#and always apologies these are messy and bare I tend to write as I fall asleep and its all about getting ideas out before anything else

[blissfulalchemist]

WIP Tag

Tagged awhile ago by @blackreaches and @leviiackrman to post some of what I’ve been working on and as a surprise to no one it’s still ff based. So have a little from three different pieces. Tagging: @belorage @florbelles @strafethesesinners @heroofpenamstan @dihardys @adelaidedrubman @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @themarcspector @indorilnerevarine @shellibisshe @jacrispea @shallow-gravy and anyone else that has something to share!

Let’s start with a little Carly and Thancred bonding....

Carly groans, letting head fall back far enough to see the man hanging from the vaulted stone ceiling, his eyes glowering, “I thought you two were a thing? She should be banging down the door by now.”

“Or they have some other plan that’s more covert,” Carly rolls her eyes, “they can tell when something’s a trap.”

“She can’t, not when her emotions get the better of her,” her feet find a spot on the old wooden table, “It was a fairly obvious trap when we invited her to dinner.”

“You mean when Zenos tried to infiltrate our group via possession of her body? Consider my invitation declined next time you decide to throw a dinner party.”

Her eyes narrow, sitting up and turning the chair to face him, “It wasn’t to infiltrate your little group. It was to make a point. Knock her down a few pegs, something she sorely needed. He was helping her.” Carly begins to pace, “She would have gotten much too reckless otherwise, forgetting just where she started, drunk on the power of protection from a god. She needs to be reminded just what it feels like to be me and you.”

“I wouldn’t start comparing us,” Thancred says with a smirk, “you might find yourself coming up short.”

She growls, “Were you gifted with anything special, Boy Toy? No, you weren’t. Hells you would’ve ended up dead a long time ago had you not gotten lucky. I wasn’t either,” she makes her way to the wall of hanging weaponry, fingers tracing along the edges of circular blades, “just a passion.”

“So you were always a Zenos fanatic like Asahi.”

The blade flies out of her hand past his face, just close enough to trim some of the white hair falling into his face, “Don’t insult me!”

“Then just what was it you had a passion for?”

She barks out a laugh, “Are you trying to coax the mundane backstory out of me to justify your hatred for me? Want to hear of how I was a spoiled brat of some high ranking officer or maybe how I slept with the right people to get far enough into the military to become my heart’s right hand? What story will make you hate me the most? Make you misunderstand me much like you misunderstood him.”

“He nearly killed her!” He yells, jerking against the restraints, “He nearly killed all of us at one time or another.”

She lets out a beastly growl, lunging at him with a knife pressed against his throat. “He saved her!” She grinds out, “Zenos saved her. Or did you forget that part?”

“You weren’t there to see the state he left her in after he finally brought about his precious death match.”

“And I didn’t get to see the state she left him in, because she couldn’t have been bothered to at least bring his body back.”

Here we see Sib bonding with Emet :)

“I don’t think anyone would call a wedding mundane, or are you a cynic about love?”

She rolls her eyes with a groan, “When making a comparison to events happening in the world at large many would classify a wedding as mundane and irrelevant.” Their eyes scan, both landing on the elder that the young man referenced earlier, “You know the boy dancing with Minfilia told us that they introduced new traditions tonight.”

“So?”

“Well they weren’t new per se. The last living elder has lived long enough to see the night sky return and with it traditions that he had only seen as a child. By bringing back the night we brought about a piece of these people’s culture that would have been lost without it.”

Emet-Selch crosses his arms, “It could still be lost in the future, so why does it matter to you so much?”

She shakes her head, fingers tracing along the former perfume bottle on her hip, “Nothing is lost so long as it’s remembered, I’d have thought you of all people to know that.” She chuckles, “I’m sure you were adverse to all the fun things back in your day but you must know what they were. What it looked like, sounded like, tasted like, the things that make places and people feel like they’re alive.” Emet looks away with a frown, Siberite tilting her head, “Did the Convocation ever hold things like galas? Or events where one of them made a fool of themselves? I think I would have loved to see Lahabrea do like a chicken dance attempt,” she performs a dance in front of him with a smile, “Something like this?” The old man stays silent, the creases in his brow deepening, Siberite’s smile starting to fade, “Surely you guys couldn’t have all been stiffs focused on knowledge and things pertaining to it?”

“Of course we weren’t,” he snaps finally, making her take a step back, “We had dances, art, and music that you could never dream of.”

She smiles, nodding, “You know, if I didn’t have such a distrust of you still, I’d ask if you show me something that you know. Even if it’s terrible because you’re a bad dance partner.”

“And you’re any better? I have yet to see you take to the dancing here.”

“I’m quite a good dancer actually.”

“Your first attempt would say otherwise.”

“Because it was meant to be embarrassing.” She clears her throat, shaking out her limbs, “Observe.” She raises her hands as her feet move in a square, spinning as if she had a partner, back rigid and porcelain smile stuck until she finally brings the demonstration to a close.

“You picked a Garlean dance? I didn’t think you’d have taken the time to learn such things.”

“Figured it might jog some memory of how you used to dance. As for learning my parents thought it good to contemplate a marriage into the empire. Guess I dodged a bullet there.”

And then have a little of more Anthea and Hythlodaeus because I love them

He stands, placing his mask back on before putting the pot in the bag once more, “Follow me. There’s a lovely little terrace two floors up.” Anthea follows one step behind, head down, “Is everything alright, Anthea?” He asks once they’ve entered the elevator, making their heart flutter when he uses their name. 

They nod, “Yes, I’m just lost in thought it seems.”

“A researcher like you, I find that unsurprising,” he chuckles. He weaves them through offices and hallways with ease towards the south end of the building. The glass door in front of them shows a small section of garden, a big maple tree casting enough shade to allow for one to have a comfortable meal at one of the tables underneath its leaves, and the beige stone stark against the dark colors of the building. When they step outside Anthea‘s breath catches taking in the little garden in full, with its two big trees, six tables for eating, four for games, and a number of benches with different levels of sun but all able to get the cool breeze that makes this place a paradise in the hotter months. They frown seeing a few spots that lack upkeep, something that doesn’t escape Hythlodaeus’ gaze. “Your specialty is flora, correct?”

“It tends to come out much better than fauna that’s for sure,” they let out a light laugh, “but that may be due to my lack of experience in committing to creating things from my own ideas.”

“It will come in time, but if it doesn’t then perhaps that is your gift to the star.”

They look up at him, eyebrows raised, “Can making mistakes truly be seen as a gift worthy to bring forth unto mankind?”

“Based on your record your ‘mistakes’ have all been seen fit to remain for testing and some have built off of them.” He guides them to sit at a partially covered game table, “If anything I’d dare say you’ve brought the most gifts to mankind as some things would not have come had it not been for your ‘mistakes’.”

Anthea’s shoulders relax, smile returning, Can it really be argued that I have already begun my road to contributing to the star?. “Why ask me such a thing to begin with?”

“Ask you….Oh! You looked at the flowers so sadly I was going to suggest we assist in their upkeep.”

“Oh,” they blush, “Right. I should have thought of that.”

“My creation magics I will admit are lacking and I believe it would be most helpful to have someone much more skilled at my side.” His smile is soft and reassuring, the heat from his hand warming theirs as the two have accidentally placed them too close to one another. Anthea doesn’t say anything about it and simply nods to answer his request for their assistance, “Ah, wonderful!”

“I won’t be cutting into any of your other work will I?”

#look i don't regret falling into this hole and i'm making it everyone else's problem #my wip tag #ffxiv #and always apologies these are messy and bare I tend to write as I fall asleep and its all about getting ideas out before anything else

[illneverrecover]

make it right - epilogue | kth & knj (M)

➛pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader  ft. Kim Namjoon x reader ➛summary: He had offered to be there with you when you read it, which you had considered. He has always been supportive of you and your emotions, and you knew you could rely on him to be your rock through this, too, should you need it. But there was a little piece of you that felt it was important to be willing to face this alone; willing to face the consequences and fallout of your actions without the crutch of your current love.  ➛genre: starting out musician!AU, smut, angst. SMANGST. ➛word count: 5327 ➛rating: explicit/mature ➛warnings: mentions of previous infidelity, mentions of mature situations, a lot of talk about healing and self reflection, also about self growth, cursing, previous installments contain smut.  ➛notes: Well this was a long, long time coming. If you’ve stuck around this long - I appreciate you more than you will know!  Many apologies for the wait, but damn, was life being a bitch for a hot minute. This was very cathartic for me to write for many reasons, and I hope you enjoy! Just to be clear, this series isn’t here to romanticize infidelity, or make light of it -- but instead show how things aren’t always so black and white in real life. In reality, there are numerous, messy shades of grey, and things can become complicated very easily. This is barely edited and completely unbeta’ed, as I’m trying to be more authentic and less of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing as a personal goal in 2023. It’s been holding me back for far too long, and I’ve missed being creative. Be gentle, and let me know what you think! (P.S. - if you pick up on the TS reference, pls know I’m giving you a forehead kiss)  ➛song: everythinggoes (with Nell) - RM, NELL & Girl of My Dreams (with SUGA) - Juice WRLD, SUGA, BTS  ➛tagging: @jimins-ass-eater, @thatlongspringnight​ ➛Chapter 1 ➛ Chapter 2  ➛ Chapter 3

Everything, everything, everything goes 

Time passes. Despite change, despite everything moving and falling apart and rebuilding again, time always passes. It is unavoidable, it is necessary. It is healing simply in its existence.  

Namjoon sees that now more than anything. 

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year – a year since you walked out, since everything changed. Since his actions and inactions had finally caught up to him, and so had the consequences. 

He wanted to blame you. It would be easier to do so, he thought in the beginning, considering how everything fell apart. But it wouldn’t be honest, and it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He thought himself a good man, after all, and good men accept the fallout from their misdeeds. They dig deep and do some introspection and maybe see a therapist, and they try to be better.

He wanted to be better. 

It wasn’t easy. Looking into the depths of his mind and soul and inspecting his worst flaws is a raw, painful thing at any time, but especially after what had happened. He meditated more, channeled his feelings into his writing in the studio, and continued to work on himself. His relationship with the new producer, Mina, continued to blossom, but this time without the tainting of his indiscretions, without the shame and guilt. Namjoon found what grew between them was more beautiful this way; tending to the soil and ensuring proper watering allowed him to be his sincere, natural self, giving way to a love that came easy. 

It was hard when Yoongi left the studio, though Namjoon would be lying if he said he didn’t see it coming. It was on good terms, thanks to both of them being pragmatic despite their friendship, but it still stung. Another consequence to his transgressions, another person affected by his shortcomings. Yoongi had told him he was thinking of opening his own studio for a while, but Namjoon was almost positive the incident (and the aftermath) is what accelerated his timeline and had him leaving a few months later. 

Taehyung’s resignation had been less surprising, though equally professional. He offered to finish out his contract or to leave immediately – not wanting to leave the studio hanging, but also knowing the position this was putting Namjoon in. Namjoon could appreciate the gesture, even through the betrayal, and allowed the younger man to finish up some tracks and part ways amicably. It wasn’t long before Taehyung’s name was being released as Yoongi’s first talent, and though it felt like someone had punched him in the chest, Namjoon couldn’t help but be proud. 

He would always support them, even if they didn’t know it.

He poured himself into his work,  into his music. His first passion, his first love. She always welcomed him with warm arms, always gave him confidence and solitude to work through whatever melodies and cacophonies were clouding his mind. And as he worked through self reflection and discovery, she was there to help him work through the tougher emotions, the painful feelings, until he had a full fledged album. A raw and new piece of his soul, ready to share with the world, whenever Namjoon was ready to be vulnerable. 

So much had changed in a year. He isn’t sure if this present version of himself would even recognize the Namjoon from before, the person that he was. But he knows he wants to continue to impress that version of himself, and make him proud. 

He was ready to share his music — and himself — with the world,  but before he could, he needed to do one last thing. 

Taehyung wasn’t sure why Namjoon had wanted to see him.

His mind began racing the minute he received the text, saw the name that he hadn’t had the guts to ever delete or block from his phone. It had been almost a year since he had last been in communication with the man, when he had put in his notice at the studio.

So much had changed in a year. He had signed with Yoongi, worked extremely hard in the new studio,  and was making music he was really, really proud of. And to top it all off, he was doing it with you by his side, out in the open, for the world to see. No longer having to hide his love was one of the best things to ever happen to Taehyung, and he’d never tire of basking you in it. 

But Namjoon had asked to meet for coffee, and Taehyung couldn’t think of a reason to say no. If anything, he felt like he owed his old friend - his hyung, his brother - the time and space to say whatever it was he wanted to him. It was the least he could do, considering. 

Taehyung doesn’t regret loving you, but the guilt still gnaws at him from time to time over how things went down with Namjoon. It was you who would always reassure him that if anyone was to blame, it was you, and would help him work through his feelings. 

He had thought about reaching out to Namjoon in the months following the aftermath – to apologize, to explain where he was coming from, how genuine his feelings were for you, that he never meant to hurt him – but realized that this would only be to assuage his own shame and guilt, not because it would be anything that Namjoon actually needed to hear. That didn’t seem fair to put on him, after everything else, and so he vowed to keep his apologies to his journal for the time being. Resolved that if Namjoon wanted closure, he would let him know. 

Taehyung  hopes that’s what this meeting is about, if he’s being honest with himself. He has run this scenario through his head a million times, and out of all the conclusions he could reach, it would be the ideal one. Certainly, Namjoon would have every right to ask him to meet up if only to have a chance to give him a solid sucker punch in the face, and Taehyung wouldn’t be able to fault him for that. 

But despite knowing that things will never be the same, he would at least like for there to be peace between the two of them, for your sake if nothing else.

The coffee shop is spacious, well lit by the copious windows adorning the front of the building, and fairly quiet, considering its size. Mismatched plush couches and chairs decorated the room alongside coffee tables of varying shapes and forms, surrounded by walls lined with bookshelves stuffed to the brim. It is a very Namjoon place to pick, Taehyung thinks, deciding to peruse the menu and order before searching for his friend. 

He finds Namjoon in a back corner, tucked in an alcove that is built into the bookshelves, the only booth in the entire shop. He has one hand cupped around a mug of hot liquid, the other scrolling his phone, not seeing Taehyung approach.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung slides himself into the booth opposite him. 

“Hey,”

Namjoon’s eyes flick up, surprise on his face quickly melting into a familiar grin. “Hey, Taehyung. How are you? You look well,”

Taehyung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders relaxing at the elder’s tone. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m doing well. How about you? You look great,” he compliments, realizing that he means it. Namjoon has more life and color in his face than Taehyung remembered seeing in years, a new softness in his eyes that makes him seem lighter, more free. “You look happy.”

“Thank you, I’m getting there,” Namjoon chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “It’s been a lot of work, but it’s been worth it.”

For a moment, they just smile and nod at each other, a comfortable and familiar silence stretching between them. There’s  so much that Taehyung wants to ask, that he wants to say, but he follows Namjoon’s lead, instead sipping on his hot chocolate while he waits for the other man to speak.

“So, there’s some things that I need to say to you. And it might be a lot, and I’ll probably talk for a stupid amount of time, but I’m asking for you to listen ‘til the end, if you could,” Namjoon pauses then, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he winces. “If it’s too much, or if you don’t have the time for this, then I understand completely, but–”

“No, of course I have time, it’s okay. I want to hear what you have to say.” Taehyung reassures, giving him a nod. “Whatever you need.”

Namjoon smiles, taking a deep breath. 

“When I first met Y/N, she was… the brightest light,” he looks down at his drink, face softening. “So bright that she drew everyone to her like moths to flame. I was so drawn to her, so attracted to her light. That first night at the karaoke bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She was shining so bright, and everyone was watching. I normally wouldn’t approach someone in a bar, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. I knew I’d kick myself if I didn’t go over, or if someone else did first, so I finally went up to her. Told her some corny joke, and she laughed hysterically.” He laughs to himself, and Taehyung smiles. That sounds like the you he knows, too. “And the moment she laughed, I was instantly hooked. I asked for her number, about floating out of that bar when she kissed me. We became inseparable. Spent all of our time together, and the rest happened quickly. I’m sure you know how she is – it’s so easy to get wrapped up in her warmth, her fire.”

Taehyung dips his chin, his lips curling  into a smirk against his volition. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” 

Namjoon’s jaw flexes at those words, otherwise he seems to have no reaction, swallowing before he continues. 

“After she moved in, things were good – comfortable, a little predictable, but good. I felt safe and confident,  knowing that she was always there, always around when I needed a bit of that light. And eventually, that comfort became complacency.” Namjoon shakes his head, drawing another breath. “I started taking advantage of the fact that she would be there when I needed. I got wrapped up in my music, and instead of trying to bring her into that with me, or share that piece of myself, I shut her out. Told myself she wouldn’t understand. Convinced myself that it would be okay once my hard work paid off and she could see the final product. But looking back, it was all excuses to be selfish and to do whatever I wanted, knowing that she loved me enough to put up with it.” 

“I’m not proud of myself for that. There’s thousands, millions of different ways that you can kill the person you love. The slowest way is not loving them enough, not giving them enough of your time – but not having the strength to let them go. She tried talking to me, telling me what she needed from me, begging me to spend time with her, and instead of being strong enough to let her go, I kept making promises I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep. It was fucked up, what I did. I just- I wasn’t ready to lose that fire,”

Taehyung didn’t trust his voice, so instead he nods, easily empathizing with the older man. He intimately knows that fire that Namjoon spoke of, understood its siren call, the unbelievable warmth it is to be loved by you. But at the same time, he realizes how much Namjoon’s admission gets under his skin – knowing that you were in that much pain, remembering seeing you suffer, watching you fall apart and try to hide it from everyone – it angers him, hearing Namjoon own to the fact that he knew he was hurting you, but didn’t walk away.

He must not be schooling  his face as well as he thinks,  because Namjoon sighs as he rubs his face with his hand. “I get it. Trust me, I know it wasn’t okay. But when you’ve been in the dark for so long, finding someone like Y/N – you want to be loved by her, want just a piece of that for yourself. I’m not justifying my actions, but hopefully explaining where my mind was at the time,” he continues, taking a sip of his drink. “I was already not being the man she needed, already not meeting her expectations. And when Mina started at the studio, and started helping me with some of the tracks… I hate to say it, but it was easy to let myself get distracted. I was so wrapped up in myself and what was going on with me, I didn’t see just how far away she had slipped - not only emotionally, but physically, intimately. It seemed like it went from incessant texts about when I was coming home, begging to spend time with me, to… nothing at all. She went radio silent, started going out of the house more, started hanging around you guys more.  I remember thinking to myself, ‘Well at least it seems like she’s found something to entertain herself, now she won’t always worry about me’. How clueless could I be? So fucking stupid, and selfish.” 

Namjoon gives the younger man a moment to process his words before he continues. “After everything went down, I… I’m not proud of this, but I got drunk one night, and I kinda begged some information off of Jimin,” Namjoon winces again, casting his eyes down. “It’s not Jimin’s fault, I think he honestly just felt bad for me, so please don’t be upset with him. He really didn’t tell me much, but he confirmed that… the two of you,” he gestures with his hands towards Taehyung, “ started… being together on her birthday.”

Taehyung feels his heart drop in his chest, his pulse racing at the admission, unsure of why the fact that Namjoon now knew this piece of information makes him feel a bit more ashamed. 

“Which means, it started way after she had ‘the talk’ with me,  way after she began to pull away and I just let her go – hell, encouraged it, even.  When she showed up at the apartment the day I found out, Y/N kept telling me it didn’t matter what happened, or who’s fault it was… that we had both done hurtful things and it was time to move on. And I think even with her saying that, even as she was breaking things off with me, she was still trying to protect me in a way. Still trying to shoulder all of the blame, especially because of the affair. But the truth is, I don’t blame her for any of it. I blame myself.”

He meets Taehyung’s gaze straight on. “I may not have physically cheated, and sure, she may have been the first to step out, but what choice did I leave her? I abandoned her long before she got together with you. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I woke up one day and I stopped choosing her, and started only choosing myself. And the worst part is, she fought to try and fix things between us, and it was like I had blinders on.  I still couldn’t stop choosing myself. I was so damn cocky, so sure of myself…” He swallows thickly. “She still fought, still chose me over and over, so it never crossed my mind that she would cheat. But honestly, I don’t blame her. She wasn’t being taken care of the way she should, the way she deserved.”

Taehyung is surprised to see tears welling in Namjoon’s eyes; the sheer amount of emotion he is willing to share in front of him shocking overall. Namjoon always keeps things so close to the chest.

“And then you swooped in and saved the day,” Namjoon continues, giving the younger man a wry grin. “Again, I get it. I can understand why you were drawn to her, why you were drawn to each other. I was mad, at first. Jealous mostly, if I was being honest with myself, but that’s because I’ve always been a bit possessive. But the more I sat with my thoughts, the more I realized that I was… relieved. Relieved to know that she had someone during that time, that she was being taken care of in all the ways that I failed to. Relieved to know that it was with someone that I know and trust to truly have her best interest at heart. That if it was anyone, it was you.”

Now it’s Taehyung’s turn to have his smile turn watery and soft. “Namjoon, I-”

“No, you promised to let me finish, remember?”

He doesn’t wait for confirmation before speaking again. “I know it sounds crazy, but that's why I asked you to come here. I wanted..” he trails away, hands fidgeting in his lap until his eyes snap to Taehyung. “I wanted to thank you, for taking care of her, for loving her. The way she should be… the way I couldn’t.” He doesn’t hide his tears this time, instead letting one trail down his cheek. “And if it’s alright with you, I have basically written down what we spoke about today, and I would like to give this letter to her - along with the offer of a meet up, if she’d like. Before the album comes out.” 

That gets Taehyung’s attention. “What do you mean? Is there something she should be worried about, or-?”

“N-No! No, not at all, nothing like that,” Namjoon waves off the concern with a hand. “But there are some emotional songs that I worked on after the break up, and it feels like the right thing to do would be to give her the chance to hear them first, before everyone else.”

There is nothing that comes  to Taehyung’s mind that would be a good argument against that - Namjoon is right, it is the courteous thing to do, to allow her the privacy of that moment before the rest of the world had a chance to dissect it into a million pieces. 

“And I didn’t want to reach out without talking to you first, out of respect for you both. It didn’t feel right approaching her directly… again, I want to give her time to process, you know?” 

Taehyung nods in agreement, appreciating the foresight. “Thank you for that, I think that will mean a lot to her.” 

“So you’ll give it to her? The letter?”

There is a part of Taehyung that didn’t want to, if he was being honest, didn’t know if it’s worth reopening the old wounds that you had worked so hard to close. That chapter of your life was something you worked hard to move past, and though you made it clear you wished Namjoon well, you hadn’t asked to meet up with him in the year since the split. There really hasn’t been a need to, once you got your things out of the apartment and moved into Taehyung’s place. 

But if he makes that choice for you, would it be any better than what Namjoon had done? Would he be any better? 

“Of course. I can’t promise she’ll want to meet, but – I’ll give it to her, I promise.” 

Relief sags Namjoon’s shoulders, and he lowers his head in gratitude. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. And thank you again, for meeting with me today. I promise my only intention here is closure, and respect.” 

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say something now?”

“Taehyung, you really don’t have to, there isn’t anything to say–”

“Just let me get this off my chest, please,” Taehyung begs, a hint of desperation in his gaze. “I know this probably doesn’t mean much, and I completely understand why… but for the record, I am so sorry that I hurt you. I wish it hadn’t come to that.” 

“Come on, Tae, like I said-”

“Let me finish.” Taehyung raises his voice slightly, just enough that Namjoon knows he’s serious. “I sincerely mean that. I don’t regret being with Y/N, and I won’t pretend to. I really do love her, and your words and… approval,” he chokes on the word, as if the marvel of it isn’t lost on him, “mean more to me than I think you can understand. But I really hate that you were hurt in the process, regardless of what was going on at the time.”

Namjoon waits, taking another sip of his drink to ensure Taehyung is finished before speaking again. 

“Apology accepted. I appreciate you saying that, really. But I mean… what would you have done differently? No matter what choices were made, the outcome was inevitable. She was never going to tolerate my shit forever, and it was the catalyst. Considering I wasn’t exactly innocent in my behaviors, either, I get it. It wasn’t okay, what any of us did, but I get it.” 

The world is never as black and white as we would like it to be, never as quickly and neatly explained as the human brain would prefer. There are many shades of the foggy grays and dark misty blacks and every level of fading ink in between, a messy cacophony of varying gradients. If anyone can understand that, it’s Taehyung. 

“That’s probably the best way to put it. It wasn’t okay, but I get it. What you did, what we all did. But I do think people are capable of change, if they truly want it. And it sounds like you’ve come a long way,” Taehyung gives a wide grin then, feeling the lightest he has in a long time. “ I wish you nothing but luck and success in your journey - both with your love life and with your music. I genuinely mean that, Joon. We’ll always be rooting for you.” 

Namjoon matches the younger man's carefree smile, any remaining tension easing away from his posture. “Thanks, bro. I’m always rooting for you guys, too. All of you - Yoongi included. If you ever need anything, even just some ears or a hype man, I’m here.”

More pleasantries and gratitudes are exchanged before Namjoon is standing, pulling Taehyung into a quick embrace before gearing up to  leave the coffee shop, holding up a buzzing phone in explanation. “Sorry, I gotta take this - thanks again!”

Everything changes, and everything stays the same.

You aren’t sure how long you stare at the letter before you decide to open it. It must be a few hours at least, because Taehyung had given it to you in the bright light of early afternoon, and now the sky was turning faded pinks and oranges, sun ready to rest for the day. 

He had offered to be there with you when you read it, which you had considered. He has always been supportive of you and your emotions, and you knew you could rely on him to be your rock through this, too, should you need it. 

But there was a little piece of you that felt it was important to be willing to face this alone; willing to face the consequences and fallout of your actions without the crutch of your current love. 

Your friends had rallied around you after the initial fallout, surprisingly, and though you weren’t sure you had deserved that, you certainly appreciated them for it. They gave you the confidence to keep moving forward, to battle with your demons, and you would always be grateful to them for showing up in your time of need. 

You are stronger now, more healed than you were when you had last seen Namjoon a year ago. Not fully healed, because healing isn’t linear, but you are working on it and yourself. An excellent therapist had been the start of the self love journey, and it was with her help that you were able to confront some difficult truths and soothe old wounds, feeling more secure in your skin than you had in years. 

You had even started working on your music again, though you could say that was Yoongi’s fault if anything, since he kept saying he was tired of you lounging around his studio for free. He had practically shoved you into the booth one day, asking for you to warm up and lay a raw track for some backing vocals to earn your keep, and you had complied easily. It wasn’t the worst thing he could have you doing there, and it soothed you to be able to work with music, even in a small capacity.

And Taehyung.

Taehyung had been amazing through it all;  your grounding peace during the storm, your home in the form of a person. His devotion and endless understanding and love was more than you could dream of, more than you ever thought you would know, and you can’t help but to feel like the luckiest person in the world to get to experience it.

Picking up the letter, you take a deep breath, centering yourself before folding it open, eyes quickly scanning the words awaiting you. 

He wasn’t mad, wasn’t angry. Instead, he was apologizing, giving explanations for his actions while telling you  not to blame yourself, offering to meet up to talk things out if you’d like. Or if you didn’t want to talk, to at least get a copy of his new album so that you could listen to it before it dropped, since there were some personal songs included that he thought you may want to hear in private.

Overall, it was a short note; but kind, considerate. A softer side of the Namjoon you used to remember, from the early days. 

You didn’t need to think about how you wanted to proceed, instead picking up your phone and sending a text to your ex-fiancé.

It had been you that insisted on meeting some place outside, wanting to keep the encounter quick and pleasant. You weren’t sure how he was going to reply to your text letting him know that you were willing to meet for the album, but not to talk, but in standard Namjoon style, he didn’t seem bothered. Taehyung told you he supported your decision no matter what, which you knew would be his response, but you truly didn’t feel the need to continue to hash this out. You had both apologized and moved on, and the past was in the past. 

You certainly appreciate his dedication to his own healing, and can empathize with the need of writing a letter for closure, but that was enough for you. You didn’t need anything else in order to forgive him. 

You had forgiven him long ago. 

You and Taehyung made plans to listen to the album together, knowing that you would want his warmth and comfort both physically and emotionally during, and you let that thought comfort you as you walk towards the meeting point, eyes scanning the park for the taller man. 

A tap on your shoulder has you turning, peering up at a dimpled grin. 

“Hey,”

You give him a shy smile. “Hi, Joon.”

He has a small manila envelope in his hands, your name scrolled in black sharpie on the front, and his fingers tap against the material a few times before he thrusts it towards you. 

“Well, here it is. It’s a USB, but it has all the songs plus the album concept art. I hope you like it, but uh, even if you don’t, I thought it was only right to let you hear it before everyone else does.”

His awkwardness makes you want to giggle, but you stifle the urge, not wanting to make him feel self conscious. Taking the parcel from his hands, you slide it in your bag before glancing back up at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate that. I’m sure I will like it. Your music has always been amazing.”

The tips of Namjoon’s ears start to redden, and he scoffs bashfully. “Ahh, you gotta warn me before you say nice things to me, I’m not prepared.”

You laugh then, his deeper chuckle joining in after a few moments, and it felt good to laugh so carefree with him again. Something you didn’t think you would ever have the chance to do. 

“Well, it was good to see you, Joon. Thanks for this,” you tap your bag twice, “I’m excited to listen.” 

“Thanks. It was good to see you as well, you look great. Really h-happy,” Namjoon stutters over his words, the sentiment rushing out, “It’s what you deserve - to be happy.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, a piece of your soul healed by the words you didn’t know you needed to hear out loud. 

“I am really happy,” you confirm, unable to hide your smile. “Like, almost disgustingly happy, it’s pretty annoying.” 

You laugh, but this time he doesn’t join you.

“Good.”

And before you can think of how to reply, he’s gone, faded back into the bustle of the crowd like he was never there.

Taehyung already has your favorite wine opened by the time you arrive home, a glass placed in your hand once you walk through the door. He’s all easy smiles, nonchalant as he asks about the meeting, steadfast and attentive as he listens while putting the finishing touches on dinner. 

He’s made one of your comfort meals, and you spoon it into bowls before carrying them into his office-slash-studio, cozying up on his lounger before putting the thumb drive into the computer. He queues it up, sliding the mouse closer to his reach as he settles beside you, pulling a blanket to cover your laps. 

You hand him his bowl, and he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s quick, but there’s heat underneath the gentle pressure of his mouth. 

“Are you ready?”

You look into his warm gaze, the affection evident in the soft way he drinks you in. He has one hand cupped around his bowl, the other on your thigh under the blanket, giving reassuring squeezes as the silence ebbs on. 

It’s not that you were afraid of what you would hear, or that you thought Namjoon would do anything to hurt you. But you know hearing your previous relationship's downfall from his point of view could bring up some lingering pain, and you wanted to be able to process and work through it so you could continue to heal.

It’s what he deserved, what you all deserved.

The old version of you wouldn’t be able to handle this, certainly not next to someone like Taehyung. Wouldn’t be able to bear the vulnerability, or having a witness to the potential flood of emotions that could come at any moment. But over this past year, you’ve learned that you are worthy of a love that makes you feel safe enough to be your authentic self - and in turn to allow your true self to be loved. 

You knew that you were safe, here under the blanket on the loveseat in Taehyung’s cozy little studio, next to the man you love. 

“I’m ready.” 

Just like the night leaves and the morning comes The spring leaves and summer comes, but Just like the flowers and summer sunshine Everything must be hurt Breathe the world The air in my lungs is full of cold air I want to run away From long hours of pain and dullness

 Everyday I pray (everyday I pray) That I may become a slightly better adult And everyday I stay (everyday I stay) People die with their pain one day We can not be eternity in dream Words like "Cheer up" can not be real Instead of plausible words It hope it goes like a wind (Everything, everything, everything goes Everything everything else goes)

#taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenario #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #taehyung fanfic #my writing #fic: make it right #fic: mir #fic: make it right epilogue #overly affectionate demon #bamjoon

[akitokihojo]

Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?” Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #Inukag fanfiction #stay #akitokihojo #hurt/comfort #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #Inukag fanfic #Inukag fic

[oinkz]

bound to you

— you share an umbrella with your ex, oikawa. (gn!reader)

— angst, harassment (not by oikawa or the reader), light fluff, 3.5k words, very experimental so i apologize if it’s a bit.. messy

A dark cloud from outside the classroom window stretches across the canvas of the sky, its presence mighty and foreboding. Any minute now, it could start pouring, and that known fact is making it more and more difficult to focus on your calculus test as time lets on.

Just one more question. That’s it. And then, you can finally speed home, tend to your aching head, and take a nap, even. After the awfully long day you’ve had, you think you deserve it.

It was a cliche sort of day, not completely terrible, but it still rendered you exhausted nonetheless. You had woken late, skipped breakfast, ran into someone who was holding an iced coffee in their hand, and then strutted the school parameters in a very obviously stained uniform. (In the end, you’re just glad that the coffee wasn’t scorching hot.)

You had wanted to return home immediately after the last bell rang, but you needed to make up a test you were absent for last week. This brings you to now, in the midst of the very last question. 

With whatever wisdom and knowledge you can muster, you power through, tapping through your calculator and recalling that god-forsaken unit circle.

What even is a unit circle? You wouldn’t know, you’re merely doing enough to pass.

All you know is that one, this test wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be (thank goodness for that) and two, you didn’t have enough time to check the weather this morning. Of course, the one day you failed to check is the day the weather gods decide to hurl you with a storm.

You had forgotten your umbrella. And once you complete this math problem, you’ll have to end your school day in the most cliche way possible - with the walking through pouring rain after a particularly hard day. You see it all the time in movies and books. 

‘Life imitates art,’ they say. And it sure does.

You don’t take long before you can input your final answer to the calculator and write it down on your paper. You even box the number in, making it nice and pretty for the teacher to read through your messy work. Maybe it’s to be generous for the sake of being generous - you know, to make your teacher’s job a little easier. Or maybe it’s to lend some good karma your way, in hopes of postponing the upcoming storm for another thirty minutes. You’re a little desperate, to say the least.

“Done?” 

Speak of the devil. Your head shoots upward to find said teacher.

You merely nod, handing her the paper.

Then, you’re on your own for the remaining minutes in school. You wish your teacher a good evening, and then wander through the empty halls to find your locker.

5pm is a quiet hour for Aoba Johsai. At this point, most students have made their way home - even the ones with extracurriculars. It was a little unsettling when you first stayed late, but you’ve grown used to it.

Long were the days when you would stay in the gym till late evening to help the boys in the volleyball club. They’re memories you wish you could look at bitterly, but you simply can’t. Because in the end of the day, you were happy. So happy.

But just because it was happy, doesn’t mean it was meant to be.

You take a sharp breath inwards, hoping to put an end to this - this reminiscing. You’ve moved on now, and you’re okay. Everything is just dandy without them. Without the supposed love of your life.

You’re taking books out of your locker when you hear it - the small roar of thunder and heavy pitter patter of pouring rain. For the tenth time today, a sigh falls from your mouth. Certainly, you’re not surprised, but it still sucks nonetheless.

You just want one good thing to happen today. One.

Now, you stand at the school entrance, a low frown weighing down the corners of your lips.

There’s no avoiding it - you have to get home somehow... but still. Mother Nature can be so, so cruel. Was it not enough that you walked around school with a dark coffee stain on your blouse?

You’re so busy moping that you don’t see the painfully familiar presence quietly making his way beside you, a subtle, yet adoring smile on his lips.

“What are you waiting for?” He wonders, staring at the sky alongside with you, eyes genuinely curious.

Your heart stops for what feels like minutes.

Because you know that voice. Everyone does, but especially you.

It’s the same voice that lulled you to sleep when insomnia was eating you away. The one you’ve heard sing far too many times thanks to those long gone karaoke nights. The one that whispered ‘I love you’s into your ear when you felt completely, and utterly alone.

That voice.

“It’s raining,” you reply bluntly, wanting to end this conversation as soon as possible. It’s not because you hate him per se - in fact, it’s quite the opposite. But you would rather not be anywhere close to him. 

“Where’s your umbrella?” He asks. It’s a simple question, but it’s so perceptive. Just like him. 

Of course he remembers how you always check the weather every morning. Of course he remembers how you had always - without fail - remembered to bring an umbrella. 

You hate the hope that swells up in your stomach. And you so badly want to hate him, too.

“I—“ You start, shakily. “It’s been a long day.” 

He hums. Whether it’s in agreement, or to say he can tell, you’re not sure.

“C’mon then.”

Dumbfounded, you’re not sure what “c’mon, then” even means. You hope he’s not implying...?

Reluctantly, you look over to him, and he’s waving an umbrella in his hand.

Oh, no. You can’t.

You shake your head rapidly. “It’s okay, really—“

“Please?” his voice is painfully quiet.

He’s practically begging for you to look him in the eye.

And who were you to resist? He’s always been difficult to say no to. 

You know that more than anyone.

So, when Oikawa makes his way outside, opens his umbrella, and gestures for you to get under...

You do, despite the pure melancholy that swallows you whole.

One year ago.

You don’t remember how it got to this point. Had you known that dating someone would have so many consequences, you would’ve been a little more careful with your feelings.

Falling for Tooru was easy, but terribly dangerous. You learnt this the hard way.

What started out with cute little love notes adorned all over your locker ended with handwritten threats telling you to.....

You can’t even think about it because it had brought tears to your eyes the first time. You’d think one insulting note about your appearance was enough, but it had worsened - even when you were trying hard to stay optimistic. Soon enough, you had to take jabs about your skills, your mannerisms, and little by little, they became daily reminders of how every single thing about you will always fall short compared to your beloved, Tooru.

“.... I can’t do this anymore,” You say, your voice barely above a breath.

Oikawa’s limbs immediately lock in place. He looks up and sees the sad look in your eyes, the way they glisten with tears. No, no, no...

“Surely, you don’t mean...?” He can’t even finish his own sentence, because the thought is too scary.

But somehow, you finish for him. Just like you’ve always finished each other’s sentences, you’ve managed to finish this one, too. Except it doesn’t make him laugh and kiss your lips in utter adoration. This time, it’s gut-wrenching.

“Yes, I want to break up, Tooru.” Your words are firm and sure, but you... you are anything but.

Tooru has to prevent this somehow, but he’s not sure how. 

How do you tell someone to stay?

When staying risks their safety?

When staying puts them in pain?

As out-of-worldly as his skills may be, Oikawa Tooru is only human. You have brought him too much joy for it just to end like this.... With some nobody who can’t keep their jealousy to themselves. And despite the pain you’re going through, he wants you to stay.

So, he brings his hands up to your cheeks, taking you in in your entirety.

“Y/n...” He pleads with his eyes, and it’s the most desperate you’ve seen him. Perhaps it’s because deep down, he knows he’s being selfish.

You swallow the lump in your throat, unable to form the right words in your mouth. Silently, you wrap your arms around his waist, so painfully slow, as if it was the last time you were going to hold him. As if to say sorry.

Sorry for what? You never did anything wrong.

He doesn’t bother to hug you back, because if he does, he’ll lose. Hugging you back will mean he’s also saying goodbye, and he’s not. He’s only just getting started with you. “We can’t...”

“We have to,” You force out, and he hates how absolutely rigid your words come out to be.

He shakes his head in denial. “No, we don’t.”

Your patience is running thin at this point. Because in truth, you tried. You always had, for him.

When the first note came, you didn’t tell him until weeks later. For months and months, you had put on a front to save his feelings and yours. At the time, pretending seemed like the best option.

But it wasn’t, because little did you know, pretending was a gateway to even more issues you had no idea was taking root in you. At this point, you’re not sure if you even know yourself anymore.

If you can’t understand yourself, does Tooru? Does he really love you, or does he just love the facade you put on?

Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t matter, because either way, you’re tired and in dire need of some healing. As terribly cruel as it may be, breaking up and focusing on yourself is truly the only way to be okay again. You may not be okay right now - if anything, the pain is excruciating - but the time will come. You have that much hope, at least.

“Yes, we do, Tooru,” you push onwards, pulling away from your embrace with a deep and sad frown tainting your features. “I love you - I really do - but I can’t keep pretending everything is okay. Those notes hurt, but that’s just the least of it... I just... need to be alone.”

“I’m sorry,” you finish with a sigh. He can’t even bring himself to ask why, because next thing he knew, you were out the door, making your way back home.

But what even was home at that point? Tooru was yours. Yet somehow, the foundation of love and passion wasn’t enough to keep it afloat.

Now.

“How are you?”

These are the first words that are spoken after ten long minutes of silence. Tooru - no, Oikawa is uncharacteristically awkward as he says them.

You’re not sure how to respond.

Had it been anyone else, you would’ve bluntly replied with a “fine”, but the question catches you off guard. When was the last time Oikawa Tooru asked you how you were?

So, so long ago.

It was never ‘how are you’ with him, but rather, ‘do you think aliens are real’ or ‘would you ever date an alien’. Or even, ‘do you know how much I love you’ or ‘what kind of house do you want to live in in the future’.

How did someone so near and dear to you become such a stranger?

You huff out a sigh, stopping your train of thought before it wanders off to somewhere it shouldn’t be.

“I’m okay,” you answer, holding back your tongue. You don’t even bother to ask ‘how are you’ back, because if you did, he’d probably answer with something so blunt and distant, you wouldn’t know how to react.

Yet, somehow, he doesn’t. Instead, he prods further, practically forcing a conversation on you. You’re not sure whether your thankful for it, or if it bothers you. No one likes an awkward silence, anyway.

“Do you still take the same way home?” He asks curiously, but his eyes are far-off, trained on the droplets of water that surround you two.

You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of question is that? “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I found a shortcut one day.”

He did?

How did he just find a shortcut? Out of nowhere, too?

“I know what you’re thinking.” He sighs, but it’s not out of irritation - at least, not towards you. “But I just.... one day, I was just walking around town and at the time, I was still hung up on you.”

“... So you found a shortcut to my house while that happened?”

“Yeah, basically,” he laughs at how foolish he sounds. Why is he even saying this?

“You can’t just tell me that,” you say, a little too coldly for his liking. “We broke up.”

“You broke up with me,” he argues, and you swear, somehow, the rain gets louder. “I wanted nothing to do with it. Y’know, I would’ve heard you out if you just talked to me. We were best friends, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to say?” You stop in your tracks completely. “I know that at the time, I should’ve let you speak, but rationality doesn’t matter when you get daily notes telling you how ugly you are. I just needed it to end, somehow.”

Oikawa stops in his tracks, too. You’re no longer under the umbrella with him, instead you’re willingly getting soaked by the rain. From afar, this scene probably looks straight out of a drama.

He turns to face you in all your glory. Hair wet,  eyes glassy, and makeup-stained cheeks. It’s a beautiful, tragic mess.

“Did you believe anything they said about you?” He questions, so softly he’s not sure you can hear.

But you do. You always do.

“Sometimes,” you answer. It’s the first time you’ve been honest with him in a while. “Can you blame me?”

He frowns. “No, y/n.... I could never blame you, you know that?”

Did you?

To be fair, your sense of judgement back then was quite clouded. You didn’t know what to feel about yourself, and Tooru... you had just came to the conclusion that he deserved someone better. Someone who could take meaningless insults better.

You should’ve tried harder.

“I— it doesn’t matter anymore...” you reply. “It’s been a year, Tooru.”

You don’t even mean to say his first name, it just slips out naturally.

After a long pause, he sighs. 

“C’mere. You’re gonna get sick.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, walking forward into the shade of the umbrella. 

The next few minutes are a bit conflicting, to say the least. There are unspoken words hanging in the air that no one wants to say, nor think about. 

Oikawa’s grip around the umbrella is so unknowingly tight that he doesn’t even recognize the ache in his muscles. What good would it do to rekindle a fire that never really went out in the first place?

After the breakup, he never really... moved on. He watches, observes you from a distance, and when he works up the courage to approach you, you’re gone. As difficult as it was to find you again, he still notices things that give him hope.

 He notices how your gaze unknowingly lingers as he walks past the halls. How a small smile creeps up your lips when you hear that the boys’ volleyball club had won a match. 

You still care, he knows that much.

But is it worth trying to be close to you again?

“You don’t have to ever talk to me again after this if that makes you comfortable,” he tells you, his expression weirdly unreadable. “But let me just say this.”

He pauses his walking and turns to face you. His gaze on you is so intense, it practically compels you to meet his eyes. 

You don’t like where this is going. At all. Once you get too comfortable and stare too hard, you’ll fall into the same rabbit hole you got yourself into a year ago. Being in his mere presence is dangerous, and that’s why you were so adamant about avoiding him so much in the first place.

But he’s hypnotizing and so, so tempting. One second turns to five when you stare at his face.

“I miss you. Not even just in a romantic way, but you were my friend first,” he confesses, and the sincerity that follows his words shatters your heart. “I’m sorry it turned out like this.”

A lump forms in your throat but you’re too frozen in place to swallow it. Because you see him - the little freckles on his nose, the flush in his cheeks, the dreamy look in his eyes. They hold remnants of your second year in high school, when love was what it was supposed to be - exhilarating, healthy, and freeing. 

You see him on TV, hear his name in the halls, dream of tasting his lips when you’re asleep. There was never an escape even when you desperately tried to avoid him, and now that he’s right here in front of you, you actually have a chance to touch him. To kiss him.

And you want to. So, so badly. His lips look so terribly cold and lonely. 

But who were you to relieve that?

Good god, did you miss him.

“I miss you too,” you breathe out, weak in the knees at the force of his gaze. “I wish I didn’t take those notes so personally. Wish it didn’t come between us.”

He smiles. “So hard on yourself as always, y/n,” he says, a ghost of a chuckle leaving his lips. “Anyone would’ve lost their minds. I would’ve.”

“Yeah... But I should’ve told you earlier,” you argue. “Maybe then we would’ve resolved it—“

“You are not at fault for us falling apart,” He sounds confident - as if it was a truth. 

You don’t know why he keeps insisting it wasn’t your fault. It was. 

Your only argument back is, “... Was too.”

Tooru squints his eyes. Two can play this game.

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was not.”

“Was too— oh, fuck off.” Your expression fades to a glare. 

Oh, how he missed this.

“But seriously, I never ever blamed you for what happened,” he prods firmly, making sure you get the idea into your pretty little head. The idea that he doesn’t hate you - never has, never will. “I just miss us. Do you think you could ever....?”

You tilt your head to the side. “Ever... what?”

A full on blush blooms across his cheeks. “Date me... again..?”

Now, it’s your turn to chuckle. “Seriously, you still want to? After all that shit?”

“Of course I want to, are you kidding me?” Tooru quips back, not wasting a second. “I’m crazy over you, y/n.”

That’s it.

You don’t even know what comes over you for what happens next. Before you could get a hold of your senses, your lips are on his. The taste is one you’ve had on your tongue countless of times, but this time, it’s so strange, so new.

Whatever unsaid apologies you never worked the courage to tell him take the form of this - your perfect lips, and your wandering hands. You two don’t even notice how the umbrella is long gone, allowing the rain to kiss you all over. 

He’s close, so close. His chest is pressed against yours and you can practically feel his bare skin through the thin, wet fabric of his uniform. It’s so intoxicating, you could pass out, right here and right now.

How did you ever give this up?

“I love you,” he whispers after pulling away, his hands cupping your cheeks and gazing at your face in its entirety. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

He doesn’t stop there, though. He nuzzles his nose into yours, then kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then plays with your hair.

You want to cry.

“You still... want me?” You ask, your voice painfully small. 

“Yeah, I still want you.” The grin on his lips don’t allow any room for question. “Do you still want me?”

“Yeah... Sadly,” you send him a cheeky smile back.

He flicks the back of your head, and soon enough, you two are kissing in the rain again.

Perhaps this is a sign that Oikawa Tooru is bound to you. He wants you endlessly, kisses like an absolute god, and unknowingly lives through all your worst days with you.

You wouldn’t mind if fate just so happened to like the look of you two together. Shitty, handwritten notes or not.

You like the look of Tooru with you, too.

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #AHH I HOPE THIS IS OKAY.. #fics by oinkz

[kaepop-trash]

IM SHOOK? SHAKEN? CHANGED??:&:9 PUSH AND PULL IS SO GOOD??:&:@; AAAA. I LOVE YOUR WORK.. LITERALLY OBSESSED ... i was wondering if it had a part 2 BUT THE CLIFF HANGER .. GOD INSANITY.. UR SUCH A GOOD WRITER AAAAA

There was a time when I had considered writing another part for it, but truly there was just one scene I really wanted to write. When I saw this, I felt compelled to write it. Consider it an apology for the cliff hanger I left the fic on. Not that this is any better.

I was intrigued by this dynamic when I wrote this fic and I continue to be even now. So consider this more self-gratification than anything else. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Tw: unhealthy relationship dynamic, hints of obsession and violence if you squint.

_

This was strange. She was allowed to think that. The restaurant was a good one, she was dressed as well as she always was.

Kim Doyoung was in a white shirt and dark jeans. His eyes were focused on the menu in his hand, brows stitch together in concentration. The other hand ran through his hair, an honest effort to push it out of his face. But it was long and fell over his eyes just as soon as he let it go, the only difference being a few strands that stuck up.

She looked down at her fingers, nails now cleaned of the blood from his scalp. He had very soft hair too, she could remember the feel of it against her palm. She could remember the other parts too.

"Have you decided what you want?" His voice made her look up. He was watching her with careful calculation, the gaze of a panther assessing his prey. He was a fool to think she wasn't herself a predator.

"Sure." She slapped the menu close, the sound sudden and loud.

He just nodded, "Okay." His eyes coloured with amusement. She clenched her fist tight, impatient and irritated. "Are you usually this quiet?" He sat back in his seat.

"I speak when I want to, Mr. Kim." Her voice was curt.

He gave her a heinous smirk, "I had my tongue in your cunt, (Y/N). You can call me Doyoung." He reached for his glass of water.

His words made her shift in her chair. Her body reacting against her will was what made the last thread of courtesy snap.

"Other people have done more than that. Physical intimacy isn't grounds for familiarity, not with me." She settled back into her chair. When his jaw flexed, she smiled. At least now they were both annoyed.

"What is grounds for familiarity with you?" His voice was sharper, gaze narrower.

"Why do you care, Mr. Kim?" She snapped. "I'm not interested in being familiar with you."

"Why not?" He furrowed his brows.

"I'm not interested in being familiar with anyone." It was the first honest thing she'd spoken in a while.

"Scared?" He looked intrigued.

"Indifferent." Her frown twisted further.

He hummed, considering her words. "I could make a compelling case."

"It would be a wasted effort. I'm sure you'll find someone more suited to your demands elsewhere." She reached for her glass of water, confused and displeased by the way this was going.

Yet a part of her clawed with intrigue, wanting to know why he was seemingly undeterred. It stopped her from walking out the door, "Can we order?" She questioned. He gave her an unbothered smile, nodding in answer. She wanted to pry open his skull if it told her what he was thinking.

"I don't understand why you're being so persistent. I'm not trying to be coy, I'm not interested in anything beyond sex." She told him once the waiter left with their orders.

"We can have sex." He said it like it was a consolation prize, one he only considered in hindsight.

She crossed her arms over her chest, "What do you want, Doyoung?"

He licked his lips, eyes grazing the skin over the low neckline of her dress. "I started a painting the night I first met you. I haven't painted anything in three years." His eyes glazed over at that, clearly not present at the table anymore. "The second time I met you, the image became clearer, I could picture the colours of it." His eyes focused again, honing in on her. Her stomach flipped. "Last night I thought of a different painting I will paint after this." He gave her a look of conviction, "I must get to know you better." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not keen on being used." She brushed it off.

"Being somebody's muse is a privilege, (Y/N)." His tone flares with offense, "It's being immortalised in memory. I want to capture you in between my brushes and commit you to canvas. I want to make you art." He frowned at her, confused by the rejection.

"Privilege?" She laughed, the sound light and melodious. "It sounds to me like I'm the one doing you a favour. It's your privilege, Mr. Kim." She laughed a little more.

"I don't care what you think." His words didn't match the look on his face, "I haven't had inspiration in years. I'm losing my touch. If I don't create, I cease to be." Anger seeped into his eyes, burning bright red.

She sat back in her chair, "What do I get in return?" She couldn't believe that she was actually considering it.

"What do you want, (Y/N)? Other than an artist's devotion."

She scoffed at his words, "Let me display your art. Anywhere, anytime. If you want to use me, I want to be the only person who gets to use your paintings." She saw the gears grinding in his head at her words.

While it would be a good deal to have, a part of her was sure he'd never agree to it. She knew his reputation. Kim Doyoung did not like sharing what was his.

"Fine." It was his lack of hesitation that caught her off-guard. “But I have a single condition instead. It’s not up for argument.”

She nodded, the possibility of having the exclusive right to display the art of one of the most coveted artists alive worth anything he could demand. He smiled like he was aware of that.

“I want you to myself. No other people.” His eyes bore into her, his gaze the most intense thing about his presence. She clenched her fist so tight that her nails dug into the skin, her palm stinging.

She wanted to slap him.

The demand was a clear sign of control over her. She knew artists, knew the extent of their obsessions. She also knew they tended to fade fast.

“Alright, Doyoung.” She bit her lip. “Have your way with me.” Despite herself, she felt her chest stir at her own words.

-

He flicked the light on, the large empty space illuminated with harsh white light. She looked around, the studio mostly empty save for a single canvas that rested against the wall. The smell of paint thinner in the air told her that he had been at it recently. Doyoung stood by the door as she walked towards the piece, the click of her heels echoing in the space.

The canvas was a messy blend of colours: red, orange and white. In the centre of ot sat the outline of a couch. “This is what you made?” She questioned, the perceptive eye of someone acquainted with art observing every detail.

“Don’t like it?” He spoke from across the room.

She focused on the blend of colours; despite the bold mix of red and orange, it was the white strokes that felt aggressive. “It’s confusing.” She shifted her weight between her feet.

She heard his footsteps approach her, “Have you ever felt rage, (Y/N)? Blinding rage that you cannot control? Only channel?” His words bounced off the walls.

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve your rage.” Her voice was softer.

“You seduced me, (Y/N).” His footsteps stopped short of her heel. “You were using every dirty trick one could do it. And you were so blatant about it.” He groaned.

Her lips tugged, “I’m known to go after what I like in the moment.” She swallowed.

“You’re shameless.” He spat the word like an insult. She clenched her jaw, “And it makes me furious that I can’t stop thinking about you.” There was a crack in his calm voice, it made her breath falter for a second.

“You aren’t the first." She scoffed, "You don’t have to be hard on yourself, I know what I’m doing. Your reaction is to be expected.” She tried to keep her voice level, not giving him the priviledge of seeing her own rage. Rage was an admittance of effect and she would not let him see his effect on her.

She gasped when his finger brushed up her thigh. “You don’t know anything about me." He mumbled, still maintaining the last few inches of distance. "I don’t play games, I don’t collect conquests.”

She laughed, her head falling back. He took a step closer, pushing her head to the side to brush his lips over her neck. “I know people, Doyoung. I especially know men. You want to believe you’re complex,” He bit down on the smooth skin, she moaned. “But lust is never complicated. It’s deceptively simple. You’re currently playing a game with me, one you want to win. You just don’t know it, which is your loss because you don’t have a prize in mind.” He licked the skin he just ruined, purring into her throat. He bit down the same place again, harder. She whimpered.

“I know my prize.” His nose brushed up her jaw, his breath heating her skin.

“I’m not a trophy to be acquired.” She took a step back, pressing into his chest.

Doyoung sighed, hand reaching around and tugging on her waist, “Who said I was talking about you?”

She clenched her jaw. “What is it you hope to win then?” His hand brushed up and grabbed her jaw, tilting her head back further.

“Let me show you.” His lips brushed against her cheeks. He gathered her dress in his hands, hitching it higher. “Lift your arms.” He whispered. When she did, he pulled the material off.

His fingers made quick work of the rest of her garments. Once she was completely bare, he turned her around. His smile was deceptively gentle, “Do you enjoy being a whore, (Y/N)?” He took a step back, looking her over with detached scrutiny.

“Very much so.” She stepped out of her underwear. When he looked up with a sharp gaze, it was her turn to give him a sweet smile.

“Will you enjoy being my whore?” He brushed his index finger on his lips. Soft, pretty lips that she made a note to destroy.

“That is to be seen.” She breathed out.

He smiled wide, pointing behind him. “Sit on that sheet.”

She gave him a skeptical look. When he added no further explanation, she did what she was told. She walked up to the large white cloth that lay flat on the floor, ready for whatever he had planned. She bent over, deliberately slow, and took her heels off. Walking over to the centre of the sheet and sitting down, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat patiently.

“Such a pretty picture you make.” He hummed, walking over to a table littered with paint and brushes. He picked up a few bottles, coming up to stand in front of her. Her heart beat so fast with anticipation that she was certain it was echoing against the walls.

He kneeled in front of her, “Give me your palms.” His eyes stayed on her face, his voice still dispassionate. She lifted her hands and laid them out for him. When he looked down at them, she glanced at his features. Without his dark gaze, his face looked almost delicate. She felt thick liquid on her palm, looking down to see him squeeze blue and green paint on each palm.

He looked up when he finished, “Lust isn’t simple. It’s like being on fire one second and being drowned the next. Put your hands behind you and lean back.” She took in an unsteady breath, sitting back.

The paint squished between her palm when she pressed them on the sheet, coming out from between her fingers. He sat back, unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes didn’t leave hers the entire time.

“Which one of us will drown?” She breathed out, words mixed with soft pants.

He unbuckled his belt, smirking when she squeezed her legs. “That is to be seen.” He repeated her own words back, grabbing her knees to open her legs again. He stood up, pushing his jeans off. Once he did, he squeezed the green paint onto his knees. Her breathing was ragged now, bouncing off the walls and filling the space with the admittance of her eagerness.

He walked around to her back, leaning down. “Sit up.” His voice was lower, and to her victorious realisation, afflicted. When she did, his knees pressed into the small of her back, paint rubbing against her skin. She couldn’t explain why, but the rudimentary action made her moan. He brushed her hair up, tying it up on her head with a tie she didn’t know he had. Everything felt meticulously planned.

He squeezed more paint onto her spine, rubbing it around with precise fingers. He remained unnervingly silent, getting up and coming back around to face her again. “You’re so beautiful.” He gasped.

The words made her smirk, chest heaving with quick breaths. “I know.”

He smirked back, “I’m going to make you divine.” He put his knees on the sheet, the blue and green rubbing together. She stared at the traces, for a moment mesmerised by the mark it left.

She yelped when he grabbed her ankle and tugged her, her wet palms slipping. Her back landed on the sheet, her head stinging a little from the sudden contact. He parted her legs with his knee, she looked up to see him squeeze white paint into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, before using them to hover over her. “You’re going to display the very manifestation of your lust in museums all over the world, (Y/N). We’re going to commodify your sin. That’s my prize.” His hands slid across the sheet and grabbed her waist.

She reached up and grabbed his throat, the smooth white skin tainted blue and green. “It’s going to be our sin, Doyoung.” She dragged her eyes from his eyes to his lips.

“I was under the impression that you didn’t want familiarity.” His hands rubbed white paint up her sides, brushing under her breasts. Both their breathing matched in impatience.

She pulled him closer, resting her lips on his. “If you’re going to immortalise me, I will own you.” She promised. He smiled against her lips, kissing her.

_

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Push and Pull

#doyoung smut #nct smut #doyoung scenarios #doyoung drabble #nct doyoung #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct drabble #miscellaneous #push and pull #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct 127 smut

[sunsetcurveofficial]

idk if i should ask through here??? but for the prompts you were taking: i thought 10 with merthur?? and 13 with reggie/luke ;))) love your work <3<3<3

thank you for sending them in!! i did peterpatter first, and i’ll do the merthur one in a separate post. 

i think this is the first time i ever used present tense in a fic, since this is all about enhancing my writing horizon. was interesting. also idk what this is. it developed a life of its own.

13. “Don’t be sorry… it was kind of cute, actually.” 

______

Here’s the thing. Luke Patterson isn’t the tidiest person, exactly. His room tends to be messy, his things tend to be scattered all around the studio, and he can never find the shirt he’s looking for. Sometimes he wakes up in a Nirvana mood and all he can find are Green Day shirts. Sometimes he puts his journal down somewhere, because he has to grab a guitar before the riff in his head leaves him again. And then he forgets where he put it and searches for hours until Reggie, Alex, or Bobby hand it to him as if it was right there all along. 

It’s just that he gets so into his music that he forgets things sometimes. He also forgets time a lot and then he doesn’t have any left to clean or bring organise his stuff. It drives his Mom rather mad, but Luke can’t help it. He tries, really, but two days later his room always seems to be back to its original state of chaos. 

So imagine his surprise when he gets home after practice one night and finds his room all tidy and clean with small notes pinned to random objects, commenting things like ‘Do you really need this, Luke?’ or just ‘Hahaha.’ or ‘Omg, you kept this.’ in what he identifies as Reggie’s handwriting. He’s read enough of his country songs to know. Smiling, he picks up a stuffed bear Reggie once won for him at a fair they went to together when Alex and Bobby were both busy with their own families. Reggie pinned a note to it, saying ‘Nice to see you keeping the tokens of my affection.’ 

He hugs the bear close to his chest and keeps looking around his room for more of Reggie’s inane commentary. He finds dozens of notes, and decides to keep them where they are. They make something flutter beneath his ribcage, and fill him with warmth and a sense of comfort he only knows from playing his music. He’s not sure how he feels about Reggie coming to his house when he’s not there and rummaging through his things, but at the same time he knows there aren’t any secrets he’s keeping from him anyway, and Reggie knew about his latest fight with his mother. It was pretty bad, so Luke spent the night at the studio where his friend found him in the morning. So, Reggie knew he struggles with keeping his room clean again, causing him to fight with Emily and feel miserable about it, and he decided to help, apparently. 

“I’m sorry for not asking first,” Reggie says suddenly, and Luke spins around to find him standing in the doorway, smiling a little sheepishly. “Your mom let me in,” he answers Luke’s unasked question. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Luke says softly, gesturing around his room. “This… it was kind of cute, actually.” 

Reggie leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of his chest as he raises a suggestive eyebrow and smiles so brightly, Luke feels himself physically react to the sight. 

“Aw, you think I’m cute, do you?” 

Luke snorts. 

“Yeah, man. The cutest.” He’s not lying. Reggie is… the best friend in the world, but he’s also beautiful, and funny, and Luke loves him so much, really. 

Oh. Well, okay. That’s a new thought. 

Luke hums curiously as he turns away from Reggie to hide the blush rising to his cheeks. He spots another note at the foot of his bed. ‘Remember when we used to pretend your bed is a stage and performed really bad versions of Queen songs on your first guitar?’ 

Luke does remember. And he feels warm all over again. Oh. So, Reggie? It’s Reggie for him? The decision is quickly made. Luke has always been an impulsive person, and if he wants something, he goes for it. Apparently he wants Reggie now. 

He’s about to turn around when he feels Reggie wrap his arms around his waist from behind and rest his chin on Luke’s shoulder. 

“You don’t have to hide your pretty blush, you know?” Reggie says, voice lower than usual. Luke feels it right down to his bones. 

“Aw, you think I’m pretty, do you?” Luke says, matching Reggie’s tone from before and grinning as he turns his head. It’s an awkward angle, but they’re so close, their noses almost touching, and Luke suddenly has trouble breathing. 

“Yeah, man. The prettiest,” Reggie replies, imitating Luke from before, but sounding no less sincere. 

Luke hums again. 

“This is new. I have to admit I did not see this one coming,” he says softly, curiously glancing at Reggie’s lips. “You and I?” 

Reggie leans a little closer, and his lips are ghosting over Luke’s, almost touching, but not quite yet. 

“Neither did I. But I had an epiphany while cleaning your room and finding all these memories of us,” Reggie says, his voice barely more than a whisper. He chuckles. “Well, there goes my heterosexuality.” 

And then he kisses Luke, and Luke drops the bear he was still holding to turn in his arms and kiss him back, arms coming around his neck to keep him close. 

“That’s overrated anyway,” he comments in between kisses, just before they fall onto Luke’s bed together. The very same one they used to play rockstars on when they were 11. 

Later that night, Luke finds more notes as he happily sings ABBA songs to himself. ‘Hello pretty boy. What’s up?’ is written on a small yellow note on the corner of his mirror. On his CD copy of The Other Side of the Mirror by Stevie Nicks, Reggie left a note saying ‘I hope I get to kiss you one day just for owning this. Not sure if I mean that platonically… We should probably talk. I hope you don’t find this before I get a chance to talk to you. If you do… well. Surprise? Reggie is having a sexuality crisis and it’s all your fault.’ 

And when he picks out a fresh shirt from his closet, a note falls out informing him that Luke’s lack of sleeves on most of his shirts played a significant role in Reggie’s crisis about his sexuality. 

“You dork,” he mumbles to himself, putting on a Fleetwood Mac shirt for good measure and singing Super Trouper as he dances down the stairs to help his mother with dinner. 

“Aren’t you chipper today?” Emily says with a smile when she spots him. “I think Reggie was humming Dancing Queen when he left earlier. May I ask what put you two into such a delightful mood?” 

Luke beams at her, shrugging as he does a pirouette. 

“I think we’re in love, Mom,” he tells her honestly. He figures there is no need to lie to her, and he’s feeling way too happy to keep it to himself. Emily only looks a little surprised. 

“With each other?” she asks. 

Luke nods. “Yeah.” 

Emily smiles and reaches out to squeeze Luke’s arm. 

“Well, that’s lovely. He’s a fine young man, I’ve always thought so.” 

Luke hugs her, just because he can and he doesn’t know why they fight so much when they also frequently have moments like this, when he feels so blessed to have her. 

The next day, when Luke walks into the studio and finds his friends already gathered and ready with their instruments, he feels all warm and fluttery again as soon as he spots Reggie, so he walks right over to him and kisses him right on the mouth. 

Bobby hoots, Alex claps, and Reggie is eager to kiss back. 

“Sorry,” Luke murmurs against his lips. 

“Luke?” Reggie says as he pulls back. “If you ever apologise for kissing me again, I’m gonna write a hundred country songs about you, and I will get famous with them, and you’ll forever be known as that weird queer country dude’s boyfriend.” 

Luke laughs and raises his hands in surrender. 

“What a horrible fate. Alright, no apologies from now on.” 

He kisses Reggie again, and this time he doesn’t say sorry. He’s not actually sorry, anyway. 

#peterpatter #ruke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #prompts #my fic #my writing #jatp #Anonymous

[office-to-fantasy]

Can I get a Subaru x Reader angsty and fluffy oneshot? Soft Subaru is my huge weakness. And yeah, your writing is really good.. Keep up the good work ^_^

[Ah! Thank you!! Means millions >.<! Small reminder to give a bit more description on what you’d like, but I’ll honestly let it slide since this one came so easily hehe 🙇‍♀️ Enjoy!!]

Subaru Sakamaki x Reader

(Diabolik Lovers Fanfic)

You shut the door behind you in a slam. You couldn’t believe him, you were used to his moments but maybe you just couldn’t handle it today.

You took a deep breath, sitting on the bed with your face in your hands.

You had gotten into an argument and one thing led to another and it ended with him raising his voice, you did the same and here you were, alone.

You loved Subaru, so much, but at times it became difficult to deal with his sudden change of mood.

Yet you wouldn’t leave him, absolutely not, not for the world. No matter how many rough patches you’d have, you wouldn’t dare leave him.

You hoped he felt the same way.

You laid back on the bed, trying to recollect your thoughts and calm down. Nothing would get better if you just went back and forth, there needed to be an understanding, a true compromise.

You sat up and walked to the window, looking out as you saw a messy glob of white hair around the garden. Subaru was tending to the Roses as he usually would when he needed to think. It somewhat soothed you to know he was also thinking about what had happened, that he wasn’t exactly at ease with what had just occurred.

Subaru picked a flower, observing it for a moment with a small frown. He merely glanced at the direction of your room. He frowned slightly more and dropped the flower, completely dismissing it.

Your heart dropped at the gesture. Why did it feel as though the flower was resembling you…

You took another deep breath and sat on the bed, waiting for Subaru to come back to your room as he always had in the past months you’d been together.

He never came.

You stood and walked out, your heart practically beating out of your chest. The other brothers would be asleep around this hour so you were most likely safe to roam and look for him.

He couldn’t have given up on you, right? After everything?

You made it to his room and lightly knocked on the door, awaiting a response from the albino.

Nothing.

You gulped and knocked again. You wanted to see him, the argument wasn’t important to you anymore, you just wanted him to be happy. You wanted to look into those beautiful volcanic eyes that held the fire of a million suns and let him know that a stupid argument wouldn’t make you love him any less.

You’d left the room where you were arguing in a heated moment, you were frustrated and feared saying something irrational. You couldn’t pin the entire blame on yourself, Subaru began spitting words at you that hurt and cut deep.

You didn’t want to do any payback, you wanted to back away, give each other a bit of space to cool down. Now you weren’t so sure if that was the right choice.

The door opened, the action making you jump out of your thoughts and to the beautiful man that stood in front of you.

“What the hell do you wan—” he cut himself short as he looked at you. He moved something behind his back but the object didn’t slip from your sight.

It was the rose.

You looked up at Subaru, looking into those deep red eyes you’d always loved since the moment you stepped into the mansion. You gathered the courage to speak and slightly glanced down.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened at the words he’d said and looked back up at him. “What?”

He looked away. “You heard me. I apologized.” A hint of a blush coated his cheeks.

He was so cute.

“Oh,” you said, a hint of a smile on your lips. You looked up at him. “Well then I accept your apology. And I’m also sorry, can we come to a real agreement?” you asked.

Subaru looked at you, his deep fiery eyes watching you intently. “Yeah, I don’t know what you’re sorry for, but coming to an agreement sounds like a good idea.”

You smiled. “What’s behind your back?” you asked leaning into the room slightly, pretending to try seeing the object in his hands.

A small smile played on his lips, easily making your heart skip a beat with joy and adoration. “Don’t act like you didn’t see it.” He brought the soft flower from behind him, holding it up only barely as he observed it.

“Why did you pick it out? It’s a very beautiful rose,” you said softly, looking at the flower.

Subaru glanced from the flower to you. “I kind of thought of it as you.”

Your heart dropped once again. Had he truly wanted to give up on you? But he was perfectly okay now, so what happened?

“You did?” You asked unsure of how to react.

Subaru stepped aside, letting you into his room as he locked the door behind him. “Gentle and delicate. If I let it go I can’t hurt it, but if I hold onto it, it could easily fall apart from my hands,” he explained, his eyes still on the flower.

Your heart warmed at his words but all the same, you became worried. Did he still think of himself as someone who could only destroy?

“Subaru,” you started, wanting to prove to him you weren’t letting go of him, that you were stronger and wanted to be by his side.

“But I could also keep it.” You stopped. “I could take care of it and help it live a lot longer than if I were to just pick it and leave it…” a slightly pained look overtook his features. “Do you think I could do that with you, take care of you I mean.” A small blush overtook his cheeks.

You smiled and walked to him. You gently took the flower from his hand and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Absolutely,” you spoke softly.

Subaru gave you a soft smile and held you in his arms, his real flower now in his grasp. He planned to keep his word, to protect you and care for you.

You smirked slightly. “Does that also mean to help reproduce the flower into more?” you asked, amused.

Subaru’s cheeks turned a pink hue before he leaned towards your ear. “Maybe you aren’t such a delicate flower.”

[Ooh...]

#request #subaru sakamaki #sakamaki subaru #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers subaru #diabolik lovers fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #OftoFa

[cyberhwas]

↬ pairing/characters: hercules! mingi x reader, wooyoung as terpishchore (muse of dance), seonghwa as erato (muse of love poetry), hongjoong as euterpe (muse of music), jongho as polyhymnia (muse of hymns), san as clio (muse of history), yeosang as thaila (muse of comedy), and yunho as urania (muse of astronomy)

↬ genre: fluff, heavy angst, mutual pining, greek mythology au 

↬ tw: mentions of death, light swearing, soul-selling,  servitude, unrequited love (im so sorry yall), major character death (oops) 

↬ disclaimers: may contain slight inaccuracies concerning dates, i have changed a bit of the story to make it less intense 

↬ rating: m, 18+ 

↬ wc: 10k (atm) 

↬ summary: you felt your heart ache at the utter anger and confusion on mingi’s face. “you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you flinched at the coldness in mingi’s voice. “please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, his voice as hard as steel. you could only watch, helplessly, as the man you truly loved walked away, taking your heart with him. 

↬ note: hello friends!! this is the sequel to my previous fic, “i won’t say i’m in love”! thank you all for supporting me and my mediocre writing, and i hope you enjoy reading this!! stay safe and healthy, my loves!! 

“why, why am i afraid?” - ateez (mist

you hummed quietly to yourself as you sat on the edge of the low wall that surrounded the garden, letting your feet dangle in the air, mindlessly swinging them back and forth. the night air was cool and crisp, and the moon was glowing serenely against the midnight blue sky, bathing the garden in a soft, white light. it was late, and yet, despite the hectic evening you’d had, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. 

seonghwa, san, and the others had reluctantly disappeared into their small cottage to retire for the night, after you had assured them that you were just going to sit around in the garden for a few minutes before joining them. your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. after all, you had just confessed your deepest and darkest secret to the people you considered family, and they hadn’t scorned or turned you away like you thought they would. however, you weren’t sure how you were going to gather up the courage to tell mingi. 

you scoffed, immediately erasing the idea from your mind. don’t be ridiculous, it’s not like he would care anyways. besides, you’re not supposed to fall for him, you’re supposed to break his heart, so it doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.  you ignored the bile rising in your throat. at first, you had thought that the task would be easy, as you were sure you weren’t ever going to fall for someone again, especially not after  the way your past romance had ended tragically. 

you clenched the soft fabric of your blue chiton in your hands, feeling angry tears prick at the corner of your eyes. you hated feeling so conflicted, especially over someone of the opposite sex. after all, men had done nothing but disappoint you, and your ex lover had proved that true. 

seonghwa couldn’t sleep. he was too worried about you, especially now that he knew that hades had a motive to hurt you. his heart had ached as you broke down and told everyone your secret. he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair and looked around him. even in the darkness of the small room, he could just make out the vibrant blue of hongjoong’s hair, yeosang’s light blonde hair, wooyoung and san curled up against one another, and jongho and yunho sprawled out on the bed across from him. seonghwa allowed himself a small, fond smile. he was grateful that he was able to spend time with his family every day, and that they were always safe and sound at the end of the day. 

seonghwa reluctantly slid out of his warm bed, shrugged his worn sandals on, slipped out the door and into the cool night. he wandered mindlessly around the garden, admiring how the blue and pink flowers that grew in its vicinity stood out against the dark of the night. the air was cool and soothing against his skin as he wandered farther, mind swimming with thoughts. 

suddenly, seonghwa heard faint sobs, and felt his blood run cold.  he wandered into a more secluded part of the garden, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. you were sitting at the edge of the low wall that surrounded the perimeter of the garden, hands gripping the soft fabric of your chiton so hard that your knuckles were turning white, and your body was shaking with soft sobs. seonghwa immediately ran over to you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “h-hwa. I-i’m s-sorry, did i wake you?” his heart ached at how dejected you sounded. 

seonghwa shook his head, hugging you tighter and rubbing comforting circles on your back. “i couldn’t sleep.” “i’m sorry for worrying you, i just needed to clear my head.” “y/n, stop apologizing. you did nothing wrong, and the fact that you mustered up the courage to tell us your secret must’ve been hard for you.” you sniffled and buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a shaky breath. “it was, but i didn’t want to keep lying to everyone. none of you deserve to be lied to, not after all you all have done for me.” 

“darling, please, none of what you did is your fault. it’s that godsdamn jerk hades. and never feel afraid to come to any of us for comfort, we are always here for you, ok?” seonghwa felt you nod weakly, and allowed himself a small smile. “good. now, let’s get back inside before you freeze to death.” you chuckled, despite yourself. “hwa, it’s not even cold.” “don’t you dare argue with me, young lady.” seonghwa scolded lightheartedly. you rolled your eyes, glad he couldn’t see it as he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style. “yes, father.” that earned you a playful glare. “i am not that old, you know!” you laughed, reaching up and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “whatever you say, old man.” 

you woke up the next morning to find yunho practically wrapped around you, his soft black hair tickling your cheek, and you smiled fondly, remembering all the nights you spent as kids curled up next to the muses you had come to call family, feeling safe and secure. the early morning sun cast beams of light across the floor of the small cottage, bathing it in gold. 

you slowly and carefully extricated yourself from yunho’s grip and headed outside to see if seonghwa needed help with tending to the garden. said male would wake up before everyone to tend to every plant and flower that occupied it, and you felt that helping seonghwa was the least you could to do to thank him for comforting you last night. 

sure enough, seonghwa was bent over a bed of roses, golden eyes searching for any deformities. “hwa!” you called, and the former’s expression lit up, a fond smile tugging at his lips, waving you over. “how are the roses doing?” you asked, admiring how the pink rose petals stood out against the dark soil.   “they’re alright, despite this weather.” you hummed thoughtfully, reaching out and lightly touching the rose petals, velvet soft against your skin. “thank you.” “for what?” seonghwa asked, moving on to another cluster of flowers, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “for last night. for comforting me.” the love muse’s expression went soft, golden eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “no need to thank me, darling. you’ve been through so much, and you deserve to have comfort. besides, we’re practically family, and we’re all supposed to there for each other, no matter what.” 

you smiled, reaching out and taking seonghwa’s hand in yours, squeezing gently. “do you need help with the flowers?” the former shook his head, black hair falling across his forehead. “well, is there anything i can do?” seonghwa smiled. “you can help me by waking the others up.” you groaned, knowing how difficult that was. “that’s going to take centuries, hwa!” “well, the flowers aren’t going to tend to themselves.” “aren’t you the muse of love poetry?” “yeah, and what about it? i am perfectly capable of taking care of nature.” you laughed, reaching out and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “of course you are. now, if you’ll excuse me, i need to go wake up our little band of gremlins.” seonghwa chuckled softly as you turned and skipped towards the cottage, your heart seemingly lighter than before. 

it had taken nearly forty five minutes to wake everyone up, save hongjoong, who had actually gotten up as soon as you had gently shaken his shoulder. the others had been a bit more difficult, especially jongho and yeosang, who were notorious for sleeping in late. another twenty minutes later, breakfast was served, and it had been fruit, a few vegetables, bread, and cheese that seonghwa had managed to snag from the local market earlier that morning. then, yunho suggested that they lay out underneath the huge tree that took up a portion of the garden, of which everyone had agreed to, to your surprise. 

“when are you going to be done sulking?” “not sulking.” mingi mumbled, leaning against the tree he’d been sitting under for the past few hours, the bark rough against his back. maddox scoffed. “yeah, and i’m a descendant of zeus. you’re not fooling anyone, kid.” mingi sighed. “i just-” “missing her already?” 

 he felt his face burn. “s-shut up.” “there’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. i know i tease, but i genuinely want to see you happy, kid. you deserve it.” 

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” mingi mumbled, blush deepening. he felt silly, pining after a girl he barely knew, but you were unlike anyone he had met. he heard maddox scoff. “please, that girl cannot fool anyone, even with her tough and stubborn façade.” “even if she liked me, would we even work?” maddox’s expression softened just a fraction, and he moved forward, placing a gentle hand on mingi’s shoulder, as if in comfort. “that’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself, kid.” mingi huffed. “that’s what i’ve been trying to do.” “give it time, it’ll come to you eventually.”

 mingi’s mind was still heavy with conflict as he walked along a long dirt path that would lead him to the cottage he resided in. even though he had been offered nicer accommodation in the city, mingi preferred to live in a more secluded area and one that was closer to nature. the late evening air was crisp and clean as he ventured further down the path, mind constantly wandering. his conversation with maddox earlier that day had done little to soothe his anxiety.  mingi was so lost in thought that he bumped into someone. “i’m so sorry i-” mingi felt his mouth suddenly go dry, as if he’d swallowed sandpaper. “wonder boy?” you asked, leaning back against a tree, keeping your expression as nonchalant as possible. even in the darkness, you could still make out the blush that was forming on mingi’s face. in the soft glow of the moon, mingi looked as gorgeous as ever, and you ignored the slight ache in your heart at the sight of him. “h-hi.” he stammered.. “what brings you out here at this time of night?” “just passing through.” “been a while since we’ve seen each other, huh?” “been busy.” mingi mumbled, running a hand through his already messy hair. you frowned at the slight annoyance in his tone, but didn’t  think anything of it. “well, see you around.” you muttered, pushing off the tree with your elbow and walked away, not bothering to look back.

 “everything ok?” yunho asked, light green eyes filled with worry. you sighed, leaning your head on the tall male’s shoulder, shaking your head slightly. immediately, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing gently. “what happened?” “it’s stupid.” “just tell me.” “fine. on my way here, i bumped into mingi, quite literally, at that.” “and?” what happened that has you so sad?” “do we need to beat someone up?” an amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you laughed. “well, let me finish telling you and then i’ll let you and the others decide.” “what did he do?” “well, he seemed different.” “different how?” “i don’t know, it’s just the way he talked to me. he sounded kind of annoyed?” you felt yunho tense a little, the grip on your shoulders a little firmer, and you reached down and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “i’m sure he was just having a bad day. don’t kill him, please. i can’t have you or the others being thrown into tarturus for beating someone up.” yunho huffed. “fine, but if he hurts you, i’ll get san to break his legs.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into the tall male’s side. “i’ll keep that in mind, then.” 

you tried not to laugh at the way seonghwa and jongho’s jaws clenched as you told them about what happened between you and mingi earlier that night. “i’ll kill him.” “no killing anyone, please. it’s not that big of a deal, he was probably having a bad day, everyone does.” “ok, but he didn’t have to take his annoyance out on you.” “yes, but-” “next time you see mingi, tell him that i will not hesitate to break his legs if he hurts you again.” “he won’t, i promise. like i said, he was probably having a bad day.” san huffed. “let him know.” “ok, ok, i will.” 

“enough about my love life.” “oh, so you’re admitting you have one?” yunho asked, light green eyes twinkling with mirth. “s-shut up, i do not.” wooyoung snorted, plopping down next to san, who rolled his eyes in amusement as the former laid his head on his shoulder. “you totally do, darling.” “not you too, hwa.” “sorry, but i have to agree with wooyoung.” you groaned, throwing yourself down onto the grass, laying your head in hongjoong’s lap, who just chuckled and ran a hand through your hair. “tough day, y/n?” “s-shut up, i’ve had enough bullying for one day.” 

“i messed up.” mingi mumbled, plopping down on the soft grass next to maddox, who only sighed in response. “what did you do this time?” “i might’ve lashed out.” “lovers’ quarrel?” “would you quit that? no, it wasn’t a lovers quarrel, i just- i don’t know, i guess i was so conflicted about my feelings that i took my anger out on her. what do i do?” “apologize.” “i-it’s not that easy, you know.” though mingi wasn’t looking in his direction, he could tell that his mentor was rolling in his eyes in exasperation. “it is, actually, you just walk up to her, say i’m sorry, and then you two live happily ever after for the rest of your days.”

 mingi frowned. “i’m serious.” “i am too. look, kid, if you’re not going to apologize, then i’ll do it for you.” “please don’t.” “i will if you would stop being a coward.” “i-i’m not a coward, she just makes me nervous, that’s all.” “i know it’s difficult, but if you don’t tell her how you feel soon, she might move on and find someone else.” “y-yeah, like who?” maddox shrugged. “i don’t know, maybe one of those muses she always hangs around.” “what? what muses?” “the muses? you seriously don’t know them?” “i-i do, i just have never seen them.” “well, she’s always around them, and they’re all pretty handsome, so i suggest you hurry up and profess your love or whatever before one of them steal her away.”

 “they could probably treat her better than me anyways.” he mumbled, which earned him an elbow to the ribs. “what was that for?” “would you quit being so pitiful? you never know until you try, and besides, i think she might feel the same.” “doubt it, but fine, i’ll try.” maddox grinned, reaching out and patting his shoulder gently. “that’s the spirit, kid.”

 the late afternoon sun bathed the forest in light as mingi leaned against a tree, ignoring how the rough bark dug into his back. his heart leaped in his chest as he heard soft footsteps approaching, and felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you. you were a vision in a light pink toga that stood out against your skin, dark hair framing your face perfectly. “hi wonderboy.” you called out, and mingi felt his face flush at the mere sound of your voice. 

“h-hi.” “why did you want to see me?” “i wanted to apologize for how i acted the other day. i wasn’t feeling the greatest, and i took my annoyance out on you.” “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. although, my friends were quite worried and threatened to beat you up.” mingi winced. you laughed softly. “don’t worry. my friends are harmless even though they act like they aren’t sometimes.” “so, i’m forgiven, then?” “mingi, you were forgiven the moment you sent a scroll asking to talk to me.” you shrugged. “besides, i wasn’t offended, i just figured you were having a bad day, like you said.” mingi allowed himself a smile, and felt his pulse race when you returned it. 

“so, how’d it go with mingi?” wooyoung asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. seonghwa rolled his eyes and smacked the former lightly on the shoulder. “will you quit that?” the blond male only huffed in protest, but the curious glint never left his eyes. “what’s there to tell? he apologized, and that was it.” “seriously? no passionate kiss in the forest? no getting pressed up against a tree and making out? nothing? not even a kiss on the cheek? you two are so lame.” wooyoung sighed, dramatically falling into yeosang’s lap, who rolled his eyes in response. 

“jung wooyoung, if you don’t shut up right now, i will not hesitate to-” “yeah, yeah, i know, throw me into the depths of the underworld.” “exactly.” “it’s what you deserve, honestly.” yeosang mumbled, but made no move to shove the aforementioned muse off his lap. “yeosang! i thought we were friends.” “if you call barely tolerating you on a daily basis, then yes.” 

you laughed in amusement at their incessant bickering. “yeosang, stop being so harsh on wooyoung. he’s sensitive, you know.” “i am not!” the dance muse protested. hongjoong scoffed, not looking up from the elaborate flower crown he was making, rolling his eyes. “says the guy who wouldn’t stop sulking after san ignored him for a whole day because he accidentally spilled wine on his brand new toga.” “it was a whole week, and it hurt!” 

san sighed. “why am i friends with this idiot?” “because you love me.” “believe what you want, wooyoung.” jongho rolled his eyes. “hongjoong hyung!” said muse looked up from his now finished flower crown, carefully placing it on his head, hazel eyes widening in surprise. “yes, jongho?” “c-could you help me with this verse for a hymn? been stuck on it for days.”

 hongjoong’s face broke out into a wide smile, eyes turning into crescents, then flung himself at seonghwa, who stumbled a bit from the sudden attack, but recovered and wrapped his arms around the former, holding him tight. “what’s wrong, joong?” he asked, voice as gentle as ever, but the amused smile tugging at his lips was obvious. “j-jongho finally asked me to h-help him.” hongjoong wailed, burying his face into seonghwa’s chest, soft sobs wracking his body. seonghwa bit back a laugh as he patted hongjoong’s head gently. 

“are those tears of joy? or?” you laughed, reaching out and patting jongho’s shoulder gently. “definitely tears of joy. he’s been waiting for this moment for a millennia.” “finally, i’ve been spared!” yeosang cried out happily. jongho huffed. “i hate you.” yeosang only beamed. “love you too!” you rolled your eyes at their bickering. “have fun writing with hongjoong, he’s really been waiting for this day for ages.” jongho sighed. “i know. he wouldn’t stop whining to seonghwa hyung about it.” “yeah, i know, he’s also complained to me too.” “jongho! hurry up!” hongjoong called. 

you laughed at the embarrassment on jongho’s face as he mumbled his goodbyes and ran over to hongjoong, both of them disappearing behind an alcove of trees seconds later. “he must be really happy, huh?” “yeah, he is.” 

“how are things with mingi?” seonghwa inquired once everyone was distracted with the field of flowers a few feet away, marveling at the colorful petals. “honestly? i’m not sure. we’re not lovers, after all. i don’t even know if we’re friends. i guess we’re just acquaintances?” seonghwa rolled his eyes. “so, you’re telling me that after all the encounters you’ve had with each other that your relationship with him is still unknown?” you smiled sheepishly. “i-i guess?” the silver haired male sighed in exasperation. “you two are giving me a headache.” you laughed, leaning against seonghwa’s side, resting your head on his shoulder. the aforementioned muse immediately wrapped an arm around you. “but you love me.” “yeah, yeah.” you smiled, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s warmth and allowing a comfortable silence to settle between the two of you. 

“mingi dare not break her heart, or i will personally throw him into the depths of the underworld.” wooyoung muttered, breaking off a petal of the rose he had in his hand, letting it gently float in the wind before settling peacefully in the grass around him. “stop destroying nature, would you?” san scolded, snatching the rose out of wooyoung’s hand, earning a squawk of protest from the latter. “while i agree with you, woo, i don’t think we should just charge at him like a minotaur gone truly mad.” “then, what do you think we should do, oh wise one?” 

“we should just talk to him, peacefully and without violence?” wooyoung scoffed. “that’s a terrible idea. do you want y/n’s heart to be broken?” “of course not, it’s just- he’s stronger than all of us, there’s no way any of us could take him in a real fight.” “yunho’s right, we’re all as thin as wheat and can’t lift anything remotely heavy.” “that’s not true! we’re not that weak!” yeosang rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. 

“why are we discussing murder?” a voice cut in, interrupting their conversation. yunho turned and saw seonghwa standing at the entrance of the garden, lean arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes twinkling with amusement. you were beside him, looking as equally amused as the former. “we’re not discussing murder, we’re just-” san slapped a hand over wooyoung’s mouth before he could continue, smiling nervously, ignoring how the latter squirmed, mumbling something incoherent.  “we were discussing just how much of a great person you are, hyung.” 

seonghwa bit back a laugh. “is that so?” “yes, of course! we would never think of murdering anyone! we’re too innocent and pure to commit such a wicked act!” unlike seonghwa, you laughed, the sound ringing in the air. “you are all so dramatic.” “ i honestly don’t know why i’m still hanging around you all.” “that’s because you have no other friends than us, yeosang.” wooyoung chirped, earning him a glare from the comedy muse. 

“please don’t start fights, especially with mingi. i don’t want to see any of you hurt.” wooyoung beamed, throwing himself onto seonghwa, hugging him tightly. “so you do love us, hyung!” the older rolled his eyes. “no, i’m just tired of you all being a pain in my ass all the time. so please save me the trouble and not try to kill anyone, ok?” san pouted. “you’re so cruel, hyung!” “believe what you want, san.” “anyways, do you know when hongjoong and jongho will be back? they need to help out with supper later.” “well, they’re probably going to be done, at least, hopefully, before the sun sets.” “ok, then i’ll just go gather the vegetables and fruit.” 

“hwa, i might need some help, that is, if you’re willing to.” seonghwa smiled, expression soft and gentle. “of course, i’d be happy to.” as soon as they were out of earshot, wooyoung leaned forward, making sure to keep his voice as low as possible. 

“is it just me, or is seonghwa hyung in love?” yeosang rolled his eyes, smacking the blond haired muse on the shoulder. “quit being delusional, seonghwa hyung’s always looked at her like that, we all do, you know. he cares about her just like he does the rest of us. besides, even if seonghwa hyung felt any sort of romantic way about y/n, she wouldn’t return his feelings and he’d get heartbroken.” “you never know! she could just be trying to use mingi as a distraction to get her mind off of him.” “you’re by far the dumbest person i know, woo.” “i know what i saw, yeosang!” “then prove it.” “what?” “if you can prove to me that seonghwa hyung really has feelings for y/n that are far from platonic, then i will not pick on you for a whole year.” wooyoung’s eyes brightened with determination. “get ready to bite back your words!” “can’t wait.” 

mingi softly hummed to himself as he walked through the forest, admiring how the sun shone through the leaves, bathing it in golden beams of light. his last meeting with you had gone well, better than he expected. “daydreaming about going on picnic dates with your girlfriend?” “no, and she’s not my girlfriend.” “sure, sure, keep lying to yourself.” “why did you even go with me? aren’t you supposed to be, i don’t know, doing important things?” 

maddox scoffed. “please, as if the officials need me for anything.” his mentor made subsequent trips to the heart of the city, where the council presided, looking over and approving laws. a comfortable silence settled around them as they continued on through the forest. 

suddenly, they heard laughter from a few feet away. and before mingi could say anything, maddox grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of said laughter. “what are you doing?” “you’re not curious where the laughter is coming from?” “not really-” he was cut off a few seconds later when maddox suddenly stopped in his tracks. “what’s wrong?”

“kid, i’m sorry.” “about what?” he ignored maddox as he tried to prevent him from going past. mingi froze when he saw what maddox had been trying to prevent him from seeing. it was you, looking as beautiful as ever in a dark blue toga, holding a basket full of vegetables and fruit. but you were not alone. a tall male with silver hair, dressed in a white toga, an impossibly soft smile on his face, stood next to you. then, said male took the basket from you, pulling you into his side and wrapping a slender arm around your waist. 

mingi waited for you to push him away, which otherwise never occurred.  then, what came next felt as if his heart was going to be ripped out of his chest. you smiled and leaned into the male’s embrace, resting your head on his shoulder. he had had enough. mingi fought back tears as he ran away, ignoring maddox calling his name in the distance. 

“calm down!” maddox shouted, gripping mingi’s shoulders tightly. “why should i? after what i saw?” “you know, there’s such a thing as jumping to conclusions, which is exactly what you’re doing right now! and even if that guy was her lover, what does it matter to you? you’re not together anyway, right?” “i’m fully aware of that, but it still hurts just as much. i need to be alone.” mingi mumbled, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. as soon as the grip on his shoulder loosened, he ran off into the forest, vision blurring. 

dinner consisted of fruit and vegetables, along with a few quail eggs that seonghwa had managed to pick up at the market earlier that day. the early evening air was cool and crisp, and there was a light breeze that caused the leaves to sway gently. “were you able to write the hymn?” jongho nodded as he popped a strawberry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “it wasn’t easy, but it is finished.” seonghwa smiled fondly, reaching out and ruffling the younger’s hair affectionately. “i’m glad.”  “did you spend time with y/n today?” wooyoung blurted, light blue eyes glimmering with anticipation, “yes, yes i did. we gathered the fruits and vegetables for supper. why?” “no reason hyung, just curious.” he mumbled, taking a sip of wine. seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t press further. yeosang pursed his lips tightly and looked away, trying to will himself to disappear. the former shrugged and merely got up and walked away to the center of the garden. 

once he was out of earshot, yeosang elbowed wooyoung in the side, causing the latter to cry out in protest. “what was that for?” “could you be any more obvious?” “what are you talking about? i was very subtle!” yeosang rolled his eyes. “you were not.” “do you really think seonghwa hyung doesn’t have any sort of romantic feelings towards y/n?” “i really do.” “i will prove you wrong, just you wait!” “i’ll be waiting for the day when you do.” 

you sat underneath a tree with seonghwa, curled up into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. the night sky was glittering with stars, bathing the garden in soft white light. “do you think my relationship with mingi will become something more?” “i can’t give you a sure answer, but i think if you allow a space for him in your heart, then maybe something will happen.” 

“when did you get so…” “cheesy? romantic? well, i am the muse of love poetry, in case you forgot.” “right, you write cheesy poems for a living.” “my poems are masterpieces, just so you know.” “i apologize, oh humble one. i did not mean to slander your poems, which a truly a gift to mankind.” “stop feeding my ego.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s side. “ok, ok, i’ll stop.” 

“this is going to sound very cliché and cheesy-” “darling, please, i write romantic poems for a living. try me.” “i just- i’m grateful.” “for what?” “for not neglecting me. for taking care of me when i had no one else, and for giving me a home when my parents left me all alone, defenseless and starving.” you hadn’t realized you were crying until seonghwa pulled you into a warm and tight embrace, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “let it out, it’s okay.” “i’m sorry for breaking down like this, but-” “don’t apologize, darling. we are always here for you, and it’s perfectly okay to have an off day, we’ve all been there.” “i just-” “you don’t need to explain yourself, you never do. just promise me you won’t hide your pain from us? we hate to see you miserable.” 

you nodded, leaning further into seonghwa’s embrace, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of roses hitting your nose. the smell was comforting, and you felt your eyelids droop, and you let sleep take over. seonghwa smiled fondly at the sleeping girl in his arms, looking peaceful and at ease. he brushed a stray strand of hair off your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. the night was cool and crisp and tame, just how seonghwa preferred it to be. 

“hyung?” a quiet voice said behind him. he turned around, careful not to wake you, and saw yeosang standing behind him.“yeosang? what is it? is something wrong?” san hesitated as he saw the immediate concern on seonghwa’s face. “i- i just wanted to see if y/n’s alright.” “she’s fine, just tired. why?” “ah, no reason, just curious.” “san, are you ok? you’re acting a bit strange.” “i’m alright, just tired. wooyoung ‘s been a pain in my ass all day.” seonghwa chuckled at that. “perfectly understandable. wooyoung can be quite the handful sometimes.” 

yeosang gave the older an awkward wave, trying not to run away in embarrassment across the grass. as soon as he plopped down next to wooyoung, said male turned to him anticipation. “so, what did you see?” “she was asleep in seonghwa hyung’s arms; they were practically cuddling.” wooyoung clapped excitedly, and yeosang smacked him on the shoulder. “cut that out. just because i caught them cuddling doesn’t prove anything. she’s fallen asleep on all of us at some point.” “was she on his lap?” “what in tarturus? no, of course not.” “she was curled up in his arms, that’s all.” 

“are you seriously still convinced that seonghwa hyung doesn’t pine for her?” yeosang sighed. “look, wooyoung, you should really just give up on this, i mean, don’t you think trying to prove something that you know isn’t true a waste of time?” “it may be to you, but not to me! he loves her, i’m sure of it!” “just don’t go overboard, ok?” “i won’t, i swear on the river styx.” “i sense empty promises, but fine.” 

mingi sat on the edge of a ravine, feet dangling dangerously in the air, dried tears on his cheeks. he didn’t know when the crying had stopped, nor did he know how he ended up at the very edge of the forest. maddox was standing a few feet away, giving him space, which mingi was grateful for. his mind was swimming with thoughts and his heart ached. 

he felt pathetic, for even thinking that someone like him had a chance with you. you looked happy, happier than he had ever seen you. there was a part of him that was happy that you were being cherished, for it was what you truly deserved. i was foolish to think that she ever showed any interest in me as a lover, mingi thought glumly, fighting back another deluge of tears. he heard soft footsteps behind him and a few seconds later, a warm and gentle hand was on his shoulder. mingi sighed. “are you going to give me a lecture about how much of a fool i am?” “of course not, and you’re anything but that.” he let out a bitter, sad laugh. “how would you know that?” “because i’ve been your mentor for years, and while you were a bit clumsy at first, you persisted.” “what are you trying to say?” “i’m trying to tell you that you shouldn’t give up! so what if she has a potential suitor? make her see what she’s missing!” “you want me to make her jealous?” “exactly! then she’ll realize just how much of a great hero and guy you are, and then she’ll practically beg for you to be her lover.” mingi shook his head. “there’s no way in tarturus i’m doing that.” “why not?!” “i don’t want to make anger her for my personal gain, it’s not right.” 

“ok, then, what do you think you should do?” “you saw her! she looks happy, and i don’t want to ruin that for her. i should try to move on.” maddox sighed. “do you even know who she was with?” “n-no? should i know him?” “do you remember when i mentioned the muses?” “vaguely.” 

his mentor rolled his eyes. “anyway, the guy you saw her with was one of the nine muses.” “w-what? how did you know?” “i thought it was pretty clear.” “how can you-” “centuries ago, they attended one of the council meetings. the muse you saw her with was the one who did most of the talking.” “i thought muses didn’t involve themselves with the council.” “they don’t, but maybe they had a reason to.” 

“that doesn’t mean anything, he could be her lover.” “believe what you want, kid. i’m not going to attempt to convince you otherwise. just don’t sulk about it too much.” with that, maddox walked away, leaving him with his thoughts and a heavy heart. 

“are you close with seonghwa hyung?” you laughed, carefully rolling up another scroll and placing it back on the massive shelf in front of you. “what do you mean, woo? i’m close with all of you.” “i know that, but-” “but?” “never mind.” wooyoung mumbled, plopping down on a nearby chair, lips forming a visible pout. you sighed in exasperation, walking over to said sulking male, ruffling his hair affectionately. “what’s wrong, woo?” “nothing, i’m just tired from yesterday evening, i suppose.” “oh, well, why did you come along with me, then? you didn’t have to, i know reading scrolls can be quite a bore.” “i didn’t want to leave you all alone. if something happened to you, seonghwa hyung would have my head.” you smiled, pulling the dance muse into a tight embrace. “wooyoung, that’s very sweet of you, but you know i can handle myself.” 

“i know, but if hades-” “he hasn’t come after me yet, and i doubt he will soon. even if he does, he won’t hurt me, at least, not enough to kill me.” “y/n! don’t say that! we wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if something happened to you.” you felt your heart ache and hugged wooyoung tighter. “i’m sorry for saying that, i just-” “it’s ok, y/n. just promise me that you’ll let us protect you?” you nodded. “i will, i promise.” 

“what do you think of y/n?” yeosang asked, quite abruptly at that, and seonghwa felt his eyes widen in shock at the sudden bluntness. “i don’t quite understand the question, yeosang, i-” “just answer it.” “ok, ok, uhm, well, she’s….” the former gestured for seonghwa to continue. “she’s wonderful. she’s very caring, loving, and is very selfless. y/n is always there for us, always.” 

yeosang felt guilt rising in his stomach. he hated lying to seonghwa, especially after he now knew that wooyoung was completely wrong about how the older felt about y/n. at least, it was clear to him that she was nothing more than a dear friend, a sister, even. “are you alright?” yeosang snapped out of his thoughts, giving a worried seonghwa a half smile that he hoped was convincing enough. “i’m fine, just exhausted.” 

seonghwa’s golden eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t press further. “i have to go help y/n with something, i’ll see you in the evening?” yeosang managed a brief nod before the former walked off. 

he sighed, leaning back on the rough bark of a tree behind him. things were definitely going to get even more complicated, and yeosang wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest. 

“don’t you think wooyoung and yeosang are being a little... “ “strange?” “i suppose? wooyoung asked me if i’m close to you.” seonghwa raised an amused eyebrow, carefully rolling up a scroll. “close in what way?” suprisingly, you felt your cheeks flush scarlet. “i-” “as lovers?” “y-yes.” “ah, well, that is quite amusing.” “is it?” seonghwa nodded, golden eyes twinkling with mirth. “you are not angry?” “why would i be angry? any man would be lucky to have you.” “thank you, hwa.” his expression softened, if that was even possible. you smiled, carefully pulling another scroll from the shelf. “i’ve always loved coming here.” “i know. whenever we visited the town, you would beg us to take you to the library so you could read scrolls.” you blushed. “that must’ve been quite irritating.” 

seonghwa shook his head. “not at all, it was quite endearing.” “i’ve always loved stories, even as a child. though i don’t remember much about my parents, i know they always told me them to help me sleep. that is, before they abandoned me.” you didn’t even realize you were crying until strong arms were around you, pulling you into a comforting and tight embrace. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m being so emotional all the time. you must think i’m being dramatic.” seonghwa scoffed. “you are not. i’m the one who should be asking for your forgiveness.” “hwa-” “hear me out, ok? i was the one who suggested we come here, and that was a terrible thing to do, because it surfaced tragic memories of your past. i’m so sorry, darling, i should’ve been more considerate-” 

“hwa, listen to me. it was not your fault. you didn’t know, and besides, i think it’s important for me to bring the painful memories to light instead of dwelling on them. i’ve been resenting my parents for centuries, and i think it’s time i start trying to forgive them.” seonghwa’s expression softened, as it always seemed to whenever he looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “if you need any assistance, i’m here for you, and so are the others.” “i know, thank you, hwa. i really don’t know what i would do without any of you in my life.” 

“that was extremely cliché, but i’ll let it slide because the feeling is mutual.” “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?” seonghwa laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “i know, but you love me.” “correction, i tolerate you, there’s a difference.” that earned you a light shove to the shoulder, and you couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, feeling lighter than you had been in centuries. 

 nearby, certain muses were deep in conversation. “wooyoung, i really think we should put an end to our bet, i mean, there’s no point anymore.” “why? did seonghwa hyung tell you something? or did you tell him about it?” yeosang sighed in frustration. “i didn’t tell him anything, i just really think it would be best to stop.” wooyoung huffed. “how can you be so sure?” “i just- look, i really don’t think seonghwa hyung loves y/n in a romantic way.” “suit yourself, yeosang, i’m going to prove it.” “do what you want.” 

“kid, are you even listening to me?” maddox’s worried voice snapped mingi out of the trance he’d been under, bringing him back to reality. the former sighed. “let’s take a break.” mingi nodded, carefully putting the bow and arrow he’d been holding off to the side, plopping down onto the soft grass beneath him, the blades tickling his bare legs. “are you alright?” maddox asked, his voice unusually soft, as if mingi were a fawn that would run away the instant it heard a loud noise. mingi didn’t reply, just shook his head softly and hugged his knees to his chest, somehow managing to look small and almost vulnerable, despite his bulk. 

maddox sighed, settling down beside him on the grass. “i know that sulking over unrequited love is trivial and a little pathetic of me-” “it’s not pathetic. you’re heartbroken, and it’s okay to sulk.” mingi managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.” “i’ve never felt this way about anyone, and i know that’s cliché, but it’s true. she’s the only girl who doesn’t fawn over me like everyone else, she doesn’t even know about my being a hero or slaying monsters!” “she knows you as mingi, not mingi the hero.” “yes, and that simple fact makes it hurt even more.”  

mingi didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “it’s okay, kid, let it out. i’m sorry for pushing you too hard to train. i didn’t realize you were still grieving.” “stop making it sound as if i’m mourning the loss of a loved one.” mingi scolded, but it was light-hearted. “i’ll be okay, i just need time.” “take all the time you need, i’ll be here for you if you ever need a shoulder to cry on.” “thank you.” “i’ll likely forget about her, so don’t get your hopes up.” maddox grimaced. he knew that mingi would most definitely not do such a thing, and that he would sulk about her for gods knew how long. i just hope he doesn’t completely fall apart, maddox thought, fighting back tears. 

seonghwa hummed softly to himself as he admired the deep purple hyacinths on either side of him, contrasting greatly with the forest green of the grass. the day was perfect, with a light, refreshing breeze tugging at his hair and toga, ruffling the leaves and branches of trees, the sky cloudless and blue, and the sun shining golden beams of light upon the earth. the air was just the right temperature, and seonghwa absolutely adored days like these. 

wooyoung, jongho, yeosang, and san had all gone to the town marketplace to find food for supper, and you and hongjoong were in the center of the garden, weaving flower crowns, which left seonghwa by himself for a bit. not that he minded, of course, seonghwa secretly enjoyed it when he got some time for himself, so he can be alone with his thoughts. 

while he loved his fellow muses dearly, it could get overwhelming to be around them at times. seonghwa never took the moments he got to himself for granted, for they were rare. seonghwa was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you settling down on the grass beside him, a hand woven crown of roses on your head. “hwa?” you asked, which made him jump in surprise. 

“when did you get here?” “about a few seconds ago, why?” “no reason, just, you scared me, is all.” you smiled in amusement. “you’re always so easily startled, huh?” seonghwa felt his face flush scarlet. “weren’t you with hongjoong?” “i was, but he insisted i keep you company.” “i hope i’m not bothering you, you seemed like you wanted to be alone for a while.” 

seonghwa nodded sheepishly. “well, one part of that is true.” “which one?” “the second, because you could never bother me.” that earned him a light shove to the shoulder. “when did you get so cheesy?” “i’m the muse of love poetry, cheesy is all i know how to write.” you laughed, and seonghwa ignored the way his heart sped up a bit at the sound. “what were you thinking about?” “you don’t have to tell me, of course, only if you’re willing.” “it’s okay, i wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, actually.” “just daydreaming then?” seonghwa smiled. “perhaps.” 

you returned his smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sight made seonghwa’s heart clench painfully. he felt his pulse race as you moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, all the while making sure not to crumple your flower crown. you’d done this many times before, but it never failed to make seonghwa’s heart race. he knew it was pathetic and silly to harbor feelings for someone who would never return them, but he couldn’t help it. you were kind, loving, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and whenever you looked at him, it felt like a punch to the gut. he loved the way your expression would brighten when visiting the town library, looking at various scrolls. most off all, he loved how selfless you were, and that you would do anything for the ones you loved.

while it was extremely painful to see you long for someone else, you were at least happy, and that was all that mattered to seonghwa. you deserved someone who would cherish you for the rest of your life, and who would never hurt you. seonghwa ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as you snuggled closer into his side. as if on impulse, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, your bare skin warm against his own, and held you tight. “are you alright?” “yes, just a bit exhausted. is it alright if i take a short nap?” “go ahead, i’ll wake you once it’s time for supper.” you shot him a grateful smile, and seconds later, you were fast asleep. seonghwa sighed heavily, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands to hide the blush that was forming on his face. i need to get ahold of myself, he thought. 

wooyoung hid the smirk that was tugging at his lips as he caught sight of you cuddled up against seonghwa, resting your head on his shoulder. “ what are you doing?” a voice asked, which made wooyoung jump in shock. “san! did you have to sneak up on me like that?” said male rolled his eyes. “i didn’t sneak up on you, you were just too busy staring at seonghwa and y/n that you didn’t notice.” 

“are you stalking them or something?” wooyoung huffed in frustration and hit san gently on the shoulder. “i am doing nothing of the sort!” “then, what are you doing?” “i’m observing?” “seriously, woo?” what? just think of it as supervising.” san just sighed in frustration. “you really expect me to believe that? y/n can take care of herself, and seonghwa would rather get thrown into the depths of the underworld than even think of hurting her. what’s the real reason you’re watching them like a creep?” wooyoung sighed. “keep this a secret, okay?” san nodded. though his expression seemed uninterested, his violet eyes were glinting with curiosity. when wooyoung was done explaining, san burst out laughing. 

“you think i’m insane, don’t you?” “uh, yeah, i kind of do.” “look, woo, do you really believe that seonghwa hyung is in love with y/n? don’t you think that’s a little… i don’t know, impossible?” “anything is possible, san!” “yes, but not that.” “why? why does everyone think i’m crazy for this?” “wooyoung’s right, san.” they turned and saw hongjoong standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. “how long have you been standing there?” 

hongjoong shrugged. “long enough.” “wait, what? what do you mean i’m right?” “you’re right about seonghwa.” wooyoung let out a small whoop of triumph, while san looked at hongjoong in utter disbelief. “what in tartarus? how do you know that?” “because he told me.” “when?” wooyoung asked, practically beaming. “centuries ago.” “wait, so seonghwa hyung’s liked her for that long?!” hongjoong grimaced. “ah, it’s actually the opposite of that.” “he loves her?!” san blurted, and wooyoung slapped a hand over his mouth. “don’t be so loud! seonghwa hyung’s nearby, he might hear you!” he hissed. 

“when did you notice?” wooyoung asked, slowly taking his hand off san’s mouth, who glared at him in return. “i thought it was pretty obvious, and honestly, i’m quite surprised no one picked up on it sooner.” “so, when did he tell you?” “i don’t remember exactly, but i’m pretty sure it was when y/n was in the garden with you guys and seonghwa and i went somewhere to talk in secret. he was extremely anxious.” 

(six centuries ago)

 hongjoong let out a cry of protest as seonghwa led him into a more secluded part of the garden, anxiety rolling off the latter in waves. the late afternoon sun cast golden beams of light on the soft patches of green grass. the air was crisp and cool, and the weather had never been more perfect. “what’s wrong?” seonghwa hesitated, rocking back and forth on his heels. “i-i love someone.” hongjoong’s eyes widened. “what?” “i know it’s sudden of me to say something so bold, but i-i know that i love her.” “who is she? do we know her?” seonghwa chuckled, golden eyes shining with an emotion that hongjoong had never seen him express before. “yes, you know her, very well, in fact.” hongjoong furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking about which female in the entirety of athens seonghwa had his heart set on, and suddenly, it clicked. the gentle and soft gazes he’d send your way, the way he’d look at you as if you were the only star in the sky, and the way he handed you a basket of flowers or even a piece of fruit were all telltale signs that seonghwa was irrevocably smitten, and yet hongjoong hadn’t realized it until now. “i- when did you realize that you loved her?” seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, color staining his cheeks. “do you remember that city official that started to insult y/n the day we went to the market?” hongjoong grimaced at the memory. “of course, how could i forget? i was  tempted to throw him into the depths of tarturus.” “she defended herself before we could, despite having tears in her eyes. she was so strong, and i admired her for that. i knew that she was not a damsel in distress, and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but i’ve always felt i need to protect her, to shield her from harm. isn’t that so selfish of me?” seonghwa asked, laughing bitterly. “it’s not selfish, it just shows how much you love her.” “i suppose. hongjoong, promise me that this will stay between us?” “of course.” hongjoong said, swallowing against the bile in his throat. the smile that seonghwa sent his way afterwards, bright and hopeful, made his stomach churn with guilt. 

“that day was the worst, i was going to kill him if someone didn’t stop me.” san hissed, glaring at hongjoong, who rolled his eyes. “i’m sorry i foiled your plans of vengeance, but seonghwa would’ve killed me if anything happened to any of you.” “seonghwa hyung really is in love with y/n.” wooyoung mumbled, looking dazed, as if he had been in a trance. “yes, he is. now, you two have to promise me that this stays between us. seonghwa cannot know that i told you.” 

san pursed his lips tightly. “i hate keeping secrets from him.” “i know, but if finds out that i told you this, he will never forgive me, and i can’t live with myself knowing that i hurt seonghwa.” san looked as if he’d rather jump into the river of souls than agree to it, but just sighed and gave hongjoong a small nod. “fine, but don’t make me regret this.” 

hongjoong gave the younger a grateful smile.” thank you, san.” “i’ll also keep this from seonghwa hyung, but it’s not going to be easy.” “i know, just try your hardest not to tell him.” wooyoung also looked as if he were going to object, but managed a miniscule nod. “i just hope that no one gets hurt in the end.” hongjoong felt dread pool in his stomach at the thought of seonghwa looking at him with absolute hatred and sadness in his eyes, and forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face. “time will tell.” 

after the confrontation with san and wooyoung, hongjoong headed to another secluded part of the garden, feeling dazed. he settled onto a soft patch of grass, stretching his legs and basking in the late afternoon sun. though the weather usually lifted hongjoong’s spirits, today, it did nothing to distract him from the immense guilt he felt. he knew it wasn’t his right to tell seonghwa’s secret, but he had just suddenly gotten the urge to, after overhearing wooyoung and san’s conversation. hongjoong sighed, reaching up and rubbing at his temples. he would be doomed if seonghwa ever came to know that his secret had been disclosed, especially since he’d promised all those centuries ago not to tell anyone. 

“joong?” a soft voice said, and hongjoong looked up to see you standing over him, an amused smile on your face. “y/n?” “taking a nap?” you asked, settling down beside him, your sky blue robes bright against the green grass. hongjoong shook his head. “no, just thinking.” “about what? you don’t have to tell me, of course, i’m just curious.” “well, honestly, it wasn’t anything important.” you didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t press further, much to hongjoong’s relief. “can i talk to you about something?” “of course, anything.” hongjoong said, immediately sitting up and moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “what’s troubling you?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “it’s seonghwa.” “what about him? is he being an asshole?” you laughed softly. “no, of course not. hwa’s one of the sweetest, gentlest, most patient, loving, and selfless people i know. he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.” “

then, what’s wrong?” “i- is he in pain?” “what do you mean?” “is he pining for a lost love?” hongjoong felt his stomach coil with nerves. “why do you ask?” “i’ve noticed the way he looks at me, almost as if i remind him of someone who hurt him.” no, it’s because seonghwa’s in love with you, but he’s not saying anything because he knows you will not return his feelings, hongjoong thought sadly. “is he hurting because of me? did i do something?” you sounded so sad, so lost, and hongjoong’s heart ached. “no, of course not. seonghwa’s always been one to wander off into his own thoughts and keep his feelings to himself. he doesn’t want us worrying about him. he’s probably just daydreaming or exhausted.” “i suppose.” you murmured, snuggling deeper into hongjoong’s side. hongjoong forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face and held you tighter. 

mingi loosed a breath as he let an arrow fly, allowing a small smile when it struck the center of the target. the air was warm but not too humid, and he loved when the sun would shine through the trees, bathing the forest in golden light. it was late afternoon, and he had finally gotten out of bed after a while to train. maddox had had business in town, so that left him alone for the day. 

he sighed and propped his bow against a tree, practically collapsing onto the soft grass. it’d been a long few days, of which were mainly spent crying until his throat and eyes hurt, or until maddox threatened to throw him into the river if he wouldn’t stop sulking. ever since that day, mingi had been trying his best to heal from the heartbreak he experienced. it was a bit pathetic that he was so devastated over a girl that he barely knew, but in some ways, he felt drawn to you. he felt as if there was something that intrigued him about you, but couldn’t quite name the cause. he supposed that as long as you were happy and that you were being treated well, there was nothing he could do. after all, he was a hero, destined to save athens or whatever fairy-tale shit maddox ranted about constantly, and if you were together, you would be in constant danger. mingi knew he couldn’t live with himself if anyone he loved got hurt or killed, and the image of you being stabbed or becoming lifeless in his arms sent a shudder through his body. mingi closed his eyes and let the tears fall, wondering if he would ever get his so-called “happy ending.” 

yunho laid next to wooyoung on the worn blanket seonghwa had found lying around the cottage, and looked up at the night sky, stars glittering like precious jewels. the air was crisp and cool, and he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. yunho turned his head slightly to see you and san sitting on a patch of soft grass, your head resting on his shoulder. “penny for your thoughts?” wooyoung said, snapping yunho back to reality. he felt his face flush scarlet at the knowing smirk on wooyoung’s face, and swatted at him with his hand, causing the younger to laugh. “i do not feel that way about y/n, if that’s what you’re thinking.” wooyoung rolled his eyes. “i know you don’t, i was just teasing you.” a comfortable silence settled between them, and yunho sighed, turning his attention back to the stars, mind wandering once again. dinner had been normal, with the occasional light chatter and wooyoung and san bickering over trivial matters, but the aftermath had been quite strange. san had given wooyoung a look that clearly said ”don’t you dare speak another word or i will throw you into the river” , and the latter had whined in protest, but didn’t say anything else after. yunho had looked at them with utter confusion, wondering what in zeus’ name they’d been arguing about, but didn’t bother to ask. he just hoped that whatever secret they were keeping wouldn’t cause any conflict. 

you sighed, snuggling deeper into san’s side for warmth, and said male wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “tired?” he asked. you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “did seonghwa nag you too much today?” he asked, voice light and teasing. you rolled your eyes playfully. “no, he didn’t. today was just a long one, that’s all.” san hummed in agreement, squeezing your shoulder gently, as if in comfort. you shifted so that you were now lying on his lap, and he chuckled softly, playing with the loose strands of your hair. “are you really going to use my lap as a pillow?” “yes, is there a problem?” san shook his head. “of course not, you know i was just teasing.” “san?” “hmm?” “thank you.” “for what, love?” “no reason, i’m just glad you’re in my life.” “when did you get so cheesy? you’ve really been spending way too much time with seonghwa hyung.” you flelt your face flush scarlet. “s-shut up, i’m trying to be sentimental and you’re ruining the moment.” san laughed, patting your head gently. “ok, ok, fine.” you soon fell asleep to san humming softly. 

san smiled as you slept, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of your hair, humming a song he’d heard jongho sing once, and leaned back against the rough bark of the eucalyptus tree that took up one side of the garden, letting his mind wander. dinner had been interesting, and he grimaced as he remembered how wooyoung had nearly let seonghwa’s secret come to light. wooyoung needs to be more cautious, otherwise, seonghwa hyung might never forgive hongjoong hyung for telling us his secret. 

it was also where he noticed firsthand that seonghwa was irrevocably and utterly in love with y/n, despite knowing that his feelings would never be returned. san didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before. it was evident in the way seonghwa would look at you, as if you were the only star in the sky, and even a small gesture as handing you a piece of bread from across the table. his fingers always seemed to brush against yours in such an intimate way that san felt himself blush and look away. 

san winced as he recalled the conversation with hongjoong and wooyoung earlier that evening, and his heart ached for seonghwa, whose love was unrequited, and for hongjoong, who had succumbed to the pressure of keeping such a secret that he told him and wooyoung. he felt as if they didn’t deserve to know, for the secret felt so personal to seonghwa, and san knew that he would be devastated if he knew that hongjoong had told them. holding back tears, san closed his eyes and let sleep take over. 

mingi woke to maddox gently shaking him, whispering fervently. he sat up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “what is it? did something happen?” even in the darkness of the cottage, he could make out the pale and ashen color of maddox’s face, and his stomach coiled with fear. his mentor gulped nervously before replying, his voice barely audible. “hades.” “what?” mingi felt blood rushing to his ears, and he felt himself get out of bed, hastily throwing the thin blankets off of him, reaching for his sword, which had been thrown on a pile of old clothes earlier that night. mingi could feel the nervous tension in the air as he loosed a breath and headed out into the cool night, feeling a shiver course through him. maddox was trailing slowly behind him, footsteps quiet and hesitant. 

mingi knew it was extremely foolish to confront hades not properly armed, but at least maddox was with him. now, his mentor wasn’t the strongest or the best fighter, but he could at least try and figure out a way for mingi to escape unscathed, or at least mingi hoped he could. 

the air got thicker with tension as mingi ventured deeper into the forest, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to run away. mingi knew that hades was close by, as the scent of death and smoke filled his nostrils as he neared a more secluded part of the forest, which, ironically, happened to be near a field of blooming hyacinths. the sight that beheld him made his heart drop down into his stomach and his blood run cold. 

you were laying at hades’ feet, pale blue robes streaked with dirt, curled into yourself, as if bracing for an attack that would hopefully never come. mingi ducked behind a tree, hoping it would somehow obscure him from view. “you’re pathetic.” hades hissed, dark eyes flashing with pure disgust. you groaned, neck straining to look up at the god of the dead, expression full of fury and pure hatred. “i thought i made it clear that my relations with you were over.” you seethed, wiping blood from the corner of your mouth. hades laughed, cold and heartless. “you very aware of my conditions when you signed your soul over to me, and one of them was that you will never be free until you fufill my end of our deal. you seemed so willing all those centuries ago, i wonder what changed? is it because you fell in love?” hades sneered, tone dripping with mock cheerfulness. 

you said nothing, clenching your jaw in anger and curling your hand into a fist. hades laughed, the sound hollow and void of emotion. “how touching, you fell in love with the very person you were supposed to lead to his own demise. i assume you want me to spare him?”

you glared at the god of the dead, refusing to show any signs of fear, and mingi’s heart ached at the sight. “no, i very well know that you will kill him anyway, for seeing heroes perish brings you great pleasure.” hades clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “i’m appalled that such a thought would ever cross your mind.” “you’ll spare him, then? if i request it?” hades scoffed. “you’d be foolish to think that i would ever take a request from such a weak and pathetic woman such as yourself.” 

mingi felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly, and didn’t try to resist. “kid, if you go out ther now, you’ll die. hades may be a prick, but he’s powerful, and can most likely turn you into ashes before you can even take a single step.” maddox murmured, voice barely audible, but mingi nodded, a sign that he’d heeded his warning, and the grip on his shoulder loosened. 

seonghwa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you crumpled on the ground, pale blue robes dirty and blood-stained, helpless and injured. it took every ounce of self-control for him not to run over to you and wrap you into his arms and hold you. he knew that you would never forgive yourself if something happened to him or the others, and that you would continue to blame yourself for their deaths, no matter what. seonghwa bit back tears as he watched hades sneer and curse at you, hands curling into his white robes, the soft fabric bunching in his grip. 

the others were fast asleep at the cottage, and that fact alone made seonghwa’s heart settle, just a bit. seonghwa was glad that they weren’t witnessing the horrific scene before him, for he knew that the sight would be too much to bear. 

out of the corner of his eye, he noticed mingi, armed with nothing but a sword, clutching it in his hand tightly, and a shorter man with shoulder length hair was with him, body stiff with tension. it was maddox, who he had seen occasionally at council meetings, quiet but not afraid to speak his mind when needed. 

seonghwa felt his blood run cold when mingi finally stepped out of the shadows, with maddox trying and failing to prevent him from being reckless, and held his sword out in front of him, the silver blade glinting in the dark. 

hades’ dark eyes shifted towards the newcomer, and the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips was enough to make seonghwa shudder with fear. “look who decided to join us. if it isn’t the hero himself.” “let her go.” mingi hissed, body tight with tension. hades chuckled darkly. “and why would i do that? what could a mere human like you offer me, a god?” “it’s me you want dead, isn’t it?” seonghwa’s heart dropped into his stomach at the naked fear on your face, and clutched the fabric of his robe tighter. don’t be so reckless, seonghwa wanted to scream, but he knew that if he were in mingi’s position, he would’ve done the same, so he forced himself to stay quiet. “i would take pleasure in seeing your untimely demise, such is true, but what would you give me in return?”

seonghwa racked his brain for a list of possible things mingi could offer to the god, and cursed under his breath when he realized that the only thing the latter could give hades was his soul. “i’ll trade you my soul, but only if you agree to break the contract you have with her.” 

hades’ dark eyes flashed dangerously. “you do know what selling your soul to me entails?” mingi nodded. in doing so, i enter a state of servitude, until you decide to give me freedom.” 

your eyes widened in horror, and seonghwa watched, heart aching, as you struggled to your feet, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face. “mingi, do not  sacrifice your freedom or your soul for me. i don’t deserve to be saved.” “don’t say such things! you’re brave and selfless and-” “i am not! i’ve been working with hades all this time, trying to find out your weakness so that he may kill you! i don’t deserve to be saved or sought after by someone who is righteous and honest and brave. i-” you broke off at the sight of the confused, angry, and devastated expression on mingi’s face. nearby, hades chuckled darkly. 

“i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, it seems you two have many things to discuss.” hades drawled, tone dripping with mock sympathy. with a flick of his hand and a long, tired sigh, the god of the dead disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. mingi turned his head away, closing his eyes, as if the sight of you was too much for him to bear. 

“why?” mingi asked in a soft voice, confused and hurt. “i did not want you to find out this way, especially with hades in our presence. i never meant to hurt you, i-” 

 “you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you visibly flinched at the uncharacteristic coldness in mingi’s voice, and seonghwa gulped nervously. 

“please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, voice as cold and hard as steel. you reached out helplessly as mingi turned on his heels and walked away, not bothering to look back, and that’s when seonghwa couldn’t bear to watch any longer. 

seonghwa ran out from his hiding place and pulled you into his arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back and whispering soothing words in your ear. “h-hwa. h-he hates me.” you sobbed, curling your fingers in the fabric of his robes. seonghwa could only hold you tight as you cried into his chest, feeling his heart ache even more. 

you returned to the cottage with seonghwa carrying you in his arms, your heart heavy and face tear-stained. your robes were filthy and torn, but seonghwa didn’t seem to mind as he had lifted you into his arms almost immediately, insisting on carrying you home. you felt tears prick your eyes at the sight of hongjoong, san, jongho, wooyoung, yeosang, and yunho standing nervously at the front of the cottage. 

san practically tripped over his own feet trying to get to you, stroking your hair back softly as his violet eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries. “we were all so worried when we woke and realized you and seonghwa hyung were gone. we thought you two had been taken, or killed, or-” “san, i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for worrying everyone. i seem to always cause trouble whenever i’m with you, and i always feel as if i’m a burden.”

“you could never be a burden to us, darling, we just hate seeing you get hurt.” yeosang strode right up to seonghwa, caramel eyes bright with anger. “you let her be injured? you watched as she got hurt and verbally harassed by hades? what kind of friend are you?” he asked, a harsh laugh escaping his mouth. before seonghwa could respond, san stepped forward, violet eyes bright with warning, gripping the comedy muse’s shoulder tightly. “that’s enough, yeosang.”

yeosang pursed his lips tightly, shook san’s hand off him, and stormed into the cottage. “i-i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve done something-” you shook your head, reaching up and cupping seonghwa’s chin gently so he’d look at you. “none of this is your fault, hwa, and give yeosang time to clear his head, i’m sure he’s just angry because i’m hurt and he needs someone to blame.” “i just hope you two don’t resent me.” you scoffed, shifting so that you were a little more comfortable in seonghwa’s arms. “we will not.” 

seonghwa smiled gently down at you as he carried you into the cottage, and you let yourself fall into a deep sleep, the ache in your heart subsiding, just a bit. 

mingi buried his face into his pillow, soft sobs wracking his body. maddox sat slumped in a chair nearby, his expression grim. “i’m sorry your first love had to end so tragically, kid.” mingi didn’t reply, only cried harder, feeling as if his heart was going to spill out of his chest. 

-end-

a/n: i hope you all enjoyed this! i know this was super lengthy and probably sucked, but there will be a part three! i’m not sure of the title yet, but i already have a few ideas in mind :) anyways i love you all and thank you for always supporting me and my mediocre fics lmao 

tagging: @maatz, @hwacinth-main, @twancingyunhoe​ , @victonite​, @hongism​+anyone else who wants to read this 💛

#mine #fic series

[imaginedcreaderinsert]

Cool girl — Reader x Jason Todd (x Dick Grayson)

ANGST with a hopeful ending.

Summary: You are the cool girl that never gets angry. The cool girl that doesn’t get bothered by the childish behavior, you condone it, as stupid and disgusting as it can get at time. As much as it can bother you, you don’t say nothing. Otherwise you will be too feminine.  The cool girl that is sexy too, but not in a “girlish” kind of way. The kind that will never get angry at dirty jokes because they fight it back, and that won’t mind being stood up because that’s just how things are sometimes when “the one” appears. The laid-back type of girl who will never make a great deal out of it and with whom they’ve probably fucked at least once in their life, labeled it as a casual type of thing, and was never brought up again. Because again, you are very cool about it.

WORD COUNT: 2983

TW: not really. It is not light angst, but it’s not heavy either. Depends on how close you can relate to it. I’m sorry if it sounds too petty at times, but I had to write on it. Oh, and not a TW, but I feel like I always tend to write more on Todd, rather than Dick. Requests are open, in case anyone wants to request anything on him!

At this point it doesn’t even matter how you met, in the midst of your horrible adolescence with a very terrible crush on Jason Todd and a mild one on Dick Grayson; never mind how terrible that made you feel until you manage to push your feelings down. The important thing is that you three are friends and have been so for a very long part of your life: that long that it doesn’t even matter how you feel about them two, because it’s something that’s not possible, it won’t ever be. A scenario you can hypothesize as many times as you want because it’s an impossible one.

           And that bothers you more than you would ever admit. Specially when you are the cool girl.

           You are the cool girl that never gets angry.

           (Not even when Todd appears in sport clothes the first time you are meeting your very important friends at a very fancy restaurant. It’s not like you want to prove anything, but you wanted to make them think like you were fucking him, at least (just so that they wouldn’t pity you every time “they” appeared together). But what pride is there in it, as handsome as Jason can be, when Warren is eating her girlfriends’ ear basically in front of you and Todd is asking for more garlic bread, “please and thank you”. When you both are out for a moment alone, your ex-boyfriend/ex-fuck-buddy/we-never-left-things-clear Warren asks, and you tell him, shyly, that you have been friends for a very long time, perhaps even suggestively – that is before Jason asks where is the guy you spent a week looming and pouting about, carelessly. You both laugh at it, but you are embarrassed. You thought he would try for you, having told him before how you felt about the event. But he didn’t think of it, honestly. Once you separate, you tell him by text, he apologizes, and everything is alright again. But Warren’s grin gets stuck in your face for a week)

           The cool girl that doesn’t get bothered by the childish behavior, you condone it, as stupid and disgusting as it can get at time. As much as it can bother you, you don’t say nothing. Otherwise you will be too feminine.

           (And you don’t want to be too feminine when Dick confides you in sometimes, some nights; when you are maybe too drunk on the carpet of his Blüdhaven safe house and Barbara is out. You sometimes think of kissing him, being that casual as it has been before, but they are vulnerable, and you can’t do that someone so precious, so close. Jason does too sometimes get deep, be it with our without alcohol, sometimes insomnia; and you store those precious moments where they talk and talk, ramble on about, and you listen in silence, sometimes making small sounds to make them know you are listening, they are being heard. Later they hug you, they tell you they wouldn’t be themselves without you in their lives, and you eat it all out, live on it happy like it’s a drug until they casually forget you when the next girl appears in their path, be it Barbara or some random woman at a club, at a bar where “Red Hood” makes occasional appearances. It appeals the ladies, he says; makes it a bit of a rush in the bathroom, and even when you don’t need that information, you laugh and nod, like you know what he’s talking about, even when you don’t and you just drown into more disgusting beer. You don’t get too petty about it, never hold it for too long as grossed as it can leave you sometimes.)

           The cool girl too that is sexy, but not in a “girlish” kind of way. The kind that will never get angry at dirty jokes because they fight it back, and that won’t mind being stood up because that’s just how things are sometimes when “the one” appears. The laid-back type of girl who will never make a great deal out of it and with whom they’ve probably fucked at least once in their life, labeled it as a casual type of thing, and was never brought up again. Because again, you are very cool about it.

           (Dick Grayson murmurs into your lips that you are special, unique, and you drink it all up like it’s poison; glorious poison that will let you numb on the feeling, that makes you feel like the only girl in the world as he takes your virginity at eighteen (he’s twenty-four, gorgeous and does it slowly, with love) after a concert you made him go to after he and Barbara fought. Again. It’s not what he wanted, he says, but it’s just what he needed, he says with a laugh as you lay in your chest: and he looks at you, meaning he never really desired you, not seriously, but he ended up liking it anyway. You kiss him quickly in the lips and then hide in the bathroom for as long as it takes for his breathing to be mechanical, soft, meaning he’s asleep; then you dress yourself up, write a quick note “roommates drama” and leave. You cry all the way back to your flat, and Warren that night takes you in his arms, calms you down as you settle down on the sofa and he wakes up at 3am for a midnight snack. You fall for him just a little bit just as he comforts you in blankets and comfort food and think instead that he might be a good fuck (rather than a good boyfriend, because you feel that’s impossible). As it turns out, he is: but you never once consider him a boyfriend, and you break his heart three months after, when he’s far too in love and you are far too damaged by Dick, who is again “on” with “Babs”.

           …

           You kiss Jason one too many times when he’s finally eighteen and you are twenty-one. It feels a bit dangerous, a bit juvenile even when you are seemingly ending your degree and he’s barely starting uni. It’s stupid at first, and once you really dwell on it, you see how fucked it is that you settled for the second best plate on the house; but he takes you good, he takes you well and the affair goes on for at least a year, on and off. You both never make a big deal out of it even when you whisper casually in his lips “I love you” and says it back. You don’t mean it seriously, and if you do, he thinks it’s in a friendship manner kind of way. He slaps your butt in public with Dick and Tim when you casually hang out and drags you out of the cinema twice to fuck you in the female bathroom stalls, but again, love does not appear once. You throw back and forth dirty jokes, innuendos, that makes even Tim blush, as young as he is (barely seventeen) – Dick is never uncomfortable, and why would he, being in such a happy and now stable relationship as he is? But he frowns once or twice, just “uncomfortable”. It makes you happy and you suck Jason off that night in his motorbike, on an alley, seeing as he offered to take you home that night. You think you might really be it, a couple, until just some weeks later you are casually hanging out in his safe house and he enters it in a rush, grabbing a girl by her waist and already half-naked. It’s not brought up again, and you feel like he knows you felt something at some point, but it’s never commented. Again, you were nothing, right?)

           You are precisely the cool girl that never gets too hysterical, the one that is fun to be around. When things get too messy with “the one”, you are always there for a lazy and meaningless night of joking and pizza. Maybe beer. You hate beer but let them have as many as they want.

           (Dick is this time fuming, as he devours his second family pizza, to your surprise. Thank God he’s so fit and he has such a quick digestive system; otherwise, you would fear for your very own floor and the rage of your other roommate, who is out of town for the weekend. You were actually supposed to spend Saturday day together, but he had to stay for Babs, couldn’t leave it alone. Messaging you would be too much, you think pettily bored in your living room: it’s been four hours and he has clearly forgotten your traditional black and white marathon of December. You cry, but not because you love him, but because you actually wait and trust him to not stand you up… Again. It’s been some years and you finally learn to not blame yourself for these things, but it’s difficult not to when he’s so compromised with his “one and only” and not you. What have you done wrong? How can he not respect you like that, treat you just like the others? He’s kissed you a couple more of times when Jason was out of the picture (he threw a fit when he got to know after questioning you, before taking you in that very sofa you are now trying to control yourself in) or when Warren was nowhere to be seen (yes, you’ve cheated him, so what? Not like he hasn’t done it either). Yes, he hasn’t -he hasn’t ever properly taken you out on a date, or asked you out like them, but they were flings and you are special. He told you when he first kissed you, and you’ve been friends far too long to be casted aside so carelessly, so-so coldly. You are here because you are staying for the long run. Not like them. You are not like them.

           So instead, you are spending the Sunday evening together (and just the evening, as he slept in, again, without giving you warning and worrying you, thinking something might have happened), eating pizza and watching some boring thrillers. It’s not amazing, but you make do.

           …

           It is actually Jason the one that likes beer. He drink it like it’s water, and since he didn’t brough any vodka with him, you stuck with water and some soft drinks, like Pepsi and something orangey that he brough. It’s nice. It’s not perfect, but you play board games until he’s bored of losing. Something’s bothering him, and he eventually opens up: the girl she’s been messing with now wants to take things seriously, but he doesn’t feel prepared. You tell him that you see him happy, and that there’s no reason to be scared. If he feels like she is it, then she must be it. He thanks and hugs you, warm smile always present and sweet. “Just for you”, he says leaving a kiss on your cheek. And you wished it didn’t feel so hot as he left your cheek and-)

           “No”. You say, actually surprising yourself. He was about to lay down carelessly again in your sofa, feet up near to your face, bothering you. But that’s not the worst. “No, stop. You can’t say that and-and-“.

           You shouldn’t bring it up, because it is officially the unnamed, but it doesn’t matter. Not when his shirt is casually going up, showing off his very toned stomach, in that very attractive sweatpants and his hand casually lying in your thigh, leaving your skin hot and bothered. No, you can’t continue like that.

           “You can’t tell me about your girls and then just casually kiss me and tell me “I’m special”. I am not, Todd!”. You get up. You can’t actually stand to watch him being on the same level, you have to impose yourself over him. “You forget about my existence every time you get some free pussy and boy, I do not fault them because you are gorgeous and they are probably possessive, given the furious marks on your back but-God, Jason! You leave me every time hanging. It’s like you don’t even stop to think how it might affect me having left-having left things hanging like we did last time! Like you don’t think at all how it makes me feel to be left in a fucking second by some other person!”.

           He is caught off-guard and you concede it. Mainly, because you are sure he didn’t expect it that night, you’ve never showed any signs – you have tried to be a good friend, the casual and cool girl, but it’s just too hard.

           “It’s like I’m your stress reliever, your little play thing to squish whenever you want a quick and easy fuck-and-and-“. You notice tears blinding you, your throat tightening up. “IT IS... EXHAUSTING!”. Clear shouts, tears running through your skin. You can’t properly breathe, and he sees that. He gets up as well but you move around the room, like knowing you’ll fail if he comes too close, hugs you too hard. You are at that point where a warm and deep hug would cause a breakdown. “I’ve loved you both my entire life and you are always taking me for granted! I’m not even a second plate at this point, I’m just the casual side dish you only take when you haven’t been satisfied, when you haven’t had enough of the first two and before the great dessert!

           >> “You kissed me like you loved me, you whispered it back like it meant something, and then you turned your back on me! The moment a woman shakes her ass in front of your face I’m put on the bench, just like a fucking wait list and I’m tired of-of never being it! The ONE!”. It hurts. Knowing that you are breaking every safe bond, every little piece of the carefully constructed friendship and mask. “The one who can make you feel at ease when you wake up in cold sweat. The one that can kiss you better when you feel like you are far too damaged, beyond repair, even when you are perfect being as you are trying your best to be a better person. Do you know how many people can proudly say that? Because let me tell you, it’s a handful, and you are-you are gorgeous. I’m the one who has seen you vomiting your ass off in a toilet, the one that has seen you crying, having a nervous breakdown, an identity crisis and fuming over Wayne and-and I still very much like you. You have eyes that I could swim in, days to no end – and you have a beautiful soul that has been nurtured since very early on, on literature, manifestos, ideals – you are an ass, and can be quite hurtful, but you know when you are wrong… Except when it comes to me, I guess.”

           You sit in the couch, almost breathless, like the realization is finally coming down on you.

           “And that’s okay, I guess. You not loving me back, of course, I mean-you could never see me like that, and it’s on me for never acting on it. But still, when you treated me like something more, when you kissed me back and shared those intimate and vulnerable moments on the library I-I thought something else. And maybe it was naïve because I never did the casual thing before we started, but-but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep on not being treated like I want to be treated. I want to be loved, Jason. I want to be so loved I never remember what is waking up alone like; like what you did when you left early in the morning so that things would never be awkward. So that I couldn’t make you pancakes and kiss you between bites like I did just one fucking time. I’m-I’m sorry, I truly am for confusing things and maybe even making you uncomfortable, but I’m not going to apologize for feeling. I deserve to be loved, I must be loved with the same unconditional love I’ve been nurturing you both. And until I am, I don’t think I should continue seeing you, because you drain me. You both, Dick and you, have always been and I can’t control myself when it comes to you. And I’m sorry it gets so messy, that I can’t handle it better, but I can’t have anything else. I won’t. So I think you should leave.”

           Jason can’t fight back, and as if ordered by a superior entity, he gets his coat and leaves. There are empty cans of beer around the floor, and once you hear the elevator opening, you turn off the light of the room, hoping the moon will comfort you if you let it enter through your window.

           It’s a lonely feeling you hope you leave behind as you hear the motor of his bike turning, because it really hurts. Maybe in another time, younger, more naïve and stupid you would have hoped for him to beg and stay, but he’s never been the type – in your fantasies he kisses you stupid until you can’t cry anymore and assures you that there has never been another. That you are it, that it all has been a stupid game, but truly, at this point, you know better than to wrap yourself up in fairy tales. And you are fine with that. It may not feel like so, but it will get better – and eventually, you will be loved like you want, like you deserve. It may not last for long, or you might get to even lost count of it, but it will make you forget your previous pain. You just have to wait.

#jason todd #dcu #dcu fanfic #jason todd insert #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader insert #reader insert #jason todd angst #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson dcu #jason todd dcu #dick grayson x reader insert #angst #light angst #hopeful ending #happy ending #?

[kayliemusing]

37

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself? - I think a few hours ago lol

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? - how does it everything work out in the end

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? - i don't really have one yet

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise? - When I was 8, my family and I were driving home from the christmas eve service. It was snowing big fluffy snowflakes and i was in a sparkly dress in the backseat. rascal flatts was playing 'god bless the broken road' on the radio and we were all sitting in this really nice content silence.

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? - I think I'd try to do more, go out more, experience more, write more.

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things? - Write a novel(s) / write successful novels - Fall in love - finally go to a taylor swift concert lol

pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail. - My mom is someone I super close to. She has these vibrant blue eyes that literally carry an ocean of good things. She has a warm soul and she always uses her energy to lift other people up or just to hold their hand when life is rocky.

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood? - Yes

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person? - I don't remember. A while ago I think. Maybe like last september-ish and I only remember that because my job did a really not cool thing to me and I cried when I told my mom and then cried when I told my best friend lol

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them. - My mom because we could talk about life while stargazing.

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them? - maybe. if i felt super comfortable with them and it was the right time for it, then probably.

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you? - I don't know, actually. Probably not since high school or roughly around then bc i'm always asleep by 10 pm lol. it was probably with one of my friends.

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom? - I'd probably tell my mom thank you for everything she's done and had to sacrifice for me/our family, and i'd tell her i loved her.

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes? - Beautiful! Bright! Lovely! God tier! Wow!

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally. - "I couldn't get the boy to kill me but I wore his jacket for the longest time" by Richard Siken. First of all, this quote makes me like !!!!! just exclamation marks!!!! I think I just love the poetry and the subtext in this quote, because it's kind of like being haunted by this boy was in itself its own kind of death. So like yeah you didn't kill me, but you haunt me instead.

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far? - What The Hell Is This: a memoir by me

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars? - Buy a house and move to a different city, invest a lot of it, buy a car, buy another cat, send money to charity, quit my job.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way? - I'm a forgiving person when I feel like someone is worth forgiving, which I kind of don't like about myself because I don't know if that's necessarily the right thing. I don't like that I feel like people have to earn forgiveness, but if I'm hurt by someone or someone has hurt someone I love, I tend to hold grudges and I will especially hold grudges if the hurt or offense is never addressed. But if someone were to apologize and I felt like they were sincere and they gave me a good explanation for the actions, I'm definitely forgiving then.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self. - n/a

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel? - pastel

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain. - I don't mind some tattoos and piercings, but I don't like tons of piercings and I definitely don't like tattoo sleeves or anything like that lol. You do you, but I could never lol.

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not? - Generally, yeah. It depends on my mood that day. Sometimes I'll wear a full face, other times I'll do bare minimum or nothing at all. Makeup makes me feel nice and it can really make your features pop.

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. - Taylor Swift baby. Taylor has been such an inspiration to me as a writer and a human being. I think she sees the world very vividly and very romantically, and I love that about her. I love that she's kind-natured, even when the world tries to put a masochistic spin on her, she's simply just good. I love her honestly and vulnerability in her story-telling, and I love the work-ethic and careful creativity that's in her work. On a more personal note, her music feels like contentment and joy, and sometimes nostalgia. I started listening to her music in the fifth/sixth grade but I remember when Speak Now came out and at that time I was starting to get into writing and I could really see that she was a writer too so I clung to her, and then Red was released while my dad was fighting cancer and that album was just something I really pressed into as a means of comfort and escape and I'm so glad that I had her music lean on.

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them. - *mind goes blank*

cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel. - I haven't actually been to a concert that's really impacted me meaningfully because I've never gone to anyone I legitimately wanted to see lol. When I was 10, I went to a Jonas Brothers concert with my sister who was a bigger fan of them than I was and I do remember it being a good time. Then when I was 15, my best friend took me to marianas trench because our other friend baled so she had a spare ticket. It was a really good show and it actually made me get into their music more than I had been before which was awesome.

grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say? - I would love it if taylor swift wrote me a letter and I honestly wouldn't care what she wrote in it as long as it was something nice lol

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised? - I used to have a work space in my room but I moved the desk upstairs to our office. Now I just write in my room and that for me looks like a made up bed, a nightstand with a candle, and a vanilla-scented lamp to create a warm cozy atmosphere.

white bed sheets: what is your night time routine? - I usually write in the evening and then maybe I'll watch youtube or I'll listen to music or scroll through tiktok lol. Then I put on my pj's, skincare routine, brush teeth, and I go to bed (where I end up reading for half the night but whatevs)

old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? - I'm pretty open with my mom so I don't think there's anything she doesn't know about me lol.

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? - I wouldn't mind dying my tips pink or blue just because I think that's a universally cute look. As for styling it, probably what I do now, maybe curl it a little more.

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do? - I don't think I even know five people (that i'm close to) yikes

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them. - I wish for success, because I always feel like a failure or inadequate in someway - I wish to fall in love, because I'd like to know it at least once - I wish to be able to write again in a way that makes me happy, because I feel like I keep disappointing myself and I just want that creative freedom again

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up. - I've never done anything super creative lol but one year I dressed like a bumble bee and I loved that costume because it was a little frilly dress with wings.

lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? - fun fact I've never been drunk or high

thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? - Anything that involves killing or spiders

storms: you can only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why? - All too well by taylor swift baby

love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love. - I have not fallen in love before but I imagine it feels like contentment and coming home.

clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair? - I wouldn't do really short hair, but my favourite hair cuts on me was a short bob.

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone? - Just your standard white hot chocolate, and i'd trust anyone to order it for me bc it's not that difficult lol

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now? - My writing / my career I think

#survey

[livayl]

A sneezy OC introduction

Until now I somehow forgot about this- but I thought it would be nice to write a bit about each of my OC´s sneeze related things. I´ll start with my oldest ones and end with the newest. :3

This is going to be long af for being pure self-indulgence but you can always scroll down to the character you like the most. xD In case you want to know more or look at their art/read some stories: If the tags work right all should be found by searching my blog for the OCs name. :)

Lillandlian: 

He has a distinctive photic sneeze reflex due to his unique, pallid complexion and the fact that he has lived in a deeply shaded forest. If not in complete shadows he´ll sneeze right after waking up, when passing through rays of bright sunshine or from looking directly into any radiant source of light. Quick changes in light-and shadow ratio can trigger a sudden release as well.

Those forced photic reactions tend to be quicker and less drawn out than his regular sneezes. For example a sudden yet forceful: “heh-PTSCHieh!”   Due to his unique link with nature the druid is also oversensitive to any kind of air pollution (smoke, ashes,...). This can cause prolonged fits and even breathing troubles. Lillandlian is also prone to catch colds and vulnerable to cool weather and chills. His cold sneezes tend to be more drawn out, come in multiples and rise from deep out of his fused lungs. His regular sneezes are very wet and spraying already and things can get very messy when he´s sick. Generally he does his best to keep them as quiet and polite as possible- giving them a softly spraying, yet forceful kind of tone. This won´t work when his nose is affected very badly- they´ll burst out unrestrained, loud and thus embarrass him even more than his regular ones.  The sounds are all wet, spraying with a lot of force behind and often ending with a higher pitch. Mostly expressed in one or two syllables but rarely in three. ”hhh-TDZSSSSCHiieh!”,  “ hah-IDZSCHHIIIEW!” Stifling them always hurts and needs lots of effort but he will do so to be unobtrusive and considerate despite his discomfort. Telling him to stop will secretly relieve him a lot.  The centaur always tries to shield or angle them away from people and prefers to safely release sneezes into a handkerchief. If nothing else is available he´ll sneeze against his bare forearm, wrist or into his hands. Feeling or seeing his own spray makes him cringe and shutter though.  He will bless other people with: “May Acacia bless you!/Acacias blessings be with you!” or simple “Blessings to you!/Bless you!” -referring to the goddess of nature and creation and wishing the other health in that way. Lillandlian will be very flustered after sneezing himself and apologize. 

Shokhrakka: 

Is sensitive to certain flowers and healing herbs. They will make his nose itch and tingle for a while before the teasing grows into a more pressing need. At that point his nose will be utterly swollen shut and they´ll burst out suddenly. With a lot of force behind. 

There´s not too much actual voice in them but a snarling, deeply growling quality mixed with the distinct sound of air rushing by mighty tusks. The kind of release that vibrates through ones chest and scrapes the throat a bit. Also they´re really loud and tend to startle others. They mostly happen in singles but a very persistent tickle can cause a double with a stray third trailing behind. They mostly sound like: “Huhhr-ERZSSCH-UE!”, “HEH-HURRZSCHH-ah!” Changing or cleaning his several nose piercings can cause a sudden and powerful reaction too. The big Orc is rarely sick and generally not prone to any kind of infection. Shokhrakka is not considered to be a sneezy person and has no other sensitivities.  He´s simply angling his head to an unoccupied side or will sneeze down towards the floor- not being rude on purpose but simply not thinking further about the matter. Surprisingly he always carries a handkerchief with him in case he needs to blow his nose.  If another person sneezes he´ll mostly ignore it but is more attentive to people who are close to him. Then he´ll make sure that the sneeze is not caused by any kind of discomfort. And in case it was: Find a way to ease it.

Marya: 

The Alchemist is allergic to a flower that´s simultaneously an important  medical ingredient called pale nightingale. It´s pollen or crushed petals will cause an instant and strong allergic reaction expressing itself in multiple wet, desperate sneezes. And a clogged or streaming nose as well as badly tearing eyes.  Generally her sneezes are pronounced softly: There´s a wet, mellow sound in them even in the bigger ones and they´re mostly voiced and blended together as one syllable, very rarely two. They come in rapid, spraying multiples that have a distinct “girlish” pitch and ending.  “apTSCHIU! -TSSCHih! -ahTSSCHIEW!” or “ Ah~PTSCHiih!- IZSCH-uh!- TDSCHiuh!”

They´re neither very loud nor very quiet and almost never stifled. She´d only restrain them to avoid sneezing on somebody or infecting another person. Marya tries to cover with a handkerchief or something else available. She is thoughtful about germs and careful not to cause others harm. Yet sneezing is a completely natural thing to her and normally no cause of embarrassment or stress. 

She also has the kink and very much enjoys most sneezes of other women. Especially those from her girlfriend Amaziah. In that relationship Marya has fantasies about being sneezed on and inducing the Archmage in various scenarios.With the later both have had a surprising amount of fun and excitement already. Although not a necessity for fun sneezing does play a big role in her sexuality.  Maryas overall constitution is very sturdy and healthy though she´s prone to falling sick when overworking herself over a long period of time. Or after taking care for Amaziah- because despite knowing better she´s adamant in cuddling and keeping comfortingly close to her girlfriend. There any shared intimacy and care is worth a possible contagion in her opinion.  She´ll mostly wish the other “Gesundheit!” after a sneeze but will vary with “Bless you.” or exclusively to Amaziah the elven “Anvael ci na´eve.” from time to time.

Amaziah:

Is a rather sneezy person and hates every bit of it. She´s a highly decorated leader that personally emphasizes a lot on self-control, manners and ever present strength. So when her body is “disfunctioning” like this it makes her feel angry, annoyed and embarrassed in company.   This is why she´ll try to fend off the inevitable multiple releases as best as possible when others are in vicinity. That works only for a while though. If she´s forced to give in she´ll try to stifle them with cruelly pinching her nose. The action is hurtful, full-bodied but mostly silent. Sometimes the restraint fails and is painfully audible: “-kdnxxt-ugh” or like “Hah-kngxt-uh”. Her natural sneezes are clearly vocalized and mostly separated in two or three syllables: The first distinctly stressed, the middle a deep, harsh and throat scraping sound and the third again rising in pitch and vocalization. Also very loud and a bit achy for her chest: “ Hah-ERRSCHH-hue!”, “huh-AERSSCHH-ah!”. Amaziah has severe dust allergies and is suffering from a strained physical constitution that makes her fall sick often and easily. In addition to that she´s mostly unable to get the much needed rest and thus her condition worsens despite healing potions.  She does hate it when others acknowledge this or react to her sneezing which is why most people have given up on it. They get the dreaded and very intimidating “How dare you!” stare if they dare to offer a blessing. This does not include close people or her girlfriend Marya however: While Amaziah had felt embarrassed and shy about the matter of sneezing at the beginning of her relationship she´s now fine with it as long as both are in private. She even enjoys inducing for her but struggles with the concept of actually sneezing freely.  

The Archmage prefers to turn aside and muffle them securely into a silk handkerchief or the crook of her arm.   Normally she does not offer any kind of blessing because she things it would make others as uncomfortable as herself. She may make an exception for Marya though:  “Anvael ci na´eve.” Amaziah is afraid of germs and thus always aiming for good hygiene in both ways. She´s struck with quite some persistent stuck sneezes and false starts from time to time.

Azra: 

Does share some sensitivities regarding certain flowers and healing plants with her half brother. They cause a lingering, buzzing sensation inside her nose that soon spreads to a full faced tickle and discomfort. She´ll try to harshly rub it out of every offended place which will cause her eyes to water even more. She mostly doesn't mind rubbing, grinding or even wiping her nose against her palm or back of the hand. Her nose responds with a lot of visible crinkling and flaring nostrils when teased.  Other than those triggers she also has a slight sensitivity to dust. It doesn't bother her much in small portions but can trigger some impressive sneezes when she´s exposed to bigger amounts over time.  Azra is not sick too often but when it hits her it´s usually doing so in a hard, unforgiving fashion. She´s not too good with taking care of herself and tries to hide any discomfort since being sick is could be equalized to a weakness she can´t really afford.  Generally her casual sneezes tend to come in doubles with the occasional triple. Her pre-sneeze face and build up are rather expressive and involve a lot of snarling, fang baring and possibly a few irritated hitches that grow in strength and audible depth before reaching their climax.  The final releases are very harsh and resound in her chest with a latent growling intensity. They´re sound could be described as “masculine”, fairly vocal, loud and she mostly sneezes off to her free side: “HuhhrERSSCHH-UH!  HAH-ERSSSCHH-ue!- HURH-EIZSSCHhah!” She does make an effort to cover or shield them when she´s sick. Will even try to stifle when in close quarters despite the fact that this is not fully possible due to her protruding, very big tusks. It´s a good way to tell that she´s unwell though. As are the longer fits that can hit her when she´s suffering from a bad headcold. Azra sometimes uses her plenty nose piercings to coax out some stubborn stuck sneezes rather violently. The feeling of having to sneeze and not being able to is a lot more annoying to her than the actual release.  Generally she doesn´t feel bad about sneezing if it´s not happening in an inconvenient situation or displaying too much vulnerability.  She´s not very used to any kind of blessings or reactions related to sneezing. 

Zephyr: 

Has the kink. And enjoys his own sneezes more than those of another person. He loves the feeling of it, the start of a light teasing tickle that rapidly grows into a more demanding itch. The first subtle and than more visible changes it causes to his body posture, breathing and face. The building pressure in his lungs right before the exquisite release hits him. 

The Satyr goes even so far as to watch his reflection while the sneeze builds- his eyes try to stay open and admiring as long as possible but will eventually be forced shut.  If he would live in a modern day setting instead of the present high fantasy one Zephyr would record his sneezes to watch and listen to them later. Revel in the moment and feeling. And probably have pleasure with it all over again. He can be rather embarrassed to sneeze in front of another person though.  Both things can lead to activating his curse: He´s prone to evoke gusts of wind and even storms with any kind of deeper routed feelings. So semi destructive blasts of wind that trail after some sneezes are an often occurring possibility. 

To Zephyrs own dismay he does not have many allergies. Luckily for him his nose is very sensitive to touch and inducing- a condition he uses very often. With feathers, sensual massages or by teasingly plucking the chain that´s attached to his nose piercing.  Zephyrs sneezes mostly build teasingly slow and are almost always precluded by a series of hitching breaths. Sometimes slightly moaned in desperation. They´re harsh and full-bodied commitments that tend to rattle him more than a bit. Although he does try to give them a (to him) pleasant sound: Always aiming for all three syllables, audibly parted and still musically melting into each other. With that slightly over dramatic rise in pitch and voice towards the end to conceal the harsher middle part: 

“hah-heh- HAH-ERRSCH-iiuuh!- HAH-IZSSCHH-iuh!- hheh- ah- Hadt-EISSCHIOO!” He´s not the type to stifle because... Why miss out on something great? Zephyr will sneeze freely and uncovered when alone but will turn aside to sneeze against his forearm or wrist when around people. 

Evan: 

This man has an immune system so strong it´s an almost indomitable fortress. Which is good since his husbands health is the exact opposite. Normally he does not sneeze much at all but has developed a nasty and itchy allergy to birch tress and hazel bushes. When exposed his eyes and nose are opening the flood gates simultaneously while both turning visibly red and irritated. His nose starts to tingle and buzz with sneezy desperation right after and it doesn't take long to be fully overcome.  Despite him being very tall and muscular his sneezes are restrained and squelched into almost silent submission. And directly followed by an achy groan or shaky exhale. Desperate and painful sounding stifles that can arrive in singles or a whole big party when allergies hit him.  Initiated by a big breath and trembling grimace as his hand flies up to press against his shaking septum in a futile attempt to avoid the following: “HAH-nxdt!-uhh” or “HEH-kxndt-ah!” and very rarely he looses the battle for control after a longer fit- ending it with a harsh: “AERRRSCHooh!” or a similar sounding, very relieving sneeze. All variations are followed by some sniffs and a husky “xcuse me...”. His Love does chide him for stifling and keeps reciting the risks and possible harms of this kind of action. Although this does not stop Evan from doing it again.  Most of his stifles are dry since he effectively blocks every other option. A full release or a bad allergy day can still turn out messy from time to time. 

Evan always sneezes against his shoulder, into the crook of one arm or into his shirt that will be hastily pulled up over mouth and nose. He is especially careful with keeping all kinds of germs away from his husband Alexej. He´s not scared of catching things himself though.  He does thank people for blessing him and also very friendly blesses others who are in close vicinity to him. No matter if they´re friends or complete strangers. Has kind of a funny habit with calling “bless you!” through the whole flat upon hearing his husband sneeze in a far away corner of their shared place.  Which leaves Alexej blushing a bit, silently thinking: “Was it.... that loud?” before calling back a flustered “Thank you!”.

Alexej:

His health is very frail with his immune-system  actually compromised due to several chronic issues. He´s almost all the time at least achy and sniffly with the tendency to get worse very fast and really seriously.  In addition to catching colds and being sick way to often Alexej is also suffering from severe dust and perfume allergies.  Both he and his husband Evan do avoid any kind of scented products and keep their shared flat meticulously clean.  Despite the constant struggles his nose did not seem to have hardened against outside teasing since it can be vexed and irritated pretty easily.  All these ailments make him a very sneezy person and when doing so it´s almost always happening three times in a row. Although an allergy attack can easily cause a prolonged fit.  Especially his cold sneezes build awfully slow- teasing him with lots of gasped out hitching and a couple of false starts here and there. A struggle so clearly visible in his desperate facial expressions.  When they finally come they do so forcefully and accompanied by a lot of mess while shaking his lithe body and leaving him dizzy.  Despite their force and volume the sound is desperate yet underlined with a rather soft, spraying base that´s ending in a higher pitch. “hhh-heh-hhiih-PTZSSCH-hieh!”, “-IZZSSSCH-iieew!” He manages to keep his regular “just an itchy nose” kind of sneezes a bit lower in volume and force. They´ll built and come more sudden and he´ll hold them back to a more suppressed but still spraying “TZSCHieh!”.  If possible Alexej will always try and muffle his sneezes into a tissue, his sleeve or crook of an arm- resulting in big, very visible wet spots and a lot of blushing.

He used to apologize a lot after sneezing but has moderated that habit around Evan a bit due to his husbands constant reassurances and care. Although generally he´s feeling both deeply embarrassed and angry at himself for his often “misbehaving” nose and shattered immune system.  Having to sneeze in public, or worse in front of his audience during a concert, is still a huge horror for him. One that´s recurring from time to time despite his tries to ward it off.  Alexej is often too shy to bless anyone besides his husband Evan. He dislikes it when his husband stifles because he´s worried it will cause harm or hurt him. Alexej himself has had bad experiences with stifling- which is why he avoids doing so. 

Whew that was it for now. Somehow that was great to do but harder to write than an actual fic. Hope you liked reading it though! :)

#my oc #my fic #Lillandlian #Shokhrakka #Marya #Amaziah #Azra #Zephyr #Evan #Alexej #oc sneeze #sneezes

[jess-the-vampire]

1. I know we're already beating a dead horse with this, but I call bull-crap on the justification of spending unnecessary time on the love polygon between Star, Marco, and literally every character that has the misfortune of dating them. No teenager would do the mess that Star and Marco made (at least, not to that degree). The writers just assumed that's how teenagers behave which is asinine.

2. They're not the smartest and most stable group to do so, but most teenagers do have some morality and common sense in that field. Instead of wasting our time writing about how you think teenagers would act in a relationship, how about you write how they should. That way, kids would at least know that a healthy teenage relationship is possible without the cheating, the drama, and the act of selfishly hurting others to get what you want. My goodness, these writers don't know what they're doing.

that is something to think about.

Because the reason they give is “Oh, we want teens and messy teen relationships to be represented truthfully”, but there comes to be problems with doing something like that.

for one, teen drama is rarely written well, mostly because media teens to portray teens all as whiny selfish jerks and that all teen romances are complicated messes. And in return, most people teen to see all teen drama shows to be overall the same and overall....don’t take it seriously.

Which doesn’t work in a show, where they clearly want you to care about this stuff and take it seriously.

teen relationships aren’t always like this, it’s more that drama makes for more interesting and easy stories to write for and teens and kids are well....it’s easier to excuse them for being this way because that’s the media’s typical way of portraying teens.

daron sorta seems to think what she was trying to do was a new thing, but it’s...really not, most teen media tends to do the “Messy relationships” thing, sometimes less messy and sometimes WAY worse. She explains even that people don’t usually fall for the first person they meet and stay together forever.

Which is true, but i personally never felt that was a big problem....in media.

maybe this is different for some people but i’m used to seeing shows where characters date other characters before having an endgame with another character.

Even Kim Possible, which people keep comparing this show to, the main characters were in other relationships before they got together, so i don’t really think the whole “First person you met is your true love” is an established problem outside of....classic disney films?

i dunno, unless they fully establish their endgame love interest as their first and only relationship, i never got the vibes she meant personally from shows.

I think the “Main female and main male always have to get together” is a more problematic thing she could’ve dealt with, that being best friends with someone is normal and it doesn’t mean romantic interest or you always have feelings for every opposite sex member you meet. But she instead leaning full force into that stereotype then anything.

Like, I've seen exs before in shows, i rarely see shows where boys and girls who are friends....remain friends. Not to say they aren’t out there, because there are examples, but people are very used to the concept of a F/M relationship serving for a future romantic plot whether in movies or shows these days.

but being back on track to your main point, the show seems to treat teens like they’re dumb it’s normal for them to do dumb and selfish things, and while anyone at any age can do dumb and selfish things.....this is still a show meant to entertain us, it’s still meant for kids.

so i don’t know why they don’t allow star or marco to become better for their mistakes as teens, when they do bad things for the romance drama, neither really learns squat for it, they just do a bunch of kinda awful things and apparently daron’s reason is....”Teens do this?”.

I don’t care if teens do this or not, doesn’t mean it makes star and marco likable characters, heck, tom is a great example of a character in this show. He starts off having issues but he changes and gets better and actually serves to be a good example for teens.

why can’t we make star and marco be better examples for teens like he is? Learning what’s not ok to do in relationships instead of ignoring them to be “Realistic”? 

You’re writing a show here, where, intentional or not, your kids are supposed to be taking away some kinda of moral from what they’re seeing. This show clearly set out to have important messages in it about racism, and what’s fair, and what’s right.

But there’s not much of a moral to be said for the love plot other then....”Be honest”? and “Date your best friend”? and “It’s totally ok to be awful to your boyfriend and leave him for his best friend the next day, it’s valid”.

the show leans in star and marco’s favor by the end, but neither have learned anything really, they were never given time to be better partners and learn before the show kinda shoved them together. There’s no lesson here that’s strengthened by them getting together.

“They’re finally being honest about their feelings!”.

They’ve been honest several times already, and none of that diminishes either getting away with how they treated their partners.

They establish star is a bad partner to tom, but they never have her apologize for any of her actions, and then say it’s perfectly ok because it’s apparently not her fault at all that she treated tom like a third wheel and gave him serious anxiety issues.....that’s all completely valid and tom doesn’t deserve an apology at all.

Nor does he deserve an happy end with someone when the show closess, because clearly, star and marco....who have barely improved at all in relationships and have made very little effort to be good or caring partners....are the ones who deserve it.

And what’s the excuse?

“Teens are messy”, so that means star and marco can get away with anything because it’s “Accurate”.

Stop writing teen relationships in these messy ways that make characters look bad for the sake of being “relatable”, focus more on writing a good show with good characters who be better and be good examples for kids.

Less “Star and Marco’s” in media who are allowed happy romantic ends because they’re the main characters and nothing else about how they handle relationships or even if they’re willing to do better.

And more “Tom’s” who have gone through pain but have earned their way to being a successful role model that kids should take away from because they’re improving and wanting to better themselves for them and the people they love.

Stop treating teens like idiots in cartoons and excusing their actions “Because they’re teens”, and start treating them more like actual characters who evolve and earn the end for their characters.

This show tried to be a “Coming of age” story for star after all, and yet, somehow...in some way...they managed to both make her grow....and not make her grow...at the same time.

[revengeworld]

Journey

Artist! Kylo x Reader Modern AU

Words: +3.900

Warnings: a bit of Angst and a bit of fluff, who can say no to that

AN: Slowly getting back into writing again! :)

MY MASTERLIST - Can be found in my Bio if you´re interested in more of my work!

Since month Kylo was succumbing to this madness that was suddenly torturing his mind. Letting his brush run over the big canvas in front of him, before he threw both of it down onto the ground.

He was supposed to show is new works in a museum in just a few weeks but the only thing he could draw was one thing.

The young woman that was haunting his dreams and clutching at his creativity. Kylo had never seen her in his life and at first he had thought that it was just a small imagination until he couldn't stop drawing her. Every little detail he could see in his dreams, her shimmering eyes, how the light fell on her shining her, how her smile always made his heart flutter. At first, it was small appearances in his dreams but now, even awake, he couldn't stop thinking about her, when he closed his eyes he could see her so clearly before him but as soon as opened them again she vanished and it was driving him crazy.

He just knew she belonged to him, but how would he ever be able to find her, if she really existed.

Picking up the canvas he had thrown through the room, he looked at this gorgeous face that was haunting him. He placed it back into its easel before pushing his hand into red paint, slapping his hand on the ride side of the canvas with a swift motion he dragged his fingers over her eyes.

Hearing the door open behind him, he immediately glared at the person that intruded. It was his manager Phasma, who looked shocked around at all the paintings of the same face.

“I´ve been trying to reach you for days and this is what you have been up to?” she started to scold him when the tall woman came out of her surprised state, while the Artist in front of her only scoffed.

Phasma knew he could be a bit obsessive with a motive from time to time, but she never had seen him obsess over a model so much, especially since he was sending every model she had send him away in the last few weeks until she recognized this innocent face.

“You have met Y/N?” looking over to Kylo who leaned over a table in exhaustion, the blond woman was confused about how they would even know each other.

“Y/N?” he asked, his ears perking up.

“You know her?!” in an instant he was standing in front of his manager, eager to know more about this Y/N.

Confused her brows knitted, how could he draw her so much and not even know her name?

“She has taken over her Grandfather's little Art Supply Shop in the old Part of town. How can you not know, if you ...”

“I only saw her once on the street.” he lied quickly and the blond woman suddenly smiled.

“That means you finally got your muse back! These are good news!” while she was excited about this new development, Kylo seemed completely on edge.

“I can introduce you to her, I get most of your art supplies there anyway. We can go later on if you want.” she of course noticed the intrigument in his eyes when she mentioned it and not a half hour later they were sitting in the car.

As soon as he got out of the car, he could already see the woman called Y/N who was tending to some customers.

Finally being able to see her up close and personal, made his heart flutter immediately that it almost pained him.

Turning away from the shop he leaned against the car and brushed his hair back.

“I can't … not like this...” he mumbled to himself and his Manager looked confused at him.

“Then how do you expect on meeting her?” she asked frustrated.

Grabbing his sketchbook, he ripped out a piece of paper and wrote something down on it.

“Tell her to come here by Friday. I need her to model for me!”

Phasma only shook her head at his request.

“You are unbelievable. How am I supposed to tell this sweet girl that a man she never has seen before wants her to come to his villa in the snowy mountains where she will be alone with him!” stomping with her foot Kylo only shrugged his shoulders.

“I pay her of course.” not understanding the Problem, Phasma buried her face in her hands.

“I can't with you … fine. But don't actually think she would show up with this suspicious request.” while Kylo sat back in the car, his hand clutched in his shirt while his beating heart wouldn't calm down, Phasma made her way into the shop.

Looking down on the piece of paper, Y/N wasn't sure if the Taxi Driver really dropped her off in the right spot. She was in front of a large stone fence with a wide metal door.

For a moment, she tried to find some sort of bell or an intercom, but nothing like this was around besides a metal plate with the name Ren on it.

So at least she was in the right spot.

Feeling her heart flutter at that name, she took a deep breath. When Phasma had stated the request from her boss, she was first reluctant to go until she had gotten a small glance of the man that was waiting in the car. Suddenly it felt like the right thing to do.

And now here she was, stomping along a beautiful, snowy path until she could see a warm light coming from the big house between some trees, a frozen river right beside it.

While she waddled through the last few meters of snow, she needed to admit that this place was extremely beautiful and calming, hopefully she was able to explore it a bit in the week she was supposed to stay here.

Holding onto the strap from her bag, Y/N had finally made it to the front door. When she reached up with a shivering hand, the door was suddenly ripped open, a tall man standing right in front of her as if he had forgotten something and was now trying to rush somewhere.

“Mister Ren?” she stuttered a bit too excited by the sight that was been giving her.

The painter was a bit out of breath, only clothed in a tank top and a sweatpants, his hands stained with charcoal. One wide black streak was going right over his forehead, probably from brushing the hair that had fallen out from his ponytail, out his face.

Not even answering her question, the tall man suddenly cupped her face and inspected it closely while leaving black hand marks on her skin.

Her sweet and gorgeous face was flushed from the cold weather and for a moment Kylo regretted that he had forgotten to pick her up at the gate.

But now she was really here, right in front of him as beautiful as he had seen her in his dreams and his heart was beating faster.

“Come with me!” grabbing the bag she was holding in her hand, Kylo grabbed her wrist and pulled her along to the second floor into his atelier.

Like Phasma had already warned her, Kylo Ren the most admired artist at the moment was quite the eccentric man.

“Sit here...” pulling a chair right in front of his easel, he gently pressed her down into it.

“I… I'm not … I couldn't even make myself ready...” she mumbled, nervous that he wanted to sketch her right here and now, with her hair messy from the wind and bare faced.

“No need, you're perfect just like that ...” he whispered concentrated.

“But if it makes you more comfortable you can take of your coat.” putting the bag that he had taken from her on a table, she took the time to take off her coat and brush through her hair with her fingers, before she sat back down, letting him adjust her posture how he wanted her to sit.

“If you need anything just tell me, but for now just stay like you are...”

Since her face was facing slightly away from him, Y/N was only able to look outside the big window next to her instead of watching Kylo draw which she had been more anticipating, but for now, she sat as still as she could and waited instead.

The sun was already setting when she heard a relieved sighed from Kylo and the last bit of charcoal fall onto the floor.

Daring to take a look, she saw the young man smiling at the canvas so proud and satisfied that her lips curled up as well.

“Come here… ” stretching his hand out to her, she quickly left her place and took his hand.

With a gentle pull from him, she was standing in front of him and he rested his hands on her hips while she was too astounded to say a word.

“What do you think?” his breath was hitting her neck, while he whispered those words into her ear which made her shiver.

“It's so lively even though it is just black and white. I … I can't believe that's me … It's astonishing.”

He had even included his black handprint on her neck and it just gave the drawing it's final touch.

“No, it's perfect.” he chuckled lightly before leaning his head gently against her shoulder.

Finally, it felt like forever ago when he was satisfied with the work he had put out. She was the one who would bring him out of this creative hole he had fallen in.

Feeling her carefully lean against his chest, his arms automatically wrapped closer around her waist. Both of them felt so comfortable and safe in the other's presence that the worries Y/N had beforehand seemed so ridiculous now.

If she could help him create such wonderful things by just posing for him, she would gladly do so.

“You are probably pretty exhausted from the drive … oh for christs sake! I'm so sorry I completely stained your shirt.” he apologized when his eyes had sawn what his hands had done.

“Oh please don't worry about it. One wash and it's fine again, when i fill up the pastels at the shop it happens often enough, but maybe i should help you clean up.” she chuckled softly at all the streaks on his face.

With a smile he pulled her towards the big sink in this room, where a lot of used art brushes and glasses were standing.

When she had dampened a clean wet cloth and foamed it with a bit of soap, Y/N gently took one of his hands before she started to clean them.

While she was occupied with that, Kylo couldn't stop staring at her beauty. Every little thing on her seemed perfect to him and if he could he would draw her day and night and with a bit of luck Y/N would even consider it.

Gently laying one of her hands against the side of his face, she tried to brush carefully away the black streaks on his forehead.

Closing his eyes, he just enjoyed her soft touch for now. After cleaning the last bit of charcoal off of him, Y/N smiled satisfied before washing the now dirty cloth.

“Here, let me...” laying his hand gently onto hers, Kylo took the cloth from her, to clean his handprints of her neck and jaw.

“God, you are so beautiful...” he suddenly whispered and Y/N immediately started to blush and averted her eyes shyly.

Without noticing the two had hooked their fingers together and stood so close that she could feel his breath fan against her face, while he leaned his forehead gently against hers.

Laying her free hand against his chest, Y/N took all her courage to speak up.

“I had dreams… about you… Even though I had never seen you before … and suddenly I couldn’t forget your face anymore.” she let her fingers wander up his neck before brushing over his cheek.

“I know it sounds ridiculous ...” when her eyes met his brown ones, Y/N quickly looked away.

“No it doesn’t! It was the same for me...Y/N.” Kylo wanted to hold her closer until a ringing interrupted their tender moment.

“Sorry I need to take this. You can feel right at home, pick a room that you like.” laying his hand against her neck for another moment, Kylo soon rushed down to the living room, to answer the call.

Taking an excited shaky breath, she bit her lip for a moment. God, she was so nervous. It felt like her heart was ready to burst out of her chest.

Opening up her bag, she placed the small package with new paint brushes and colours onto the table that Y/N had brought as a present.

Since she could still hear Kylo talk downstairs, she slowly made her way through the upper floor and looked inside the rooms. There were three guestrooms, Kylos seemed to be the big one at the end of the floor. Every room had it´s own bathroom and she couldn’t wait for a nice hot bath this evening.

Taking her time to make herself a bit more presentable, Y/N changed into a new top after brushing her hair. With a quick wash, her dirtied shirt was as good as new and she could let it dry for now.

Quietly making her way down the stairs, Y/N found herself soon in the kitchen, where she took a glass and filled it with tap water.

Her cheeks still felt like they were burning and when she laid her hand against one of them she could feel how hot she was and probably how red her face was.

“Sorry, I needed to answer this call.” he mumbled apologetically while approaching her.

“Please don’t worry about that, Mr. Ren.”

“Oh please, Kylo is enough.” the painter waved dismissively with his hand.

“I thought we might could go out for dinner. You’re probably hungry. If you want we can...” but suddenly he broke off when his eyes fell on the snowstorm that was unfolding outside. Kylo wanted to have a nice evening with her in a fancy restaurant and now his plans were suddenly destroyed by nature.

Hearing her soft and cheerful chuckle, he looked back at Y/N who tried to hide her smile.

“I think together we could cook us something special with the things we have here.” she encouraged him and he looked down at her hand that was gently brushing over his arm.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” without thinking twice, Kylo laid his hand on her lower back.

Phasma seemed to have thought of everything when she prepared his trip. The cabinets were filled with enough food for at least two weeks and it made him wonder why she had sent so much up here.

Taking their time, Kylo and Y/N decided on a simple meal and each took a part in the cooking. While she was standing at the stove, to make the sauce for their cooking spaghetti, Kylo finished the salad. At least he tried.

Even now he couldn’t hold himself back to stare at her from time to time.

While they were eating, their conversation drifted from one topic to another, which even surprised Kylo then he was not someone who was very good at holding conversations up. But with her everything felt so intimate and natural.

Even hours later they were sitting together on the couch with a glass of fine just laughing and talking. Y/N was slightly leaning against him, while Kylo had his arm rested behind her, his hand gently brushing over her shoulder.

When he noticed that Y/Ns head was suddenly leaning against his arm, he smiled gently for a moment.

“Maybe we should go to bed. It was a long day.” he whispered into her ear and she nodded tired.

“Go on, rest. I will clean this up.” watching her slowly wander up the stairs, Kylo spilled the last bit of wine from their glasses into the sink, before placing everything neatly in the dishwasher.

After checking everything a last time, Kylo went back into the Atelier to look at the first real painting he made of her. One that wasn’t influenced by pain and frustration, but rather with excitement, anticipation and devotion.

Turning of the light, he made his way down the hall before he saw a light coming from under the doorway.

With two small knocks he announced his presence and waited until Kylo could hear her soft voice, allowing him to come inside.

“If there is anything you need, you can find me in ...” lifting his gaze, he suddenly forgot the rest of his sentence.

Y/N was sitting on her bed, her hair still a bit wet from the bath she had just taken, clothes in a red silk robe while she was applying a lotion to her skin.

Seeing his dazed look, Y/N could smile again.

“Judging from your look, you really want to sketch me right now… correct?”

“Would that be alright?” he swallowed hard.

“Go on, get your sketchbook.” as soon as she spoke those words he was already sprinting back to his atelier.

Grabbing his sketchbook and a few pencils, Kylo could feel his heartbeat in his chest. He was happy to draw again, something very different from the feelings he had before.

Painting just became a chore at some point, there was no excitement nor satisfaction anymore, but now … Y/N gave him the inspiration that he needed. She was his muse and maybe even more…

Returning to her, Kylo started his rough sketch immediately and after one hour he was already done, to give Y/N her deserved rest and privacy.

“Good Night...” he whispered with a smile since she already was drifting off into a deep slumber.

His eyes wandered to his own bedroom door until he turned to the complete other direction, back into his atelier.

The next morning, Y/N awoke to the snowflakes faintly falling down the sky and against the window in her room. Brushing the sleep out of her eyes, she was already excited what this day might bring.

After she had washed up and after taming her hair, she wanted to make her way downstairs to prepare a nice breakfast until she noticed a hunched figure sitting against the easel.

Quietly making her way towards the atelier, Y/N couldn’t hinder a little shake with her head before she smiled.

“Oh Kylo ...” looking at herself as an Acrylic painting, from his sketch last night, he wasted his whole night to finish this.

“Come on I will bring you to your bed...” she whispered, not to interrupt his sleep to harshly.

Laying one of his arms over her shoulder, both of them stumbled to his bedroom.

When she had finally placed him under his blanket and onto the soft mattress, it was time to make a nice breakfast until he would wake up.

Turning around to leave again, she suddenly felt his hand wrap around her wrist.

“Don’t go...” he started to mumble and she gently brushed the long strands of hair out of his face.

“I’m not going anywhere.” she promised. Carefully climbing next to him, she gently held onto his hand while watching this exhausted man sleep.

Of course he apologized immediately as soon as he awoke from his slumber, which only made her smile even more.

Y/N already started to make some delicious and wide range breakfast while Kylo could slowly wake up with a nice cup of hot coffee.

“What do you think of a walk outside today. The weather seemed to have calmed down and I don’t want to hold you in here like a golden cage.” suddenly feeling her lips against his temple hi eyes widened for a moment.

“I would love that, the area here seems so beautiful and calm.” the rest of his sentence she just ignored, while placing his full plate in front of him. Grabbing her hand for a moment, he pressed a small kiss against her soft skin.

The rest of the week it was mostly the same. After breakfast they would wander through the snowy landscape, Kylo sometimes sketching her right then and there or just enjoying each others company and the wonderful view they had. After that, he would mostly start working on the paintings with different materials while she quietly watched him. It was fascinating how much work he would put into just little details and how his eyes shimmered with excitement while he was working.

Sometimes he would call her over, just to inspect her face again with a tight grip around her jaw and at some moments Y/N thought he might just kiss her, but he never did. Maybe out of respect towards her, or maybe because he just saw her as an inspiration and nothing more.

In the evenings they would cook together and have hour long conversations.

”You can’t tell me that you are selling art supplies and not even tried to draw once.” he chuckled on the last evening they would have together.

“Well I just did and it is true!” she laughed, trying to hide her smile behind her hand again.

“Besides you also didn’t tell me that I would be the only model for your whole collection that will be displayed in an art exhibition.”

“Fair enough. And since all of them are finished...” he whispered ominously while he stood from the dinner table.

“We have enough time for one last one. Yours.” gently pulling her along, Y/N seemed confused for a moment.

“Right now?”

“Right now.” sitting her down in the usual bar chair he used, Kylo placed a fresh canvas on the easel, before standing closely behind her.

“B...but I don’t even know what to draw...” she immediately stuttered and felt embarrassed in front of such a big artist.

“That’s fine, we’ll work our way in… slowly.” holding out his hand, Y/N gently took it.

Soon both of their hands were covered in paint. Kylo was guiding her over the rough canvas, helping her create whatever she was imagining and together they created something so intriguing and passionate that they both needed a moment.

Slowly turning around to him, Y/N just cupped his face, staining his skin with every colour she had drawn with, like the time he left his handprints on her the first time they finally saw each other.

Pulling him gently down towards her, she just took the risk and let her lips brush over his plum ones.

In an instant, Kylo grabbed Y/N by her hips and picked her up only to sat her down on the table. Letting his hand run over her neck, he pulled her closer only intensifying this kiss even further.

Leaving paint all over the others bodies, both of them soon needed to separate from each other before they started to chuckle.

“All these months ago… I never would have thought that this might be the end of this journey.” he sighed, laying his head gently against her forehead.

“Oh Kylo, this is only the beginning.” stealing another kiss from him, they only smiled at each other.

#kylo ren #kylo ren au #kylo ren imagine #artist!kylo #artist!kylo ren #kylo #kylo imagine #kylo au #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo x reader #kylo x you #revengeworld

[that-curly-haired-lesbian]

Like many other Gaylors, I'm fascinated with Taymily from a historical perspective. We know so little about it compared to Swiftgron and Kaylor, and wondering about which Fearless and Speak Now songs may be about Emily drives me mad with curiosity! However, I admittedly feel a little unconventional when people talk about Taymily without critically noting some things. First of all, I've heard from some people that Emily had a guy at home while touring with Taylor. (2/3)

I’m all for people exploring their sexuality, and Isupport open relationships as long as they’re honest and healthy, but if Emilyreally did cheat on a partner at home that’s not cool! Secondly, I feel alittle uneasy about Taymily because of the age gap between Taylor and Emily.Taylor was 16/17 when she dated Emily, and Emily was 21. I’m 17 now, and I’dfeel really creeped out if somebody older than 19 tried to start a romanticrelationship with me.

I don’t doubt that Taylor used to be very mature forher age as a teenager, but no matter how intelligent or wise you are as achild, an adult is still in an entirely different ballpark! There’s also thefact that as somebody way more experienced in the music industry, Emily wasprobably way more knowledgeable than Taylor about what a closeted relationshipwould entail. Taking that into account, I can’t help but feel sorry for Taylor.Emily left her when she was barely of legal age!

I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for Taylorwhen Emily decided as a fully-fledged adult that being in a gay relationshipwasn’t in her best interests after all, and that she’d rather have ‘a husbandand kids’. I don’t think Emily is an evil person or anything, but I reallycan’t ignore the power of position she was in this context. Do you get what Imean? (Also please just ignore my divisions now they’re a mess sksksksk I’msorry)

I hope I don’t sound accusatory in these asks, becauseI’m still as fascinated with Taymily as other Gaylors, and I’m not mad or angryat anybody for being interested in them. But I feel like it’s important to notethat Taymily may have been a bit ethically murky at the time, and that therelationship may have not been ideal or healthy. What do you think? I’m sorryfor spamming your inbox, and I hope this doesn’t annoy you ;-; Thanks forhearing me out!

–

Hello dear!

First of all you make a lot of valid points here and don’t sound accusatory at all, I think it’s really important to have conversations like this. Secondly don’t apologize for the divisions and the length, figuring out how much text fits into a tumblr ask is a serious pain and you are not annoying at all, I love getting long asks like this! Lastly, I hope that this ask is the first and not in fact the second one of all that you sent, because if the division on this one is correct I’m afraid I didn’t receive the first one.

Also sorry in advance if my response makes no sense it became somewhat messy at times…

Now for your points:

 Itseems Emily did have a guy back homeat some point, which I’m basing off of this comment by Taylor, astatement that she allegedly dropped when introducing Emily during the rest ofthe shows, causing some Gaylors to assume perhaps Emily broke up with the dudeonce she fell for Taylor and thus didn’t cheat on anyone, at least not for theentire duration of her relationship with Taylor (not that any cheating, nomatter how brief is okay, of course.) Although I can admit that the “whathappens in L.A stays here” is reminiscent of cheating, which noooo Tay!

According to thisarticle though, Emily married a dude she was friends with in high school, perhaps giving the impression to somethat she had been with him the whole time including her time with Tay, but thearticle makes sure to point out that they reconnected after Emily returned home having left her position in Taylor’sband.

Of course the boyfriend mentioned by Taylor inthat clip could have been a different man from the one Emily ended up marrying,but since Taylor dropped the “Emily-has a boyfriend”-part of her introduction Ithink it’s relatively safe to assume Emily was single for the majority of hertime working for Taylor.  OR the more funpossibility is that Taylor herself is the “boyfriend” mentioned in theintroduction and she’s just messing around, implicitly warning people not tohit on her girl :P I guess we will never know for how long (if at all) Emilyhad a boyfriend while being with Taylor, but I hope everyone broke up witheveryone else before entering a different relationship of course, regardless I thinkit’s safe to assume Emily is bisexual and might have been figuring that outduring her time with Taylor. (Not that bisexual people cheat or that figuringout your sexuality makes cheating okay in any way, just wanted to point out thefact that she’s most likely bi)

 Inall honesty the older I get the more uneasy I become with the age gap too, I firstdiscovered Taymily when I myself was 16 and at the time I had several friendsmy age who were all dating people in their early 20’s so I suppose in my socialcircles at that time that age gap didn’t seem too significant. Although Now I’m23, about a year-ish older than Emily was when she first started going out withTay and let me tell you, I would personally feel incredibly uncomfortabledating a 16-17 old at this point in my life and do now consider that age gap verysignificant.

I agree that Taylor has likely always been avery mature and wise-beyond-her-years sort of person, but that still mostdefinitely doesn’t make someone over 18 dating her at 16-17 okay, like you say, it’s anentirely different ballpark.

To be somewhat fair though, I do not thinkEmily was more experienced in the industry than Taylor, actually I think itmight have been the other way around, see Taylor had been writing songs in atleast a semi-professional setting since age 13 or so, Emily just applied to thepoison of fiddle player for The Agency (not yet called that at that time)straight out of college where she to my understanding had been studyingsomething unrelated to music, I don’t think she’d been doing music in such aprofessional sense before joining Team Taylor. 

Iwant to state before I continue that I am not defending Emily the adult���s decision to enter a relationshipwith a minor, but I can imagine thatliving in such close courters and being on the road trying to figure thismusic-industry thing out must lend itself pretty well for unexpected  things to happen between people and I do notthink either of the two planned to fall for each other. Was it inadvisable andunprofessional and like you say a little ethically murky? Most definitely, butit did happen regardless of anyone’s intentions, just as things in life tendto.

 I do feel like had Emily stopped to reflect on the decision she would’ve mostlikely come to the conclusion that a relationship with Taylor wasn’t the bestidea from an image or closeting standpoint, but I do not think either of themwere prepared for the pushback their relationship would receive from managementand I do believe the Emily’s forced dismissal was out of both of their handsand it likely wasn’t Emily’s intention to leave so abruptly.  That being said I do think Taylor held on tohope that they’d be able to be together romantically regardless of the firingand I do think Emily shot her down there. Without a question it would have beenEmily’s responsibility as an adult to look at their relationship more clearlythan Taylor could and I agree with you that choosing not to do so most likelyput Emily in a power position that is indeed hard to ignore!

 Asfor Emily’s comments about leaving Taylor because she “wanted a husband andkids” that does strike me as some powerful internalized homophobia which makesme sad (Em, gay people can have those things too but okayyyyy) And I too oftenthink about how upsetting and borderline traumatic the whole experience ofthe firing, vigorous closeting by management and breakup that followed that must have been for Taylor as a teenager. I do think that’s the reason we gotso many heartbreaking songs (such as All Too Well) where it does appear she’sworking through some serious life-altering trauma related to her love life andalso by extension all of the bearding and closeting that followed all of this.

As mylast point I just want to make absolutely clear that this is all speculation asto what happened between Taylor and Emily and how their relationship playedout, we will never know the facts. Furthermore, we all know that I am Taymily trash and will continue to enjoy this ship to the day I die, but this is a super important conversationto have as we continue to explore Taymily and other of Taylor’s relationshipsin an analytic light!

Thankyou so much for these asks, anon! 😊😊😊

#gaylor swift #taymily #asks

[wydmariana]

well hellooooo beautiful people !!  my name’s dani, i’m one of the admins on the main! i’m 20, i’m from toronto & i also play the hailey fc alanna !! i’m so fkn excited to have wealthy back up & running and to bring my baby mariana back ! she’s the same old girl and if you don’t know anything about her...everything u need is under the read more ! i rly need all the connections rn so like this & i’ll hit you up for plots !!!!

❛ new york’s very own mariana cavello was spotted on broadway street in  christian louboutin’s. your resemblance to selena gomez is unreal. according to tmz, you just had your twenty-third birthday bash. while living in new york, you’ve been labeled as being reticent, but also quixotic. i guess being a gemini explains that. three things that would paint a better picture of you would be fishnets, tequila shots, notebooks filled with lyrics. & ( cisfemale & she/her ) + ( dani, 20, she/her, est )

☇   ❪    ˚･ﾟ ❛ STATISTICS :

full name: mariana marisol cavello

nickname(s): mari

age: twenty three

date of birth: june 4th

hometown: new york city

current location: upper east side, new york city

ethnicity: half mexican

nationality: american

gender: cisfemale

pronouns: she/her

parents names: tanner hastings, liliana cavello

orientation: pansexual but she doesn’t like labels

religion: grew up catholic, undecided

political affiliation: democrat

occupation: singer/songwriter

living arrangements: lives in her own mansion in the upper east side

language(s) spoken: english, spanish

accent: american

face claim: selena gomez

hair colour: x (most basic/accurate/but it changes)

eye colour: brown

height: 5″5

weight: 120lbs

build: petite

tattoos: mostly selena’s canon, but x instead of the music note

piercings: x (both ears)

drugs/alcohol/sex: yes/yes/yes

pets: one cat, 5 years old, named sergio - x

astrological chart: gemini sun, cancer moon, scorpio rising

☇   ❪    ˚･ﾟ ❛  BACKSTORY/CURRENT :

mariana was born to tanner cavello (famous hotel owner, entrepreneur, multimillionaire, been on forbes, think bart bass) & lilliana cavello (hispanic model/socialite)

her parents marriage was very much settling, the two of them cared about each other & were excited to start their life together in effort to please their parents and keep their images pristine

they were quick to fall out of love though, if you could say they were even ever in it

once mariana and her brother became teenagers, their dad started having affairs with his employes, the hot, young ones of course. & their mom found out, but confided in a 16 year old mariana about her father’s actions

( sexual abuse tw ) this infuriated mariana, especially considering the hours she would spend waiting outside her father’s office doing homework while his business partners molested her in the empty conference room starting at the age of 14

she never told anyone about it, although she knew her father had known the whole time, remembering how many times he’d interrupt it by summoning his partners for work or a meeting

mariana began absolutely hating her father, while still yearning for his approval, & this went on for 4 years until she turned 18 and got revenge by sleeping with one of her dad’s business partners & allowing his wife to find out

so his wife threatened to tell the media about this little scandal, unless mari’s dad paid them off, which is exactly what he did but not before taking his anger out on mariana & blaming her for the whole mess

she has barely talked to her dad since & moved out right as that whole situation went down. she does her best to avoid family gatherings, doesn’t visit the house to see her parents too often. she does have weekly phone calls with her mom & tries to see her as often as she can, no matter how much she resents her

she got into the party scene around 17/18 as well, and became new york’s resident “wild child rich kid/socialite” in her teen years, so she has that reputation in the media still to this day

her parents have been rich as fuck since the day she was born, so she’s definitely a spoiled brat, never worked a day in her life, had daddy’s credit card whenever she needed it

music had always been a passion of hers though, being her favorite class in school(on days when she would actually attend)

so when she was 20, she started getting back into writing, sold a couple of her songs to artists like zendaya, the weeknd, etc

when she turned 21 she released her first single & album within the same year, began touring, and got to the top of the charts almost right away & gained a huge fanbase, whom she loves

she’s now 23 and has two studio albums out !! she’s v successful and happy w her music <3 she releases things very sporadically & im probs gonna  release random selena songs along with other voice claims maybe IDKDKKD hope yall dont mind  my  messy ass kskffsk

she works hard though, & loves writing and releasing music now and never wants to stop. it’s truly the thing that makes her most happy in the entire world and keeps her sane

☇   ❪    ˚･ﾟ ❛  PERSONALITY  :

mariana can be a brat, to put it simply. she thinks she’s always right about everything & it’s rare you’re ever gonna get an apology from her when she’s done something wrong (unless she really cares about you which….)

she’s lowkey a softie, bc of her cancer moon tbh. she tends to get herself into relationships and then mess them up for the sake of it or because she stops trusting herself to be in the relationship at all

but when she loves someone, she LOVES them, like w every fibre in her body u know?

and she cares fiercely about people, it ends up being a problem for her a lot of the time

she hasn’t worked through her trauma & probably never will, she bottles that shit up tight & doesn’t let anybody know it’s there. the only way she’s ever opening up is if she’s writing, cause she wants that shit to be real

but she’s still gonna hoe it up, catch her in the club trying to get some dick for the night, u know what i mean?

super depressed if we’re being real here. she’s sad, and she has abandonment issues because of her dad. so her mindset is- there’s no forming attachments, because everyone leaves me anyway

( drugs tw ) she loves cocaine, is most definitely an addict (but who isn’t in this city), tequila is her alcohol of choice, but she’ll drink anything you give her & weed is her creative saving grace

she started popping pain pills on her 21st birthday, opioids occasionally & mostly xanax, stuff like that, is most definitely also addicted to those

we love a bitch who doesn’t care about her health!

her management team frowns upon it, but she does smoke cigarettes pretty often, but mostly only when she’s stressed

mariana’s the type of bitch to call the paparazzi on herself, she loves attention. but with her music career now it’s been 10x harder for her to keep her life private, not that she cares. but at least she doesn’t have to call the paps on herself anymore lol

she thinks it’s important to treat people w kindness and respect, but no doubt she’ll be ready to fight a b*tch if she has to…

catch her at any protest that involves saying “fuck you trump”

her instagram is a big mix of stories of her cat, dumb selfies, ig model posts, her friends, career stuff & political posts. she’s very active on the gram & snapchat lol

honestly thank U for reading this trash if u didnt…i understand. catch her pinterest board for more here & i have a wanted connections page here ! ok bye i love u, plot w me <3

#wealthyhq:intro

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Aaron Hotchner / Selfish (Part One)

For @future-ll-evans:

Requests: 2 with hotch? (I swear I won’t let happen again) 

A story where after Haley he dates the reader and her and Jack get kidnapped (not unlike Haley and Jack) but he saves them in time and learns that Reader refused to let the unsub hurt Jack! Fluffy fluffy! 

Fluffy fluffy huh? More like angsty, angsty. I’m sorry I’m terrible and it’s two AM and I’ve been fasting for almost a month and my new job started this week and I have summer classes. I am #suffering. But hey, I’ve been sitting on this for a while, so I thought i’d throw it up here. Enjoy ;) (Watch out for part two). 

“We can’t find them, Hotch.” 

Aaron Hotchner had a number of bad days, but for every bad one, there was always one that was worse. But there were only three days he could say were the absolute worst days of his life. And it seemed today was one of them. 

Yet again. 

And this time, he couldn’t even say that he had learned anything from the last time, except that he wasn’t in time last time, but he wouldn’t be late again. He couldn’t be. Otherwise, it would mean the end of him, yet again. Haley’s death was one that was undeserved, and one she received only for falling for him, for marrying him, and for loving him, even when she couldn’t be with him. It was this love that allowed her to be fooled, to be led into a trap, and killed in the same house as her little boy stood, in the same house they had raised their family. It was the same house Hotch grew to resent, as it represented not only what had been and what had happened, but what never would be. And he had though love was one of those things, the one thing that would never be. 

Until you. 

But first, you had found your way into Jack’s heart, and then snuck into his own. 

Jack’s teacher, a cliché within itself, the very same woman who had called Aaron Hotchner into her classroom, even upon several reschedules and multiple well intentioned excuses (but excuses nonetheless), but insisted upon speaking to him. His nerves grew at your insistence, as his mind tried to decipher any patterns or traces of the root of why you wanted to desperately meet him so badly, but all he found was an overuse of commas. Was Jack acting out? Had he said something about him? About his job? About his mother? Each possibility only filled him with dread, as he painfully forced each one to the back of his mind. There was no use anticipating what he couldn’t predict, or profile for that matter. 

And so, he sat, foot tapping, as he checked his phone incessantly, almost waiting for criminals to scoop him away from this, arguably, unsettling experience, even more so than facing down mass murderers. Because, at least with that, he knew what to expect. And he surely did not expect you. 

Your hair fell past your shoulders, brushing behind your ear with one swipe of your fingers. Your face was contemplative, almost curious, as your head turned to and fro, until you saw him. Your grin grew as you spotted the F.B.I. agent sat, much like a child outside the principal’s office, or so he felt, his features hard faced and stern (as you teased him later when recalling this moment). “You must be Mr. Hotchner, or should I say, Agent Hotchner?” Your chuckle lightened the apprehensive mood, as he stood up to shake your hand. 

A smile pulled at his lips, as you welcomed into your classroom, brushing past his shoulder almost on purpose if that half smile he spotted was any indication. “Aaron is fine, and it’s nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N,” 

“It’s Ms. L/N actually,” You corrected lightly, as you rounded your desk, rifling through the stacks of papers that lined your desk, “I did not earn my M.R.S. degree, but I am working toward my doctorate.” 

“I’m sorry, I only assumed because of -” He gestured to the ring on your finger, and your other hand held the ring, twisting it upon your finger just as your feelings did: amusement into melancholy, and then back again, as your eyes met his own. 

“Ah, yes, wearing this is a bit of a habit still,” Your words were soft, sentence coming to a sudden halt as you realized what just slipped from your lips. He cleared his throat, as to assuage the silence, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t seem to know you were holding. And he knew, you were going through the same he had those two years ago, and in that moment, there were so many things he wanted to tell you. 

It gets better. You will be better. You are strong. You are needed. The very same things that got him out of bed every morning, made him get dressed, and leave for work. But Aaron held back, as he always did. You didn’t need to be profiled, you weren’t a criminal – you were a teacher going through the worst loss of your life. That much was evident. 

“Anyway,” a shaky chuckle and a small smile later, you had pulled out Jack’s records from the pile. “we need to talk about Jack.” And again, those same concerns pressed upon his throat, a chokehold upon his very heart and head: his son. But to your relief, you only had praises to sing about his son, explaining his progress, his growth, and the plans for the next year to come. 

“As I’ve said, Jack is doing absolutely wonderful, but there is one thing I’d like to discuss.” You bit your lip, as you looked down upon his son’s picture, and back at him again. “I’ve been having the students keep a journal every day, they are allowed to write about anything they wish, as long as they write something. Students can leave it, either in that shelf,” You pointed to an almost completely empty shelf, “And I won’t read those journals, only flip through the entries, or they can leave it in the other.” 

Journals were piled high in the other, some in neat stacks, while the others in messy mounds. “Jack has always allowed me to read his journal.” Aaron’s throat felt dry, as he wracked his brain for any mention of a journal, but none came to mind. “He writes about a lot of normal things, but he also writes a lot about you and his mom.” You swallowed, licking your own lips to calm your own nerves. “His mother, he’s been mentioning her more and more in her essays, but you are appearing less and less.” And he felt the hands tighten around his chest, as his heart constricted, the muscle tissue contracting painfully. “Have you been working more? Has there been a change?” 

No, no, it wasn’t work. It wasn’t him. Relief rushed his body, but was quickly followed by a flood of grief. He knew what it was. “No, we are actually coming up on the anniversary of his mother’s death,” his words were soft, sending a quiet hush through the already empty classroom. “He tends to talk about her more during this time.” His voice caught in his throat, a tight squeeze as the pain refused to ebb away. “I assume the same could be said for his writing.” 

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” You looked away, blinking rapidly, willing away any forthcoming tears. “I know you’ve probably have heard that a million times already, but it doesn’t change the fact that I deeply and truly am sorry.” 

“Speaking from personal experience?” He didn’t catch himself this time, the throbbing of his mind dulling his filter. He shook his head, holding up his hand in apology. “You don’t need to –”

“I want to,” You interrupted, again, your tongue darting out to lick your still dry lips, cracking just as your composure was on the verge of collapse. “My fiancée, he passed several months ago, and as you can see,” You held up your ring, “I still haven’t quite brought myself to leave him behind yet.” You waved him off as his mouth opened, anticipating his own condolences. “I just mean…I understand.” 

“Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say, as there was nothing left to. In that moment, Aaron knew there was something special about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Even when he returned for Parents’ Day, he barely spoke a word to you, and yet he saw how you were with, not only with Jack, but with every child. Gentle, loving, and warm – the very warmth he felt radiating off you, even though you held so much sadness. As teachers and parents shuffled out of the room, he had stayed behind as Jack ran to grab something from his locker. “How do you do it?” 

Your back turned, a smile peeking through your lips, even as confusion pulled at your eyes. “What do you mean?” You took a few steps forward, placing a few stray items away, before facing him again. “I didn’t think you had an interest in teaching, Aaron.” 

He followed suit, growing closer to you. The way your voice said his name: it made his heart beat harder each time, but he didn’t know why. Or rather, he wished he didn’t. “How do you stay so cheerful, even when you’re feeling so much pain?” It was a question he often struggled with himself, especially the first year without Haley. The façade of normalcy was one he bore with great difficulty, one that bowed his back and sent fissures and fractures through the mask he donned each day. And yours was removed in that moment, as his fingers brushed against your hand, your eyes flitting to his touch before they met his own, the pain staring back. 

“Because, if I show how much pain I’m in, I’ll never get back up,” You whispered back, and your eyes fell away as you turned you back on him again. 

“You don’t need to hide it,” He watched you step away, eyes glancing out at the empty hallway, “you should let people help you, Y/N.” 

A bitter chuckle scraped through your throat, “Who’s even left at this point?” 

“Dad?” Jack peeked through the door, the hinges already sending the two of you jumping apart, as his son frowned. “Are you ready to go?” 

He forced his gaze from you to his son, who stood do-eyed in confusion, looking from “Yes, I’m coming.” He then turned to you, a curt nod and a handshake, your hand enveloped by his larger one. Your hand was barely shaking, a slight quaver that gave away the truth you desperately tried to conceal and tuck away into the corners of your mind and your heart, but he was able to see it. Because he had been through the same. 

But nothing else had happened after you parted ways, as it should have. Months passed, and he only saw you again, a year later, at the next parent-teachers conference, as you stood in the hall, watching the students go in and out of the classrooms. Eyes softer than before, some of the pain foregone from before, and your arms crossed, ring notably absent from your finger, as you finally looked up and met his gaze from across the hall. 

And there you were again. 

“I can’t believe how fast Jack grew up,” You sipped your steaming coffee, as you gave a small chuckle, a shake of your head at his picture now. “He’s going to be a young man soon.” 

“You’re telling me,” He murmured, as a sigh caught in his throat at the thought of Jack becoming an adult: going to middle school, then high school, his first girlfriend, heartbreak, and then college… It was all passing by so quickly. And soon, he would be alone. Jack was enough, but for how long? How much longer did he really have left? He glanced at you, the evening light reflecting in your eyes, a ghost of a smile upon your lips. And he wondered what it would be like to actually hear you laugh, to see you smile, and to hold the hand that now remained bare. But even as he looked at you, he couldn’t do it. It would be too forward, it would be too hard. 

“Aaron,” You stirred him from his reverie, your stature had straightened, though your expression had softened, a small blush dusting your cheeks. “Do you think we could have dinner sometime?”  And he paused, not because his desire to know you was any less strong, but rather the constant fear of allowing another to get close to him, as Haley had, grew ever more present. It cried out for him to turn you away, that the both of you would be better off, that he would be better off alone. 

But, in that moment, he spotted your fingers mindlessly fiddling with your hair; your mouth pursed, trying to desperately not to bit your bottom lip; and your eyes were shying away from his own, cheeks blooming with the same love that would only grow over the next year. And he longed to see all those things once again: when his fingers finally could brush yours without hesitance; where he could dare to look upon your rosy cheeks without your gaze leaving his own; and when he could kiss those lips you were trying so hard not to bite. 

In short, he was selfish. 

His pause gave you leave to backtrack, your mouth opening to retract your offer, body moving away, but he stopped you with a smile and a nod. 

“I would love to.” 

And those four words now could mean your death. And it would be at the hands of not only Mr. Scratch, but his own selfishness. 

“Hotch? Hotch,” A hand on his shoulder jarred him from his thoughts, as Morgan’s hand lifted immediately from his perch upon his shoulder as if he was a man burned. “We finally got ahold of Jessica, but Jack…” Another treacherous pause, one that left him standing at the edge of ocean, only waiting to swallow him whole, and he had already left the tide take him once. And he lost more than just a little of his humanity. He had lost his wife. “He took Jack too.” 

And he couldn’t to lose anyone else. 

“Is Jessica okay?” She was, shaken and horrified, but alive. And that’s what mattered. And that’s more than he could say about you and about his son.

“Does she know anything?” 

“He told her that they were going to the place where it all started.” Morgan’s arms were crossed, eyes intent on examining even the slightest change of expression in his face, any flicker of emotion or a glimmer of realization that would give away the fact that he knew where they were. And he did, but he would not hide that from the team, not this time. He had learned his lesson, and he had learnt it the hard way. 

“I know where they are.” 

Susannah Regan’s former home still stood where it did several months prior, though now wholly abandoned. Rumors had spread about what had occurred there, both in the town and with his team. No one had truly known what had happened in that house that night, but only that a woman killed herself at the compulsion of a serial killer, whom was taken away by the illustrious FBI. But soon these rumors had weaved themselves into folklore of a man able to possess the minds of any with his dark illusions, and of the FBI who wanted to cover it up as simply a serial killer. 

But that’s all he was. A killer. And Hotch had made sure he knew that. He was nothing more than a bully, he had reduced him from the moral seeking avenger he had built himself up to be, and Mr. Scratch did not like that. And as a punishment, he had tried to breach Hotch’s mind, to tumble the walls of sanity and shatter past the defenses he had carefully placed over the past decades. 

And he had almost succeeded. Almost. 

But now, Mr. Scratch had no farce. No, he had Jack and he had you. And as he drove the FBI van closer and close back to Regan’s house, he couldn’t help, images of team dying he had forced before Hotch’s eyes were now replaced with you and Jack. His hands gripped the wheel, as adrenaline and fear roused him from his spiral. No, Peter Lewis was a man who thrived on the power he had, on the puppet strings he pulled on, and the lives he destroyed. Hotch’s life was one of the lives he longed to destroy. 

And it seemed he just might do it. 

“We’re here,” Morgan announced, as the house appeared on the horizon, a beacon of dread and fear, and even as Morgan urged him to stop, Hotch’s foot only pressed further on the pedal, almost running the car through the wall, until he slammed down on the break. “Hotch, what the hell do you think–”

He had no time.

Grief was a process, one Hotch had chosen to venture into privately. He had never shown his co-workers his capacity to grieve, which seemed boundless in the same sense as the ocean was – the waves came; pulled him under until his fingers couldn’t breach the surface any longer; his breathes only came in small windows, small gasps with lungsful of salt water; and there were times he swam down, wanting to reach the bottom. But he didn’t. It was the team that kept him moving, kept him from drowning, by grief’s hand or his own. But Jack had truly kept him afloat, and as did you. You knew grief as well as he did, it was a process, and one that never ended. But the waves did recede, as tides did, growing and shrinking as the days passed, and the days were better with you by his side. 

He kicked the door open, adrenaline pounding through every vein, his fingers taut around the barrel of his gun, fighting off images of Jack and you in place of his dead teammates. Would yours eyes rolled back? Or would they be wide open in fear? Would the blood pool around your entire body? Or would Mr. Scratch end it quickly right in front of his face? His breathing was heavy, as he started through the house, the footsteps behind him telling him that the team had caught up. 

“It’s clear,” He croaked, as he blinked away the images that rose to the surface of his false memories. “They’re not here.” The enormity of his failure almost knocked him off his feet, his fingernails digging into his palm, clutching at nothing as he was now. 

The house shook. He punched the wall, his hand practically going through it. He was always too late. He was never enough. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, and it killed him five years ago, and it still killed him now. He was always too late. Rossi laid a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed it aside, pacing as he examined the room once again. There was no sign of you or Jack, and no sign of life for that matter. And he wasn’t sure which fact unnerved him more. 

“I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again,” He felt no pain, even as he could see his fingers start to bruise, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

“I swore.” 

“We can still find them, Hotch, they couldn’t have gotten far,” Morgan radioed in SWAT, ordering them to check the perimeter and put up roadblocks, as the team 

“There are fresh tire treads around back,” Reid added, coming in from around back, his brow furrowed. “They left, but it wasn’t that long ago.” 

“It doesn’t matter, we’re still five steps behind him, and that means we’re still five steps behind saving Jack and Y/N,” His feet moved of their own accord, heading out the door. “We need to move, and we need to move now–” 

“Hotch, wait,” J.J.’s voice quieted everyone, “listen.” 

A small thump came from below. And another. And another. 

He didn’t realize he was sprinting until he was at the basement door, practically barreling himself down the steps, his heart shredded to bits by his throat, and his vocal cords straining not to scream for you or Jack. And his flashlight shone around, and there he saw something move. 

“Jack,” He whispered, as if his words would cause the illusion to dissolve before his very grasp, but he grabbed his son’s hand, and he did not dissolve. “Jack.” He undid the chains on his hand, enveloping him in his arms, eyes still scanning for any sign of harm, of hurt. But there was none. 

“Dad, I knew you’d come,” He whispered, his voice raspy, his tears wet against his chest, each one hurting more than bullets. “Y/N said you would.” He lifted his son’s face, holding it in his hands. “She wouldn’t let him touch me,” The tears slipped down his cheeks, over his father’s fingers, “She kept talking over him, interrupting him, getting in his way. He said that she was just like you, Daddy.” He had to stop a sob from ripping through his body, he still had to find you. “I’m sorry, Dad, I couldn’t do anything.” 

“It’s not your fault, Buddy,” He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing back his bangs to kiss his forehead. “It was never your fault.” 

“Buddy, I need you to think,” He wished he had time to hold his son, to reassure him, but he didn’t. “Did he say anything about where he was taking her? Or what he was doing next?” 

“He said he would call, when you found me, he said he would call.” But how would he know? His eyes scanned the room, and spotted a flashing red light. 

And in that moment, his cellphone rang. “Garcia,” Reid signaled, telling her to triangulate the call, and Hotch waited as the phone continued to wail. “Go.” Every breath he took in that moment was calculated, no longer was each breath autonomic, but rather a work of effort, as was every word was through gritted teeth and choked anger. “Where is she, Lewis?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Aaron?” He stared right at the camera, the blinking light taunting him just as Lewis did. “Don’t you remember? You do what I say.” He controlled his fury, biting back several pointed remarks about Lewis and his father, and his past, instead gritting his teeth at the thought of you. “What do you want me to do?” 

“First, I would like you to say hello to Ms. L/N here,” Hotch heard a yelp in the background, the sound of a chair scraping against a concrete floor. “She’s under the terrible impression that I killed you, which isn’t simply true. You know that best of all, don’t you Aaron?” And he did. Mr. Scratch didn’t get his hands dirty with murder. No, his hands were too busy, prying open the locks on minds. “Talk to her, see that I wasn’t lying to you.” 

“A-Aaron?” Your voice was shaky, dry, just as Jack’s were. He hadn’t been giving you much water, if at all. “Did you find Jack? Is he okay?” 

“Y/N, I got Jack, and I’m going to get you now. I’m coming to get you. It’s going to be okay.” His tone was even, attempting to keep every iota of fear and anger out of his voice, because he knew if he allowed even one, it would be over. Lewis would have the power. And he wouldn’t need you anymore. 

“I love you, Aaron, but listen to me, please – please don’t come,” And the phone was wrenched away from you, as the chair was pushed back once again. 

“How sweet, but we both know Aaron isn’t leaving you here with me. Now, let’s get down to business, Aaron,” His laugh echoed over the phone line, “I’m quite antsy to reach our endgame. There will be no games this time, I’m going to give you an address, and all you have to do is arrive there, alone. And you are to enter alone armed or unarmed. But come alone.” He whispered the address. 

Click. 

The click was the same as the one a silenced gun gave, the very one that was pressed to your forehead in this moment, as he knew if he didn’t do as Peter Lewis said, there is no possibility that you would live. He knew what his team would say. It is a trap. He wants you alone so he can do the same things he did before. It would be safer to go as a team. 

But he simply did not care. 

He needed to finish this, and he needed to finish this alone.

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