuck are you even doing, Josie?” Luke asked, his glare once again settled on her. “All of your relationships have gone to shit—you really think this is gonna last with Calum? I don’t even remember the last time he had a girlfriend. What makes you think this is gonna work out?”

Josie gaped at him, his slicing words stinging as she felt her heart stutter. His scowl, the condescending way he’d uttered those hurtful words—it made her eyes burn with fresh tears, a weight sinking in her stomach. Was that really what he thought of her? Of Calum? That they both just sucked at keeping a steady relationship, and that it would eventually ruin them, too? Did he truly think she was incapable of loving someone, incapable of being loved by someone else? Did he believe that or was he just spitting words out of the betrayed anger he’d been festering in for days?

No matter the reason, it still hurt. Blindingly so.

Something flashed in Luke’s eyes as he took in Josie’s expression, and she would’ve labeled it as regret, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. His jaw clenched, lips twitching in aggravation as he ran his fingers through his blonde curls, a frustrated huff of, “Fuck. Whatever,” escaping him before he turned swiftly and walked away.

Josie couldn’t quite breathe—not in this house, at least. So with her keys clenched tightly in her hand, the metal biting into her skin, she turned and walked right out the door towards her car. It wasn’t until she was in the driver’s seat where she let the tears fall.

*****

“I think he hates us, Cal.”

She felt her boyfriend take in a breath, his heart ever so steady under her ear as she laid on her chest, finding comfort in his arms wound around her. Luke’s words replayed in her head like an incessant, terrible song on her drive to Calum’s apartment, making it awfully easy for her to recount what he had said to Calum—who’d been startled to see her at his doorstep with tear stained cheeks and red eyes. But there was no one else she had wanted to see, and Calum was intimately familiar with what she was dealing with.

“Nah, I don’t think so, sweetheart,” Calum murmured, his velvety smooth voice relaxing her as much as his embrace did. They were seated on his couch, the TV playing The Office at a low volume, with Calum’s back to the armrest and Josie’s back to his chest. “He just needs some more time, you know? We kept something big from him, so we need to just wait for him to process his anger and hurt.”

Josie wished she was as calm, as reasonable, as Calum was. Her throat worked, absently watching the TV. “You didn’t see his face,” she said, her voice a quiet murmur, eyebrows drawing together slightly.

She felt his lips press to the top of her head. “I did the day he found out,” Calum said, a slow breath escaping him. “I think I’d have preferred it if he punched me in the face instead of walking away.”

Her hand had been resting on his arm, and Josie gave it a squeeze before saying, “Don’t say that.” God knows what she would’ve done if things had gotten violent between her brother and boyfriend. Her already distressed state would’ve been ten times worse. She chews on her lower lip, brain going into overdrive. Squeezing her eyes shut, Josie muttered, “I hope things between you two go back to normal.”

There was a heaviness in her chest at the mere idea of Luke and Calum’s friendship being fractured because of her and Calum’s relationship, and she desperately hoped any damage done wasn’t permanent. Calum may have faith that things would work out, but the anger in Luke’s eyes seemed to be engrained in Josie’s mind, tightening her grip on Calum’s had subconsciously as she tried to erase the image from her head.

Noticing the tension that suddenly tightened Josie’s body, Calum frowned as he tucked his chin in to look down at her. “Josie?” She let out a breath. “Hey, things will be fine, alright? We just gotta let him cool down.”

“But—” Josie took in a deep breath as she shifted in Calum’s arms, moving herself so she was facing him. Her right hand braced itself on the top of the couch, left hand on Calum’s shoulders as her green eyes met is brown. He watched her, his attention focused solely on Josie, and let out a breath that was unsteady thanks to the guilt that twisted at her gut. Worry over her own relationship with Luke tightened her chest, but the thought of his relationship with Calum being unstable made her damn near nauseous. The feel of his arms loosely wrapped around her hips kept Josie anchored, allowed her to focus on what she wanted to say rather than get tripped up on her words. “What if we fucked things up, Calum? What if Luke just, like, can’t look past this and it ends up ruining your friendship with him? I mean, he’s gonna have to talk to me eventually—Mom will make sure of it. But if this permanently screwed up your friendship with him then I don’t think I could forgive myself.”

“Jos, wait a second,” Calum quickly cut in, eyebrows furrowing together as he looked at her. He looked unsettled by her words, giving a shake of her head as he sat up as much as he could. “Whatever happens to Luke and me—none of it would be your fault, okay?” He gave her a squeeze. “Luke and I are grown ass men. We’ll figure it out for ourselves. I know things are shitty right now but don’t stress over it, yeah? Things will work out.”

She kept her eyes locked with his, and the knot in her chest loosened a bit when she read the encouragement in his brown eyes. A small smile curled at his lips as he kept his gaze trained on her. Calum’s words, coupled with his smooth, unwavering voice, easily released some of the tension trapped in Josie’s body, and she let out a breath while watching her gaze drop to his collarbone. Her fingers played with a purposeful hole near the neckline of his shirt; although she felt a bit more relaxed that before, worries still plagued her. She couldn’t help but think resolving the situation wouldn’t be as easy as Calum was making it out to be.

Before she could help it, Josie’s voice quietened as she asked, “Do you regret it? Being with me?”

“No.”

His answer was immediate, no sense of hesitation, and it snapped Josie’s gaze back up to meet Calum’s. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as the air rushed out of her lungs. He hadn’t even taken a moment to think about his answer. When she took in his face, Josie’s heart jumped when she saw the serious expression he wore while also, frankly, looking a bit insulted that she would even ask the question she did. His lips were flat and his gaze sharp, though not unkind, and Josie parted her lips to respond. Then she pressed them together again.

Finally, she parted them once more, but only managed to get out a squeaking, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” This time Calum rolled his eyes. He then moved his legs, which Josie was sitting between, to close in on her and she shifted to full face him legs crossed. His hands found her face, thumbs rubbing at the soft skin of her cheeks, and he so effortlessly robbed her of her breath. How could he be so sure? “My relationship with you and my friendship with Luke are both really important to me and, trust me, I’m hoping he and I can work things out quickly. But my messy situation with Luke doesn’t make me any less grateful to be with you, pretty girl.” A ghost of a smirk came across his lips. “I don’t like having any regrets, and I damn well don’t regret being with you. He’s my best friend and you’re my best girl—I’m a selfish bastard, so I’ll figure out a way to have both.”

Her heart leaped, twirled, did a somersault—it was overwhelmed by the power Calum’s words had on it. He looked as sure of his words as he sounded. “You’re pretty confident about that, aren’t you?” Josie asked, though her voice came out more as a whisper. Calum had the habit of leaving her speechless.

“Yup,” Calum responded, grinning widely and brightly, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips. Josie leaned in, letting out a soft groan when he ended the kiss too quickly for her liking. Calum let out a chuckle before asking, “D’you wanna spend the night here?”

Josie opened her eyes, melting under his soft gaze. Calum’s words had eased her mind, no doubt, and although the worry and guilt were still fluttering around in her head, the last thing she wanted to do was.go home and be alone with her thoughts. She’d overthink herself into a pit of despair. Spending the night with him was far better. “Yeah.”

*****

When Calum walked out of the gym and headed towards the parking lot, pulling out his car keys, he hadn’t expected to run into Luke. He slowed down his pace as soon as he caught sight of the blonde heading towards him, teeth pressing together when Luke took a look at him before flashing his gaze straight ahead, past him, with no desire to stop and talk to him. So when Luke walked past him, Calum pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and let out a disbelieving scoff.

He knew he should give Luke space, let him come around on his own terms. Hell, it’s what he told Josie, but Calum was losing his patience. It had been nearly a week since Luke found out about their relationship, and Calum absolutely hated seeing Josie so upset over Luke ignoring her. It hurt him, too, that his best friend refused to talk to him. Calum and Josie knew the probability of this happening when Luke found out was high, but knowing it could happen was different than it actually happening. Calum wanted them to be past this. He wanted Luke to be okay with the two of them being together because he was important to both of them.

When Calum had told Josie he didn’t regret being with her, despite Luke’s anger, he had been telling the truth. It still was the truth. But it would be a lie to say that he was fine with Luke never speaking to him again—no, that would be far from the truth. The blonde had been his best friend for most of his life. Calum was not about to let go of that friendship so easily.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t starting to get pissed off.

“You’re just gonna walk past like you don’t even know me?” Calum demanded, turning around so his gaze rested on Luke’s back. “You’re being ridiculous, Luke.”

That got him to stop. Luke turned around, eyebrows pulled together as his blue eyes met Calum’s brown. “No—I think what’s ridiculous is that I trusted you around my sister and you didn’t think twice about throwing that back in my face.”

Calum suppressed a frustrated scoff. His body was still hot from his workout, trying to blow off steam that had accumulated because of this very situation. Now facing off Luke was only serving to heat him up once more. “Man, you think it was easy keeping this from you? We were constantly worrying about it—”

“Because you knew you were doing something wrong!”

“Because we had a feeling you’d react like this,” Calum corrected firmly, not for one second wanting to give Luke the allusion that Calum thought his relationship with Josie was wrong. He knew that he and Josie were in the wrong for breaking Luke’s trust the way they did, because they never wanted to hurt him, but they couldn’t ignore what their hearts wanted—no matter how terribly cliché it all sounded. Calum’s jaw worked, letting out a slow breath through his nose. “We hate that we broke your trust. And we’re sorry for it. But Josie and I—we really like each other, man. We make each other happy. As my friend—as her brother—doesn’t that mean something to you?”

He watched as Luke remained silent, a storm in the blue of his eyes, darkened by the anger he felt towards Calum—who quietly hoped he’d gotten through to him at least a little. Luke didn’t have to accept his apology right on the spot, but any indication that he would consider it would be okay with Calum. Though, frankly, he really did want Luke to talk to Josie again. She was all but going into a tailspin at the silent treatment.

“She doesn’t have a good track record with relationships,” Luke finally said, his voice steady but controlled. His expression gave nothing away as he spoke. “You know that—I told you. And you—” Luke scoffed with a shake of his head, and Calum’s eyebrows knitted together slightly as he waited, unsure of where Luke was going with this. “I can’t even remember the last time you’ve been in a relationship. So you being with my sister means one of two things: either you really do like her enough to want to be in one. Or,” his jaw tightened, a subtle glare settling on his features, “it’s only a matter of time until you end up hurting her, too. When it comes down to it, I’m going to pick Josie’s side no matter what. So the two of you being in a relationship where a number of things can go wrong? I’ll choose her side—which would mean turning my back to you.”

Calum’s stomach twisted. “Luke—”

“You being with my sister increases the chances of me potentially losing one of my best friends and that—” Luke looked more hurt than he did angry, and Calum realized that was infinitely worse. “That makes you two some of the most selfish people I’ve met.”

tags: @irwinkitten @loveroflrh @meetashthere @astroashtonio @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr

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abluescarfonwaston · 4 years

Text

Shapeshifter Au - 13

Masterpost

“Alright. Bags unpacked. Roach settled. Dinner made and eaten. Ciri in bed. And now the bath’s ready.” Geralt turned to where he lounged on the bed. “You’ve managed to avoid doing any work today, lazy cat.”

He stood and stretched his back up into the air and moved to the edge bumping into Geralt’s hands who just stood there. Being grumpy.

He picked up the purring and insistent head-butting until Geralt’s hands relaxed from their tight fists, tickling at his neck.

“Before the water cools?” Geralt plead, kneeling next to the bed so he could nuzzle his face. Using the scruff of his chin to work free some loose fur. “Please.”

He rubbed their stubble together. Fingers kneading Geralt’s loose tunic.

“I didn’t,” His tongue tripped around the sounds as it remembered how to form words. Geralt sighed into him. Leaning in. Wrapping his arms around his waist. “Mean to wait so long.”

Geralt hummed burying his nose in the crook of his shoulder. Squeezing him closer.

“I was just really tired at first and then,” He paused, enjoying the press of Geralt’s lips to his neck. “I shifted into the wolf for Ciri because she was so upset and scared and I wanted her to trust me. And I. Pulled something?”

“I felt it.” Geralt’s hand slipped under his shirt. Running up his spine before settling on the expansion of his ribs. “I thought you were dying. It hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to hurt him too. He didn’t mention the way whatever he’d done still ached. It was only after a few shifts or near the end of the day now. It was fine. There were better things to complain about. Things that wouldn't make Geralt sad or worried needlessly. “And then she almost trusted me and I didn’t want to ruin it by looking like this.”

The hand that wasn’t exploring the expanse of his back brushed though his hair and snagged on a matt, proving his point.

“I missed you.” Geralt whispered, only loud enough to hear because his nose was tucked into the curve of his ear. “You’re so much more annoying this way.”

He shoved Geralt back. “Alright then. Let’s use that water before it gets cold shall we? Since you clearly have no more interest in cuddling me.”

“I didn’t say-“

“Oh no you made that perfectly clear. So much more annoying hmm?” He shoved off him and began stripping on the way to the tub. “My most annoying form if I remember your words correctly.” He glanced back at Geralt as he slipped from his trousers. Still sitting on the bed.

He looked much too concerned about this.

He smiled reassuringly, “How quickly you forget the ferret,” And jumped in the bath.

He groaned spreading out in the Witcher sized bath. Letting the heat seep the weariness from his bones.

He let his head roll to the side watching Geralt as he sat on the bed. Watching him.

“Come now Geralt. I’ve kept your hair from turning into a matted mess all these years, you could attempt to salvage mine.”

Geralt grumbled but obligingly took a brush and began the arduous task of attempting to salvage his hair. He scrubbed the new and old dirt and grime from his form. Working clean the dirt under his nails and cutting them to a playable length.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Geralt shoved him under and started on a new clump.

“You should really know better than to just request a story in general. I’ll start recounting that incident in Novigrad. I do so like that story. The doppler posing as my lover. The brave witcher coming to my rescue-“

“The griffin.” Geralt interrupted. “You’ve never been a.” He paused.

“A monster before?”

Geralt hummed.

“I met a mage who was somehow even less pleasant than Yennefer and well.” He stretched his arms wide, dripping on the floor. “Griffin.”

He ignored the frown Geralt was burying into the back of his head. He was tired of sad stories. Violent stories. He didn't want to tell it. Didn't know how to weave it into something beautiful. Not yet. “I need to cut this one out.”

“Fine.” His mouth was full of blood and his hair was unsalvageable. “It’s just hair.”

He waited for Geralt to move away to grab his knife or the razor. It was fine. It was just hair. It was just hair.

Geralt’s arms wrapped around his chest and tucked his head into his neck. “It’ll grow back.”

“Of course it will.” He leaned his head back into Geralt’s shoulder ignoring the beads of bathwater that escaped his eyes or the soft tightness of his own voice. “It’s just hair.”

It wasn’t fucking important.

It wasn’t.

“I didn’t recognize you, you know? Not even a little. And then- then you said that thing about my mate being- being dead and I. I remembered. That you weren’t. You just didn’t want me. And that was so much worse.” He fought to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Cause you wouldn’t even meet me on the other side.”

“You believe in the other side now?”

“No. But it was a comforting thought until it wasn’t.”

Geralt hummed into his neck. “Rather met you on this side.”

A pained smile found its way onto his face and he rested his cheek against Geralt’s crown. “Thank you for not killing me.”

“Thank you for not hating me.”

“Oh I do. Just the normal amount though.”

“So long as it’s only the normal amount then.”

They stayed there. His fingers pruning in the water. Geralt breathing in the junction of his neck and let the water cool around him.

“Are you really okay with it?” Geralt hm’d his confusion. “Being my mate.”

Geralt raised his head. Drawing back. “You deserve better than this life.”

“A life better than the one I want?” His head drooped over the lip of the bath to watch Geralt.

“You need higher expectations.”

He turned around, kneeling in the tub, and took Geralt’s face in his hands. “That goes double for you. I am right where I want to be.” Golden eyes watched him. “The question is, are you?”

He waited as Geralt considered his answer. Stared into his eyes and tried not to think about what he’d do if Geralt said no.

“I can never tell how much of how you act is your shapes instincts and how much is you.” Geralt’s hand came up to hold his jaw. “Do you even want that? Or is it just the griffin talking?”

“Geralt.” He started.

“Or is this like the wolf were you kiss me because it’s an instinct or the otter where you hold my hand but it doesn’t mean anything once you come back to yourself?”

He leaned into Geralt’s hand on his jaw. Covered it in his own. “Geralt it’s always me. And maybe if I were human I wouldn’t do those things but the feelings that inspire those actions. They don’t change. Just how I express them does.”

He turned his face into Geralt’s hand and kissed it.

“I don’t know how griffins show their love beyond being overly possessive of their mate’s saddlebags,” Geralt snorted. “And I will apologize to Eskel in the morning for that. But Geralt believe me when I say that there is not a shape or form of mine that does not love you because they are all me.”

He moved his face from Geralt’s palm and leaned forward. Catching Geralt’s scraggly chin with the crook of his finger. Pulling him close. Until their breaths mingled. The way Roach did when she said I love you.

“And there is not a part of Jaskier that does not love you.”

Geralt’s eyes flickered over him. Weighed him. With those eyes that always saw too much. Had seen too much.

“Even the ferret?”

He laughed. Threw his head back and shook with it.

“Especially the ferret.” He promised, pressing their foreheads together.

“Then.” Geralt angled his head and pressed their lips together for a moment that was its own eternity and was still far too short. “I am where I want to be.”

“Good.” He smiled, big and crooked and entirely too honest. "Good."

“Well.” Geralt smiled in a way that made him bristle in anticipated irritation. “I’d rather be in the bath.”

He winked. “There’s plenty of room.”

“Not like this there isn’t and I’m not sharing a bath with any of your other forms again.”

“It was cheaper!”

“It was a mess!”

Geralt threw a towel at him.

He grumbled but exited. Feet freezing against the terrible cold of the floor. He leaped into the bed of blankets and burrowed into their warmth.

Geralt shoved him into a sitting position near the edge of the bed.

“I thought you were taking a bath.”

“Have to finish your hair first.” He heard Geralt unsheathe a knife. “Or you’ll just stress about it all night.”

“I somehow doubt the hack job your about to do is going to cause me less stress.”

“No.” Geralt agreed. “But it will be over.”

And with that the first clump came free. The tightness leaving his scalp where the matt had pulled the skin taunt.

It was just hair.

He sat very still and avoided the small dusty mirror on the far wall.

It was just hair.

Geralt ran his hands through it. Shaking the loose remains free.

“Done.”

He nodded.

He didn’t want to look.

It was just hair.

He crawled across the bed and stumbled over the tangle to blankets made at his feet to the mirror.

He wasn’t bald. So that was something.

But the uneven cuts poorly hid the sections Geralt had shorn to the scalp.

It was just hair.

“By spring no one will be able to tell.” Geralt reassured. Squeezing his bicep as he approached.

“Right.”

It was just hair.

He wasn’t going to cry over hair.

The world was at war. There was no point in being upset over hair.

“I think,” He braced for meaningless platitude Geralt would offer. “Your lute is out of tune.”

He laughed in a way that was definitely not a sob and broke eye contact with the man in the mirror.

Geralt set the lute in his lap.

He strummed it.

They both grimaced.

“This is going to take hours to fix. Care of Oxenfurt Geralt! Cause they know how to properly take care of a lute!”

Geralt ignored him and heated the bath with a quick sign before stripping.

He enjoyed the view until Geralt slipped under the water before beginning the terrible task before him.

“This is going to take hours.”

Geralt waved his hand again and fresh steam rolled off the water. “Got nowhere to be.”

Lutes were arduous instruments to tune.

He’d missed it.

The stings found their notes and his fingers found the strings and the song found him.

Distantly he watched Geralt climb out of the bath and dress in nightclothes. Distantly the bed next to him creaked as Geralt settled in.

But presently his fingers, lacking their calluses, ached against the strings and his voice echoed off the stone walls. His chest filled with it and when he could stand it no longer, his feet hit the cold floor and he danced.

He’d missed this. Singing. Dancing. Playing.

He missed it so much.

He spun and his damp hair stuck to his face as he finished the set. He beamed at Geralt, barely lit in faint orange darkness. Beautiful and alive and wanting him. His chest heaved as he caught his breath.

His eyes flicked over to the small shape that had joined Geralt in bed. Her platinum hair flickering orange with candle light.

He swallowed.

He opened his mouth but had no words for her.

He didn’t know where to start.

His fingers ached against the strings.

He wondered if she’d ever heard the songs he’d written for her.

He plucked one from his memory and played it.

Knelt at the side of her bed as it drew to a close and watched her with a timid smile.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t everything. It wasn’t convincing.

A man with raggedy hair, dressed in Geralt’s clothing that did not fit as nicely as they had the year before, and a song she might not even recognize.

He would not blame her for not trusting him. He would not let that hurt hurt her.

He won Geralt over one day at time. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year.

He would do the same for her. If he had to.

Her hand reached out. Thumb just under his eye as she angled his face.

“They’re still blue.” She said quietly.

“They always are.” Geralt told her. His eyes flickered back to him.

“Are they?” He asked. “I didn’t know that.”

“Never thought to mention it.”

His eyes drew back to Ciri. To her silent study of him.

He couldn’t bow while she held him so he settled for a smile. “I am Jaskier. The white wolf’s bard.” He told her as he set his lute aside. “And it is an honor to meet you Princess.”

His butt collided with the cold stone as his arms were filled with his cub. To her hands clasping at his shirt and her face buried in his shoulder.

After a moment he wrapped her in his arms and held her until the shaking stopped. Lifted her into bed.

Protect. Care for. Love. The magic begged him.

I will. I do. Always. He promised.

Geralt rolled onto his side and pulled the blankets over them.

“Can I stay? Just tonight.”

“Of course.” He promised. “Of course you can stay.”

You can stay forever. For that is how long I will love you cub. He sang back to her magic with the strings of Geralt’s chaos.

“Not every night.” Geralt rumbled and he prepared to hiss at him yes every night. As often as she needs. “But we’ll be here if you need us.”

Always. He agreed. “Always.”

They both snorted at him in the same way. His heart warmed.

He put a hand to his heart. “Always.” He insisted as theatrically as he could.

“You’re ridiculous. Is he always this ridiculous?”

“Always.” Geralt agreed.

He squawked in protest and within minutes they were asleep.

#Geralt #jaskier #ciri #geraskier #shapeshifter!Jaskier #shapeshifter au #geralt x jaskier #oh look it only took a month #hopefully the last chapter doesn't take quite so long #will it be the last chapter?#82% chance #writing

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serararku · 3 years

Text

Memories and Reveries Pt 1: Kazukane Crimson

<Theme>

Red maple trees shivered in the morning light while a thick fog rolled across the forest floor to chase the night away. Beneath the brightening sky knelt a lone Raen girl at the start of her twelfth summer, kneading dirty clothes against a washboard at the bank of the Kazukane River. The blisters on her hands had yet to heal from churning butter the night prior, but if she wanted to spend some time by herself, she needed to tackle these chores now lest she work well into the evening. She wisely decided to bring her straw hat to protect her grey skin from cooking when the sun burned away the fog, a satchel to gather apples along the path to keep her hunger at bay, and a pointed stick in case some wild animals started getting ideas. Yet as she washed her father’s trousers to watch the dirt slither down the river, she began getting ideas of her own.

Mizuna Daisho was on borrowed time. She only had two more years to attract a suitor, and competition was tough; just about every girl in Kokoro Village was fairer, more physically developed, and far more submissive. Mizuna’s hands and feet were covered in calluses, her body was still as flat as a flounder, and she loved spending her free time secluding herself from the other children. If she didn’t get any marriage prospects by the time she turned fourteen she would likely face a lifetime of being a crone; her parents planned to sell her to a family in another village, but word of Mizuna’s attitude had already traveled halfway across the Raen settlements. Hopefully she could physically mature into a more desirable body before she became a burden on her family.

Snap!

Mizuna shot up to her feet and spun around from the sound. "Hello?!" She called out, dropping her laundry to grab her pointed stick to defend herself; any creature large or bold enough to hunt an Au Ra for breakfast wouldn’t give away its position before the strike. Was it a monster instead? An angry spirit? She clenched her jaw and stiffened when a boy came stumbling over tree roots and out of the morning mist. Not just any boy either- one of the cruelest oafs she's ever had to deal with.

"Uh… hi… Mizuna-kun." Takaatsu Kusakari mumbled, waving awkwardly. "I was hoping you were here…"

He was too big to stab with her stick, plus he was strong enough to rip it out of her hands and snap it in half over his knee if he wanted to. Instead she dropped her weapon and reached for her satchel full of apples. "Go away!" She demanded with a trembling voice. "Just leave me alone!"

"Wait!" He raised his hands to shield himself from the shiny red apple spiraling toward his face; Mizuna had one hell of a throwing arm despite her size. "I wanted to apologize…" She was already stretching her arm back with the second attempt to nail him between the eyes when she paused. "For laughing at you… for all those stupid pranks… for… for calling you Tiny Tiddy Mizzy…"

This time she lifted her foot when she put her whole body into this throw. A red flash of fruit exploded on his arms, sending bits of apple all over the forest floor; he would have definitely been hurting if it weren't for the hardened scales lining his forearm absorbing most of it.

It was hard to pick out another apple while she was blinking away these blinding tears. She had fallen victim to their merciless name-calling and cruel pranks all year, and she would rather die than fall for any more of their tricks again. But to hear Takaatsu laughing along with them- someone she was close friends with ever since they were toddlers, that one hurt the most.

When she finally found the biggest, fattest, and hardest apple to chuck at him, she looked up to see Takaatsu bowing with his fat head facing the ground and his arms at his sides. "Please forgive me!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking twice. Muzuna was surprised yet cautious; shattering this juicy fruit against the top of his head at this angle and distance would be almost too easy. But why would he make himself vulnerable like this? What was his goal here?

"Who put you up to this?" She demanded, straining her eyes in hopes of finding his friends hiding behind the trees, barely containing their laughter. Yet no one was there…

"I wanted to be cool… for everyone to like me. When Matsumi singled you out, everyone just tried to impress her. I'm so sorry for all those dumb things I did… I trampled on our friendship because I was afraid they wouldn't accept me if I didn't…" Takaatsu barely moved a muscle, his eyes trailing up just high enough to see her feet; his scalp wasn't stinging from her throw, so that was a start. "I just wanted to fit in…"

Mizuna sucked in air as the first tear rolled down her cheek. "I wanted to fit in too…" She admitted, swallowing dryly. She wanted so desperately to hate him for humiliating her again and again. But she was just tired of being so angry and miserable all the time; and most of all, now more than ever, she wanted to be left alone.

"I wrote you something…" Takaatsu was slow to rise to his full height. He struggled to retrieve a crumpled parchment from his pocket and fumbled with it more when he pulled it open. He had to clear his throat more than once, with beads of sweat glistening on his forehead; his face was flushed and he was shaking- it looked like he was about to vomit.

“Well?” Mizuna huffed, her arm starting to ache from holding the apple aloft for so long. “Out with it!”

“M-Mizuna-kun… the Diasho Diamond… the Maiden of the Mists…” He blinked a few times and inhaled sharply before continuing. “With hair like bending reeds in the gentle breeze, and eyes like jadefire. You are a sleeping dragon, generous with fury and flame to those who disturb your rest. Your voice is honey… a song befitting the dancing waves of the sea. I risk your wrath, your ire, your warmth. I know the danger but I still speak your name to the wind. I still call out to the spirit in the fog.” Slowly he looked up to finally meet her gaze, no longer reading from the parchment in his trembling hands. “You’ve placed a curse upon me. I’ve seen your treasure at the back of your lair. I’ve heard your siren song along the stillwater. I am a moth and you are my candle… and I am forever drawn to your light. Mizuna-kun…! I…”

She had flushed a deep green in the face at this point, her arms heavy at her sides. The apple she was going to chuck at him had long dropped to her feet. Furthermore she was utterly speechless; no one had dared talk to her like that. A ferocious dragon? What did he mean when he called her that? And a ghost? None of it made any sense… and she didn’t know how to feel. But she knew she didn’t hate him. Not nearly as much as she used to.

He suddenly stiffened and took a few steps back. “Oh man…!” He mumbled, pointing at her. No… not at her… behind her. “What…?!” Mizuna was reluctant to turn around, partially fearing this was a setup for one of his cruelest pranks to date. But when she did turn to look at what he was pointing at, her blood ran cold and all the strength she had fled into the crisp morning air.

The Kazukane River was turning red. Deep and dark and crimson.

Soon shattered pieces of wood and broken wagon wheels began drifting downstream. Then came the livestock torn to pieces, their dull lifeless eyes and mangled faces occasionally poking out of the water before sinking and turning sideways when their legs scraped along the riverbed. The bloody water stained the few pieces of laundry Mizuna had soaking in the river, but she didn’t even notice. Especially once the Auri bodies came drifting down to greet her.

Men, women, and children; the river carried them all. The dead would be ferried to the mouth of the river and swallowed by the sea, their faces contorted with the permanent scars of their final moments- filled with terror. Mizuna felt nothing when she stared at the remains of people she once knew, staring blankly into their eyes as they shifted, bobbed, and floated by. The entire population of Shinegao Village seemed to drift along the stained waters, from infants to elderly.

"Mizuna!" Takaatsu's voice coaxed her out of her dazed stupor. "We have to go!"

She looked away from their faces once the dread began to settle in; she took a few meager steps back, but was still processing what she was looking at. What kind of horrible monster could slaughter an entire vil-

"MIZUNAAA!" Black scales burst forth from the river! Through the red mist and vapor came a hooked claw that raked across her stomach to violently tear holes through her dress! Mizuna stumbled back in shock and fell hard onto her back, knocking the wind from her lungs! She had just enough time to gaze upon the face of this monster as it slowly stepped out onto the bank!

The oni towered over the two children, with vibrant crimson skin painted with inky black markings. Across its collar were the severed heads of villagers strung together by their cracked and broken horns. But it’s eyes…! Fiery pits from the hottest hells, yet empty like the hungering void! Long black horns sprouted from the sides of its head, with tattered lips peeled back in a sadistic grin to reveal a mouthful of jagged teeth stained with the blood of its prey! Mizuna stared at its form and became paralyzed with terror!

Only Takaatsu grabbing Mizuna by the arm and yanking her onto her feet broke this insidious spell. The creature made a deep growling sound that vaguely mimicked laughter as it watched them flee into the forest, and Mizuna glanced over her shoulder just in time to see its burning red eyes disappear behind the grey backdrop of the morning mist.

She could barely keep up. Her tattered dress was nearly falling off her body, and blood trickled from her stomach from the slash, but he didn’t dare let go of her wrist. It wasn’t until they made it to the other end of the woods and stumbled upon the Hermit’s House did they stop and take a breath.

��What’s going on?” Okeya-san demanded, walking out of his house with his pitchfork. “What are you two kids doing out here so early?”

“Sir! A monster is coming!” Mizuna squeaked out between gasps. “It killed everyone in Shinegao!”

“What are you talking-” He paused as he caught figures emerging from the mist; instantly he recognized their markings. “G-get inside, children! Don’t make a sound you hear me?!” Takaatsu pulled Mizuna into the hermit’s shack, and ducked behind a large clay pot to hide. Okeya-san dropped his pitchfork and began walking toward the strangers, who stopped running and stood up to their full height to approach him. “W-wait…! Dotharl!” He called out, struggling to keep his composure. “N-no food! No glory! U-unarmed, see?! No sport!” He collapsed to his knees when the oni emerged, towering over Okeya-san as well; this creature was gigantic, and poorly disguised as an auri like them.

“Where children?” It demanded in a voice and accent as thick as mud. “Two. Tiny?”

“N-no children came this way…!” He clasped his hands together and bowed to show his surrender. “No children! J-just me!”

The oni glanced back at the others and sneered, bearing its teeth again. Okeya-san tried to reason with it again, but the creature suddenly grabbed him by the horns. Mizuna squeaked at the wet snap before Takaatsu could cover her mouth to stifle her panicking. The oni then planted a clawed foot on his shoulder and pulled off his head with three crunchy yanks. Another monster began to approach the shack with a cruel grin spread across its face, with burning yellow eyes and trophies from its conquest dangling from its form. But instead of just rushing in and slaughtering the two Raen children, it plucked the torch from the patio and swung the door open.

"Buuuurning!" It laughed, tossing the torches onto a bale of wheat before slamming the door closed; last night's rain and the morning mist left the outside of the shack too damp to burn, but everything inside was bone dry. Mizuna watched the growing flames devour the wheat in seconds before it began to creep along the floorboards and walls. If they tried rushing out of the only door, the murderers would simply catch and kill them; she didn’t have any answers and worse, the shack was quickly running out of air.

“Over here!” Takaatsu huffed, working his fingers between the floorboards in the corner to begin pulling them up. Mizuna reached down with one hand to help him, but kept her other hand over her mouth to avoid breathing in the darkening smoke. Just as the roaring flames began to surround them, the shoddy woodwork gave way; the Hermit’s House was elevated over the ground, but not by much- last night's storm had turned the dirt below into a sticky paste. Still, it beat burning to death. Mizuna and Takaatsu crawled along their bellies like salamanders to escape the flames but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

As soon as Takaatsu wiggled free from the underside of the shack and could stand up straight, he pulled Mizuna out by the arms and they began to make a run for it. It was hard to sprint in her dress even when it was clean and tidy, but now she nearly tripped on the torn threads that clung to her legs from the mud. But if they could just make it back to their hidden village then they could wait out these killers and-

THOP!

Mizuna’s legs buckled and she fell down the steep hill, rolling over and over until she slid the last few yalms at the bottom. Dazed, dizzy, and confused, she pulled her face out of the mud and gasped for breath, before desperately attempting to rise to her feet. “AUGH!” Jolting pain up her left leg stopped her from putting any pressure on her foot, and when she smeared mud away from her eyes, a cold dread gripped her by the back of the neck.

An arrow had pierced her lower calf to spill her blood into the muck; she didn’t know where the impact of the shot or the tumble down the hill broke her leg, but she was quickly running out of time. Takaatsu was nowhere to be found; he likely raced down the hill and jumped over the ditch in a single bound. Mizuna was now alone, bleeding and broken. It was only a matter of seconds before those monsters found her. “TAKA!” She cried out, grabbing handfuls of dirt and mud to pull herself along. “TAKE PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE ME!”

He reappeared out of the fog, scrambling down into the ditch to try and pull her out. “Come on! Come on!”

“M-my leg-!” She pleaded, unable to look at the twisted thing any longer. “Takaatsu please! Please don’t leave me with those things!”

“Oh no-!” He choked, glancing up and behind her. Mizuna whipped her head around to see seven oni standing at the top of the hill, with the one responsible for shooting her leg drawing another arrow. Takaatsu reached down and pulled her up by the collar of her shirt, yanking her out of the mud and heaving her over his shoulder. Gritting through the pain Mizuna clung to him for dear life, her fearful gaze locked on the creatures who slowly began to descend in their direction.

“I’m going to die!” She closed her eyes as tears began streaming down her face. She couldn’t bear to look at anything any longer- she simply braced herself for the bite of an arrow that never came. All she could hear was Takaatsu’s heavy breathing, all she could feel was the bounce of each step. Mizuna spent a lifetime waiting for death to take her, an eternity between every heartbeat. She sagged over his shoulders like a giant doll, letting her arms dangle and swing freely while she silently prayed to the Dawn Father for this terrible nightmare to end.

“HEY! HEEEYYY!” Takaatsu began shouting, drawing her back to reality. “Help us! Someone help us!” Mizuna opened her eyes just in time to see them cross the threshold of their home. All of Kokoro Village came stumbling out of their homes to witness this commotion, with murmured whispers and gasps slipping from the residents when they saw the sorry state of the two children.

Takaatsu almost dropped her when he collapsed into the dirt, using what little strength he had left to gently place her on the ground. Her mother Kana came running out of their house to surround Mizuna in her arms, but she could barely hear her mother’s panicked voice over the gathering crowd’s shouting. She looked around for Takaatsu, but he had vanished behind the legs of adults standing over her to get a better look.

“That’s enough! Get out of the way!” Only one voice could carry that far and demand that much respect. Mizuna’s father came rushing out of his dojo, almost stumbling and losing his cane more than once; but with his free hand he pulled and shoved people out of his way until the crowd got the message and gave him and his family much needed space. “Mizuna?! What happened?! What is the meaning of this?!”

“M-monsters Oto-san! There are monsters out in the mists! They killed everyone in Shinegao! And they killed Okeya-san!” Mizuna’s heart was pounding in her throat when she delivered the news, but she felt safe again in her mother’s soothing embrace. “H-he called them Do… dodo… d-”

“Dotharl.” Lord Daisho grimaced before his steely gaze shot to the entrance of the village. “Fetch me my sword and armor!”

“The blood trail…!” A villager gasped, pointing at Mizuna’s wounded leg. “Oh no…! You led them right to us! We’re doomed!”

Fear surged through the crowd like waves rippling across the disturbed surface of still water, but her father stood up straight and cleared his throat. “Women and children are to get inside! Anyone who can stand and fight- form up on me!” The villagers were terrified, but they did as he commanded. The elderly were ushered into their homes along with the children, with the women already setting buckets of water along the main path in the event of fire. Mizuna’s mother snapped the arrow’s shaft and pushed the barb through her leg, before she began wrapping the wound tightly. Even through the pain the little girl looked around for Takaatsu, spotting him still on one knee and drenched with mud and sweat.

“You there! Kusakari!” Her father commanded, pointing a finger at the young boy while his pupils rushed to fasten his old samurai armor onto his aging body. “Are you injured?!”

“N-no, Daisho-sama…!”

“You have given my daughter nothing but misery for the past year. You and the other brats have tortured her for far too long!” Takaatsu looked like he was about to wet himself, pressing his hands and knees onto the ground and bowing before the old swordmaster. “But because of your actions today… my daughter still breathes. Leaving her to die would have bought you enough time to return here alone… but you didn’t. You have shown great courage and bravery. Rise, Kusakari! Fight by my side and you shall have my daughter’s hand!” Mizuna pursed her lips in shock as Takaatsu shot to his feet, still out of breath and trembling, but seemingly taller than he’s ever been.

Hidekore Daisho went by many names over the years, but Kokoro Village simply knew him as the Bending Reed. His skill with a katana was unparalleled in his prime, but his prime was long gone. He couldn’t stand for long without the use of his cane, and his eyesight was beginning to fade. Worse still, he was terribly out of practice; he hadn’t so much as held a real katana in a dozen summers- not since his daughter was born. The villagers were terrified of being pillaged by a horde of Dotharli screamers, yet they rallied behind his call to arms all the same. The village was hidden in the cliffside and the only way out was through the entrance, so what choice did they have?

A dozen farmhands, some as young as ten, and not a shred of combat experience between them. Four hunters and a fisherman who knew how to gut and clean animals but not people. A woodsman who’s only ever swung an axe at trees, and an aging swordmaster. All against at least seven Dotharli berserkers who live and die for the glory of combat. Hidekore had to keep his composure lest the village succumb to panic, and if that were to happen, every single one of them would share in Shinegao Village’s fate. Their one saving grace was Takaatsu and Mizuna’s warning. And despite the Dotharl likely letting them go to lead them back here, he still considered it a boon more than a curse.

Hidekore turned to his family as his chestguard was pulled over his head and tied beneath his shoulders. Leaning hard on his cane he approached his loyal wife and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Whatever happens…” He whispered so low even Mizuna could barely hear him. “We will be together. Always.” Kana closed her watery eyes when her husband gently caressed her cheek and pulled away.

“They’re here!”

He whipped around and tossed his cane aside. “Get inside. Now!”

“Oto-san!” Mizuna cried out, reaching for him. The painted monsters came charging through the main gate, and everyone began stumbling back in terror; everyone but Lord Daisho. “Oto-saaan!” The last thing she saw as her mother slammed the door shut was her father drawing his pearly white katana and dropping the sheathe, with the berserking fiends closing the distance by leaping through the air at him. “OTO-SAAAAN!”

Mizuna jerked awake, her heart pounding in her chest. For a split second she could have sworn her parents were with her in this clinic, but she was alone. Only the steady beeping of the monitor and the low hum of the ceiling fan kept her company. Even after thirty summers her first Dotharli raid was still fresh in her memories, just waiting to peek around the corner and frighten her in her darkest nightmares. No longer concerned with keeping up a professional appearance, she pinched a gloomroot blunt in between her trembling fingers and lit it up.

Her smoke break would have to come early this time.

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jungstruly · 4 years

Note

helloooo for the build a blurb, I'd like to request an apocalypse au with jaemin + "a little fall of rain" from les miserables :)) thank you!!

Jaemin + Apocalypse AU + A little fall of rain from Les Miserables

[a.n. My heart was aching with every word that I type and the fact that it is indeed raining here. I hate you so much. Well, not rlly but now it’s sad hours here.]

masterlist

You pointed your rifle to the large garbage dumpster the moment you heard a rustling sound. Only to sigh in relief as you see a white cat, walking into view. Your hand grabbed a piece of bread from the rolled down window of the front seat of the parked black run down hummer behind you. A small smile made its way to your lips. When your day consists of a shit ton of zombies trying to eat you and you constantly fighting for your dear life from dusk ‘till dawn, you’ll definitely label mundane moments like this as rare, special even.

The cat meowed in delight, gobbling down the bread from your palm. You made a mental note to tell Jaemin that you fed the crusts to the stray cat. The serenity of the moment vanished when you heard two gunshots from inside the abandoned drugstore where Jaemin is. Already back up to your feet, you aimed your rifle ready to the front.

“Jaemin!” You manage to let out a breath of relief as you see him staggering back towards you. In panic, you tried to meet him halfway. “What happened? I heard a gunsh-”

“Stay right there Y.N!” Jaemin’s loud voice bounces on the drugstore’s empty parking lot in the middle of nowhere. His cheek was smudged with blood, suggesting that he had an encounter inside the empty store. His sudden outburst made you taken aback but that didn’t stop you from taking another step.

“Baby what-”

“Fucking stay right there!” You flinch at his deep voice. Jaemin’s hand signalled you to stop in which you obliged. He touches his neck, hissing as he touches the wound before he brings his bloody hand in front of his face. “Shit,”

Fear and panic coursed through your veins as you watch your boyfriend of 5 years remove his jacket off of him. He started to fumble with his cargo pants pockets, obviously looking for what you feared the most. It all happened so fast. Jaemin found the sharpest knife that he keeps for emergencies on his pants before plunging the long weapon straight to his heart.

A loud cry of yelp escapes your lips as you try to run as fast as you can to him. Jaemin fell to the concrete ground with a soft thud. The sharp knife was thrown inches away from him. Your arms immediately drag his body close to yours. The stab was too deep on his chest.

“Oh God,” Tears clouded your vision as you panicked to put pressure on his blood oozing chest. “Why didn’t you tell me, huh? Nana, you could’ve just told me.”

Jaemin tried to cough out a laugh, blood trickled from his mouth. He grabbed your hand that was on top of his chest and intertwined it with his to stop your attempt on saving him.“I know you won’t let me die silly.”

“I don’t want to be the one to hurt you once I-I turn into them right, b-baby?” You wanted to wipe that smug grin off of his face so bad. Another sob escapes your lips when you realize that Jaemin doesn’t have any plans on letting go of your hand.

Without any other choice, you slide yourself underneath his torso. Jaemin’s head fit perfectly on the crook of your neck. He took his time to inhale your scent, taking in account how you always seem to smell like flowers and peaches despite the world turning into a zombieland. Jaemin took your blood cladded hand near his lips. He made sure to leave a long lingering kiss on it.

“You have five minutes Y.N” He manages to breathe out as your helpless cries fill the place. “Five minutes t-to drive away from me before I turn into-”

You shake your head violently, pulling his body closer to yours. Too afraid that death will snatch him from your tight embrace. “No,”

“Stubborn as always,” Jaemin coughs out, staring at your eyes for the last time. A water droplet trickled on his forehead and then another. It was as if the sky was crying with you at that moment. Rain poured down the both of you. Your breathing ragged while you cry your heart out, wishing that someone up there was listening, someway, somehow.

“Please, please. Jaemin no. I don’t want you to leave.” You whimpered helplessly, clutching Jaemin’s hand. “Oh God, please.”

“Shhhh, we’re okay baby. ” The man on your arms cooed softly. His other hand finds your cheek in which you immediately lean on his touch.

“I’m okay. You’re okay so it’s okay.” He manages a smile. He didn’t have much of a choice. It was him or you and he chose the latter. His eyelids barely keep up with him as he coughs violently, blood oozes down his lips. Jaemin didn’t believe in one's life flashing before their eyes, not until now. There was you. Your laughter, your warm eyes, your smile and how you danced with him on the kitchen floor and he’d always, always hum you his favorite song. It has always been you.

“Y.N?” He calls out. Jaemin blinks back at your face. He tried the best that he can to memorize each and every line, every curve and every bump on your face.

“I’m here.”

You planted a sweet kiss on his forehead that earned a weak smile from him. Rocking your body softly, you started to hum his favorite song despite the burning sensation on your throat. Jaemin’s eyes softly closed. Despite the cold rain, a warm smile is evident on his face.

“That’s all I need to k-know.”

His words came out barely a whisper and you held him tightly as you stayed there, hoping that Jaemin’s eyes would flutter open once more.

But it never did.

#jaemin #na jaemin #nct dream angst #jaemin angst #jaemin drabbles #jaemin imagines #nct dream drabbles #nct dream blurbs #nct dream imagines #nct #nct u

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curiousconch · 3 years

Text

Sobering Truth

Chapter 10 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: After the fallout of Rafael and Heather, what could this mean to Bryce and the recovering doctor?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 2.1k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / hints of past violent experience and sex

Author's Notes: Almost is Never Enough by Ariana Grande and Nathan Skyes was the perfect song for this chapter, the lyrics are very fitting. Also, watch out for a cameo from a PM character 😊

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Bryce found himself hunched alone in a bar stool downtown Boston. He swirled the brown liquid in his glass, brows furrowed in remembering the scene in the hospital room.

His face contorted with the pain piercing through his chest, the possibility of losing Heather once again sinking like a sword. He racked his mind for an option, but it seems all is lost in that battle.

He thought back to their last outing together, and he was so certain that something was there. So why did she choose to stay with someone else instead of being with him?

His lips formed a thin line, his hand rubbing over his face in frustration. The emotions within turbulent and unnerving. Was he just too much of a fool when he thought he had a shot with her?

This is exactly why Bryce Lahela didn't want to commit. It was far more easier for him to seek momentary connections rather than build permanent ones. He didn't want to relive the rejections-filled past from his adolescence, at the time of his parents' criminal convictions.

Yet here he was again, suffering the same consequences of wanting something permanent in his life. Something that could bring him happiness. Something better than him being alone in the middle of a crowd of drunken patrons.

He should've stayed in his own lane of hook-ups and one night stands instead of chasing for this relationship.

So the first thing he did when he realized that that door is closing, was to go back to his old stomping grounds.

But why can't he will himself to look around?

As if on queue, an olive-skinned woman slid herself beside him, her sudden presence invading his thoughts. With a half-smirk and green catty eyes, the coils of dark hair loosely wrapping her head. The mere sight of her was mesmerizing.

"I know you," she said, almost in a purr.

Bryce looked back at her, and a long-forgotten heat warmed him up. And it wasn't because of the alcohol in his system.

"I guess my reputation is my charm," he replied, leaning forward. He loosened his tie whilst sipping from his glass.

"Oh I know all about your reputation," her voice made him shiver, her fingers ever slowly trailing a path towards his arm. "You're the one with magic hands," she whispered, her brows dancing as she spoke.

This commanding woman was pushing his buttons in all the right places, her sparkly black cocktail dress that clung on her body tightly wasn't making him feel suddenly parched.

Her hand continued to venture up his arm, and eventually the side of his neck. As it followed the line of his jaw, Bryce couldn't help but lean closer.

Nothing was stopping him at the moment.

Miles away from being sober, his lips blew a short burst of air into the woman's bare neck, after which he got the chance to breathe in a whiff of her perfume.

The jasmine scent was all too familiar. It conjured the image of the woman who Bryce fled away from tonight.

Heather.

Snapping out of the trance, he took a step back. Gone was the sexual tension that floated in the air mere seconds ago. Bryce only shook his head to the woman and paid his tab, before almost sprinting out into the cold rain that continued to flood the concrete pavement.

He let the drops of water wash all over him until he was soaked. With it, the inevitable tears began to fall, which he didn't hold back. He also didn't mind how it easily reduced the numbing effect of the bottle of Jack Daniels that he just consumed.

Like a thief in the night, the woman of his dreams snatched what was left of Bryce's vulnerable heart. He knew, deep down, that it would take a long time before he can get it back.

***

"Breaking news. Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson pleads guilty as co-conspirators of the kidnapping of Senator Ed Farrugia and Edenbrook doctor Heather Song."

"This is following an intensive investigation by the joint special task force created as the public clamored to protect Massachusetts famed senator.

"We are joined today by one of the victims, Senator Ed Farrugia, after he gave his testimony today at the Boston courthouse."

The video flicked from a female news anchor to the steps of the city's courthouse, where the politician was joined by Chief DA Tanaka. Heather's hazel eyes however wasn't on the prominent people in the screen, but instead drawn to the tall figure standing beside the older man, his intimidating stature made more pronounced by the sharp gray suit that contoured just enough to please.

Bryce.

Saying his name, even in her mind, made her involuntarily shudder with regret, aware that between them was an undeniable attraction that she just couldn't shake off. Ever since her kidnapping, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what could've been. Was it just too late for them? Will it only remain a connection that can never be explored? Will it ever be something more? She knew, deep down, if she could change the world overnight, she wanted to try. If there was anything she could learn from her almost dying, it was the sobering truth that life was too short to be restrained by inaction.

But she hadn't been able to speak to him for a while now. He didn't answer his phone nor returned any of her texts or messages. She hoped to get the chance when she was scheduled for her recorded testimony. To her dismay, another ADA visited her and took her witness account.

She thought he was just busy with the case, but she sensed that he was avoiding her altogether. Her free time provided her so many hours to rack her brain for the reason why. To this day, that question was left unanswered.

Danny raised his gaze to Heather, as he felt her pulse beat faster than normal. He turned to the TV monitor in the hospital room, stifling a chuckle as he found the reason behind her palpitations.

"Let's try to do this again," Danny said, making Heather's attention swivel to him.

"Why? Something wrong?" she asked, obviously confused.

This time, Danny snickered, grabbing the remote from her and switched the channel. The gesture was enough to make her fluster as it dawned on her what the nurse was insinuating.

"I can't put your last BPM on your chart, Heather. We dont want Dr. Ramsey to not sign off on your discharge papers today. Two weeks of him pestering us is enough torture to last a lifetime," he scoffed jokingly, referencing how the senior attending relentlessly chased the hospital staff to put her case on priority.

She curtly nodded, her mentor's crass actions embarrassing her further.

"Thanks, Danny." she sheepishly smiled, hoping the two words were enough to express her appreciation of how the hospital helped her get back on her feet during the roughest period of her life yet.

Danny returned her gesture, before getting back to taking her pulse. Satisfied, he recorded it to the clipboard in his hand, as her friends thundered into the room.

Sienna, Elijah, Jackie and Aurora all stepped inside, each carrying an assortment of food items. They moved their Sunday brunch to that day in celebration of Heather's discharge. The welcome noise warmed her heart, their usual banter flowing like music to her ears.

The thundering of her deep-seated emotions momentarily toned down, as she enjoyed the company of the small family she found in Edenbrook.

Outside, the weather was warm with no clouds threatening to dampen the surroundings.

It was going to be a good day.

***

As the last of the questions were addressed and the cameras were turned away, Bryce sighed in relief.

With the news crews dispersed, Chief Tanaka left to head back to the DA's office, leaving him as second chair to wrap up all the remaining paperwork. He strutted into the courthouse, the ADA facade well in effect.

It was an understatement to say that the past few weeks were hectic.

Interviewing Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson was like being pulled into opposite poles. Their personalities were so polarizingly different that Bryce suspected that there was a more to the case than what appears.

So he advised the special task force to dig into that angle. The FBI's investigation is still ongoing, and he is betting against it finishing soon.

Today was a day of accomplishments, and Bryce's mood was better than it was ever since that night. Or so he thought.

As his mind shifted back into the present, he caught the unwelcome sight of Agent Rafael Aveiro conversing with someone in the hallways. He managed to hear a glimpse of the conversation as they got into earshot.

"You're background would be invaluable to us, Agent Rafael," the strange man in the tweed-colored jacket said.

"This is such a timely offer that I couldn't refuse. I'll let you know as soon as I wrap up my last case." Bryce heard Raf say.

"Of course. But please don't keep us in the Interpol on our toes, Agent."

"Of course, Agent Nazario."

Taken aback, he stopped, trying to understand what had just transpired. Why was Rafael taking a job with the interpol?

Once Bryce saw that the special investigator was alone, he approached him, words blazing.

"Interpol? Seriously, Raf, this soon?"

Raf turned to face him, surprised at Bryce's sudden interjection.

"I don't see the need to explain myself to you, ADA Lahela." He politely said as he begun to walk away.

"But you just got back together! Why leave for an overseas job this soon when she needs you the most?" Bryce's voice rose, echoing into the nearly full hallway. He honestly didn't mind, weeks worth of bottled up frustration threatening to surface.

A more puzzled expression filled Rafael's face, the line of interrogation making him turn around and stare back at the prosecutor.

Rafael recognized the look on Bryce's face. It was a mirror of his own haunted reflection. Of a lost love, never to return. The confusion gave way to understanding.

It made him soften his stance, and place a brotherly hand on the lawyer's shoulder.

"Look, I don't know why you think that, but Heather and I..." he paused, taking a deep breath as he tried to bury the painful memory of their goodbye into the back of his mind. "We broke up. The same night that she was admitted to Edenbrook after her kidnapping, we talked and agreed to go our separate ways."

Bryce couldn't believe what he was hearing, his knees weakening with the revelation. Amber eyes widened in shock and feeling like an idiot at the same time.

He smiled despite himself, the nightmares of his imaginary rejection transformed into a wonderful dream. The door that he thought was closed is now unlocking, and he was determined to blow it wide open.

With a hasty thank you and goodbye to Raf, he turned the soles of his leather shoes and raced to the door of the courthouse.

Bryce didn't dare waste another minute to look back.

Tags: @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart #rafael aveiro #bryce lahela #open heart fanfiction #open heart fic #rafael aveiro x mc #bryce lahela x mc #choices fic writers creations #choices fanfiction #open heart 2 #choices #pixelberry #fics of the week

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rosieshipper · 3 years

Text

First kill

Summary: After being stuck with Hydra for nearly her whole life, Rose could only take so much before one day when she finally snaps

A/N: This is my first fic for my evil!Rose au! I hope you all like it!!

Warnings: This fic is not for the faint of heart. Fic includes; swearing, sickness and vomiting, character death, death of a child, violence, graphic depictions of blood and gore, and very heavy angst and whump

Rose sat against one of the walls of her cell, watching the little girl she would come to call her little sister play with some old wooden blocks, making them float through the air. The sixteen year old only knew the young girl for about half a year now, becoming protective of her when she found out that the little girl was kidnapped from her orphanage and forced into Hydra’s program for human experiments. She came to find out that her name was Olivia, Livvy for short. Rose felt a strong protectiveness over the girl when she first met her. Perhaps it was because she was in the girl’s same position when she was her age. Brought to a place she never knew and forced to be experimented on by some twisted doctors

“Hey Rosie, check this out!” Rose snapped out of her daze when Olivia suddenly called out to her. She looked over and saw the little girl balance the blocks on their corners with her powers, a look of excitement on the girl’s face. Rose smiled as she watched her, a feeling of proudness filling her chest. Olivia always seemed to bring out the goodness in her, brightening up her day no matter the situation. Whenever she got back to her cell from a hard day of tests and training, Olivia would always be there waiting for her to help cheer her up

“Very impressive, Livvy. You’re getting more in control of your powers every day.” Rose told her with a proud smile. Olivia only smiled back before suddenly out of nowhere she began to cough violently, causing the balancing blocks to come tumbling down to the ground. Rose’s faded to a frown of worry. This wasn’t the first time she had a violent coughing fit. Olivia had been getting sick over the past few weeks and was getting worse by the day. Rose pleaded with the Hydra doctors and scientists before to give Olivia medicine so that she would be able to get better. But they haven’t brought her anything yet

Getting up, Rose walked over and knelt down beside Olivia, pulling her into her arms and gently patting her back to help stop the coughing. Eventually, Olivia fell quiet and looked up at Rose, thanking her for helping her. “It’s ok, little one. And don’t worry, you’re gonna get your medicine soon, I promise.” Rose whispered to her, pressing a light kiss to the little girl’s forehead. Just after that, there was a knock on the cell door, it was a guard bringing them their dinner. Rose slowly stood up and went to collect their food. As she picked up the two trays that were slid under the door, she looked at the guard through the bars

“You know I’m not gonna stop asking until it happens. Olivia needs medicine and soon. She’ll die without it.” Rose told the guard with a deep frown. “I cannot give you anything without the permission of Baron Strucker.” The guards told her. “Well perhaps Strucker wouldn’t like it if his best experiment refused to do anything for him!” Rose snapped at the guard, sharp teeth baring at the man. “Get me that medicine, I’m not gonna ask again.” She hissed before walking back to Olivia, sitting down on the floor with her and handing her her tray of food

“Eat up, Olivia. You need your strength.” Rose said as she set the tray of food down in front of the little girl. Olivia of course wasted no time eating her dinner, gobbling away at the food like she hadn’t eaten in months. Rose only watched her while picking at her own food. She didn’t really feel hungry that night, too worried about Olivia and getting her the medicine she needed. “Rosie? Aren’t you gonna eat?” Olivia asked as she looked up at her big sister. “Oh I’m not hungry, little one. You can have it if you want.” Rose offered with a smile, pushing her tray over to Olivia

Olivia smiled and thanked her, beginning to eat away at her new food. After a while, it soon became lights out and Rose and Olivia had to go to bed. “Come on, Livvy, it’s bedtime.” Rose said as she nudged her over to the bed. “I don’t want to go to sleep.” Olivia protested with a frown. “But you need your sleep. It’ll help you with getting better, now come on.” Rose told her as she shifted into a wolf and climbed up onto the bed. Olivia followed and moved onto the bed, cuddling close to Rose and burying her face in her warm fur. Rose instinctively wrapped her long tail around her to keep her warm throughout the night. “Rosie? Can you sing that one song to me?” Olivia asked softly with a yawn

“Of course, little one.” Rose whispered back as she hugged the little girl close. She then began to sing a soft Sokovian lullaby that her mother used to sing to her when she was little. The soft words and tunes left Rose’s lips and gently lulled Olivia into a deep peaceful sleep. Rose soon finished the song and found herself drifting off slowly after her, her eyes closing as she too fell asleep

The next morning, Rose was woken up by the sound of loud coughing and hacking. Opening her eyes, Rose saw Olivia sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking as she coughed and wheezed. A wave of worry washed over Rose as she quickly sat up, shifting back to her human self. Olivia was getting worse. “Livvy? Is everything alright?” She asked as she stood up and knelt down in front of her. “M-My stomach h-hurts, Rosie.” Olivia whimpered out through her violent coughing fit. Suddenly Olivia jumped off the bed and ran to the corner of the room. She began to dry heave before eventually emptying her stomach of all the dinner she ate the night before

Rose felt guilt begin to well up inside her. All she wanted was to help Olivia get better, but the fuckers outside won’t give her the medicine she needs. Eventually, Olivia came shambling back to the bed and clung to Rose tightly as she wept quietly into her chest. “I-It hurts so much..” Olivia cried as Rose held her close and rubbed her back. “I know, little one. I know it does. Don’t you worry, I’m gonna get you that medicine even if it kills me.” Rose whispered before kissing the top of her head

Suddenly the door to the cell opened behind Rose, causing her to look back. It was one of the Hydra guards. “Subject 36, it’s time for more training.” The guard said as he looked over at her. “I can’t. I can’t leave Olivia. She’s gotten worse, she needs that damn medicine!” Rose snapped at the man, tears springing to the corners of her eyes and threatening to fall. “That was not a request, it was an order. Stand up.” The man snapped back at her. Rose knew that there was no getting through to the man so she stood up and gently laid Olivia down on the bed, covering her up with a blanket. “Try and get some sleep, Livvy. I’ll be back before you know it.” Rose whispered as she tucked her in. “I love you, little one.” She told her quietly, kissing her temple before straightening up and turning back to the guard, leaving the cell with him

Once they got to the training room, Rose froze when she saw who was waiting in there for her. Baron von Strucker. Rose’s gaze quickly turned to a nasty scowl and she stomped up to him. If looks could kill, Strucker would have been in a dead heap on the ground. “Strucker. You promised to get me the medicine weeks ago. Where is it you bastard?!” Rose shouted at the man, glaring icy daggers at him while she bared her sharp fangs. Without saying a word, Strucker suddenly held up a small bottle of pills and Rose immediately fell silent. “I never said I broke my promise. I have your medicine right here. But I will only give it to you if you do well during your training today.” Strucker told her as he slipped the bottle back into his pocket

Rose finally had a chance to save Olivia. No matter what it took, she was gonna do it. So she trained hard, harder then she had ever had before. Olivia’s life was on the line, she had to do her best. After what felt like an eternity, Rose’s training came to an end. She had a few new open wounds but that didn’t matter to her. All she cared about was that medicine. She quickly walked up to Strucker who already had the bottle in his hands. “I must say I’m impressed with your improvement, you’ve earned this.” He said as he handed the bottle of pills to her. In that moment, Rose felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Olivia was gonna be okay

Rose walked as quickly as she could as she was escorted back to her cell by one of the guards. Once the door to her cell had been opened, Rose came rushing inside her and over to the bed where Olivia was still laying. “Livvy! Look! I have your medicine! You’re gonna be okay!” Rose exclaimed with a smile and tears of joy in her eyes as she rushed over to the side of the bed. But for some reason, Olivia didn’t say anything...or move at all

“Olivia? Can you hear me? Are you still asleep?” Rose asked when she hadn’t said anything, reaching over to try and gently shake her awake. But Rose froze when Olivia flopped over onto her back, completely motionless. The realization hit Rose like a train and it felt like her own heart had stopped completely. The shock caused her to drop the bottle of pills on the floor, spilling them everywhere. Olivia was dead. Rose didn’t make it in time. She was too late. Rose fell to her knees as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “No. She can’t be dead..she can’t be..” Rose thought to herself, but she knew it was true. Olivia was gone and she couldn’t bring her back

Once the realization fully set in, Rose let out a loud and heart wrenching scream before delving into a deep fit of sobs and tears. The whole time Rose was sobbing she was screaming out incoherent words about how this was all her fault and if only she had gotten back sooner. She tugged at her long hair, as she fell to her hands and knees. But during her sobbing, Rose heard something from the guard who was still standing at the door that made her fall deathly silent

“Good riddance to the little brat.” The guard said distastefully. Rose slowly turned her head to look at the guard, eyes wide and slowly filling with anger. “What the fuck did you say?” She hissed out slowly, turning to the guard. “I said good riddance. That brat has been nothing but a distraction to you. Why do you think Strucker held off so long on giving you the medicine? He was waiting for her to die so that you would focus more on your own powers instead of worrying about the life of some pitiful little brat who was never gonna survive in the first place.” The guard told, not realizing that he had just sealed his fate. In that exact moment, something inside Rose snapped. She had felt an intense rage like she had never felt before quickly fill up inside her. In that moment, she was ready to kill

(Warning: The next few paragraphs will be filled with graphic content of blood and gore. Scroll until you see another set of parentheses indicating the end of the graphic content)

The next few moments all happened in a blur. Rose quickly got up and shifted into a large tiger, charging quickly at the man and tackling him to the ground, all the while letting out a loud scream. She managed to get to him before he even had the chance to grab his gun off his holster. Knocking the man to the ground, Rose jumped on top of him and began to violently slash at the man with her sharp claws. Her claws slashed the man’s flesh open, leaving deep long wounds along his arms and torso. All the while the man was screaming out in pain and agony, trying his best to scramble out from her to get away, but Rose placed her giant paw on his shoulder, digging her claws in to keep him still

“Olivia was no brat! She was my sister! AND SHE DESERVED TO LIVE!!” Rose screamed at the man before swiping her claws across his face, leaving a long gash in their wake and even taking out one of his eyes as well. She then reached down and bit the man’s shoulder, violently shaking her head until she heard the shoulder pop right out of its socket. In the moment, Rose paused for just a short amount of time and looked the man dead in his remaining eye. She wanted to make sure that she was the last thing he ever saw before he died. With one final scream, Rose reared down and buried her teeth in the man’s throat, shaking her head to rip and tear away anything important

Soon enough the flesh tore away, spraying blood all over Rose’s face and chest. Spitting out the flesh from her mouth, she looked down at the man’s mutilated corpse. Blood was still spilling from the large hole in the man’s throat. He twitched a few times, gasping for air before eventually falling still, never to move or see the light of day ever again

(This is the end of the graphic bit of the fic, the rest does not have any graphic content)

Rose stood over the corpse of the man, panting quietly as blood dripped from her muzzle down her chest and too her paws. The realization slowly dawned on her and she realized what she had just done. She had killed someone for the very first time. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her body shaking all the while. But eventually, she calmed. She merely shoved the body out of her cell and closed the door behind her, shifting back to her human self and sitting against the wall of her cell. She was alone now, no Olivia to come make her days bearable again. She had no one anymore

In that moment, Rose made a vow to herself. She would avenge Olivia and make everyone who ever worked for Hydra pay. She would make them all pay, no matter what it took. She would do it for Olivia

Tags: @astralshipper @aricka-and-her-fictional-others @capitaine-amour @magicalbunbun @journalofdeath

#self shipping #self ship #selfshipping #self ship community #self insert #marvel #mcu #selfship community #avengers #evil!rose au #tw: character death #tw: blood mentions #tw: gore #tw: violence #tw: death of a child #Spotify

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bookocd · 3 years

Text

Velaris University

So this is my first try at a college AU and while it was super fun to write, I would love for some feedback if anyone has any! Also please let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates or have prompts for this series (I will def need them)

Thanks for reading! I hope you like it :)

Here is my masterlist of fanfics is anyone wants it!

Chapter 1:

“I just think it’s stupid.” The entire car trip had been the same conversation playing on repeat. I was getting a headache.

“I know exactly what you think Nesta. You’ve only said it about twenty times.”

“I don’t understand why anyone would go to college with a boyfriend.”

“You don’t actually think that, you just hate Tamlin.” I was rubbing temples fiercely, and let out a sigh of relief as the Velaris University sign came into focus ahead of us.

“He lost my respect when he threatened to break up with you if you didn’t follow him to SCC.” The moment I told her, I regretted it and I couldn’t help my frown from deepening.

“Nes you need to let that go, he obviously didn’t mean it. He was just upset. We were both upset.”

The fight I had with my boyfriend flashed in my mind, and I had to stop myself from physically cringing.

I was hugging myself with tears running down my face.

“Feyre, did you really think that I would be happy?” His voice was quiet, like it was also waiting for the inevitable explosion. We were standing in the greenhouse that was connected to his families mansion. This was the place they had shared their first kiss, their first time having sex, and also their first I love you’s. A thought crossed my mind that this would also be the space we had out first breakup.

“This-s program is m-my dream Tam. It’s what I want to do with my l-life.” It was hard to get the words out through the sobs.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Suddenly there were plants on the ground and one of the tables was on its side. I backed up, the sobs increasing. He turned to me with a feral look on his face, and yelled, “I thought this was our life! You’re being so fucking selfish.”

I tried to stammer out an apology, but he put his hand out to silence me, a command.

“If you do this, we are over.” The glow from the greenhouse light made him look angelic, with his long golden hair and perfectly angled face. This would have been the perfect picture if he wasn’t glowering. He waited for a minute with his chest moving up and down with his quick breaths. He was waiting for me to change my mind, but I wasn’t going to.

He finally realized what my silence meant, and kicked over another table of flowers. A pot landed right at my feet and shattered instantly. It reminded me of my heart. He retreated into his house, slamming the door behind him.

“Being upset is not an excuse to be a dick.” Her comment brought me back to the present. “And it scares me that you think it does” she continued. I wasn’t going to tell her that it scared me too. I also wasn’t going to tell her, or anyone else, about his more violent reactions. I just kept telling myself that those responses were not directed toward me.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I love him, we are together, and that’s all I have to say.” She turned her blue Chevy into the parking lot of Apartment Hall D, which was where I would be living for the next year. I could see the whites of her knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel, readying herself for another round. Before she could start again, I asked. “Can we just unpack the car please?”

Her glaring eyes and stiff posture showed how hard it was for her to drop the topic, but she ended up shaking her head, parking the truck, and opening the car door.

—

Nesta and I climbed the three flights of stairs to apartment 304, and I wondered if there was roof access.

“Feyre the key,” Nesta’s labored breath and arms full of boxes, had me reaching into my purse and digging for my keys. Finally finding them and feeling a glare on the back of my neck, I opened the door to my new home.

Walking into the open concept apartment, I was very happy over my decision to not live in a dorm. The only reason I could afford this was because of my scholarship, but I wanted space to paint and I wanted Tamlin to have the ability to visit whenever he wanted. The kitchen was directly to the left of the door, with yellow cabinets, a large oven and fridge, and a large white granite island. The apartment was furnished, so the room beyond the kitchen had a medium sized couch with blue cushions with a navy armchair next to it. Both the couch and chair were facing a white wall where a wooden TV stand sat, which was empty if the occupants couldn’t afford one. This occupant could not. Past the living area, a glass door led out to a small deck that had a view of the whole campus. I pushed open the door and felt the morning breeze hit my face. The sun was rising and the light reflected off all the windows, which ate every shadow in sight. The University was almost golden.

Reluctantly I tore myself from the beautiful sight.

Turning back I went looking for my bedroom. A small laundry room and pantry directly next to the kitchen. A small hallway showed three more doors, two on the far side and one on the closest side. One was an empty bed room, with a spacious closet, a bed frame with a mattress, a small dresser, and a worn wooden desk and chair in the corner. The room was small and the furniture was old, but the view from the window was worth it. It was the opposite side from the deck, so I was looking out onto the city of Velaris. The ocean was visible and so were the mountains that surrounded the north side of the city. The morning sun was illuminating the water making it sparkle, and I knew that I would live in a shoe if it had this view.

My randomly assigned roommate was no where to be seen, but the next room was already filled to the brink with clothing, makeup, and jewelry. I was excited to hopefully have a friend I could borrow some clothes from, even though half of it I could never pull off. Nesta, however, took one look at the dresser, which was overflowing with lingerie, and scoffed. Her scoff was covering the embarrassed look and blush now covering her face. I had to hide my snort with a cough. My sister being uncomfortable was very rare, so the fact that underwear is what caused it was fucking hilarious. I immediately got out my phone and sent a text to Tam.

NESTA IS SCARED OF UNDERWEAR!!

haha mens or womens?

Apparently women’s

knew she had to be afraid of something

maybe you should change your wardrobe to just underwear just to make her uncomfortable

i would fully support that

Pig lol

I smiled at my phone, at the semblance of normalcy between us.

I glanced into the small bathroom across the hall. There was a shower, toilet, and a nice double sink. One half of said sink was covered by perfumes, curling irons, and other hair products. The colors were so vivid and varied that they stood out from the dull white bathroom, like paint splatter on a white canvas.

After our tour of the apartment, my sister was silent as we carried up bags and boxes from the bed of her truck to my room. After everything was pilled into my small room, and a box of kitchen supplies was left sitting on the island, Nesta made a gesture for me to follow her back downstairs. She lived in a small single bedroom apartment across campus. She had told me that she needed her own space as a third year, so we couldn’t save money and just live together. I didn’t humor myself into thinking that her answer wasn’t utter bullshit.

When we stepped out of the building and into the warm day, I found myself saying, “Thank you… for driving me and helping me bring up all my stuff.”

As she was climbing back into her truck, she hesitated. The hard look she pinned me with over her shoulder, had me bracing for the impact of her inevitable words.

“Don’t come crying to me Feyre when he finally does something that being upset doesn’t excuse.”

Nesta always was the worst at goodbyes.

—

Even though classes didn’t start for another 3 days, I started unpacking my art supplies and organizing them into my desk drawers. I had only just started when I heard the front door open.

“Dude I can’t believe you got a rando.” The low voice was scratchy, sexy, and loud enough to hear, even with my door closed.

“I’m getting bored with you guys, so I need new friends.” I heard at least 3 different sets of laughter, all of them male. The female, who was my new roommate, had such a soft song like voice and I knew she was probably beautiful. I suddenly became self conscious of myself with my brown hair tied back in a low bun and no makeup on.

“What if she’s insane?”

“What if she doesn’t like you?”

“What if she doesn’t like us?”

“Can all of you guys just shut up?”

The bickering continued until my roommate must have seen one of my boxes, because then she started to kick them out.

“Get out. Get out!” Laughing started and ended abruptly with the slamming of the door. I heard the door open once more.

“Mor you know we are just screwing with you. I really do want you to have a friend here, especially after everything that happened last year. Bring her over at some point so we can meet her. Love you cuz.” I had never thought a voice could be beautiful, but that was the only word the would do it justice. That voice would haunt my dreams.

I tried to forget the voice and focus on meeting my new roommate.

A small knock had me jumping up and running across the room. As I was reaching to open the door, it was opened for me and hit me in the face.

“Shit,” I huffed as I stumbled back holding my nose.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry.” I uncovered my hands to look at the girl who had just nailed me in the face. She was gorgeous. Her long golden hair was in loose ringlets, striking against her perfectly tanned skin. She was wearing a skin-tight red tank top with a very low v-neck paired with leather pants. Her eyes were big, brown, and beautiful, which matched the rest of her symmetrical face and gold jewelry adorned her neck, ears, and fingers.

“Well you’re hot,” I breathed. Her responding smile was so genuine I was sure that anyone who saw it would have to smile too.

She stood straight, hands on her hips, and asked, “How hard did I hit you?” I laughed at her response, because there was so no way she was oblivious to her attractiveness.

I finally stood up, the pain in my face fading, and extended my hand to her.

“My name is Feyre. It’s really nice to meet you.” Her soft manicured hand felt near fragile in my paint stained and blistered one.

“I’m Morrigan, but everyone calls me Mor. I’m gonna guess that you’re an art major?” She sent a pointed look toward my mountain of art supplies.

“Good guess. What about you?”

“I’m a second year phycology major. So be honest, how is your face?”

I laughed and shook my head. “It’s fine. I think I was shocked more than actually hurt.”

“I swear that will be the only time I physically hurt you. I’ve been told that I get on people’s nerves, so I can’t say anything about the your sanity.” We had only known each other for a couple of minutes, but I knew that I liked this girl. This was the type of girl I never got to be friends with growing up. For many many reasons.

She continued, “My friends will literally die when they hear this story.”

“Well if our relationship works out than it’ll also be a great story to tell the grandkids,” I said trying not to think of her cousins voice at the mention of her friends.

“Ha ha very funny. Actually we were all going out to—” She was cut off by my phone. I apologized and turned toward the sounds and found it lying on my bed.

Incoming Call from Tamlin

I looked at her with a cringe and explained, “It’s my boyfriend. I have nothing going on tomorrow. Would you maybe want to…” Her growing smile had me continuing. “Hang out with me?”

“Yes yes! I can show you around campus, the best shops in Velaris, and introduce you to my friends.” My face was hurting from my own smile. I nodded at her and my phone stopped going off. Even the fight I knew that would be inevitable from me not answering his phone call, wasn’t enough to stop me from smiling at my new roommate.

She turned and headed toward the door, but turned back before going through it.

“I’m really excited for tomorrow,” she said with a curt nod. Then she was out the door before I could return the sentiment.

I picked up my phone to redial my boyfriends number, but Mor poked her head in again.

“Oh and I think you’re hot too.” With a wink she was gone. I laughed out loud and all of a sudden I felt ready for the incoming year, because I now had a friend to help me through it.

—

After all of my research on Velaris, I came to one final conclusion: the nights were supposedly epic. And in the wake of a day spent unpacking, I was ready to see it for myself.

While I was tired from my non-fight with Tamlin, I also found myself restless. The whole conversation was Tam forcing himself to not be mad and instead just making our talk draining and fake. I finally told him that I needed to go and get some books for school so I could get off the phone.

Things would get better.

I forced the phone call out of my head and focused on something exciting and new.

Mor was gone before I could ask about the roof access in the building, but I decided to go and find out for myself. I walked into the stairwell and headed up. This building had ten floors, so I was breathless when I finally reached the top. An unmarked door came into my view and as I pushed it open a rush of fresh air filled my lungs.

The roof was bare, except for an air unit, two beach chairs, and a railing around the edge, but I found myself not looking at the roof at all.

The sky was incredible. The stars were brighter than I had ever seen, and the city was alive in front of me. I instantly found myself at the railing. The apartment building was on the edge of campus, so from one side all you could see was the school, but on the other side the city and ocean was the only thing in view. I couldn’t peel my eyes from the sight.

People were laughing and strolling through the cobblestone streets and lights of all different colors were coming out of windows and doors throughout the city.

The city was alive.

Throughout my life I had never felt at home or even wanting to be part of one, but I had this feeling that Velaris was made for me. Or maybe I was made for it.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” I jumped at the voice behind me. I somehow lost my footing and my feet flew forward. I landed on my butt with a thud.

“Holy fuck! You scared the shit out of me.” I started to turn toward the stranger while on the ground, ready to be livid. My heartbeat increased to unhealthy levels as my eyes met ones of violet. The man in front of me was something forged from my dreams. His black hair was made of the night sky above us and his chiseled features looked carved out of stone. He was wearing blue jeans and a grey crewneck, which seemed plain, but nothing on this man could ever be plain. While I couldn’t see his body, I knew that he was fit, he filled out his jeans like they were tailored for him.

He had slowly moved forward, like he was going toward a cornered animal, and when he was directly in front of me, he held a hand out to help me up. The laughter in his eyes and the smirk on his face took my focus away from his attractiveness and kick started my anger again.

“Don’t look so upset love, most girls fall head over heels for me.”

“Are you sure they aren’t falling while trying to run away?” His eyes lit up in challenge, but I dismissed him by jumping up and turning toward the city again.

He did not get the message and I felt him lounging on the rail next to me. I glanced to my left and he wasn’t staring toward the ocean, he was staring at me.

“Could you stop that,” I snapped. It was apparently the wrong thing to say. His eyes shone brighter than the stars above us.

“What is your name love?”

I put my elbows on the rail and leaned forward as I sighed out, “Feyre.”

“And why are you up here all alone Feyre?”

“That kinda sounded a little creepy.”

His laugh filled my soul and I smiled slightly. “I’ve never been called creepy.”

“And what do people usually call you?”

“Sexy, amazing, smart, endowed—”

“You’re certainly full of yourself,” I cut him off.

An ocean kissed wind blew my hair backwards. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the salty air. We fell into a comfortable silence. I’m not sure how long we stood there, watching the city from afar. I was unsure why I felt so safe, standing on a roof with a complete stranger.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw that I had a message from Tamlin.

i’m sorry for earlier baby. i love you and ill talk to you in the morning.

His apology made me think I was doing something wrong. I started to retreat and walk backwards toward the roof door. Purple eyes followed my movements with an unreadable expression.

“Are you running from me Feyre.” The smirk was gone and I felt a pang in my gut.

“No. It’s just getting late and I should probably get back downstairs.”

“I can walk you—”

“No!” I realized how loud it came out when his mouth turned downwards. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around…”

Oh my god I never asked his name. I grimaced, and inwardly smacked my palm on my forehead. I looked to him for assistance. He made long strides until he was inches from me, my back hitting the door. It was then I realized just how tall this man was, I was almost looking straight up.

“Rhysand,” was all he said.

“Okay nice to meet you. I have to go. Not that I’m scared. Or nervous.” Cringing as I rambled, I felt behind me for the door handle. When I found it, I pulled it. This backfired on me by pushing me forward into Rhysand.

Chest to chest, I hoped he couldn’t feel my heart beating. His breath caressed my cheek, I couldn’t help but shutter. Seeing his eyes widen and flash with desire, I awkwardly squeaked out a goodbye and all but sprinted down the stairs.

I didn’t stop running until I got to my apartment and then into my own room. I fell down onto the bed ready for this whole night to be over. I answered Tamlin’s text with a simple I love you, turned my phone off, and then I threw it on the ground.

You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.

I found myself repeating the sentence over and over again. I knew I had done nothing wrong, but I couldn’t help the feeling that I did. Moving to the ground, I sat below my window, opening it slightly, letting the sounds of the ocean lull me to sleep. The only thing calming enough to do so. That and the name of the man who I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Rhysand

Thanks for reading!!! xoxo

#sarah j maas #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #acotar #acowar #acomaf #Morrigan #au fanfiction #college au #velaris

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