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shinsousbedroom · 3 years

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Stars and their Distance

Daiya no Ace misawa FWB AU, 1/10 chapters

Miyuki Kazuya, a depressed, workaholic catcher in the NPB, and Sawamura Eijun, a frustrated influencer who just got dumped, are both looking for temporary distraction. The casual, no-strings-attached friends with benefits thing they stumble into is exactly that.

Well, it would be if either of them knew how to do casual.

[Read on AO3.]

Chapter 1: Spinning

Excerpt from “Ace of Hearts: a blog about when love comes outta left field!; Q&A: Bad Break-Up Blues”

“[…] Think of relationships like this. You’re a pitcher on the mound and there’s a line up of batters waiting to knock your ball outta the park. These are your dating prospects. When you’ve gotten hurt pitching before—tore a tendon, drilled the batter, balked, whatever it was—you might not wanna pitch again, right? But the only surefire way to lose the game is to not throw the ball at all.

“You might be thinking, ‘But Eijun, if the batter hits a home run off your pitch, aren’t you losing the game?’ Well, if you think the point of the game is to win, sure. But to me, the point of baseball isn’t victory. It’s playing the best game you can with the best players you can. The same can be said for love. Some batters will foul out early, and some runners will never make it all the way home. But when you make that connection, when that bat slams the ball out of the park and the whole field feels the electric rush of a phenomenal play that you helped make—isn’t that a beautiful moment to chase after? Isn’t that feeling worth the risk that comes with love?

“So no matter how unlikely a batter steps up to your plate—and there will be batters you didn’t anticipate—throw the pitch! I promise, every strikeout and home run just makes you a better pitcher and brings you a step closer to a beautiful game. […]”

***

“Did you have to move right after the end of the season?” Kuramochi wiped off the sweat from his face with the bottom of his blue shirt. The whole thing was already drenched dark, consistently doused with water the whole day through as Kuramochi drained bottles over his head to beat back the unseasonably hot September day. “Take a fucking break first, Miyuki.”

Kazuya spat out a handful of screws. The bitter, metallic aftertaste clung to his mouth. “Why delay?” he said, tossing the instruction manual for his shelf to the side in frustration. It skittered across the hardwood floor and into Chris’ calf.

Chris plucked the booklet up and thumbed through the pages of mildly helpful pictograms, eyeing them warily against Kazuya’s clear lack of progress. “Yeah, Miyuki. Why delay?”

Kazuya shot Chris a sour look and flopped back onto the ground with a groan, defeated. “Not like we’re busy during postseason this year.”

They sighed in unison, united in the bitterness of loss.

At least Chris’ team had been only one out from the Climax Series. The Swallows hadn’t come close, and even though it was expected from a rebuild year, the loss still rankled. Small mercies, though: Kazuya could rub in the fact that the Swallows hadn’t been last place in their league unlike the Mariners.

Suck it, Kuramochi. He’d take his victories where he could.

Kazuya stuck his hand into the air, spreading his fingers wide as the overhead lights filtered between them. “Anyway. Moving is work, and you all banned me from working for the next four months. So really, I’m being responsible here.” His hand flopped down next to him with a hard thunk.

Kuramochi trudged over, heavy steps echoing through the empty apartment, until his head popped into Kazuya’s vision, arms crossed and scowl fierce. “If you wanna try to fight this again, just give me a fucking reason to pin you into a headlock until you’re crying for mercy.”

Kazuya grabbed at his ankle, rolling onto his stomach for a second swipe as Kuramochi danced out of reach.

“You can’t pull a fast one on the cheet—AH!”

His ankles caught the edge of the shelf boards, knocking Kuramochi onto his ass. The wooden slats scraped across each other as they slid out of their neat stacks, thumping and scratching the floor until they were criss-crossed between Kazuya cackling into the floor on his stomach and Kuramochi, shocked and sprawled across the debris.

“Fucking build your furniture, Miyuki!” He cradled his foot in his hands, holding it up to inspect as he twisted it every which way. “We’re not doing the same thing as last time, when it took you a full year to finally put all your shit together.”

The weight of apathy slid back into Kazuya’s limbs, edging out the laughter that had given him a moment of relief. “What if I just didn’t?”

“Is that what you want?” Chris replied evenly.

He lolled his head towards Chris. Despite the heat, Chris had spent all day in a black turtleneck, never once hinting he was even mildly uncomfortable even at the peak of the day’s heat, lugging in heavy boxes from the sun-warmed streets. Now sitting on the floor among bubble wrap and crumpled paper, legs kicked out in front of him and waves of brown bangs framing his face, he still looked as wholly put together as ever.

Even when Kazuya knew beyond a doubt Chris was the epitome of keeping a stone face even when he was going through the worst of it, he still couldn’t help but be jealous.

Kazuya went back to staring at the unfamiliar gray tiles on his new ceiling. “It would be pretty funny to leave my apartment unfurnished to spite Kuramochi.”

“Finish the shelf.” Chris tossed the manual back.

“Kominato’s the one who left the task half-done,” Kazuya said, closing his eyes, overwhelmed in a sudden wash of fury and helplessness.

He opened his eyes to see Kuramochi and Chris hovering above him again. Both their brows were furrowed, Kuramochi’s fist clenched at his collar, Chris frowning mildly.

“I’m fine,” Kazuya said brusquely.

They glanced at each other, then back at Kazuya.

He sat up, forcing the other two to reel back to avoid knocking their heads together. “I’m 27, not 7,” he said, testily. “I don’t need to be put under a watch, I’m a grown ass adult.”

“We aren’t gonna—we can’t sit to the side and watch you nearly kill yourself from overwork again this off-season.”

“Don’t exaggerate—“

“You said you had it together last year, but you didn’t. So you’re getting strict rules this year,” Kuramochi tugged at his hair, a frustrated sneer on his face. “The Swallows and your agent both know not to let you pile on more than your bare minimum until preseason. And the rest of us are going to check on you regularly because we care about your health, even when you don’t. Got it?”

“It’s not overwork,” he said, falling into the same argument that had been chipping away at him for a year now.

“Then what is it?”

The only coping mechanism that works. The only way I can pretend to feel anything off the diamond. The only thing that makes me tired enough to sleep at night without baseball 24/7.

He settled on: “It’s just work. Making a living, some might say.”

“Hard to do that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed.”

“That won’t happen again. I was just stressed and tired and a bad day caught me off guard.”

“Yeah, it won’t again because we’re gonna help make sure the off-season doesn’t wreck you again after a long history of hiding your fucking problems until they explode.”

“At least you can’t take conditioning away from me.”

“Follow the plan your trainers set for you.” Chris’ voice cut into Kazuya’s stubbornness. “Please don’t joke about this with me.”

After a moment, Kazuya nodded his head, brusque.

Kuramochi rubbed the back of his neck, trying to break the awkward air that had sprung up between them. “Isn’t exercise supposed to help depressed people? Boost your serotonin up or some shit like that?”

“Just my luck it doesn’t,” Kazuya muttered. He cleared his throat. “Can we go back to harassing me about how bad I am at unpacking?”

“We wouldn’t harass you if you just did it.” Kuramochi stood back up and kicked at a box as he went back to sweeping the floors. “Unpack before the season starts up again. You have nearly five months. If you’re feeling feisty, try decorating your apartment, too.”

“My entire personality is baseball. I don’t care about interior design. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“You used to. Pick up your old hobbies. Bring out that telescope you had at back at Waseda. Read a memoir. All the shit you can’t do during the season, drag ‘em out into the open again.”

The wrong answer, he knew, was to reiterate that he didn’t care about any of that anymore. Seriously. “You two are busy-bodies.”

Chris handed him the power drill then returned to the pile of securely wrapped glass kitchenware. “It’s called friendship,” he said, bubble wrap crinkling.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Just try, Miyuki. Please.”

“Sure,” he said, flippantly, knowing the lie didn’t pass unnoticed from the sag in Kuramochi’s shoulders. He thumbed through the instructions, pushing aside the guilt welling into his throat. Kazuya needed this conversation to be over. “Chris-senpai, where’d you put the drill bits?”

***

“Hjnhbgfgvbhnjmknjbhgvfdbghnjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj” wasn’t the most eloquent start to Eijun’s next blog post. Of course, Eijun normally didn’t start his articles by rolling his face across the keyboard in frustration, but considering how little he’d written in the past week, this was as good a draft as any.

Eijun’s eyes flung open as the laptop shifted from under his face, tipping his head off to thunk into the table. He rubbed at his forehead, and blinked up to find Harucchi tapping delicately at the keyboard while the other hand balanced the device in the air. “Eijun-kun,” said Harucchi, peering from around the screen, “not your finest work.”

Eijun sat up and scowled, the lines of his face scrunching against the keyboard indents on his skin. “What would you know about it?”

“I’ve been editing your posts for years,” Harucchi said. He settled the laptop in front of Eijun, then settled into the chair across from him. “If you’d like me to stop now, I can happily use that time in other ways.”

The dishes rattled when Eijun slammed his palm onto the table. “You’re not allowed to ditch me like that!”

Harucchi raised his eyebrows. “Says the man who’s been avoiding me.”

A double blow of panic and then confusion struck him. He frowned and swiveled his head around. Snaking line at the counter, coffee scenting the air, a low hum of incomprehensible chatter: this was definitely the coffee shop he’d just discovered this morning and came to by himself and didn’t tell Harucchi about. “How’d you find me?”

“You should stop posting your location on Instagram if you don’t want to be found,” he offered with a gentle smile.

“You don’t live anywhere near here.”

“A teammate just moved to the neighborhood. It was pure luck I happened to be there while you happened to be here.” He ran his fingers against the edge of a plate by Eijun’s elbow, empty of all but crumbs. “It’s a cute shop. New haunt for you?” he asked, a touch too casual.

Eijun averted his eyes, lips pinching. He knew what Harucchi was really asking. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“I’m doing fine,” Eijun insisted. “Really.”

“I’m glad you stopped feeling obligated to go to the other cafe.” His voice was barely loud enough to reach Eijun, covered by the clatter and call of employees, and a particularly rowdy group of seven students packed at a four person table next to his little corner.

“The old place got too many baristas who sucked,” Eijun lied. As if Harucchi didn’t already know that he’d only just shoved his pride aside enough to accept he’d lost his favorite coffee shop to the break-up. “Had to find a new one.”

Harucchi pried open the plastic lid to his coffee, blowing at the steam rising from the cup. He drew in a long, slow slip of his drink. “Maybe a fresh start here means a fresh start with the blog. Talk about grinding new beans, or something…?” Eijun blanched, well aware that Harucchi’s innocent reputation was a front.

“If you think I am going to subject my loyal followers to love advice using bean grinding as the topic—”

“You’ll have to excuse me if you had an idea in mind already. I’d thought from the keysmashing that you hadn’t.” Eijun aimed a kick at his shin under the table. Without looking, Harucchi crossed his legs, as if he’d planned on it for that exact moment all along instead of the attempt to dodge Eijun’s ire that it really was. “Is there a reason you can’t find an appropriate topic for your next post?”

Eijun cheeks puffed out, determined for two whole seconds not to tell Harucchi the truth, before blurting out, “I promised Wakana we’d wait a few months before officially announcing we broke up.” And yep—there it was, that classic Kominato passively skeptical look that circled past nonjudgmental so thoroughly that it ended up aggressively intimidating. The one that meant Harucchi was seconds away from bulldozing through all the nonsense he was seeing ahead of him. Eijun lived in terror of it. “She wanted to give us a chance to recuperate in private first,” he muttered, defensive.

“Eijun-kun.”

“I know, I know! A smart idea for people like Wakana, but I don’t…like wallowing like this. I can’t keep sitting here thinking about how much she doesn’t want me, and it’s all I want to write about. But I can’t post any of it. It’s been nearly two months, and I haven’t moved on. I’ve just gotten madder.”

“You two didn’t consider posting a small announcement saying you were over but you needed time? Space?”

“I couldn’t ask her.” Eijun subsided, spinning his teacup in its saucer with a single finger hooked through its tiny handle. “I owe her, Harucchi. The only reason I started lifestyle and romance blogging was because Wakana got me into it. I made my start on her profiles with her followers. Talking about her now? Why we broke up? Even if I want to, it sounds like betraying her. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m trying to talk shit about her, when we’re both in the same influencer circles.”

Harucchi tilted his head, and when Eijun didn't continue on after several seconds, he prompted, “There’s more.”

So much for the dumb jock stereotype.

“If I write it, then I feel like I’m giving up on her. On us ever being something together, again.” He crossed his arms onto the table, elbows shoving the dishes and laptop uncomfortably close to the edge of the small table, and laid his head on his forearms. He closed his eyes, and said quietly into his chest, “I still love her, Harucchi.”

“I know, Eijun-kun.” A warm hand squeezed his elbow. Between their silence, the monstrous table of college students packed up and left, and suddenly the shop settled into a calm Eijun needed.

He poked his head up from the comfort of his arms to stare at Harucchi. He was steadily sipping his coffee, one hand resting on Eijun’s elbow. His pink hair had pulled out of the bun at his nape and fell into windswept wisps framing his face and neck. He’d long since stopped wearing Ryou-san’s hand-me-downs in favor of softer, luxe sweaters and slacks, the only true expense he indulged in despite his lucrative status as a rising star for the Swallows.

Altogether, he looked gentle, dangerously so. On the diamond or off, it was easy to be lulled into a sense of security right before he whacked an unpleasant truth out of the park.

Harucchi pulled his hand back and apologized with a glance. Eijun wasn’t sure why…until he started speaking. “You make a living off of posting about your life—and romance, in particular. You’ve never hidden your past relationship troubles from your followers, however difficult it was to express. It’s part of your brand at this point.”

Eijun’s mouth twisted as he sat up. “Wakana isn’t a branding tool.”

“No one is saying that,” Harucchi said patiently. “What I am saying: you underestimate how much of your own work goes into your success. Aotsuki was certainly helpful—but your personality and your words are why people stay. People trust you.

“You’re good at what you do, Eijun-kun. You’re honest and kind in your observations, to yourself, to your partners, to strangers, despite how difficult and personal love is. When the time comes, whatever you post about Aotsuki will be the same.” Harucchi shrugged. “Also, I’ll edit out anything that makes you sound insensitive.”

Eijun let out a heavy sigh, stretching his arms into the air and shaking off the melancholy. “Thanks for not letting me fall on my own sword.”

“What are friends for?”

For all that he felt better, though, Eijun was still stuck staring at a blinking cursor at the end of a line of drivel. “That still doesn’t solve my problem. I don’t have a clue what to post next. The schedule I followed is trash now without personal updates of me and Wakana. I haven’t been able to binge any of the manga or shows I wanted to review, either. All I got left is the advice column, but if I keep that up with nothing else, I might as well change the blog name to Dear Eijun instead of Ace of Hearts.”

Harucchi stared at him, calculating out something as he took in Sawamura’s restlessness. “You don’t have to keep writing about romance.”

“That’s what I started the blog for.”

“But that’s not why you started writing and recording back at Seidou. You’ve had success with your baseball analysis and tutorials on YouTube and Instagram. You could even say you’ve been neglecting them to chase after romance.”

Eijun groaned, loud and theatrical enough to make the meek businessman behind him jump in shock. “Maybe if I got as much engagement talking about how stupid the idea of celebrity athletes are when it’s a team sport—”

“See?” he cut in, tilting his cup toward Eijun. “You already have a topic to post about.”

“Baseball is my hobby, not my job,” he said mulishly, jaw jutting out. “My dad wrecked his love of music that way! I’m not gonna risk hating baseball after he spent my whole life yelling at me not to ‘monetize my interests’ while holding me in a headlock. That’s asking for the biggest lecture of my life!”

“You can always stop if it’s not the direction you want to go. You’re not getting married to the idea.”

“Don’t bring up marriage, I just got dumped!”

Harucchi pressed his lips together in a thin line. “Fine, don’t think of it as a marriage,” he said. From Harucchi, the sliver of impatience he let free was the equivalent of hauling Eijun by the collar and shaking him down. “Flirt with baseball. Go on a few dates. Get a benefit or two out of it. Does the metaphor suffice now?”

Eijun gasped. “Harucchi! You’re too innocent for that sort of talk!”

“My brother is Kominato Ryousuke, and my best friend writes a blog about romance and sex that I edit,” he said, even as his quiet voice went squeaky and his face mottled bright red from embarrassment.

“Maybe I should change my blog to save you the embarrassment.”

“I also admit I have a request of you,” Harucchi said sheepishly, pressing a hand to his cheek. “The Swallows want me to get more heavily involved in PR this offseason, and I could use your help figuring out what I’d actually like to do instead of going along with every idea they propose. I’ve seen what they make the other players do, and I’m not interested in doing the exact type of promo they’ve done the past few seasons.”

Eijun crossed his arms and leaned back, chin tilting up defensively. “If you’re trying to convince me by pretending you need help—”

Harucchi shook his head, bangs bouncing across his forehead. “I hope you’ll find value or inspiration in it, too, but I was going to ask, regardless.” He grimaced into his cup. “The players who carry most of the strain of Swallows marketing are…otherwise occupied this offseason. I was volunteered to step in; management’s been wanting me to raise my profile for a while. I can’t really say no, so I may as well make the most of it.”

“I don’t want a pity job.”

“Please, be reasonable.” Harucchi smiled the shy, dreamy, polished smile the Swallows had been trying to splash across their advertising since he joined the team. “It’s a pity favor.”

Eijun snorted, relaxing into his chair again. “Fine,” he said, pulling open a clean document on his laptop. “Let’s brainstorm.”

#daiya no ace #daiya no a #misawa #daiya no ace fanfic #lolo's fic writing tag

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katsukis-sad-angel · 4 years

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FatSquadCanons; During and right after the Chisaki arc

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x Reader, Eijirou Kirishima x Reader, & Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Summary: The Fat Gum squad and their girlfriends/wives/fiancees during and right after the Chisaki Arc in My Hero academia

Warnings: Sex talk, slight angst, mentions of intercourse, cock-warming, swearing, cuteness

Author’s Note: That gif below brought back the sun, cured my depression, got rid of my anxiety, cured the coronavirus, and made Jesus rise from the cross and beat the shit out of Pontious Pilate

Enjoy!

Taishiro Toyomitsu

Mostly SFW

Misses you

A LOT

You’re so pretty and happy and you give the best hugs and have the sweetest voice so being deprived of those things for so long…

But he had to focus

They had to save Eri, so he couldn’t have your elegant features staining the cloth of his mind right now

You, on the other hand, try and cope with your worry, lust, and sadness by rolling up in his spare hero hoodies and his big black shirts because they’re warm and they smell just like him

You miss the way he held you in his arms as though you were made of porcelain, the way he kissed your lips like it was the last time, his big, warm, soft stomach you could sink into, the twisty blonde hair you loved combing your fingers through, his big smile, his huge hands, his hugs, his lips, his dick, and his laugh

That chuckle...

It would be the death of you

You just wanted to be back in his arms… or in his lap…

Or under him while he fucked your brains out

Pick one

He hasn’t been home in 2 whole week

So your touch starved as fuck, hungry for dick, lonely, sad, and worried

You’ve been eating dinner alone and the news has been on nonstop

So when he comes home with bandages all over his scraggly, skinny yet buff body, you immediately start bawling your eyes out

You’re so happy he’s safe and alive

He holds out one of his arms to you and you stumble from your chair and collapse into his arms

“Tai! Oh, my god!”

He picks you up and carries you to the couch like the goddess you are and lays down with you, kissing your cheeks, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he missed you until your stormy sobs have calmed to the occasional violent hiccup

“Honey bear, it’s ok. I’m here now. Don’t cry sweetheart…”

I want him to call me ‘honey bear’

The two of you lay there for the rest of the day

You get up occasionally to get your man food and to take a piss, but that’s about it

Refuses to let go of your waist even though his stomach sounds like a possessed garbage disposal

“Don’t worry about me Y/n, I’m fine. Just stay here, ok?”

You rest your head on his chest to listen to the beat of his heart

Nice pecs pillow

Forehead kisses, ear nibbles, ass and thigh grabs, hand kisses, etc

He’s all over you

He thinks you such a beautiful goddamn queen through the bright red tearstains and the evidence of emotional eating that had gathered on your hips

He tells you that, just the part about your cute and squishy hips

You end up falling asleep like that under a pile of blankets

NSFW

The very next day, as soon as you’re up, you start riding him like a horse

“That’s it babygirl, be a nice little cowgirl for me. Just like that~”

“Did you miss my cock while I was gone?” He’ll whisper in your ear, sucking on one of your piercings

“Yes, fuck yes I did Tai!”

Holds your bouncing hips with the one hand that works, kisses you, sucks tiddy, and makes sure you get off at least twice before he does

When he’s done, you collapse on his chest, panting

For a couple of hours, you lay there cock warming him because he asked you to

Then his stomach started up again and you got off and fed him everything in the house while naked because he asked you too

The end

Because you asked me too

Tamaki Amajiki

SFW

…

Poor sweet elf boi

Doesn’t really know how to cope

Spends a lot of time locked in his room

You notice he’s eating less

When he allows you to come into his room, he’s always wearing one of the hoodies you let him have

On those nights, there isn’t a lot of talking, but there is a lot of cuddling

He rests his head either on your chest or your stomach, wraps his muscley arms around your waist and holds you close

Whispers ‘I love you y/n.’ every so often

You’re really worried about him

His pretty black eyes are dull, he slouches more, Mirio can’t cheer him up, you can’t cheer him up, his indigo floof droops a little, dark bags under his eyes, stutters a lot more → talks even less than before, he looks sad, and is jumpy

He’s been really distant too

Staring off into the distance, completely zoned out and lost in his thoughts

24/7

So one day when he comes back from patrol with that spunky redhead and Fatgum, you go to his room and knock

No answer

You knock again

Still no answer

You fumble with the doorknob, but it’s locked

Using your quirk, you manage to get it open

“Tama, why is your-”

“Tamaki?”

Tamaki Amajiki was rolled up in several blankets, making him look like an adorable burrito

He was struggling to escape his warm cocoon, squeaking softly as he attempted to get his arms out

He blushed as soon as you saw him and then tried to hide his face in embarrassment, but you didn’t let him sink too far

You smiled indulgently and helped him unroll

“Tamaki, if you were cold then- Wait… are those my socks?”

“Yes.” He mumbled, hiding his face in your shoulder

You giggled

“Don’t be embarrassed Tama! If you want my clothes, just ask!”

You wrap your arms around him and pull him down so you’re laying comfortably in his bed together

“How are you doing?” You coo, stroking his soft indigo locks

“Awful.” He mumbled, burying his face in your chest

“I’m sorry to hear that…” You reply, tracing the indent on the back of his neck, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. But I’m not allowed.”

“Oh. That’s ok. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but just try not to think about it. I know it’s hard and you’re under a lot of pressure, but tonight, just think about me. Or takoyaki. Or Nejire and Mirio.”

“You smell good.” He whispered bashfully, “New perfume?”

“Mm-hm! You like it?”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

You smiled sweetly, letting his soft voice (I love you Aaron Dismuke) play its melody over and over again in your brain

You were so lucky

You kissed his forehead and whispered, “If you need someone to talk to, I’m right here Tamaki. Ok?”

He nodded sleepily, eyelids drooping from lack of sleep

“I love you bunny.”

“Sweet dreams.” You sigh, relaxing in his safe embrace

NSFW

Don’t get me wrong, Tamaki is one of the sweetest, kindest, most adorable yet hot guys EVER, but he isn’t some fucking pushover

He’s domming your sorry ass in bed, whether you like it or not

He’s got tentacles

TENTACLES

GOOD HENTAI ANIME = TENTACLES

And he fucking knows how to use them to make you scream

He also has a cow hoof you can stretch yourself on

What happens if he eats noodles?

But that’s beside the point

Tentacles

With those, he can tease you, tie you up, make you cum, squirt, serve as a second dick for ur arse, put them in your mouth, etc etc etc

Anything you can imagine

Picture this: Tamaki is fucking your from behind, buried to the hilt in your cunt. Two tentacles trapping your arms against your back, one in your ass, one in your mouth, and one massaging your throbbing clit

You’re overstimulated, moaning, and crying from the pleasure, pain, and overwhelming arousal

“Do you like my tentacles Bunny? Does it feel good?”

“So wet for me… such a pretty Bunny when I fuck you like this.”

“More? Greedy bunnies get punished~”

Loves it when you’re all needy, hot, and bothered underneath him, begging for just a simple touch

It makes him feel really strong and happy

Knows it feels good because you make the most erotic faces

Nuts almost immediately when you do → tongue lolling out, eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent scream, and cheeks flushed

Aftercare?

You won’t even remember the accidental scratch you got from the lobster claw

Sore pussy and/or ass?

Hickeys?

Dry throat?

Hungry?

Anything marring the beautiful expanse of skin before him?

Gone

He’ll massage you, give you a bath, food, water, endless kisses, hums to you softly, bandage you up (if need be) and tuck you in

He NEVER wants to lose you to someone else, so he makes ABSOLUTELY sure, you’re 100% feeling loved at the end

He loves you so much

Never forget that

Eijirou Kirishima

Mostly SFW

Baby boy…

He has been very distant since this whole thing started

No more study and cuddle sessions (where you normally end up fucking)

Fewer hugs and kisses

No big girl fun time in bed

Not as many baby shark doot doo doo doo doo smiles

*author drowns in utter despair*

All you have are the clothes you steal from his closet every now and then

(every time you’re in his room) cough

So while boi is being a distant and depressing fuck, you bundle up in all 11 of his Crimson Riot hoodies (some of them are used as pants) and think about him

His garnet irises, his adorable sharp-toothed smile, his killer upper body, his soft red hair, his voice (thank you Justin Cook), his hands, his dick, his manliness, the tiny scar above his eyebrow, and his sharp jawline

Perfection

Kiri, on the other hand, wonders why you’re spending so much time in your room all alone and why fuck cuddle nights stopped

Right when he needed all of the love and support, it stopped

Were you mad at him?

Did he do something to upset or offend you?

Did he say something rude or insensitive without thinking about it?

Did you get tired of him?

Did you want to break up?

Had Bakugou finally stolen your heart from him?

He couldn’t tell

You looked to upset all the time, giving him distant looks, suddenly running to your room with your eyes full of… shit, were those tears?

No, not eyes full of shit

Eyes full of tears

Come on guys

He ran after you, but by the time he got to your hallway, you were already locked in your room

He knocked on the door

“Who… Who is it?” You whimpered in a choked voice

“Uh, Eiji… your boyfriend…” He said softly, running a hand through his softened locks, “Can I come in?”

“I…” You pause, “I guess. Gimme a minute.”

Shuffling sounds

*nose-blowing*

Then the door opened to reveal a slouching you in one of his hoodies

You had a used tissue scrunched in your fist

“Babe, are you ok? You’ve been acting really weird lately and I’m worried!” Said the pure ginger shark

“E-Ever s-since you s-started that work-study, you’ve been r-really d-distant so I thought you might’ve f-found someone else. Either that or you j-just needed t-time alone.” You whimpered, holding back tears for what seemed like the billionth time that day

“Baby girl, no one could ever replace you!”

Sharky pulls you into a hug

“I’m sorry you thought that Y/n. I’ve just been really zoned out because I’m trying to balance school, work-study, and our relationship all at once. I really need those study nights honey, I’m begging you. You explain stuff so simply and your notes are really descriptive. I love you so much and I don’t like it when you’re sad, because then I’m sad and then everyone is sad.”

“Eiji… I’m sorry, don’t blame all this on your self. I’m just being a whiny bitch.”

“Don’t say that!!”

“But I-”

You were cut off by a kiss

Eijirou cupped your flushed cheek tenderly with one hand, and with the other, he held the small of your back so you were flush up against him

“Eijirou…”

That night, you fall asleep on his chest, but Kiri can’t sleep

His phone on your nightstand flashes and he carefully picks it up, turning down the brightness so as not to disturb you

Apparently, it’s time

Carefully, he slips out of bed to join Midoriya, Ochaco, and Tsuyu downstairs

NSFW

When all of that is over and Kirishima is in your arms safe and sound again, he gets down on you before you even pull out your flashcards

Presses you back into the carpet and starts sucking your face

“Eiji? Wha-”

“Sssh.”

Clothes start flying everywhere except away from you and your horny boyfriend, who has moved onto your neck and jawline, kissing and nipping along your collarbones and mandible

You thread your shaking fingers through his pretty red hair

“So wet for me already?”

“Mmmh, you smell so good…” Eijirou moaned, sucking your puffy clit, his hands clamped on your hips to prevent you from bucking or squirming

“M-More… please, more! I need more Eiji~”

“Did you miss me, or just my cock?”

“Both- fuuuuck~ Eijirou oh my gOd~”

“You like that sweetie? Huh? Tell me how much you like it~”

…

*coughs*

You can hardly walk the next day

But don’t worry

Kiri will treat you like a queen and carry you around until you fall off or feel better

No studying happened unless you count Eiji learning to make you squirt

Otherwise, no

Neither of you did anything productive

But you did have a fun, sensual evening with the person you loved most

Nighteye Squad hc’s coming soon!

406 notes · View notes

pinkhairedlily · 3 years

Text

goodbye to the clearest eyes

pair: kim namjoon/park jimin | minjoon, rating: G

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33675553

dropping a minjoon fic here as well (because why not)! :>

Namjoon glances at his phone for the seventeenth time that night, the digital clock blinking back 23:14 at him, and his screen flashing low battery warning since the 20 percent mark. He waits again for ten more minutes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the muted sound of the club on the street across and the passing honks of ubers. A ping stirs him up.

Disappointed but not surprised. He knows he set himself up for this.

“Joon hi. Hope you thought better - like before. I actually got a ride. Lucky huh. So anyway, please don’t mind my earlier texts. See you later.” Ironically, his phone thinks it’s the most opportune time to shut down, zero percent, no more warning. He softly thumps his head on the steering wheel, but his fingers are tightly gripping around it.

“I should stop this.” This is the same sentence he repeats for every conquest Jin conjures up every Friday of the week. He sighs, enraged but tired, and he starts the ignition.

Then his passenger side opens and comes in an angel.

“Excuse me?”

It’s Namjoon’s first expression. Blonde hair, lopsided smile that reaches his eyes, plump and pouty lips, flushed cheeks, and fair skin. He waves to his friends goodbye and reaches for the seatbelt.

He misses it and he chuckles. He tries again and almost gets it. Again, another hearty chuckle.

“You’re hammered,” Namjoon says. “But this is not an uber.”

The blonde man fits the seatbelt in successfully in his third try. He looks up at Namjoon, and he is disarmed by bright hazelnut irises which disappear in a wide smile. “Look I managed to wear my seatbelt.” His fingers, dainty fingers, meet each other to give himself a small, silent clap.

Namjoon’s heart is thumping. What is this is a new modus of a local gang? Using an angel-faced to lure innocents into their deaths? He clears his throat and tries to capture the blonde’s attention. “I would appreciate it if you get out of my car right now.”

Yeah, especially since I just got my license at 30 years old. Because Jin had his car towed.

The blonde is heaving and Namjoon knows what comes next. He opens the windows and gets ready to give him a paper bag stashed in his glove compartment. It’s actually reserved for Jin, waiting for its purpose for several weeks now, but at least a single piece gets to see the light for tonight.

The passenger waves away his offer of a vomit bag. He just lets his head loll on the side, eyes shut, smile still plastered on his cherubic face. Namjoon rakes his raven locks with his hand, and he decides then to fuck it. He’s in the neighborhood, he has an available car. He will do one kind deed today and bring this angel safely to his home.

But yeah fuck me too because my phone’s basically on coma and I’m geographically challenged. No choice then. “Hey you, I’m sorry but I don’t have the maps on. I can’t drive you.”

The blonde tries to sit up straight with his eyes still closed. “Can you first drive around? I don’t want to go home yet.”

This is a red flag, Namjoon knows. Far too many dreadful things have been happening nowadays and everyone is hardly to be trusted even when they have the most beautiful countenance he has ever seen. But he had too many losses this year, too many times he held out chances for someone who won’t return them back, too many hopes for beginnings but he got indefinite endings instead. Yeah, fuck it.

“Can you move away from the window so I can close it?” Namjoon asks.

“Can you leave my side open? I want to feel the cold air against my face,” the man replies. Now that Namjoon’s looking at him intently, he notices he must be in his early 20s, not more than 25 probably.

He stuffs the paper bag on his passenger’s dainty fingers (which thankfully he holds onto because dry cleaning would be a bitch) and drives towards the road he frequents when he gets stood up.

“It’s kinda cold.” His blonde locks are swaying with the wind.

Namjoon chuckles and checks his monitor. “Well it’s the transition between fall and winter. Do you want me to close it now?”

“No, not really. I love the cold. It makes my cheeks redder. It makes me aware of the blood in my body.”

“I like this season too although I’m not a fan of snowing. I’d rather walk than drive a car when it’s winter.” Namjoon steals a glance. “Looks like you really enjoyed tonight. Flushed and rosy cheeks are also good signs of life. Would you believe it’s a criteria males would look for in females they want for marriage and reproduction? Of course, this was back when patriarchy was still 100 percent practiced.”

Namjoon takes a right turn amid the dense canopy of hickory trees and into the tunnel. Now would be the most advantageous time for his passenger to kill him.

“Yes, I enjoyed tonight,” the blonde remarks. His hazelnut eyes are now open and trained on the road. “My friends and colleagues organized a farewell party.”

“Changing jobs?” Namjoon breathes slowly, waiting for the blonde to pull out a gun or knife.

“Nope, not really. I’m going away.”

Nothing comes for Namjoon’s life, and he feels the bubble of laughter in his throat. “Another city or abroad?”

His hazelnut eyes roll to the ceiling, and he ponders for a whole minute. “Yeah, abroad. That’s what I told them.”

The tunnel is empty, but Namjoon keeps a safe driving speed on the rightmost lane. Occasionally, a sports car would speed past them, the tires screeching with the echoes. He wonders if he should keep up the conversation, but gauging the other person’s responses, it seems like they don’t mind. “Oh that must be fun. I also went abroad after university, straight to Belgium. It felt freeing that time, but I realized just recently that I was probably running away.”

There he goes again, spilling his guts to a stranger at midnight in the middle of a tunnel. Namjoon’s mind now wonders if this blonde isn’t afraid of him. He’s bigger than this passenger, more muscular, and definitely taller. He can easily subdue him and drop him in the ocean.

“It’s somewhere I have to go to,” he replies. “I’ve never been to Belgium. Chocolates must be good there.”

“The roads are very bike friendly, if you’re curious.” Namjoon remembers the awe when he first set foot in Brussels. No annoying car honks, no bulky vehicles on the streets. Just people biking, in tune with nature, giving way to each other, the tiny bells ringing.

“Ah I also never learned how to bike. How disappointing.”

“It’s a nice skill to have, keeps you active, and obviously it decreases your carbon footprint.”

His passenger laughs like it’s a trill of a nightingale. “You have such a weird thought process!”

Namjoon’s voice wavers, part embarrassed, part socially anxious. He’s never good in dealing with extroverts. “Is it bad?”

The blonde shakes his head. “I’m saying it’s unique. Anyway, I won’t worry much about my carbon footprint.”

Namjoon clucks his tongue against his mouth. “You must be a mindful consumer.”

“Hmm, I’m not really sure. I guess I am?” His little pinky finger rests on the side of his lip. “But it gives me comfort that I’m alleviating Mother Earth’s illness somehow.”

They leave the tunnel and the smell of salt air arrests both of their senses. Namjoon opens the window on his side as well and breathes in the ocean. He normally frequents this area during sunsets, a few minutes when twilight sets in before it finally transitions to the night sky. His existence hovers in between those changes, all beautiful and all passing. It dawns on him that he took a plunge when he decided to drive here at this time. “Do you mind some music?”

“No, go ahead!”

Namjoon opens his radio, and the first notes of 400 Lux drifts from the speakers. The blonde lets an arm out on touches the air on the skin of his fingers. Namjoon notices this and mirrors him. The ocean greets them after a few seconds, quiet in its vastness despite the rhythmic buoy of the waves and the sound they make when they crash against the sandy shore.

“I’d like to visit many more places,” his companion continues. “Like Jeju Island. My grandmother plants the sweetest tangerines, and my ex-boyfriend would often come help out during harvest season. But I broke up with him just recently and cut off all ties.”

“Sorry about the ex-boyfriend,” Namjoon interjects. “He must be missing the tangerines a lot.”

“Let’s hope that’s the only thing he’ll be missing. By the time he’d miss me, he must have moved on already.”

The road comes a bit closer to the waters, and the wind drifts over some of the sea spray to them as the waves break against the side of the cliffs. “And here you are, sounding like you already miss him.”

“I won’t deny it.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I found that it’s healthy to acknowledge your feelings than keep them all repressed so I’m honoring our bond by honoring the grief.”

“Sounds like good advice.” The guilt creeps up on Namjoon, but he ignores this for a moment. Maybe he can take this bit, store it, and use it in the future. It’s good advice anyway.

“I also want to visit Disneyland. I’ve never been to one. Couldn’t afford it. But I hate roller coasters and pirate ships, anything that has to do with heights. Although, if given the chance, I would try all of them at once even if I vomit after.”

“The lines are freakishly long.”

“How much do you think would it cost if I rent the whole place for a day?”

Namjoon laughs. “Pretty sure it would have at least six zeroes.”

“Oh I thought it would have seven.” They both break into guffaws. After a few seconds, the blonde continues his musing. “I would also love to visit my parents and see them again every day.”

“Can’t you do it now?”

The man stretched his arms in front of him and wiggles in his chair. “I’ll actually drop by tomorrow, spend some time before I truly go.”

Namjoon slowly turns on a blind curve, weighing the last sentence in his mind. “I moved out when I was 18 into the university dorms, and then I got my own apartment after graduation. Most of us go through that linear phase, don’t you think – growing out of our childhood homes and leaving the ‘youth’ behind.”

“You don’t even look like 30 yet.”

“I’m flattered. And you don’t look like you’re over 20s.”

“I get that a lot.” The blonde chuckles, not bothering to hide another set of blush on his cheeks. Under the dim light of the moon, Namjoon briefly notices the redness in his ears.

“But wouldn’t it be nice to come back to it, to that safe bubble when life becomes too overwhelming?” Somehow, Namjoon also feels a hot flush on his skin despite the icy air that has set in their atmosphere.

“We both know there’s no bubble anymore when we go back.”

“I guess it will take you a long time to come back.”

The passenger nods, his hazelnut eyes leaving the road to focus on the ocean. “A very, very, very long time. I may not see them again after I go.”

He must be moving for good, Namjoon thinks. Or he’s cutting off ties. Like I did so many years ago.

“Hey, can we stop over for water? I’m thirsty.”

Namjoon spots the 24/7 convenience store on the side of the road. He remembers this is a junction close to a fishing port hence the all-around operations. He parks on the empty lot and waits for the blonde to finish buying his needs. He comes back with four bottles of water and two bowls of already cooked instant ramen. “Would you like to eat by the shore?”

Sure why not in the middle of almost-winter? Namjoon follows him nonetheless, even sitting on the damp sand cross legged with ramen in between his hands. They slurp the noodles in silence punctuated by the crashing waves and occasional noise of the seagulls and the horn of incoming fishing fleets. They do not talk, too engrossed with the hot food and spicy broth.

Finally finished, they combine their garbage in what was supposed to be the passenger’s vomit bag. Namjoon initially walks to the direction of his car, but the passenger decides to walk along the shore for the minute, barefoot, his black leather mules secured in his other hand.

“Would you look at that? It’s finally used,” Namjoon jokingly remarks about the vomit bag.

The blonde chuckles at his lame attempt to lighten the mood. Namjoon finally notices the muted loss in his startlingly beautiful hazelnut eyes, and the layers of sadness covered up by his songbird laughter, but he knows it’s not his place to ask.

“Have you ever thought about death?” The way he asked it was so blunt, so deadpan, so out of the blue, and so far removed from his lively persona that Namjoon interacted with in the vehicle.

It catches him off guard, of course. He never really delved into it, not when he was too busy running away from his feelings for his college best friend, not when he came back and tried to rekindle that friendship and connection again, not when he was too busy wondering if it was already too late.

He was too busy facing the consequences of his life. “In passing, maybe.”

The blonde walks further into the water, the waves reaching to his knees. “What do you think happens after?”

“I personally don’t believe in afterlife or in God or in heaven.” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, aware that his being agnostic would sometimes earn an agitated reaction from people. “It just ends. You become food for the detritus, a fertilizer for the plants.”

“Lessening the carbon footprint?” the blonde brings it up again, and this earns a hearty chuckle from Namjoon.

“We could put it like that. You contribute to nutrient cycling.”

“That’s a nice way of describing rotten flesh being eaten by worms.” He turns towards the expanse of the ocean with his eyes closed and that constant smile that seems to hold him together throughout this night. “I….visualize dying as a new birth, a chance of being someone again, a reincarnation. Even if I live as a butterfly with gray wings, a disowned black cat because of superstition, a whale with an alien frequency, a deer hunted in the open season, I’ll welcome it because it gives me another day, another life. It gives me another chance to feel the cold air on my face, the hot flush on my nose and ears, the water between my toes. Another chance to meet people, another chance to fall in love and break and fall all over again, another chance to live.”

The whole monologue untethers Namjoon. It is as if the sand underneath him started shifting.

The blonde turns his attention on the sky, stars invisible behind the fluffy clouds which signal incoming rain. As he silently watches them move across the space, Namjoon follows the change in his expression, the surrender of the smile, and the explosion of dullness in his irises.

“I have a tumor in my brain. Cancer has progressed too far and too deep to consider chemotherapy. Doctor gave me three months at most.”

Namjoon feels like he needs the vomit bag more. He’s tongue tied and numb all over. He feels cold all over, but he doesn’t know if he should blame the season. All the sounds are drowned by a ringing in his head, and he barely hears the blonde come up to him and tap his shoulder with his smile back again.

“I want to go home now. Thank you for driving me tonight.”

---

Now in the safe enclave of his apartment with a fully charged phone, Namjoon composes a long message intended for Jin, his apologies running all the way back since college. An apology for not responding to his confession, an apology for running away, an apology for coming back and expecting everything is the same.

And an ultimatum of a definite conclusion – whether he can let him in or cut him off from his life – because he has spent a long time living in between.

The breakdown comes after he hits send, choking sobs hitched in his throat. A mourning for a blonde stranger.

---

“Have a taste of this.” A grandmother in her 90s offers a peeled tangerine to Namjoon.

He bites through the piece of fruit and the sweetness hits him in full. He relishes the burst of flavor in his mouth with his eyes closed albeit it’s actually a ruse to keep the flood of tears at bay. You were right, they’re the sweetest tangerines. “I think I’ll order a hundred kilos.”

“That’s too much, my son.” The old woman laughs and playfully slaps him on the arm. “So how did you find your orchard tour a while ago?”

“I can’t help but hear a songbird in the area. Must be coming from the nearby forest.”

“Ah, it started singing last year. Since then, we’ve always had a year-round harvest. He must be my lucky charm.”

#bts fic #bts fanfic #minjoon #minimoni #namjoon x jimin

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noona-clock · 4 years

Text

The Bartender - Part 2

Genre: Bartender!AU

Pairing: Jinhwan x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,036

For some reason, you thought Jay’s would look different now that it was dark outside. You’d only ever seen it in the daylight and when it was closed, so didn’t it make sense that it would seem like an entirely different place when it was almost nighttime and crowded with people?

But, alas, as soon as you walked through the door with Emma, you knew exactly where you were. You knew that you could close your eyes and be able to find your way back to the kitchen with no problem whatsoever. You knew exactly where the bathrooms were, where the back door leading out to the trash cans was, and where the three air conditioning vents were.

But tonight was not about work! You shook your head a little bit to rid yourself of health inspection thoughts, and then Emma looped her arm through yours to lead you over to the bar.

You tried to avoid looking anywhere near behind the bar for as long as you possibly could, wanting to prolong finding out if Jinhwan was actually working tonight -- and if he was, if he was working behind the bar. Most likely not because he was the owner. He should be back in some office on the other side of the kitchen working on finances or contacting suppliers or --

“Y/N!”

Ah, okay. No. There he was. Behind the bar.

And, after making eye contact with you, his face lit up. He had the biggest, sweetest, most genuine smile on his face. If you were being truthful with yourself, it made your heart flutter.

“Jinhwan,” you greeted shortly, nodding at him.

“You finally decided to visit!” His gaze shifted to Emma standing next to you, and he lifted his eyebrows. “And you brought a friend.”

As soon as you and Emma slid onto two empty bar stools, you gestured to your friend. “This is Emma. Emma, this is Jinhwan, the owner.”

“Oh, first name basis,” Emma smirked as Jinhwan reached out to shake her hand in greeting. “Interesting.”

“We’ve known each other for two years now, and this is the first time she’s come to my bar. Can you believe that?” Jinhwan asked her.

You pursed your lips (though you found you were trying not to smirk with amusement) and interjected. “Okay, that’s not an accurate representation.”

“Does she always talk like that?” Jinhwan inquired, leaning on the bar closer to Emma. “So... professional?”

Before you could retort that no, you did not always talk so professionally, Emma answered with, “Oh, yeah. All the time.”

“Wha --!” you stammered, nudging Emma’s arm with your elbow. “I do not!”

Emma completely ignored you, though, and continued on. “You should have heard her when she broke up with her college girlfriend. She came to me and said ‘We have ended our relationship.’”

You felt your cheeks start to burn, but instead of teasing you... Jinhwan turned to gaze at you fondly. His eyes were warm and inviting -- as was his smile -- and, if you can believe it, he reached out and tapped your nose.

“You are even cuter than I thought.”

Your brow furrowed immediately. “Please don’t touch me.”

Jinhwan straightened up and murmured an apology before grabbing a menu and setting it down in front of you and Emma. “First drink is on me,” he proclaimed.

“Ooh, thanks!” Emma grinned before eagerly perusing the menu.

“I’ll have a cider,” you told him without even looking; you just knew what you liked, so there was really no use pretending like you were deciding on something when you already knew what you wanted.

Jinhwan smirked and let out a breathless chuckle. “So, you can decide so quickly what you want to drink, but you still can’t decide if you’ll go out with me?”

You heard Emma gasp softly, and she said, “You’ve asked her out?!”

“Many times,” he shrugged. “She’s never said ‘yes,’ but she’s never said ‘no’ so I keep trying.”

“Because I’m working!” you pointed out defensively. “Even more than that, I’m inspecting your bar. I can hardly accept an offer of a date while I’m giving you a health inspection score.”

Jinhwan’s face lit up as he reached underneath the bar and produced a bottle of cider. “Accept? So, you will go out with me?”

You waited as he pried off the bottle cap and slid your cider over to you before answering him... but all you did in response to his question was raise your eyebrows and take a drink.

“If she’s not saying ‘no,’ then you’re good,” Emma translated as she closed the menu. “Old-fashioned, please.”

“Coming right up.”

When Jinhwan turned around to start making Emma’s drink, she nudged your arm with her elbow just as you had done to her a couple of minutes ago.

“Excuse me!” she hissed. “Give me the deets! What is going on?!”

“Nothing! I’m the health inspector for this place -- like I told you -- and he does nothing but flirt with me the whole time I’m here. That’s it!”

“That’s it? That’s not it -- do you like him?!”

“I’ve spoken with him, like, four times before tonight,” you pointed out with pursed lips.

Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “...So? You can totally like a guy without ever talking to him.”

Why did both Emma and Jinhwan have the same views on liking someone else? They seemed to be very cavalier with their feelings!

“Well, I prefer to actually know a person!”

“And that’s why you’ve been single for so long! If you see someone attractive, you just gotta go for it! Give it a shot! You never know what could happen!” Emma urged.

“If you’re just going to nag me about being single all night, please admit it now so I can just go home,” you requested with a very unamused tone.

An expression which was a mix of annoyance and shame flashed on Emma’s face, and she held up one hand in defeat. “All right, I’m done.”

“One Old-fashioned,” Jinhwan interrupted, setting down a glass in front of Emma. And then he looked up and gestured toward one corner of the bar. “There’s an empty booth back there if you guys want to sit.”

“Thank you very much,” you accepted, taking your bottle and standing up. You knew if you and Emma sat at the bar with Jinhwan in such close proximity, your friend would break her unspoken promise to stop badgering you about him.

But there was something you had completely forgotten.

When you had a certain amount of alcohol in your system, you had a tendency to get... we’ll just say emotional.

In your everyday life, you were a pretty deep thinker; after a drink or two, you let those thoughts come to the surface. Emma had become your friend-therapist quite often during your university days, and after about an hour at Jay’s, she was quickly becoming one again.

And what else were you going to talk about other than Jinhwan?

“Of course, I think he’s cute,” you acknowledged with a frown. “But how am I supposed to go out with him? He’s a client.”

“You put in a request to not be his health inspector anymore!” Emma replied, her brow furrowed deeply. “That’s how you’re supposed to go out with him! Y/N, come on! He said he’s been asking you out for years, and you’ve been interested this whole time?!”

“Yes!” you cried, though there was definitely a whine hidden in your voice, as well.

Emma let out a deep sigh before downing the rest of her drink. She shook her head and muttered. “You are hopeless.”

“I know,” you lamented, crossing your arms over the tabletop and resting your chin on top of your hands.

“Do you want another drink?”

“No, I’ve had enough.”

“True. Once you start whining, I know you’ve hit your limit.”

You shot Emma a pointed look as she started to scoot out from the booth.

“I have to pee, I’ll be right back.”

You simply sighed in response, letting your head loll over to the side so your cheek was pressed against your arm.

Not even five seconds after Emma left, someone came to your table to clear away the empty glass and bottle.

“Another round?” you heard Jinhwan’s familiar voice ask.

Immediately, you sat up straight, though your head started spinning from the sudden rush of blood.

“No,” you answered, briefly closing your eyes. “No, thanks.”

Much to your surprise, Jinhwan took your empty drinks without another word and headed back to the bar.

...Why were you disappointed that he hadn’t stayed? Or that he hadn’t tried to flirt with you or ask you out again?

Okay, you definitely knew you’d had enough to drink. When you actually admitted to yourself that you wanted Jinhwan to flirt with you, there was quite enough alcohol in your body.

So, it was probably a good thing Jinhwan hadn’t --

All of a sudden, he slid into the booth across from you, taking Emma’s recently vacated seat.

And you remembered just how attractive his face was.

“You okay?” he asked with a slightly wrinkled forehead. Wrinkled and adorable. “You seem down.”

“Down?” you repeated. “No, no -- I just -- drinking makes me more emotional. I’m not, like, drunk or anything, though. I’m just a lightweight.”

Jinhwan smirked, letting out a soft laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“And I’m not surprised that you’re not surprised.”

He laughed again, this time with a bit more vigor.

“No, I’m fine,” you assured him again, waving a hand through the air. “Thank you for checking on me, though. That was really nice of you. Really sweet.”

Jinhwan looked surprised by your words, but his expression barely registered in your mind as you reached out and put a hand over his, grasping his fingers in yours.

“Thank you, really. I don’t know what you see in me, but I’m really, really flattered that someone as good-looking and thoughtful as you would like me,” you said.

Jinhwan put his other hand over yours, squeezing it as a soft grin pulled at his lips. “...You think I’m good-looking?”

“Of course, I do,” you answered immediately. “I’ve just only ever seen you at work, and I absolutely cannot -- I could never make plans for a date while I’m on the job.”

His soft grin lifted up on one side to form a smirk you’d become all too familiar with over the last two years. “You’re not on the job now,” he stated.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest. “...No,” you breathed with a small shake of your head. “I’m not.”

He squeezed your hands again and then asked, “So... would you like to go out with me?”

“Yes,” you answered before you could second guess yourself and before you could remember that it was a bad idea to go on a date with a client.

Just as it had when you’d walked in earlier, Jinhwan’s face lit up. But then his gaze flitted upward above your head, and he suddenly began to scoot out from the booth, letting your hand slip from his.

“Oh, no, don’t let me interrupt,” Emma’s voice said from behind you.

“You’re good,” Jinhwan assured her. “We were just --”

Your eyes had been following Jinhwan as he’d slid out of the seat, stood next to the table, and gestured for Emma to take her place again. You could see his lips moving, but you had no idea what he was saying -- did it even matter what he was saying, though?

Because, for some reason, there was an urge building up inside of you as you stared at him. An urge that was quickly becoming so overwhelming, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back. An urge you knew was only coming to the surface because of the alcohol -- but that was neither here nor there. Not right now.

You had the unmistakable, unbearable, unavoidable urge to kiss Kim Jinhwan.

So, you stood up and did it. You reached up, took his face in your hands, and you desperately pressed your lips to his.

Part 3

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bang-to-the-tan · 4 years

Text

Stray Cat Strut

Chapter 4

Reader x OT7

► Faerie!AU

Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: Mention of Death, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Faerie Mischievous Bullshit

↳ Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…

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You make sure your garden gate is latched properly, and put Taehyung gingerly on the ground, despite the way he snuffles and whines at you when you do so. If you’re going to hire that gardener then you don’t really need to do much with it after all…Just have to think of a way to pay his wages. ‘Make his time up to him’, he said. You scrunch your nose, deciding to focus on other matters first. He did say he’d give you a day to make up your mind, so you might as well shelve it for now. You could go back inside the house to get some less than appetizing travelling snack foods plus the junk food you purchased when you went up to the store last or you could always go back to the store and buy some ready-made sandwiches from there? At least that way you don’t have to explain the ingredients to Jin if he asks. Right on the packaging. It’s perhaps not the most elegant of meals, but something about Jin tells you he won’t mind too much. You head for the store, already feeling lighter at the prospect of seeing the keepers again.

The peal of the bell when you push the door inwards and step in is so cheery, so light and melodic, it automatically brings a smile to your face. The shop is small, barely larger than some gas stations you’ve seen. The outside is ringed with produce—local, judging by the handmade signs and cheap prices, the strong smell of freshly picked fruits and vegetables. The inside is sparsely, cheerfully, decorated but remarkably tidy. The half-length windows at the walls let in so much sunlight that the industrial lights ahead aren’t even on and yet the entire space is bright and inviting. None of the shelves are higher than your shoulder, so it’s possible to view the entire store from the get-go.

“Hello,” the elderly man at the register greets, wrinkled face brightening at your entrance. He straightens a little where he’d been leaning against the faded blue counter, chatting with the woman at the end. “Back again, eh?”

“Yes, back again,” you laugh shyly, “I’m just—oh! I’m sorry!” At the brush of fur against your ankle, you start, bending to gather Taehyung again and edging awkwardly back through the door, tucking him under one arm. Instead of struggling, he merely huffs a pleased sigh, relaxing his entire body in your grip. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t allow pets.”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine!” the older lady by the counter insists quickly, shuffling forward in worn slippers to gesture you into the store. “We don’t discriminate against customers. Not this close to Spirit Lights.” She winks at you and reaches to pet Taehyung.

“He, um—“ you begin to shy away, petrified that your little terror is going to bite this lovely old lady, but instead he leans gladly into her touch, tail wagging, tongue lolling. “Oh.”

“You and your handsome escort,” she says, completely serious, almost with respect. “Are more than welcome in our humble shop.” You stifle a chuckle at that.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Perfectly alright.” She reassures you, firm.

You shift him in your arms, unsure if letting him loose is really something you should be doing, but one stern look from her has you persuaded.

“This close to spirit lights?” You repeat, curious, letting Taehyung down gently. Contrary to your fears, he sits down obediently by your feet and merely sniffs and casts mild looks about the place.

“The kids around here call it Sprite Night,” the man pipes up helpfully. The woman scoffs.

“That is not its name, and you won’t catch me repeating it. It’s disrespectful.”

“Nobody believes in the old superstitions anymore, Eunju.”

“I believe the old superstitions, Sungmin, and I say it is disrespectful.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” you say.

“Never?” the woman echoes, peering at you with surprise.

“She was very young when she was here last, she said,” the man adds, shaking his head in sympathy, throwing you a labored roll of his eyes when the woman’s back is turned. “Can’t expect such a traveled young lady to remember all the old, odd, hang-ups from each and every small village between here and the coast.”

“Not every village has Spirit Lights,” the woman insists, suddenly spinning on her heel with a fortitude shocking for her age and trudging underneath a heavy blanket hung over the doorway to the back of the store, still grumbling in concern as she goes. The grey hairs peeking beneath her bandana wave in the air with the waddling motion. “It’s dangerous. Especially for people who don’t know any better.”

“Please excuse my wife.” The man leans conspiratorially across the counter, flashing a mock fearful look to where she had disappeared. “She just worries, you know.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you return with a soft giggle. “I don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing that this poor girl was in danger of being spirited away, just like that.” The wife continues, volume rising as she returns. She throws the blanket hiding the back room aside as though vaguely annoyed with it and toddles closer. She’s now bearing a small, handcrafted bag in her arms that she cradles like a child.

“Shame on you, Sungmin,” she adds, slapping his arm with a frown. He recoils dramatically, closing his eyes, mouth open in a mock cry of pain. “My hearing hasn’t gotten any worse yet, you know. Apologize for me, will you?”

“What?” He leans forward, cupping his ear. He retreats, laughing, when she hits him again.

“Excuse my husband,” she says tersely, ignoring the childish face he pulls at her back. “He’s an idiot.”

She straightens to her full height, still a full head shorter than you, and begins to explain.

“Spirit Lights is a festival we hold here. It’s in four days. There will be food and drink, stalls, produce, music—the children love it. But you have to make sure you’re home before dark. Once the sun starts setting, everyone lights candles and sets them outside, to show the spirits the way through the town, so that they don’t get lost on their way to the other side. You cannot, cannot, be outside during the nighttime on Spirit Lights. Otherwise, they will take you with them as they go. Even if you see ones that you recognize, don’t follow them. It’s the one night that their contracts break, you see, so even ones that you’re familiar with could turn on you.”

Taehyung sneezes loudly and shifts to sit closer to you, nearly ontop of your foot. The woman eyes him cautiously, almost warning, but reaches into the bag.

“Now, if you absolutely must go outside during that time, you’ll need this.” She retrieves her hand gently from the bag and produces a white mask. It’s half-sized, only the top half of a cat or maybe fox face, with small pointed ears on the top and narrow eye holes. It’s intricately painted with blue and yellow markings down the forehead and up the cheeks—obviously well-crafted, hand-made, and much older than it looks. “A mask will hide you just fine—you will be no more than a ghost to them.” She pushes it back into the bag, gathering the ribbons threaded through the sides gently into the opening. When it’s all safely inside, she pulls out a small carving. It’s stone, and when she straightens her arm towards you, you copy the motion to take it from her. It’s shockingly heavy in your palm, cool, and smooth. An expertly carved tiger, mouth bared in a snarl, stepping down from its craggy perch.

“If you place this at any doorway, they won’t be able to cross the threshold—private property or no.” she says, adamant. “They can be persuasive if you let them, but they won’t be able to worm their way out of obeying a stone predator.”

“I see,” you reply. You aren’t going to remember all this, but it doesn’t escape you how serious she’s being. She probably actually thinks she’s protecting you against spirits. And considering the things you’ve been experiencing lately…you’re almost convinced yourself. You hold it back out to her, but she shakes her head, holding the bag out at arm’s length.

“Take them,” she encourages. “No charge.”

You balk, flush travelling up your face. “I—I mean, I can’t—“

“You’ll have to give the mask back after Spirit Lights is over, as it’s an heirloom,” she interrupts your stammering with a disapproving hum. “And as for the tiger...” She rolls her eyes with an exasperated chuff through shaking lips, her frame sagging in exhaustion.

Her husband pipes back up from where he’s resumed leaning onto the counter, chin in his palm. He looks half ready to fall asleep in the warm sunshine streaming in from outside. “Please, please take the tiger.” He chuckles, eyes still shut.

“My mother carves them,” she adds in a defeated tone.

You reach out for the bag, accepting it gingerly with a grateful nod. You make sure to slide the tiger back inside with a gentle hand, so that it doesn’t break or jostle the mask too hard.

“We can’t get rid of the damn things.”

“She means well,” the woman sniffs. “She does.”

“She’s convinced that being protected from the spirits means she’ll live forever.”

“Well, it’s worked so far, hasn’t it, Sungmin? I don’t see you trying to extend your life, what with all the sweets I watch you eat.”

“Bah!” he makes a dismissive gesture, eyes sparkling when he grins at you. “I will die the way I lived.”

“With your belly full and your mind empty, I expect!”

“Just like that!”

You laugh at their banter, slipping the strap of the bag over your shoulder and making sure it’s secure. Sweets. Oh! Right. While you’re here, you might as well try what the librarian suggested.

“Do you sell sweets?” You ask.

“Of course!”

Miss Eunju shows you around the shop, helping you pick out a bag of candies (You don’t mention what they’re for, but she insists the larger bag is better quality for money, anyway) as well as a few sandwiches of varying flavors. Taehyung, the entire time, is happy enough to plod along with you, and never so much as gives more than a wayward sniff at the food items at his level. Impressed, you throw in a few dog treats at the checkout. Mr. Sungmin beams at you as he tallies it all up, and though neither of you says anything, you notice he rounds your total down.

You can’t stop thanking them for their kindness and they continue to wave it off, shaking their heads.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Mr. Sungmin insists gently, laughing with a dry wheeze. “Just make sure you come back. If Eunju doesn’t see you after Spirit Lights, she’ll worry.”

“He won’t,” Miss Eunju scoffs. “He’ll take a nap and forget you were ever in here, the silly old man.”

“Your silly old man.” Sungmin leans over and slips her arm under his, patting her wrinkled hand familiarly. She allows it with a roll of her eyes and an exaggerated sigh, but you can see the fondness in the way she leans back against him.

“Thank you again!” You call, opening the door and stepping back through, played out by the bell. Taehyung skips and hops to catch up with you, tongue lolling, tail wagging. You wave at the two shopkeepers through the glass, unable to keep the grin off your face when you spot them waving back. Feeling content, you turn and make your way back down the road. The sun is high in the sky by now, as warm as it’ll get for the day, and yet still not too hot. There’s a breeze that pulls playfully at your hair, caresses your face, smelling like green plants and sunshine.

“When will I have that?” you ask Taehyung conversationally, still smiling. “They’re still so in love, did you see them? So cute.”

He skitters after you, occasionally breaking into a canter when your own pace quickens in thought. He’s no less cheerful looking than you feel, if seemingly focused on your ankles with laser-precision. You slow down to allow him the chance to match your strides. The trees ahead cast gold-tinged, dappled light everywhere, sheltering you and turning the air cool.

“You were so good in there,” you add to your companion. “So well-behaved. I really thought you were going to attack them like you almost did with Hoseok.”

Hoseok. Your mouth quirks, now distracted. What are you going to do with his contract? Even with as little as you’ve bought just now, you certainly don’t have enough left in your budget for a professional gardener. But, to be fair, he didn’t say how much he wanted. ‘Make it worth his time’ was all he said. Not at least trying to retain him isn’t an option. You can’t imagine the kind of damage he could inflict on granny’s precious garden.

“…Do you think he likes sandwiches?” you ask wryly after a moment of listening to the leaves rustling, the distant sound of birdsong, the gravel and dirt crunching beneath your feet. “Or…maybe candy? Can I pay a gardener with candy?” The thought is entirely ridiculous, but there’s a chance it could work. You could halve it between Hoseok and the kepry apparently living underneath your porch—two birds, one stone. It might be worth a try. He might think it funny enough to laugh off and not get majorly offended. You don’t need him to continue its maintenance, even, really. You’re more than willing to put in the work yourself. You’d just prefer he didn’t snap the heads off all the roses and pull out all the lavender to begin with.

You’re still pondering the ramifications of proposing you pay off a professional with sweets when your thoughts are momentarily interrupted by a rustling noise just behind you. A shuffling, a skid, and then silence again. Probably just some small animal, going about its day. You don’t pay too much mind to it except that Taehyung is noticeably put on edge, ears twitching backwards, snapping his tongue back into his mouth with a doggie equivalent of a grim expression. You blink at him as you continue to walk, bemused by his sudden change in attitude.

“Taehyung?”

He huffs, frustrated, turning into almost a growl. His businesslike trot turns intent, his head intermittently swiveling to look behind the two of you.

“Is there—“ Another rustle, closer. You crane your head, peering at a bush to the side of the walkway that’s shifting suspiciously. “…Something wrong?”

Taehyung growls louder this time, weaving between your legs towards the bushes, and you almost step on him, tripping over your own feet trying to avoid planting your shoe on his small back or treading on his little paws.

“Oh, leave it alone, come on,” you complain.

He doesn’t heed you, instead baring his teeth in a snarl, planting his feet and standing his ground. His hackles raise, giving him even more fluff than usual and succeeding in somehow making him look even more absurd.

“Taehyung!” you chastise with a sigh. And just after praising him for being well behaved, too. Somebody isn’t getting his doggie treats, that’s for sure.

There’s another rustle, and this time you can see a dark shape darting forwards, shaded by the underbrush. Taehyung lunges and a silky brown foot intercepts his nose instantly, kicking him backwards with a yelp before the shadow breaks into a run, barreling out of the hedge with a hurried gait, ducking and weaving as Taehyung throws himself wholly into pursuit, now barking in a frenzy, the two of them streaking past you and continuing further down the trail. It’s that rabbit, the one you saw in the forest by the house, you’re sure of it. Sleek as ever, and faster, even, than Taehyung’s paws can keep up with, hauling down the dirt path at impressive speeds, sending small rocks and dirt scattering.

You stare in shock, so busy watching them racing along, when you realize they’re nearing the mouth of the trail, which opens into the road.

“W-wait!” you call, as if they can understand, picking up your feet to jog after the two animals, suddenly panicked at the thought of harm coming to either of them.

The rabbit keeps its pace, but Taehyung slows as he reaches the end of the path, skidding to a halt just before the asphalt, still barking his foolish little head off. The rabbit throws a look back, spinning ‘round, and as you come up by the small dog, you realize with shock that there’s a car coming in this direction. It isn’t moving that fast, but the driver won’t be able to see anything so small from this close. The rabbit doesn’t move, instead going completely stiff where it’s stopped, crouched, and stares at the car’s approach. Without thinking, you’re stepping onto the road, ignoring the way Taehyung immediately bursts into desperate screaming, reaching for the rabbit, who only sits, frozen in place, eyes wide and focused on the fender of the vehicle. You reach forward, gathering it in your arms, careful not to let either the shopping bag or the cloth bag touch the ground, hefting the sizeable bunny up and carrying it to the other side of the road just as the car shudders to a halt.

You spin, still holding the creature, looking to the driver. You’re a little in shock—did you really just do that…? The driver blinks at you in surprise, but understands what you’ve done when he looks to the animal in your arms. He nods, once, in gratitude, and you slowly return it, watching him continue to inch down the road with care. The minute the car has passed, Taehyung is zipping back up to your side, barking and trying to leap upwards, snapping at air just below where you’ve got the rabbit cradled. You look down at it. It looks up at you, nose twitching spasmodically, body completely still. It’s even silkier to touch than it looks, soft as Taehyung if not softer, heavy and hot—both from running and from warming itself in the sun. A waft of vanilla drifts past as the two of you lock gazes and you wonder absently if someone’s been bathing it in the stuff.

“That was close,” you say breathlessly. “You need to be more careful, little guy.” It blinks up at you. A beat passes, its nose twitching before it stops entirely. Slowly, hesitant, as though expecting you to bat it away, it raises one smooth paw. You’re almost afraid that it’s going to claw at your face (do rabbits do that?...) but instead, its paw lands at your chest, just over where you’ve hidden away the cat’s totem under your shirt. Its eyes widen. Taehyung pauses and begins barking anew, in a higher volume. The rabbit suddenly jerks, kicking upwards. In your shock, you allow it to leap up out of your arms, using your shoulder and elbow as purchase to jump off, lunging for the undergrowth on the side of the road. Taehyung darts forward, and you dart after him, but just as he snaps at the air just behind the rabbit’s foot as it disappears into the greenery, so does your hand clasp nothing as he runs—their chase, restarted with vigor.

“T-Taehyung!” you shout as he charges into the leaves, still baying in a high pitch as they crash noisily through the thickets. You pause, considering going after them, but even now as you’re considering, the sound of Taehyung’s barking is becoming faint. You’d never catch up, and you’re more than likely to become lost again anyways instead. Frowning at the trees, now slowly regaining their silence with quiet rustling, though you can still hear the yapping at a distance, you decide you’ll leave it. He isn’t really your dog, in any case, you remind yourself with a disbelieving scoff. You don’t know why he’s so insistent on hanging out with you. Protecting you from gardeners and rabbits. The devils. He’ll know this village better than you ever will. You’re certain he won’t get lost or hurt.

You shift the bags more comfortably on your shoulders and turn, heading down the path that will take you back to the intersection. As you go, you pass by the bus stop, and your mind drifts to the cat you saw on the first night. The totem hanging around your neck. The way that rabbit touched it was almost reverent, if rabbits were capable of feeling reverence.

It’s also why the others keep coming to you. They’re drawn to it.

Is it possible that the rabbit is one of them? A kepry, a spirit? What kind of ancient spirit stops in front of a moving car?... You scoff to yourself. Not a very bright one.

Maybe Taehyung is one, too, then, if the standards are so low.

That makes you giggle to yourself as you walk, looking both ways before crossing onto the side of the street that leads to Jin’s pond. You could always ask him, you reason with yourself in a spark of inspiration. Even if you see the ones you recognize, the lady had said. If the storekeepers knew about spirits, and if he’s lived here for a while, then maybe Jin will recognize some, too. If only you could show him the rabbit…You’re reminded of the librarian, warning against traps, but you agree with him too quickly. You wouldn’t want to hurt the little guy anyway…Ah, wait! Didn’t you take a photograph when you first saw him? That would be just perfect!

Suddenly excited, you dig into your pocket as you dip underneath the cover of trees again, passing the worn signpost. You retrieve your phone, inwardly rolling your eyes at the low battery percentage, and flick through to your photos. It’s the last photo you’ve taken, so it doesn’t take long to find it. You tap on the thumbnail, pulling it up. It’s definitely the same rabbit, big and shiny, peering at you from underneath the leaves, eyes wide. It’s a little blurry but it’s not a bad picture, altogether. Jin should be able to at least tell what it is…Wait. You squint closer, brow furrowing. There’s a smudge in the upper corner. Maybe you got your finger in the frame by accident or something.

You stop in your tracks. A chill races down your spine, ice-cold and reaching, turning the quiet of the trees around you into a deafening, suffocating silence. It’s not a finger. They’re shoes. Red sneakers, white socks, muscular calves. You’re frozen in place. You lift the phone closer, holding it almost at your nose as you pinch and swipe at the screen, trying to shift it this way and that, trying to understand. You wrack your scrambled brains for an explanation, squinting hard. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? But even as blurry as some of it is, it’s unmistakable now that you’ve recognized it. Two legs, socks, shoes. There’s someone standing in the corner of this photograph, just behind where the rabbit is hiding.

Was there someone there yesterday? You’re certain there wasn’t. You’re positive there wasn’t.

“You came back.”

Jin’s voice snaps you out of your confusion, and you look up to see him standing in front of you, a gentle smile pulling at his pink lips.

“Uh,” you blink hard, switching the phone off deftly and sliding it back into your pocket, trying to return his pleased expression. You’ll revisit that mystery later. Best not to mention it to Jin until you’re certain you aren’t crazy—seeing things, or not seeing things. “Yeah. Y-yeah, uh, and I brought snacks, too! Just in case.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He nods, glancing off to the side and pulling air through his teeth. His eyes meet yours again and widen slightly, his grin growing. You can’t help the rise in your chest at his soft look. You’re glad you haven’t disappointed him, haven’t somehow been made late to your agreement. “Are you ready to clean the pond, then?”

“Definitely!”

“Not gonna go back on your word?” He teases.

You huff, crossing your arms, planting your feet in a playful show, already feeling lighter, more determined. “Never.”

He nods approvingly and turns, waving his hand in the down the dirt road, cocking his head. “Then let’s get started, while the day’s young.”

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#stray cat strut #bts fanfic #bts faerie au #bts fluff #bts x reader #*eyebrow waggling intensifies*#this chap was a lil exposition heavy but i hope u dont mind #(hey hoeuseok happy early bday i hope you like iiittttttt <3)

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chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years

Text

Jamais Vu

A remedy, a melody A memory that only I will have If we stop here Would it be better to just turn everything off?

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: supernatural, romance, comedy, angst, fluff

word count: 13.5k

related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!Jimin

Continuation of Second Act: Temperance

A/N: IT’S HERE!! AHHHHHH TT-TT This chapter, we’re finally heading to the concert! :O what other sorts of things can possibly happen here...? 👀 👀 LOLL As always, thank you so much for all of you guy’s patience and the endless love and support i’ve been getting through your asks! I really truly appreciate you all for sticking it out for this story!! 💖💖💖🥺🥺🥺 As always, I hope you enjoy!

Tag: @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatinagirl @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger

“Hey Y/N, we’re here.” A hushed voice along with a gentle nudge stirs you from your half-slumbering stupor. Blinking, you sluggish look around, mind beginning to catch you up on where you are and what’s happening as you hear the car doors open. It takes a minute but you eventually get your butt into gear, taking off your seatbelt and exiting the car as well to round to the back where your friend, Rosa, and the Uber driver were unloading your luggages.

You hastily make to grab yours, the last of it and place it onto the four wheels before pulling up the handle.

“Thank you so much for the drive.” Rosa thanks the driver, a fairly elderly man who’s been nothing but sweet and accommodating to the both of you despite it being nearly the ass crack of dawn.

“It’s not a problem. You two have fun on your trip; take care and be careful okay? There’s been too many horrible stories about young women traveling alone lately.” He says it kindly, almost like a grandfather to their granddaughters and even though you’re so tired, you can’t help but to smile in return.

“We will sir. You take care driving out there too.”

He nods before waving you two off as you and your friend shuffle onto the island. When he pulls away from the curb, you hear your friend take a deep breath in before exhaling. Turning to her, you catch her eyes and she grins at you, white teeth peeking out past the tops of the neck pillow she has on.

“It’s really happening.” She says, a little breathless — nervous yet excited.

You nod, her giddiness, although self-contained (you had a feeling it was because it’s so early and she’s mindful to the people who aren’t as awake yet i.e. you), is still contagious, the smile on your own lips stretching a bit wider.

You both head on inside, rolling your luggages along until you come upon the many self-checkin kiosks placed in the large terminal. The process was thankfully made easy with no need to send anything off; the trip was short and thus, Rosa and you have settled on just having one carry-on case and a crossbody handbag (or in Rosa’s case, backpack) each. With that done in no time, the next thing on the list was finding your correct gate, go through security and then finding the nearest Starbucks to ingest as much coffee as your body will allow you to.

Contrary to Jimin’s advice on getting as much rest as you can, you felt like you hardly got any sleep at all. Your restlessness was caused by many things — nerves from flying out for the first time with a friend, navigating your way through a city you’ve never been to until now, the excitement of not missing out on seeing a BTS concert when you were so sure you wouldn’t be going, it all felt so surreal to you, even as you’re strolling through the airport amongst many other people who bustle along with you, either arriving from a flight or off to catch one like yourselves.

But rising above everything, like a tumultuous wave ready to crash down on you, was your guardian demon. It should be no surprise really as it seems he’s constantly occupying your thoughts nowadays, a permanent resident and not paying rent though you think this time around, you can forgive it. The worry you have for him had remained firmly in the back of your mind, festering and growing until it too, joined in with the other thoughts keeping you tossing and turning that night.

Jimin told you that he would be meet you at the gate in spite of just coming out of a two-day coma from a near death experience; something that you can’t process at all. Even though he’s reassured you that he would heal in time, the very thought of the slight chance he could be putting up a front didn’t sit well with you, made worse that it’s more likely than not. Before you know it, the anxiety is eating at you and already, you’ve caught yourself doing double-takes for the fifth time, mistaking someone else for him. It’s embarrassingly made you prone to spacing out, so much that an officer at one point had to nudge you along because you were holding up the line during the screening process.

Thankfully, you make it through without further incident (though your cheeks are red and you kinda want to curl up in a corner somewhere but that would probably get you sent to an interrogating room under suspicious behaviour).

“Oh hey, I see our gate.” Rosa’s voice breaks through your thoughts, forcing you to take in the overhanging sign indicating that and the fairly empty seating area. Beyond the large windows overlooking the runway, the sky is still dark, the barest soft orange hues peeking through along the horizon. You’re about an hour and a half early for your flight, glad that the ample time you’ve given yourself arriving to the airport was used well because you weren’t in a panicked rush in finding your gate and risk missing your flight. Furthermore, you now have the leisure to do the next thing on your list — finding some food and caffeine.

“I think most of the cafes and other eating places are just a little further down that way.” Rosa comments, stretching her neck to peer down the long pathway before turning back to you. “Do you want to stay here and I’ll go grab us something or…?”

You smile, shaking your head. “No I’ll come with. I think I need to keep moving around to stay awake at this point.”

You choose to leave out the fact that you’re also feeling a little too fidgety, your anxiety not allowing you to stay put.

So the both of you wander further down the terminal, taking advantage of the moving walkways when they come and eventually come across the duty free stores, some luxury brand boutiques, and of course, the cafes and eateries. There’s a decent amount of foot traffic here despite the early hours, though you suppose you shouldn’t really be surprised — the airport only ever gets busier so to some, this might be considered ‘quiet’.

“Which place? Starbucks, A&W’s… I see Second Cup too. Is that a Mcdonald’s?” Rosa lists out loud before audibly gasping at the prospect of seeing the faint traces of the trademark ‘M’. You squint your eyes too, trying to make out if it was indeed your potential elixir of life and can’t help the snort that escapes you.

“It’s a McCafe, which is close enough so let’s go.”

Rosa giggles, falling into step beside you as you both make your way over. Fifteen minutes later, you’ve got a muffin and a medium ice coffee in hand. The shock of the cold drink in your system has you feeling more alert but the effect doesn’t last long nor does the caffeine (you swear it’s actually making you sleepier). You walk around for a while longer, looking at things you can’t afford and nibbling on your chocolate muffin before you lose your appetite halfway eating through the top half. Stuffing the remaining into your crossbody, you continue to follow after Rosa, your conversations kept light by the underlying buzz for your upcoming travels and yet you feel like you’re not all really there yourself.

“Hey, Y/N….Y/N?”

“O-Oh! Yeah sorry?” Your gaze snaps back to Rosa, unaware that you had become lost in watching people pass by the shop you and Rosa were in.

Your friend chuckles, giving you a wry smile. “You were spacing out hard fam. I think you need to take a nap.”

“Hey, have pity on me. I am not a fully functioning human-being any time before 12PM, at most.” You reply defensively in half truth. In the end, it’s decided that you should both head back to your gate to wait out the rest of your time there. The seating area has become fuller when you arrive, at least in terms of an early flight which thankfully means you still have no trouble in finding a place by an outlet to hunker down until your boarding time an hour later.

You practically sink into your seat, the exhaustion encompassing you like the flannel blanket you should’ve brought along with you just as a yawn threatens to tear your mouth open.

“Oh my God, we need to board soon before I just pass out right here and miss the flight entirely.” You say around it, stretching your arms before you cross them to get comfortable.

“For real, but luckily you have me to haul your ass onto the plane. It shouldn’t be too long now…” Your friend remarks, taking the seat beside you. She peers out at the runway, the sun already rising and daybreak beginning to light the sky an azure blue but even that isn’t enough to pull you from teetering over the edge of sleep again. You fall into companionable silence, Rosa occupying herself with her phone while you begin to drift in and out of a haze, a confusing seesaw between staying awake and drifting off. You don’t notice how the time pass as when you’re nudged gently on the side, you find your friend grinning at you like a Cheshire Cat.

“We’re twenty minutes from boarding fam! Watch my stuff for a second while I go use the washroom? I don’t want to have to go while we’re 5000ft off the ground.”

Your astounded expression pulls a laugh from her, no doubt picking up on your lack of time awareness but nonetheless, you smile with a nod, voicing your own desire to probably do the same after she’s back so please hurry, the ice coffee needs to be drained from your bladder too. She takes off in a brisk walk, beelining straight to the overhanging sign indicating the facility and make to stretch out your arms and crack your stiff joints. Lifting your gaze, you scan the sitting area, noting the few people sitting ahead of you with their heads buried in their phones or other electronic devices, some having taken up the seat facing the large windows, and there are even those looking like they’ve spent the night here as they lay curled up on multiple seats, oblivious to the world around them as they rest.

You wish you could be like that, but you’re plagued with a restlessness you can’t drown out no matter how hard you try. You breathe a heavy sigh, shoulders heaving as you think how even though your flight is a fairly short one, you get the feeling that it’ll be twice as long in your mind and that’s something you’re not looking forward to.

“Maybe I should’ve grabbed a pack of Xanax or something….” You grumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes with your hands.

“I don’t think you’ve got the health insurance to cover that sweetheart.”

You jumpstart in your seat, nearly jostling both yours and Rosa’s carry-on luggage over as you whip your head to the side. Your gaze catches the back of his head, and you wouldn’t have known any better had it not been for the unmistakable smooth lilt of his voice. He’s sitting on the other side of the bench from you, back to back, one seat to your left so when you twist just slightly, you would’ve caught sight of his side profile. To your dismay and surprise though, the lower half of his face is hidden by a black surgical mask, the rest by his black ball cap.

“Ji—!“

“Eyes forward cherub, don’t want to draw attention.”

Your mouth snaps shut, heat warming your cheeks when you realize how much of your elation at seeing him came through your voice. You heed his advice, partly because he’s right but also to hide your struggles in fighting off the wide smile threatening to break out on your face. Plus, this way it feels like you’re suddenly in a spy movie, meeting up with a contact incognito.

“Could’ve sent me a text to let me know you were here…” You say afterwards.

“I could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?”

You scoff quietly, rolling your eyes at his playful gibe but you’re not bothered by it at all. You’re glad Jimin’s here, his presence having some sort of immediate effect on you and your previous uneasiness, which now, has calmed to something manageable, like the invisible shadow following you has disappeared and you no longer have to keep looking over your shoulder to make sure it doesn’t sneak up on you. You finally have breathing room however, there’s still something that lingers persistently.

“So…H-How are you feeling…?” Your question comes out far softer, more hesitant than you had intended and you bite your lip. There’s a drawn pause, one that felt too long for you and makes you all too aware of the heavy pounding of your heart. Unconsciously your fingers begin to tug at the ends of your loose cardigan sleeves, nervous all of a sudden and just when you open your mouth to fill in the void, Jimin replies.

“Do you really have that little trust in me cherub? I’m kinda hurt…”

 “N-No! What I meant was—!”

“Relax I know, I was just pulling your leg.”

A huff of air leaves you, a little on the exasperated side as you’re frozen midway in fully turning to face Jimin, subtly be damned (you think you’d never make for a good spy anyways). You know he’s trying to reassure you and it would’ve worked had you not picked up on the way he downplays the seriousness of the question, deflecting with humour and banter. He’s clearly intent on not worrying you so much but it only serves to do the opposite. It makes you want to turn around to gauge his expression, see for yourself if he’s really okay.

“Hey,”

The call of his voice tears you from your train of thoughts, head naturally turning towards him and you’re a little surprised to see dark obsidian eyes staring back at you. You’re lost in their depths, how they hold you captive in a gentle but firm way and instantly it’s like the whole world melts away and it’s just the two of you. Then, they turn up slightly at the corner in a way where you can already imagine the soft smile he has on beneath the mask, it sends your heart racing once again as you wait with almost bated breath for what he has to say.

“I’m okay, really. I promised I would be didn’t I?”

Your teeth pulls at your bottom lip, eyes darting off for a second before they come back to his. You take him in as much as you can, searching for anything that might give way to his front but it’s either he’s concealed it so well that you can’t tell or maybe perhaps he really is okay like he says. Jimin was already a hard person to read, but with that face mask on, it’s even harder.

You sigh, relinquishing.

“Then…Can you also promise me you won’t push yourself?”

His eyes crinkle a bit more but you’re determined to remain steadfast in your conviction. Jimin sees it as he tilts his head before nodding in agreement.

“Okay, I’ll try not to.”

You shoot him a pointed look, one that makes him chuckle and raise a finger to tap on your nose, so quickly you didn’t get the chance to lean away. You blink, flinching back in a delayed reaction but cheeks warming just the same.

“Will it convince you if I told you I’m not going to teleport there and that I’ll actually be on the flight with you?”

That makes you straighten up, eyebrows shooting into your hairline.

“You are?”

“Well, I figured it’s the best solution to the two problems we have; I don’t have to strain myself like you said and we’ll be in close proximity to each other, enough that in case anything goes wrong, I can step in without any issues.”

You nod, seeing his point and honestly even asking yourself why you hadn’t thought of that before until you furrow your brows, zeroing in on him again.

“Wait, you haven’t been recognized yet have you?”

“Of course not, I got this on for a reason.” He gestures to his face, indicating the face mask and baseball cap but that only makes you cock your head back, chin tucking in with an extremely dubious look scrunching your face. There’s absolutely no way this ‘disguise’ of his worked, in fact, he’s playing right into the ‘obviously-a-K-Pop-idol-leaving-for-a-flight’ airport look. It makes you cast shifty eyes around you suddenly — maybe you should actually turn around and pretend you’re in a spy movie again.

“Jimin that’s hardly a disguise! And you can’t tell me you haven’t taken it off at least once to do airport security checks. Are you using your cloaking spell right now? Don’t tell me you are.” You resort to frantically whispering to him as you sink a little lower in your seat.

“I’m not right now, but I did use a couple of enthralling spells here and there, nothing too taxing though so relax. Just enough that I get by with no incidents.”

You suppose that’s as good as it’s gonna get with an answer so you choose to not pry any further. Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you let out one last sigh.

“Alright… Just stay out of trouble.”

“I should be telling you that.” He chides back, getting up with a stretch. Jimin reaches down to grab his denim jacket and black duffle bag (Louis Vuitton, you’re not surprised at this point anymore) sitting on the seat beside his. Your eyes can’t help doing a full sweep of his figure; fitted black t-shirt tucked into dark wash jeans, held by a belt cinched around his waist. You feel like a troll next to him in your sweats and oversized t-shirt (that you double up as a sleep shirt too, you literally just threw on a bra before you left that morning).

“Where are you seated?” You ask after getting over Jimin’s unfaltering immaculateness (you swear the apocalypse could be happening and he would still be dressed in designer brands).

“Business of course.”

You nearly choke.

“B-Business…?!”

“Ah, I should really try to snag another cocktail at the lounge before we start boarding soon.” He says offhandedly, dark eyes drifting off in thought and then redirects them to you. “I’ll be in touch cherub, even if you might not see me. Still, stick with your friend and don’t have too much fun now you hear?”

He’s striding off with a finger wave salute before you can get another word in, but not like you can you think, absolutely stunned speechless. You don’t even notice your friend making her way back to you, just as the attendant at the front desk to your gate announces pleasantly that you would all be boarding soon and can those with special needs, young children and the elderly begin to line up to board first.

“Hey, what’s up? You look…kinda pissed? More alive but pissed.” Rosa laughs good-naturedly. “Some bastard try to pull a fast one on you?”

You exhale a wheeze because she’s not too far off with that statement so you don’t necessarily deny it, almost ruefully replying, “Yeah…I guess you could say that…”

She lets out another laugh, grabbing your hand to tug you out of your seat when the attendant calls for your section to begin lining up. As you gather your things and begin to make your way, you ironically think that your friend wouldn’t be laughing if she had known she, and by way you, have been robbed first class seats.

Oh well, you think, you can’t be too mad because as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. And besides, you have a lot to be thankful for in that moment and you’re not just talking about the round trip to seeing your favourite band play. So with a little more pep in your step since you first arrived to the airport, you eagerly board the plane.

What you had planned was to use the flight time to catch up on as much rest as you can before landing where you know it’s going to be a whirlwind of hopping from one place to another.

Unfortunately for you, your ice coffee kicks in despite having emptied your bladder only fifteen minutes into the flight. You significantly feel more alert so your attempts at getting comfortable against the window were futile. Even when you shut your eyes, you’re very much still conscious and aware of everything going on around you, especially the loud droning of the plane’s engine. You don’t know how people get used to it, let alone make it as part of their white noise to help them sleep.

What you do know is that it’s not easy as after a few more minutes of shuffling in your seat, you give up on any hopes of getting any decent sleep and instead, settle for just closing your eyes, earphones on with your old iPod touch cycling through BTS albums — might as well drown out the plane engine with some good music.

You zone in and out for the entire four and a half hour, which felt like it went by in a snap because next thing you know, you’re startled by the chime of the PA going off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking, we are about ten minutes away from landing and — …”

You pull off your earphones, winding the cord to tuck your iPod away into your crossbody as you gaze out of the window, watching the clouds drift like oversized cotton candy through the clear blue sky, sun blazing on overhead. You’re glad that it seems like the weather would be perfect for the concert, which means there won’t be any pains in traveling around by foot. Bonus is that sunnier weather always puts you in a better mood.

Rosa seems to share the same sentiment because when you turn over to her, she’s staring out the window too, eyes practically sparkling and way perkier now that she doesn’t have to hold back. She grabs your arm, giving it a squeeze, silently conveying her excitement and you grin back at her, wiggling a bit in your seat as you both eagerly watch the wing of the plane dip, swooping down lower until it breaches the sea of white below and you get your first glimpse of the city.

You land without a hitch, even having some passengers clapping much to your amusement but in general, the lively buzz just adds to the atmosphere. You gather your belongings, double checking to make sure nothing is left behind as you wait to join the queue in the aisle to exit the plane.  “So it’s close to eleven-thirty right now, which gives us a good amount of time before doors open to let us into the stadium. Should we find our hotel to drop off our things and then go find something to eat? Or should we drop off our things, head to the venue and then see if we can find a place to eat near there?” Rosa asks, tapping her phone so that the airplane mode is turned off.

You contemplate, humming before you say, “How hungry are you? Because I don’t really have an appetite right now but if you want to eat after we drop off our things first, we can do that.”

“Oh, I’m pretty good too so we drop off our things, head to the venue, then eat?”

“Yeah, sounds good to me!”

After struggling to get both of your carry-ons down from the compartment without giving yourselves a head injury (luckily your seat neighbours were kind enough to lend you a hand), you and Rosa wheel off out of the plane, down into the ramp. For a split second, you catch yourself glancing back one last time, eyes searching for that familiar shadow but the pace in which the masses move easily sweeps you up, not allowing you to linger for too long less you want to hold up traffic. However, you recall his words, assuring you that even if you might not actually see him, he’ll be close by to still be able to help you out if you need it. So you continue on, exiting out into a terminal in no time thanks to bypassing the need to go to baggage claims, telling yourself that everything’s fine and there’s no reason to fret.

You’re here to see BTS damn it; your faves, your ultimate and you can’t waste this golden opportunity by overthinking on things.

 “Okaaay…” Rosa starts, not unlike a ranger about to take their scouts on a rigorous hike while teaching them survival skills. “Let’s grab an Uber and head on over to the hotel. You have the address right?”

“Oh, yes!” You quickly pull out your own phone, pulling up the text file as Rosa opens the Uber app on her phone. She’s typing the address into the destination bar when you hear someone call out to you.

“Um, excuse me?”

You and Rosa both look up, wide eyed like rabbits caught out in the open and turn to see two other girls staring back at you, no older than you are but what caught your attention immediately was the firefighter red cushion that’s shaped like a heart clutched in one of their arms, only this heart had a funny little face on it — two beady eyes, straight brows and round, yellow plush lips. A familiar face.

Tata.

Your eyes light up, you hear Rosa gasp softly beside you and in an instant, the mood shifts. You’re no longer confused from not recognizing the pair, instead it’s like running into old friends again if the way they smiled back just as widely was anything to go by, a knowing look on their faces.

“Are you..—?”

“ARMY?”

“YES!”

“YES!!”

You barely stop yourself from escalating in volume but your newly formed group had already drawn a couple of judgemental looks in your directions. Cheeks warming yet pleasantly aching from the grin, you wave frantically in an attempt to quiet the excited chattering that has exploded, your initial task forgotten in favour of acquainting yourselves with your new found friends, comrades gathered here for a common purpose and love for one particular group.

Rosa lets out a surprise squeak before falling into more of a hush, a sheepish smile playing on her lips and everyone sort of follows suit, still giggling.

“Oh my God this is so wild!” One of the girls laughs, “Are you guys staying somewhere close by the venue?”

“Yeah, actually we were just about to grab an Uber to head over there.” Rosa replies, flashing her phone with the app still open but address only half completed.

“AirBnb or did you somehow grab a hotel?” The other asks you, adjusting her backpack and making a few keychains jingle. You get a flash of a Cooky enamel chain glinting in the light.

“Yeah we’re staying at this hotel.” You showed them the official website page and she gasps.

“Wow! You’re lucky, that’s so close to the venue! Literally everywhere I go I keep hearing how everywhere is fully booked, even the AirBnbs around the area.”

“Where are you guys staying?” Rosa asks, after she’s copied down the address from you.

“We got an AirBnb that’s a little bit further away from the venue, like a ten minute drive? Not so bad but we’d definitely need to Uber to and back.”

You make a sound of understanding, picking up on the implication that it’ll be more money spent but that’s just what comes with these things. However, an idea comes to you.

“Hey,” You speak up, getting the attention of the party, “We can… split rides for Uber to your place if you want to? I mean, we’re all heading out anyways so we might as well right? I think it’ll be cheaper that way too.”

Rosa nods at your proposal, jumping in to add, “Yeah! Uber has a feature for that, I can definitely set up a second trip.”

The two girls glance at each other in a wordless act of debate, shortly reaching an agreement of sorts when one of them shyly turns back to you and Rosa with a timid smile.

“If you don’t mind? That would be really great actually.”

“Of course not! Save money when you can right?” Rosa says exuberantly, dispelling any remaining doubts to the two as their smiles widen again. So with a few taps, you make the necessary adjustments to your ride and now you’re all heading out to meet your driver in a merry band of four.

During your wait, you finally realize you haven’t made any formal introductions to each other (which, upon bringing it up, causes a round of laughter) but at least now, they know yours and Rosa’s names and you know them as Sam and Megan. Conversation flowed easily between the four of you, quickly getting acquainted with each other and by the time you and Rosa are getting dropped off first at the hotel, you’ve all followed each other on Twitter, Instagram and gotten everyone’s backstory on becoming fans of BTS (and of course, biases and bias wreckers).

“Hey, hey I got this, don’t worry!” Rosa says, trying to bat away Sam who had stepped out of the car as well to help you unload your carry-ons in the trunk. Megan follows suit after placing her Tata cushion and duffle bag in the backseat.

“No! This is the least we can do for sharing the ride!”

“It’s not even that heavy, it’s okay!”

Everyone fusses until it eventually turns into a group effort, even if what Rosa said was true. It makes you all giggle in the end at how silly it is but no one seems to mind.

“Thank you so much for the ride again! We should try to meet up at the venue!” Megan suggests to all of which you nod in agreement.

“Yeah! We’ll be in touch then since we have each other’s handles.” You smile back as Rosa closes the trunk. You go to shuffle onto the sidewalk, ready to see the other two girls off when Sam, wide eyed, suddenly lets out a loud gasp.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” She says quickly, darting into the back seat to grab her backpack to rummage through it, you and Rosa watch on curiously. After a short while, she triumphantly pulls out two baggies and already you see the goodies in them — self-printed photo cards of a member, fan art stickers, post cards, and a handmade purple bracelet. What’s more is that she hands them to you and Rosa, making you and Rosa squeal simultaneously.

“I’m handing these out at the venue and I wouldn’t want to run out before seeing you guys again.”

Immediately, you’re thanking her profusely and after another round of bidding each other later, you and Rosa head inside to the lobby of the hotel. It’s nothing fancy to be of note, but thankfully, it’s not sketchy either. The interior is quite simple yet spacious, the decor all in warm tones that matches the lighting, the accents emphasize on a deep mahogany wood. Off to the side, closest to the windows overlooking out onto the streets, is the lounge, the only area where it’s carpeted while the rest of the hotel is tiled, curtains drawn up and out of the way with an array of long couches and chairs surrounding coffee tables. The flat screen tv hanging on a single panel of wall space that perfectly divides the windows in half is set to a local news channel, displaying the weather and traffic around the city.

You and Rosa roll your carry-on towards the front desk, standing behind a few people ahead of you. It’s actually quite busy with lots of people coming in and out or taking up space in the lounge but all of it doesn’t surprise you because you have a sneaking suspicion as to why. Almost on cue, the group at the front begins to walk away, keycards in hand and bags full of BTS merchandise hanging off or stuck to their travel cases. Rosa nudges you but you’re already nodding with a grin on your face to show that you’ve noticed.

Checking-in was an easy process, what with both you and Rosa only needing one room with two beds to share. So you scurry off to the fifth floor, locating room 517 and as soon as you get the keycard on the door, you fling it open, rushing into the room with a bounce.

“Lemme change my outfit real quick! I feel like a slob and I can’t be looking like this in front of my boys!” You gasp, throwing your case onto the ground to open it.

“Oh shit you’re right. I need to put on liner or something! Can’t show my face like this to Jin.” Rosa says, doing the same with her carry-on case to pull out her little make-up pouch.

You grab your change of clothes, rushing to the bathroom and it felt like you were doing a quick change routine by how fast you managed to switch out everything. Looking in the mirror, you can’t help the grin on your face as you check yourself over. You’re wearing a black t-shirt with BTS’ logo taking up most of the front of the shirt while on the back lists all the members names in white text. It’s an old shirt, unofficial merchandise too but you’ve worn it the previous time you were lucky enough to go to their concert so you feel like it’s only right to bring it out again. After deliberating on a French tuck or a full on tuck, you decide to go with the latter, stuffing the ends into your distressed skinny jeans.

Satisfied, you step out to find Rosa already decked out in her concert gear that includes an RJ shirt over black cargo pants and RJ headband. She’s carefully applying lipgloss in the vanity and it prompts you to grab your own make-up bag until the both of you are crowding around another for the mirror. Once you’re done applying liner, some lip tint and other touch ups, you turn to Rosa.

“‘Kay, I’m good to go!”

She turns to you with a grin, grabbing both of your light sticks that’s set out on the bed, presenting it to you like it’s an Oscar. You can’t help letting out a boisterous laugh but take it from her anyways.

“Let's get it!”

You grab your bag, emptying out the things you wouldn’t need and leaving only your wallet, cellphone, charger bank, and keycard in. Stepping out, you make sure the door locks itself properly before you and Rosa start heading towards the elevators.  “So the venue is like… a ten minute walk from here, do you want to Uber it or walk?” You point out, pulling up Google maps as a reference.

“I’m good for walking because we’ll make it five if we power walk.”

Turns out, she’s right. Apparently Rosa’s enthusiasm sparks to double yours which you’ve completely underestimated because before you know it, you’re walking alongside other concert goers and then you see the first of the banners and then…

“Oh my God…” Rosa whispers beside you, absolutely vibrating but you nod, sharing the same sentiment.

There are banners with each members faces on it hanging from the flagpoles lining the walkway towards the stadium. Around on the grounds, there are canopies of tents selling official concert merchandise, light sticks and a giant wall poster with BTS at the centre, dressed to impress as always, giving the fans the opportunity to take a commemorative photo. It’s like a little marketplace for the fans — there’s so much to look at and so much to take in that it makes your heart pound but along with that, there are lines.

Oh the lines.

You gulp just looking at all the different lines leading to different activities and booths, how they seem to stretch for miles and miles, twisting and curving like one giant serpent. You can’t even begin to imagine how early some people must’ve arrived here in order to be the first twenty in line. Honestly, it makes you sweat a little, but somehow, you’re determined to embrace this madness, swept up by the hype and the fact that you may never get this chance again.

“Okay, what do we do first?” Rosa asks, “I’m really not about to try for that merch line but I really wanna do the photo booth. We didn’t get to do it last time right?”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking too.”

“Okay! Photo booth line!”

So without a second thought, you and Rosa speed on over to the set up, racing to find the back of the line. You find it curving halfway around one of the buildings that was a washroom with vending machines posted out at the front. Once you made it, you and Rosa buckle down and play the hardest game known to any fan — the waiting game.

It wasn’t so bad you think, you and Rosa basically spent time catching up on things you didn’t get to talk about in the early morning, talk about which songs you’re looking forward to see live and even getting interrupted every once in a while by kind fans handing out freebies. Time is lost amongst the shared laughter, swept away in the electrified thrum of other people’s combined energy and you soak it all in, loving the feeling even if your cheeks ache from having smiled and laughed so much. You shuffle and move along with the line, at times, zoning in and out or simply watch what’s going on around you (you think it’s amusing how every time the venue staff would announce a round of items that were sold out, the awaiting crowd would groan or yell in anguish altogether; it resonates with your soul).

Soon, you find yourself within the winding barricade part of the line, thirty people deep and close enough to hear the squeals and squawks people are making when they first enter the photo booth.

“I’m totally gonna be like them when I go in, just completely lose my shit at holographic Jin.” Rosa points out, grinning.

“I’m just so excited to finally do it! It’s just too bad we can’t get any merch but at the same time, I’m pretty much too broke to afford anything.” You reply. Rosa nods solemnly in agreement.

Another half hour later, you’re finally at the front, waiting for your turn and you’re absolutely besides yourself, rocking on your heels to try to restrain from combusting. It’s hard to do because Rosa is bouncing in her spot which makes the monitoring staff giggle. You shy away a little, even though you know they’re probably used to it by now but your embarrassment doesn’t last long when two of the three booths become free and you’re given the go ahead along with Rosa. You’re laughing all the way in from hearing Rosa’s gradually fading scream.

Drawing back the curtains, you enter in the little room, brick red in colour with one ottoman bench fit for two people. On the wall in front is a touch screen with seven squares, each displaying a members face on it and all you have to do now is choose who you want a digital picture with.

Your finger moves as if on its own, right towards —

You stop.

It takes a second for you to realize where they hover, a hair’s breadth from his picture.

Jimin.

No…Not him. Not…

You shake your head, ridding the thought and this odd feeling that overcomes you in that second. You chalk it up as it finally hitting you how all of it seems so bizarre that you’re here to see BTS’ Jimin when all this time you had a literal clone of him manifested as a demon meant to protect you. It’s tripping you out, which is why it takes you a hot minute to get your head in the game, so to speak.

This is BTS’ Jimin — vocalist, dancer, model idol and member of BTS, the biggest boy group in the world right now. Park, nation’s angel/fairy, Jimin.

Totally different.

You repeat the words in your head like a mantra, convincing yourself before breathing in deeply. Then you press the icon, submit yes and watch with a rapidly beating heart as a countdown begins, the screen switching to the live selfie camera and on one, Jimin appears as if entering the booth. Your eyes dart up to the space he should be instinctively but you quickly chastise yourself, drawing back to the screen in front of you as you hear him speak a few lines. Even as a digital hologram he’s breathtaking, soft honey blonde hair swept off his forehead and dressed in a black suit that fits him so well that it’s almost criminal. He strides to sit beside you and you reel a bit, quickly trying to orient yourself on the seat in the screen and his figure, barely catching a few words in Korean that initiated the first photo take.

The countdown begins and you get into position, smiling towards the screen but within those three seconds, you catch sight of yourself and him; the way he leans into you, a soft smile adorning his lips and in that moment, your heart squeezes and you falter as the camera shutter goes off.

You blink, stunned but you can’t stop to process the feeling so you push it back as Jimin prompts for a second photo, this time holding his hand to form half a heart which you’re meant to complete.

This is BTS’ Jimin.

You hastily follow, almost stubbornly so as again, the countdown begins and you force a smile, angling yourself to look half as flattering as Jimin.

This is BTS’ Jimin.

The shutter goes off again, he says a few more sweet words before he walks off screen and you’re left to choose between the two pictures you’d taken to have printed.

You grimace as you scan them over — neither one of them are satisfying to you.

“I think your photo looks cute!” Rosa exclaims, looking over yours before giving you a nudge on the shoulder with a teasing glint in her eyes. “You two look good together.”

You nudge her back, taking the photo from her and stuffing it into your crossbody. “Stop, before some sasaeng overhears.”

Rosa cackles loudly, throwing her head back. “Oh please, a bitch can try to run up on you or me. I will fight.”

That pulls a laugh out of you but somehow, you have no doubts about it. Clicking her phone, Rosa checks for the time and with a glance, you’re shocked to see that you’ve already spent a good three hours around the venue. And a chunk of it was just waiting in a line.

“‘Kay now should be a good time to grab something to eat.”

At the mention of food, your stomach gurgles and churns in response and you’re surprised it’s only then that you feel the ache of not having eaten anything sufficient since six in the morning.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it now. Where should we go?”

Rosa hums, straining to look around as you come to the borders of the stadium grounds. She turns her head from one side of the street to the other and you follow her, spying a few familiar fast food chains by their company colours.

“I think we should grab something that we can take on the go, it’ll be easier in case we spontaneously decide to jump in a line again.”

You snort, not arguing with the idea but the thought of getting into another lineup is…. You’re gonna have to think on that after eating a sandwich or something. Your head cocks a little at that.

“How about a sandwich then? That’s pretty easy to carry around, and filling too.”

Your friend considers the idea and then nods, “Yeah, I can do that.”

It wasn’t hard to find a place that would meet your requirements of a delectable sandwich as the concert venue was situated very closely to the downtown parts of the city. It was only a matter of how far you’re both willing to walk, which is…not very far. You and Rosa both agreed that it would be in your best interests to stick around the venue because on your way to picking a spot, you chance your first look at the one lineup you and Rosa probably dreaded the most, outright feared.

“God is that—?”

“…Yeah….” The words come out short but heavily in a resigned sigh. Like with any other lines you’ve seen so far, this one stretches just as long with the only difference is that you can at least pinpoint exactly how and when it started. You easily spot the makeshift camp ground fans have created, tents of varying colours dotting along in the empty parking lot, peeking out from over the heads of those currently waiting in the queue for GA. Now your stomach churns uneasily for a different reason.

“Let’s hurry and get in before the line gets any longer!”

The both of you rush into action, entering the closest fast food establishment for the sake of not dallying but perhaps you think all in vain because it too was crowded with people, specifically other concert goers. At this point, there’s no escaping the wait anywhere and Rosa seems to realize too as she gives you a wry smile, moving to stand at the end of the formed line with you following suit. Another twenty minutes later, you and Rosa are dashing out, a bag in each hand containing your sandwiches, extra snacks and bottle of water. You’re out of breath when you finally reach the end of the line, ready to sit on the sidewalk and eat. To your pleasant surprise however, you find some familiar faces.

“Oh my God! Sam, Megan!” Rosa exclaims, wide eyed as the girls glance up from their phones respectively, wide smiles appearing on their faces when they see you and your friend. They envelope you in a hug each and you fall into conversations, all centred around what you’ve done so far in the venue, showing the pictures you took and freebies you got. It goes on for a while until you can’t stand it anymore and as politely as you could, informed that you must devour this sandwich now or else you would keel over. The first bite you took was nothing short of heavenly and it’s like a ravenous monster has been awakened because you think you downed it all in ten seconds flat.

Regardless, it does the job of filling your stomach with something so that it doesn’t end up eating itself but you somewhat had the thought before to try and portion it out, knowing you had a bit of a wait to get through before doors officially open. Within that time, you had also finished your bag of chips, sharing amongst the group and drank your fill of water. Hydration has always been the one thing everyone emphasizes the most when going to BTS’ concerts but you still struggle to find that balance between getting enough water and having too much water because who would want to have to go to the washroom in the middle of a concert? Plus, any water you don’t finish before security check you would have to throw away anyways.

You end up holding back on chugging your entire bottle, stopping when you felt like your bladder won’t explode any time soon but that means you’ll have to accept that the rest would be given to the trash.

Finally after some time, you’re startled from your stagnant position when the line ripples to life. You perk hearing the muffled bass of songs you’ve grown to love and know word for word despite the different language. Megan is the first to stand up, all of you at one point resorted to sitting right along the sidewalk edge, tip-toeing to see what the commotion was.

“I think doors are opening! The line looks like it’s moving now!”

The news has an immediate effect, the rest of you springing to your feet just as the people in front of you start shuffling forward. A surge of jitters tingles along your spine as you move along, inching closer and closer to the entrance. Not only does this mean you’ll be finally getting into the arena, but it also means that the concert is well on its way to starting soon. You catch yourself in time from bumping into the person in front of you when the line suddenly stops right on a bend. You think nothing if it until you hear murmurs of a commotion and see people actually leaving from their spots.

“What’s going on?” You ask, concerned.

“I think there’s a confusion between lines?” Sam answers, peering around the many bodies in front of you. You do the same, trying to worm your way through this broken telephone game until you hear someone raising their voice.

“Left side of this line is for GA!! This line is for seats!!”

“Ah shit!” Rosa curses, turning to Sam and Megan. “We gotta bounce then. Enjoy the show girls!”

“Bye!! You too! Now go, go!”

You wave hastily before Rosa is pulling your arm and you both go running to the newly formed line beside the one you were just in. You’ve made quite the jump, even if you are a bit aways still from seeing the front entrance. But it’s almost like it doesn’t matter because the line continues to move and before you know it, the doors are right in front of you.

“As soon as we get through the security gate, we’re booking it.” Rosa says, determined and fired up, even doing little stretches as if she’s getting ready to do a 100m sprint. You don’t argue with her though, chewing on your lower lip at thinking about how many people must already be in the pit, how your chances of getting a good spot is dwindling lower and lower with every people let in. Slowly, you grow more anxious and now you’re antsy to get your ass in ASAP because like hell, you’re going to be stuck with an awful view!

You swear it takes everything in you to remain as calm and collected on the outside as you can once it’s your turn for the security check. You present your crossbody, showing them the inside, dispose of the water bottle in the growing bin, pull up your ticket on your phone for verification and once you’ve given the all-clear—

“Go, go, go, go, go!” You take off, following the herd as your only means to finding the path to the concert pit, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Rosa is behind you (she is with a big goofy smile on her face). You hear the echoes of numerous excited voices bounce off the walls and they increase in volume, easily intermingled with instrumentals and growing clearer, more distinguishable as you approach. When you finally pass through the entryway, you feel your breath hitch.

The crowds are already gathered at the edges of the barricade, singing along to the music video being played on the large screens. Above and all around you, the seats are being filled by more fans, their light sticks twinkling to show their numbers. You rush to join in with everyone, coming to the space furthest left at the head of the stage, just a row or two behind others, brandishing your own light stick to switch on. With the app, you sync it up, right when Rosa joins you.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE WE’RE HERE AHHHH!!” Rosa screams, waving her light stick crazily and falling into the fan chant. You laugh, not caring how loud you might be. You spend the next remaining minutes dancing, singing, and screaming, immersing yourself in the energy all around you. Rosa pulls you in for selfies, taking commemorative videos every once in a while. It helps pass the time and as the final notes of the music video fades out, the lights dim and the screams are louder than ever. All eyes are glued to the intro VCR, your heart’s pumping in your ears as you feel the rush of adrenaline increase. You’re blown away by the visuals and you can’t help but to scream whenever the sight of any of the members appear (and this is all before they’re on stage dear god).

The video fades to black, transitioning into a new track as the spotlights light up one by one to the beat until it swells into a climax as extravagant stage props are revealed and the pyrotechnics are going off. You truly lose all sense of inhibition when from the floor of the stage, seven figures emerge. You don’t know if you’re shaking from the force of your scream, the screams of a thousand people around you reaching a whole new level of pitch and intensity, or from the booming stereos that begin to blast their title track.

They were nothing short of incredible, you’re starstruck at how coordinated they were, all the while maintaining such stable vocals, not to mention look absolutely stunning in their stage outfits — sparkly black suits with varying gold accents that decorate their shoulders or as lapels, giving off very princely vibes. And you’re witnessing all of this with your own two pair of eyes. Never have you ever been this close to them before where you seldom rely on the big screen camera in front of you and you’re having trouble on where your eyes should be, so captivated by their aura and charisma.

So you find yourself screaming names left and right when you’re not shouting the fan chant. The first song comes to an end though it doesn’t mean that the energy doesn’t carry on as after a moment’s pause, the next song starts up, another hit single everyone recognizes and loves. When the lines of the first verse starts, the boys start making their way down the catwalk towards the thrust stage. As they move, so does the audience, all eager to keep their eyes on them no matter what. It’s hard to fight the wave so you can only go with it, forced to shift from your original spot to something a little less than favourable. You’re still too far up the main stage that the only thing you see is their backs and try as you might, half the time a phone is blocking your view.

It’s a struggle but you make do with the large screen and when there’s a song this hype playing, it’d be a crime to not do anything besides dance and cheer at the top of your lungs. And that’s what you love about their concerts; the moment you step into the arena it’s like you’re transported into another world, a place where you can let loose and for once be happy, blessed and thankful.

No more worries, no more what-ifs.

You’re going to seize this moment as if it’s your last.

When the song comes closer to the end, the members gradually make their way back to the main stage, waving to the crowd as they go and you swear Namjoon had returned your wave, dimpled smile on display. You can’t help the squeal that comes from your mouth.

When the last notes end, you finally turn to assess your surroundings, the crowd once more shifted but thankfully you spy Rosa not far from you so you maneuver yourself to her. She greets you ecstatically.

“DID YOU SEE JIN?! HE HAD PURPLE HAIR!! I’M GONNA DIE!!”

 “I KNOW!! AND NAMJOON WAVED AT ME!!”

The two of you fangirl until the VCR is done and the melodies of another song bubbles over the speaker. Once more, the attention of everyone in the arena draws towards the main stage and from there, it starts all over.

You work up a sweat dancing and singing along to the songs, breathless in the best way possible. You were enjoying the concert through and through, the only issue you have was your throat beginning to burn a little more than usual from all your screaming and the sea of people you’re currently swimming in is getting a bit more pushier. But the night was still young and though you’ve been dancing nonstop for four song straight, there was nothing stopping you when the spotlights turn into a warm golden yellow, the ones along the ground turning green and the first notes of possibly your favourite song starts to play.

From the floor, Jimin’s figure rises up, voice as light as a feather filtering through the building and instantly, you’re entranced.

Before, you had been unsure of how you would react to seeing the original Jimin on stage, the apprehension nearly smothering you as you waited but like a spell, as soon you laid eyes on him, singing and dancing so gracefully, so effortlessly, you knew that this was someone else entirely different. Now dressed in a flowing silk shirt embroidered with crystals that twinkle endlessly in the spotlight, he has singlehandedly rendered you speechless as the rest of the thousands watching him. Your eyes were glued to him, heart swelling with emotions as you watch him in his element, nailing each step and note and like caught in a siren’s song, you itch to be closer. Scanning around, you try to find an opening you can squeeze through, anything.

You see a space, big enough for you to stand in and without even thinking twice you surge forward, weaving as best you can before the chance disappears. You bypass two people, grazing their shoulders but shrinking in on yourself pays off because your view is even better than ever. Now you’re a row away from the metal barricade and when you focus back on Jimin—

You’ve heard many times that photos don’t do any of the members justice, not even a fraction of how they look but being this up close, you think it’s the understatement of the century. You’re stunned, mind going blank like it has trouble processing the fact that there is a human being that exists in this world you’re living in that is beautiful beyond words and his name is Park Jimin and you’re currently staring at him, in person.

Being this up close, you can see the details of his movements, how every part of his body from the tips of his fingers to his toes is adding something to this choreograph to make it that much more fluid or powerful. You see the rings on his fingers glint as he brings it up to run it through honey blond hair, strands falling so delicately and softly against the thin sheen of sweat against his forehead, it has you mesmerized. And then you see the beginnings of a secret smile, one that starts in his eyes before stretching over his lips as he sings those sweet words. You don’t stop yourself from swooning loudly because you’re not the only one who’s affected. The song ends all too soon, Jimin backing away to be lowered down on the stage but not without throwing another smile out towards the audience, gaze so full of love for the people around him as he sings the last notes and you feel like you can finally breathe properly again.

You find yourself laughing, half in disbelief and giddiness, smile so wide thinking that that performance was closer to a spiritual experience more than anything.

BTS’ Jimin is truly something else.

So caught up in it all, you fail to notice that, at some point, you’ve lost your friend Rosa, only after when you turn your head, ready to gush about Jimin and finding that she’s no where to be seen. You had the mind to look, but it’s difficult for you less you want to lose your newly obtained good spot. Besides, the lights darkening makes it even harder to distinguish her. You leave it for now, as the next song starts up; if you can’t find her by the end of the concert, you can always call her. With that settled, you return your attention back to the next member performing.

You’re thankful for the relatively slower songs, allowing you to the time to recover and more importantly, keep the crowd controlled to a rhythmic swaying. You hate to admit it, but you really wished you had bought another water bottle even if they did cost you an arm and a leg in the arena. Your throat aches uncomfortably, making swallowing hard even if it’s a knee jerk reaction in an attempt to quench your thirst. The most you can do now is refrain yourself by simply mouthing along to the lyrics but it’s a lot easier said than done. You still catch yourself shouting the fan chants when the timing comes up even when you sound like a dying cat (but who says no to the Kim Namjoon?!)

Perhaps a poor decision on your part because then comes the medley.

You feel it in the crowd before the track even kicks in, like the tides pulling back in a telling sign that a tsunami would follow and you have no choice but to ride it, too deep into the sea of bodies to put up any sort of resistance. You’re forced to move as close to the thrust stage as possible, everyone trying desperately to grab the boys’ attention as they walk along the edges. It pushes you until you’re on the left side of the catwalk behind two rows of people now, much to your chagrin but you don’t linger on it long, too immersed in the heavy beats of the song that makes you dance with reckless abandon.

Your spurt of energy doesn’t last you long as you quickly tire, heart hammering as loud as the bass in your chest you feel like it would burst through your ribs, and what’s worse is that every ragged inhale and exhale of breath agitates your scratchy throat. The t-shirt you’re wearing is too damp for your liking, clinging to your skin and does nothing but add to the heat already surrounding you. You slow yourself down, fighting off a dizziness the overcomes you, like you’ve accidentally stood up too fast and your shoulder collides into someone. You get shoved back and though there wasn’t any real strength behind it, you stumble, barely catching yourself. You think a couple of toes have been stepped on but you think it’s collateral damage at this point, too preoccupied with trying not to succumb to this moment of weakness.

Breathe, relax, you’re fine!

You blink rapidly and as if out of sheer willpower, it begins to subside, the dark hazy border clouding your vision seeps away. You remain in your spot for a while longer, making sure that it goes away completely and once you’re sure, you focus back in on what’s happening. You’ve been moved way farther back into the crowd than you had thought, maybe about ten steps away from reaching one of the sides of the catwalk. You’re surrounded on all sides by jumping bodies, the high of the atmosphere showing no signs of stopping and with the boys still partying it up on the stage, it’s all it takes to pull you back in.

Literally nothing will stop you from seeing this concert to the end.

“Everybody say—!!” You think you hear Jungkook scream and you can’t help laughing but join in to the chorus of thousands of others singing along. The song tapers to a simple beat, the main instrumentals dying off a bit so that you could really hear the echoing voices and see the way members egg on the audience. It gradually builds again, you realize it’s a remix in place of the original song that seems even more hype than should be possible. It’s gearing up for a drop you know would have the whole arena lose their mind over as the boys travel back towards the main stage. You naturally follow the crowd, always vying to get a better view just as the music picks up and everyone starts jumping in place again.

You’re torn from trying to see the actual stage or the big screen, so keen on keeping your eyes on them until the song comes to an end. You’re out of breath once more, shoulders heaving in effort and the foggy feeling creeps back again. The stage lights dim until the only source of light you have is the big screen playing the next VCR. You distantly hear the dreamy soundtrack, a mere muffled sound against the ringing in your ears. You try desperately to make it pass, along with this dizzy spell and you shut your eyes in hopes of doing so.

It was meant to be for a moment; just like the first time it happened, you had expected for it to pass easily, only… it doesn't.

It’s like your body decided to shut down without notice, going numb before you even had a chance to fight it.

It all happened so fast.

When you become conscious again, you’re extremely disoriented, vaguely aware that you’re not where you thought you would be — on the ground, trampled with a concussion and causing a whole scene by having a team of on site paramedics surrounding you (and if you’re being honest, you’re thankful that it’s not the case because you would rather take the concussion, unconscious and all than having to see thousands of people and all the members of BTS remember you in that way).

Vision clearing a little more, you slowly start to piece the shapes and colours that come together until you recognize them as eyes…

You…You know those eyes….

Time seems to slow until you’re taken back to the night you first met eyes with a pair of crimson ones. You remember how vibrantly they gleam against the dark, burning so deeply into your soul that you had dared not breathe. Those eyes stared at you with an intensity that had frightened you from the power they hold, yet you learned that they can shine with mirth, twinkle impishly, soften in tenderness, become the moon and hold endless stars and galaxies that had you wanting to see more.

But now, they stare back at you, pupils shaking in an amalgamated storm of emotions so palpable you wonder if the stars had burnt out and the world was no more.

Distress.

Panic.

But above all, fear.

“Y/N….? Hey Y/N, can you hear me?”

You blink, rousing from your daze, the faint smell of lavender intermingling with burnt wood enveloping you like a warm blanket— a comforting and familiar scent. You turn to get a better look at the owner of this voice but all it does is throw you in for another loop.

Jimin is staring down at you, wide eyed in alarm. The black surgical mask he’s wearing is pushed down, revealing full lips parted in a way that can only be described as holding his breath, bracing for the worst. The hoodie he has pulled over his head makes it hard to get a good look at him, the orange cast of the light above almost intensifying the shadows over his face that it has you squinting, wanting to discern his features, wanting to confirm that it’s him but his voice alone should’ve been enough.

“Ji…Jimin…?” You wince at the croak you just let out, voice completely shot and sore but you need to know if this is real or not, still feeling so out of sorts. Gently, you’re being propped up into more of a sitting position and something touches the bottom of your lip.

“Drink…”

As soon as you get that first sip of the cool liquid, it’s like you come to life again, grasping at the bottle to gulp down more like you’ve spent the past hours in a desert rather than in a concert arena.

“Slow down cherub….”

A bit spills over, trickling down your chin but you don’t care, the feeling is welcomed against your hot skin. After having your fill, you pull away to take a deep breath, finding the strength to support yourself though you feel the solid arm behind you linger.

“Wha — What happened….Where..?” You mumble, bringing a hand to press to your forehead, to yourself or to him you’re not sure.

“You blacked out, probably from dehydration. I had to get you out before you got seriously hurt.”

“Out…?”

The word belatedly registers with you but when it does, your gaze whips around you, taking in your surroundings for the first time. You’re outside, on the side of the building that acts more like a back alley meant for delivery trucks and it’s secret employees-only side doors that more or less, lead to the dumpsters you see farther down the way. It’s dark out, the night air much cooler now and distantly, you hear the cheers and the thumping of the bass, the concert still going on.

The concert!

A gasp flies from your lips as you spring to your feet, so fast your world spins and you would’ve toppled over had it not been for a hand to steady your shoulders.

“Y/N! What are you— “

“I-I have to get back! The concert—!” You sputter, cutting yourself off from a cough that tears through you, making you duck into the crook of your elbow in hopes of quelling it. Your feet falter in trying to figure out which way you should go but that wasn’t the only thing holding you back.

“Wait, just hold on a second—!”

You’re tugging against his hold on your wrist, eyes watering from the force of your cough but all you hear is the waves of excited screaming and the start of a new song which rings more like the tolls of a bell signalling time is running out. You become more frantic and frustrated — at him, at yourself. All at once, these tumultuous thoughts surge forward, consuming you in their urgency; you’re blowing it, completely throwing this chance away, couldn’t even do this one thing right, why couldn’t you just hold out?

It was all a waste. You really don't deserve any of this.

“Let go of me! I need to—!”

“Y/N! STOP!”

You’re jerked back quite suddenly, firm hands taking hold of both your shoulders until you feel your back pressing into the rough brick wall of the building. Your mouth parts, a retaliation ready at the tip of your tongue but you’re cut off with a hard shake.

“Are you out of your mind right now?! What do you think you’re going to accomplish going back in there in your state?!”

“Can you just lay off?! I’m fine!”

“You can barely hold yourself up! I’m not letting you put yourself in danger!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

“Y/N LOOK AT ME!”

His voice snaps you out of your frenzy, the sheer volume of it able to pull you out of the spiralling decent into your own madness — you don’t think you’ve ever heard him shout before. The revelation makes you pause and it’s enough for you to finally become aware of what’s in front of you.

At some point, his hoodie had fallen off, letting you finally see him. He’s everything you had remembered seeing, still so utterly beautiful in that otherworldly way that it’s almost heartbreaking. Your mind can’t help but to replay those images of him on stage, so ethereal and mesmerizing until they shift, melting away altogether to what you see in front of you — raven locks replacing the honey blond, slightly more disheveled against his forehead, strands sticking to a light sheen of sweat that makes the bruising stand out more against paler skin, and stormy blue irises for a subdued scarlet, the faintest glow barely visible behind those eyes that look at you in such a pained way.

It’s a sobering sight, one that has your heart clenching.

This isn’t BTS’ Jimin.

No, he’s —

You’re slightly out of breath but you realize you both are, his exhales fanning warm against your lashes. You see Jimin’s eyes search yours, not really sure what he’s trying to find in them but you don’t want to know, too afraid of that answer. After a tense moment, he asks, a single question falling from his lips in a disquieted whisper that resonates above the cacophony that surrounds you, inside and out.

“Why….?”

Why…. It tumbles around in your head chaotically with no signs of reaching any conclusions, the thoughts disjointed and fragmented for your mind to even begin processing. It dredges up feelings you’ve unconsciously tried to bury, way more than you had imagined and it becomes too much for you to handle right now, much less put into words. But perhaps above everything, you can’t find it in you to face any of it.

You break eye contact first, turning away from the intensity that has you feeling more vulnerable than it should.

“I....You—….” You struggle to form the words past the trembling in your voice, hands balling into fists until they dig crescents into your palms, on the precipice of breaking down entirely from experiencing so many heightened emotions in one night that you just want it to end. “Forget it…Please, you— you wouldn’t understand….”

You don’t look up to see his expression, won’t dare to but you feel the way his hold tenses, going rigid until slowly, his fingers begin to slip away, touch barely brushing the tops of your forearm before they recoil completely. And then you feel his warmth leave you as he steps back, feet heavy and you miss the way the glow in his eyes extinguishes, leaving nothing more than an empty, dark abyss.

“You’re right…. I wouldn’t…” He rasps, the resignation palpable and your heart squeezes again without your permission. Your guardian demon doesn’t say anything more, the silence threatening to suffocate you but you’re moving before it has the chance to, pushing away from the wall even though your steps hesitate.

You feel like you should say something, guilty conscious tugging you to hold you in place, the words I’m sorry sitting on the back of your tongue but when you swallow, what comes out instead is, “I…should go…”

You run without looking back, ashamed.

A coward.

You find your way into the arena following the sounds of the cheering crowd, rising continuously in crescendos. You have no sense of how much time had passed, the lack in any distinguishable song playing makes you sprint and when you burst through the entrance, the entire place is bathed in violet and magenta as the white lights of people’s cellphones twinkle all around you like a sea of constellations in a galaxy.

“This is gonna be the last song for tonight, love you guys, let’s go.” Namjoon says, a bittersweet smile on his face as the music begins to play and everyone cries out again in recognition. You’re left bewildered, not wanting to believe that the concert is coming to a close already and after a brief moment of stunned silence, you force yourself to move, rejoining the crowd in the pit. You walk, wanting to immerse yourself again and finding a spot on the farthest side of the stage, closest to one of the big screens displaying the members. All around, people are singing along to the uplifting lyrics of the song and you do as well, but it’s like your body and mind are on autopilot, completely numb.

Your thoughts are running rampant inside, the fight still fresh no matter how much you’re trying to take everything in around you, commit them to memory before…

Before what?

Before you lose this small piece of happiness you’ve ever known? Or are you afraid of losing the feeling it brought you, when watching these seven amazing men who share their music that heals the hearts of so many no longer bring that sense of comfort and joy to you, but instead remind you of sad, distant memories full of unspoken words, yearning and regret.

You can almost feel it already happening.

The song comes to an end, continuing on in an instrumental loop as the members gather up to do one final bow at the thrust stage, hand in hand. Afterwards, they disperse, each taking their time to wave and interact with the fans from all corners of the stage before leaving through the lift at the main stage. You catch sight of Taehyung on the catwalk waving and gesturing cutely, Hoseok who’s eyes are glued to the far off seats, grin broad and waving enthusiastically to make sure that the fans there are not forgotten, Jin who makes a show of following the camera to blow kisses into it for everyone to see….

And then your eyes wander unconsciously, searching for him, for Jimin who’s ever the sweetheart, is running to the farthest left of the stage he can reach, right in front of where you’re standing to greet the fans there. He's radiant, a stunning smile stretching over his face so wide in a way that makes his eyes turn into crescents but you know no doubt that they sparkle in pure happiness as they look out to the fans, like he’s trying to memorize each and every face of the people who made all his dreams come true. Jimin waves to as many people as he can, blowing kisses here and there and occasionally gesturing to those to not cry and smile.

You watch on fondly, but your chest begins to ache uncontrollably in a way you don’t think is because he’s beginning to make his way back to centre stage, ready to leave. He walks languidly, like he’s trying to draw out as much time as he can while his eyes still remain focused out onto the fans and in that moment, he looks your way.

You’re not even sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you see him so clearly. With the softest smile gracing his lips, you lock eyes, his gaze so warm and adoring and as cliche as it sounded, the world slows and you see him mouth something that makes the breath catch in your throat.

I love you.

He reaches out a hand to wave one last time before he’s turning away, screaming those same words again into the microphone to let the whole arena know and with that, the boys are lowered down. The music fades, there’s a final huzzah as a massive lit up panel with the band’s logo rises up to take up centre stage and like a movie, the credits begin rolling on screen, signalling the official end of the concert. People around begin to disperse, intending on leaving to beat the rush of traffic while there are some who remain in their spots to watch the extra practice footage the boys took.

You are the latter, however your attention is not on the clips rolling, rather you are lost amidst a turmoil of emotions as your mind seems to be stuck on replaying that moment with Jimin. You’re not sure why, can’t understand the affect it has on you when logically you know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen something like it. It’s almost a bit absurd until you realize….

For the split second it happened, you had wished for raven hair and deep ruby eyes.

210 notes · View notes

storm-driver · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10 for Atone and Repay is at about the 56% mark and I should be able to get more of it done in the next week, maybe get it up soon. Chapter 11 shouldn’t take nearly as long, since I’ve been working on that one alongside Chapter 10. As a thanks for putting up with my excessively long hiatus, here’s a preview for Chapter 10 below the cut! I’ve been working on this chapter since I published Chapter 9 last year, but a majority of this chapter was written in the past few months. Thank you again for sticking with me, and I hope to have “Once More” up on Ao3 sometime in the next few weeks! <3

(Be warned, has direct spoilers for AAR, please consider reading the full story before reading this ^^)

“So much for leaving home...And here I thought I’d get to go on a real journey for once…” Ventus huffed, dragging his tired, armored legs across the stone floor outside his castle home. Night had fallen on the Land of Departure, and it was getting increasingly cold with each passing second.

Ventus’ pulled the helmet off his head, making his blond spikes spring back up as he did so. He stole a glance at the clouded skies, spotting the first specks of snow that fluttered down. The cold wind pressed against his face, soothing the small pain from the scratch that he still had on his cheek.

It’d only been a few hours since the Nobodies attacked them in the mansion, but it felt like it could’ve been months ago. Roxas’ unsuspecting body being hurled across the room, through a doorway and crashing down into the broken table and chandelier. The desolate look on his face, his eyes unblinking and heart beating all too slow. He must’ve had a concussion, even after Aqua administered some healing spells. He had still been slurring his words and glancing around the room as if he had not escaped the memory from the past.

It only gave rise to worry when he insisted on searching the mansion still. Standing up from his spot on the table and tumbling forward as Terra and Riku tried to get him to sit down. And then Roxas fell over seconds after standing up.

Would that they hadn’t encountered those Nobodies, or that Roxas hadn’t fallen at such a precarious moment. He wouldn’t recover within an hour, and Aqua made the decision to go back home. To take a break and simply breathe rather than throwing themselves into the next piece of this puzzle they couldn’t solve. It had been several nights since anyone in the castle got good rest, being awoken by Ventus’ screams at painful nightmares, or the everyday trauma that seemed to haunt them all.

Being back home was reassuring, at least. Ventus knew this place, better than anywhere else he may have lived in the past. He knew the halls, and where he could sleep without someone bothering him. He knew the mountains where they trained, and he knew the forest far and below them. It was a small world, but it was a haven. Even if Nobodies had proven they could reach here.

The dark corridor he’d walked through was ever shifting and threatening to close if someone had lost his grip on the darkness. It was sketchy to let Roxas bring them home, after being knocked out in such a manner and with a blur of new memories at the front of his mind.

But Roxas stepped through it just fine. His hood was draped over his head, giving way to only tired, blue eyes and a small frown. The chains rattled on his chest and he leaned forward to keep himself from falling. He still wasn’t fully healed, and he may not have been for some time.

The tip of his boot snagged a crack in the cement, throwing off his already shaken balance. Roxas’ eyes popped open and he started falling forward, the hood over his head slipping onto his back and exposing his frightened face. Fortunate that Ventus had walked through the portal first, his armored frame caught Roxas’ against his chest and kept his friend from face planting against the stone.

Roxas’ body fell limp against Ventus. The latter, who nearly shrieked at the sight, kept his arms around Roxas and held him up. Roxas’ head was resting over Ven’s shoulder, eyes staring at the ground beneath him and Ventus. A bandage still resting over his skin to help a new scar heal.

“Yeah, no, I was wrong,” Ventus hauled his friend up as he started to slip back down to the concrete. “You’re hurt more than you told Aqua. I’ll tell her when she gets here.”

Ventus sighed and shifted his arms around. He pulled Roxas’ left arm over his shoulder and kept one hand around his friend’s back, already starting to drag him towards the castle. Roxas didn’t seem entirely conscious, but as Ventus started walking, he tried to pick up his feet and walk with him.

Ventus kept his eyes on the doors of the castle, stepping up the stairs one at a time. Roxas’ head lolled around aimlessly next to him, as if he were still passed out. But if Ventus glanced over, he could see Roxas blinking and taking deep breaths, brows furrowed with a frown planted on his face.

He looked back towards the doors, already nearing the last step. “You feeling okay, besides that?”

“No…”

That much probably should’ve been obvious. A concussion alone doesn’t feel good. Whatever else was bothering him didn’t help.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hurt Vanitas…”

Ventus almost stopped in his tracks, hesitating to take the next step up. But he kept going. He let go of Roxas’ arm over his shoulder, letting the Nobody lean his whole weight into Ventus instead. He reached forward and pushed the doors open with one simple nudge. Such was the benefit of living in a magically-imbued castle.

“He’s fine, I’m sure. Don’t worry about him right now,” Ventus tried to reassure. But looking once again at Roxas, he could tell his words had little effect.

“I can’t stop worryinaboudim...”

Roxas’ words were slurring again, but he wasn’t impossible to understand. Ventus kept dragging his body along the hallway and towards the staircases at the very back of the corridor. The clanks of Ventus’ armor echoed around them. The hall was dark with no practical light source. It was almost hard to see where the tiles ended and the staircase began.

“That’s kind of you to worry about him, really,” Ventus pulled Roxas a little more over his shoulder. “But he’s fine. You saw Aqua treating him, she said that whatever happened had passed.”

“That’s not what I mean…” Roxas mumbled out. His shoes bumped each step as Ventus climbed the stairs. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

The older of the two kept his silence. Perhaps he didn’t quite understand yet.

“I shouldn’t care as much as I do,” his eyes flicked across each step as they climbed. “He’s the one that tried to-”

Roxas’ breath hitched. That still haunted him. What happened on that beach, and what he’d almost done in Radiant Garden. Just trying to say anything about it pressed down on his heart and started rejuvenating a deep-rooted fear in him. Something he thought he’d gotten over when his heart sprung free from Sora’s and he was finally given a body of his own again. When he would no longer be confined to another person’s soul.

Alas, that was an unfortunate lie. Vanitas had no regrets for his volatile actions against Roxas. He’d hardly issued an apology.

“You don’t have to tell me, I know what he did,” Ventus kept talking, noting how much Roxas was struggling to speak. “And I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I’d known better then.”

In a way, it was Ventus’ fault what happened. If he’d stopped Roxas from running off to Radiant Garden in the first place, he never would’ve ended up in the Realm of Darkness. If Ven and Sora had never fought Vanitas in the graveyard, he wouldn’t have been there to grab hold of Roxas’ body. And if he hadn’t been so weak all those years ago, Vanitas would never have…

The doors to the west wing were propped open and closed as Ven tugged his friend up the stairs. Ventus did most of the lifting, Roxas’ boots hardly attempting to step on each stair and scraping over the edges. It wasn’t helped by his armor, which was heavy enough on its own.

A part of him wanted to tell Roxas to at least try to help make this easier. But another knew too well that he’d be asking too much. His friend had already taken a beating today, both physical and emotionally. Slamming his head into a broken chandelier and having been forced to relive dangerously painful memories was more than enough for one day. He deserved a reprieve, even if brief.

Roxas’ room was lit from the gentle moon outside his window. Frost edged the glass and gave the room chills that he didn’t think possible, even if covered in his armor.

Dragging his twin to the bed was easier said than done, with Roxas’ shoes scraping across the floor and his body slowly dozing off. Ventus shook him as he pulled, saying, “Don’t fall asleep yet.”

Roxas gave no verbal reply, but his head nodded, which was indication enough that he heard and understood Ven.

He gently dumped Roxas onto the bed, letting him find his place before letting go entirely. Roxas leaned against the soft mattress, then practically fell into it. His eyes shut and he groaned.

“I’ll go get Aqua as soon as she gets home. For now, just rest,” Ven folded his arms over each other. Roxas lazily blinked twice, throwing a glance at Ven, before turning his eyes back to whatever else was on his mind.

Just a few days ago, he’d been so resolute in helping Ventus remember everything, even if it meant he’d suffered the consequences. But now he appeared utterly drained. It could’ve just been the awful beating he’d had from the Nobodies and whatever darkness possessed Vanitas. But that hopeful attitude seemed bleak now.

Aqua had ordered that Vanitas be taken back home through anything but a dark portal. Ready as she was to give that same order to Roxas, she thought it better to keep the two separated. Vanitas’ prey had been Roxas during his previous outburst. If they couldn’t contain it a second time, with the Nobody in such a weak state now, there’d be no protecting him.

After he’d come back from his venture in past memories, Roxas only stayed conscious for a few minutes before he was falling over. Even Naminé’s safe return was not enough to move him back to full recovery. Rather when he saw his dear friend walk through the door of the mansion with Kairi and Xion by her side, he tripped on his own feet trying to run up to her.

Roxas was sent home, even if his method of travel was still risky at best. The only thing that made Aqua agree in the first place was when Ventus swore he wouldn’t let anything happen.

But something had already happened. Whatever Roxas saw had much more drastic effects than anything before. He’d almost always been willing to share what hazy details he could remember from the dreams and the memories that he glimpsed. But this time, even when Ventus had asked him about it, Roxas didn’t say a thing.

Ventus kept staring at his friend. He couldn’t keep to himself and finally spoke up:

“So what else happened?”

Roxas hardly moved, much less spoke.

“You’ve never been quiet about this before. Was it really that bad?”

Roxas kept to himself for a moment, but only a moment. As if pondering the words in his head before he dared to speak them.

“It’s nothing to do with the memories.”

Ventus blinked twice. He wasn’t expecting that answer. “Then what is it?”

“Vanitas tried to hurt me,” Roxas mumbled.

“Well...yes, he did.”

“But I’m not worried about myself at all.”

Ven’s eyes narrowed.

“Why am I only worried about him?” Roxas’ fingers curled into his hand. “After everything that he did?”

“I don’t know…”

Roxas started to move again, trying to sit upright. His palms pressed against the mattress and he leaned backwards. Still shaky and tired, but he managed it all on his own.

“Is it...what I did for him?” He lifted up a palm and clutched at the front of his coat. “Or what he did to me?”

Ventus knew exactly what he meant. Had his and Vanitas’ union, albeit temporary, truly caused this kind of change? It could explain why Roxas seemed to get over it so fast, or even why he put up with Vanitas at all. It may even explain why Vanitas was suddenly so willing to follow him and Ventus around, or help them with anything.

But the implications of such were harrowing to think of. Roxas was already tempered by his connection to Sora, and now this connection to Ventus. The boy has never truly been just himself. He’s always had bits and pieces of others in there, to influence his choices or pass along certain traits. Maybe even to store memories or keep pieces of a heart safe while it was still recovering.

He’d hardly ever known what it is to be himself. The one thing he must’ve yearned for more than anything, yet bound from him by the cruel fetters of fate.

If it truly was that connection between him and Vanitas that was turning his decisions or guiding his choices, what would that mean for him and Ventus? The two must’ve shared a similar connection. How would that have-

Ventus shook his head. No, that’s not it. Roxas isn’t bound by other people like he used to be. He may still be Sora’s Nobody, but he has his own heart, his own body. He isn’t anyone besides himself.

Ventus would’ve preferred to remember what was said of Roxas and Vanitas’ first meeting, on those dark shores. When Vanitas was drifting away and Roxas refused to let him go.

“I doubt it,” Ventus muttered. “You were there at his side before any of that happened.”

Roxas looked to his friend once, then back down at the floor beneath his boots.

“You didn’t care that it was Vanitas who was on that beach. You just wanted to keep him company, maybe even help him in whatever way you could,” Ven offered a smile. “You’re willing to put other people before your own needs. That’s just the kind of person you are.”

As much as he hoped the words would be of comfort to Roxas, Ven wasn’t entirely sure it worked. His twin kept staring at the ground, deep blue eyes staring at nothing but the dead air between them.

Roxas took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, “Unless there’s-”

Before he could say another word, an armored hand landed on his left shoulder and pulled him away from his thoughts. Roxas looked up to meet Ven’s gaze, who looked a bit more frustrated than before.

“You’re still you, Roxas,” Ventus gave him a shake, pulling his fleeting thoughts out of whatever dark tangent they were going on. “Nothing is going to change that. What you did for Vanitas was your own choice. You could’ve let Terra take care of everything, and then we wouldn’t have Vanitas here at the castle with us.”

Roxas kept staring, already recalling that day. The darkness had been tugging on his very soul. But as soon as he saw Vanitas’ disheveled body, the darkness pouring out of his shattered heart... Suddenly it didn’t matter that Roxas was about to turn into a Heartless. The only thing he cared about was to give any comfort he could to the dying boy.

“You chose to help Vanitas. And I know, it didn’t have much pay-off...but you saved his life. That was all you, Roxas. Nobody else.”

I did save him… That was a choice that I made.

Roxas lowered his head, closing his eyes and taking another, much needed breath of air. As he exhaled, the smallest smirk appeared on his face. “Alright,” he mumbled. “True enough.”

Ventus felt relief flutter through his chest. He stepped away from Roxas, letting his friend have a little breathing room.

Roxas looked again at Ven, but not at his friend’s face. Rather what he was wearing.

“...You have armor?” Roxas mumbled as he looked Ven up and down.

And just as he was regaining hope for Roxas’ wellbeing, Ven felt that hope shatter. Ventus stared at his friend, unsure of how to respond. He glanced down at his attire once, then back at Roxas’ baffled expression. “You KNOW I have armor.”

“I do?”

Ven’s shoulders drooped and his eyes narrowed. “Oh my-” He sighed in such an overly exasperated way. “Alright, I’m healing you myself.”

#kingdom hearts #aar #roxas #ventus #ao3

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achtung-attitude · 4 years

Photo

CHAPTER 36: Weezer - Part 1

From his porch on Mulholland Drive, All-Kill sits, looking out across Los Angeles. The view is beautiful at night, but on this particular morning, it looks muggy and uncomfortable. “Yeon-in,” he calls.

At his summons, the wolf appears with a bottle of Korean soju held in its jaws. With surprising dexterity, it places the bottle on a small table next to its master. All-Kill pets his companion between the ears, then unscrews the cap, pouring the rice wine into a small glass and sipping from it.

“Little early for that, isn’t it?” T’onga says, stepping out of the house and standing behind the chair.

“I’m in a celebratory mood… Have you taken care of everything? The stragglers and loose ends?” the boss replies, keeping his eyes on the view.

“Yeah. Of course,” she says numbly.

“Good. Then the time to strike is now. Go to where Dust is and use HOUSE OF PAIN to eliminate him. No matter what you say or what it takes, do that above all else. It makes no difference what kind of ability Dust has. Once you get him into the room, he’s no match for you. I have every confidence. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve already won.” He punctuates his statement with another sip of soju and a smile.

“Right… Where’s Sang-ok?” T’onga asks.

“At his apartment. I’ll call him over when you’re done.”

“…And Sumni?”

At the mention of this name, there is a long pause between the two, as All-Kill places his glass down. “…She’s on standby, as usual. Why? What difference does it make?”

“Oh… it doesn’t. I was just wondering where everybody was. See you later, boss…” she turns a leaves, stepping back inside the house. All-Kill turns his head and keeps his eye on her until she leaves his sight. The wolf at his feet whines softly.

“Anaheim…” he mutters, and nothing more.

---

The Anaheim Convention Center and Arena! One of the largest gathering spots in all of Southern California, a stone’s throw away from the famous Disneyland, home to every sort of convention for every sort of event, from company-wide get-togethers, to the biggest sporting event, down to the most niche of fan conventions. And this time of year, it's home to the one and only...

TubeCon, the world’s convention for the no. 1 video-sharing network, VidTube! Here, everyone from video bloggers, pranksters, game streamers and the ever underappreciated animators gather to engage with their fans and celebrate their work.

They mill about like termites, some old, but most young, moving between stall after stall, buying merch, taking selfies. Among them are content creators, many of whom film themselves on their phones. Their voices can be heard clearly over the general din.

“EY ITS UR BOY MERCINATOR MEETING UP WITH SOME FANS!!!”

“EY WHAT UP GUYS IT'S YO BOY RATMATT HERE AT TUBECON!!!”

“WE'RE THE SLY BROTHERS AND WE'RE HERE AT TUBECON TO GET PEOPLE'S REACTIONS TO MEETING US!!!”

At the far end of the auditorium, three men in their thirties play video games on a couch under the scrutiny of over a hundred people.

“Julio,” one demands of his bearded companion, “would you rather eat a man or acquire a nice tan?”

“I don’t… What kind of question is that, Neil?” Julio splutters.

“Julio, answer the question!” demands the third.

“What is this place...?” Kilo mutters, taking in the atmosphere with distaste, having found himself and his friends beckoned here.

“This is probably what Hell looks like,” Moya remarks, with a thousand-yard stare. In the midst of this controlled chaos, she and Kilo stand protectively between Shizuka, who stares doe-eyed into the crowd, searching for something. For someone. Frowning, she reaches into her inside pocket and pulls out the message for the hundredth time.

I WILL MEET YOU AT ANAHEIM and a drawing of an impossible triangle, written in permanent marker, and three tickets to this very convention. Nothing else was in the envelope delivered to Jerome’s mansion. Shizuka turns the message around, but all she sees on the back is the marker ink bleeding through the paper.

“Whoever it was that sent that letter…” Kilo grumbles, peering over her shoulder at it, “ least they could’ve done is be a little more specific. So what now, cop?” he turns to Moya, “We just supposed to stand around here, waitin’ for somebody to walk up on us?”

“This is our best move,” Moya replies, squinting suspiciously into the crowd, “For now, we have to assume the worst and that this is a Congregation trap. They’ve been one step ahead of us this whole time, and even now they still have the advantage. But waiting around in C-King’s house won’t get us any closer to stopping them, so we may as well take the chance and handle what comes of it. And besides… if T’onga really did send that message, then I don’t know when we’ll get another chance to get this close to her. No matter what happens, we can’t get separated. As long as we stick together, I’m confident we can take anything that comes our way!”

“Hrrmh… I hope you’re right…” Kilo says. Shizuka says nothing during this exchange, but looks up from the letter, glaring resolutely.

“HEY, YOU GUYS!!” shouts a loud, raucous cry, directed at the three of them. Immediately, SATURN BARZ and WITCH MOUNTAIN come out, only to recede soon after. A man in his late 20s wearing mirror-shades suddenly stands right in front of Shizuka.

With painfully artificial exuberance, the man in sunglasses shouts, “You’re next in line, huh, bros?! Great!! Don’t be shy, I always have time for fans! Here, lemme get that for you!” He says, taking the paper from Shizuka’s hand.

“Ah…! Hey, wait…!!” she starts, but the guy soons hands it back to her, but not before scrawling chicken scratch on the back in red ink.

“Who the fuck is this…?” Kilo mutters. He then glances behind him and notices for the first time a line has formed behind them, composed of teenage girls and boys, the eldest surely no older than 14. Without moving from their spot, the trio appear to have become part of an autograph line.

“Now you got your autograph, how about a selfie?!” the shaded vlogger announces to Shizuka, already pulling out a smartphone and attaching it to a telescopic pole. “It’ll be legit, for real! You’re bound to get a ton of likes on your feed once people see me on it!”

“Ah… N-no, thanks,” Shizuka responds, taken aback, “I’m kind… of waiting for-”

“Come on, honey, no need to be shy!” he announces again, sidling up beside her with his selfie stick raised over them, “You’re talking a major boost in online cred if you get seen with me! I’m kind of a big deal on YouTube, in case you didn’t know!” Bearing over her, he reaches a hand across her shoulders, “And hey, if we hang out a little more, maybe I can give you a few tips on how to get your own channel started! I could send a few early subscribers your way, if you do me a couple favors. What do you sGGLKH!!”

He chokes, his tongue lolling out as Moya lifts him, one-handed, by the back of his t-shirt collar. Kilo, meanwhile, grabs the selfie stick out of his hand, breaks it in half over his knee, then pitches the phone to the other side of the auditorium. The teenagers in the line behind them gasp. Moya drops him, and they and Shizuka moves away from him, stepping around him like garbage.

“H-Hey! Wait up!!” The vlogger shouts, rubbing his neck and beginning to pursue them, “Hey! You guys! Who do you fuckin’ think you are?! Hey, I said--!!” Kilo and Moya turn at once, fixing him with furious expressions. “Yeah, what?”, they say at the same time.

The vlogger appears to forget how to speak for a moment. Then he scurries off to retrieve his phone, shouting back, “My followers are gonna hear about this, you hear me?!”

Shizuka hardly notices his departure, merely brushing lint off her shoulder. Kilo and Moya exchange a concerned glance.

---

The vlogger weaves his way through the crowd, eventually finding his phone lying on the ground with a cracked screen. Upon sight, he rushes to retrieve it, but crashes into a tall man in a hoodie from behind. “Hey! Watch where you’re going, jackass!” he berates before stooping to pick up his phone. The guy in the hoodie slouches, removing his earbuds from his ears and scratching his oversized afro.

Before the vlogger stands back up, he starts wheezing. He manages to release a few choked coughs, which go unnoticed by anyone, before his neck and face begin to swell up like a balloon and his face turns a shade of pale blue.

“Anaphylactic shock, huh? Nasty...” says Toto, and nothing more. By the time he finishes his remark, the vlogger is already dead and he has lost all interest in him. He peers over the crowd. His eyes fall upon the trio, then he slides himself into the back corridors.

Without a care in the world, he strides through the service hallways, eventually coming to the security control center. He opens the door with a stolen clearance card and enters the room, shutting the door behind him. Two dead security guards are propped up against the wall, their faces blotchy and swollen. Toto sits down at the surveillance desk and finds the trio on one of the monitors.

“They’re clinging to each other like…” he mutters to himself, keeping them in sight at all times. “Like… Like, uh… Liiiike… Oh! Like tar and feathers! … No, no, not like that, not like tar and feathers, more like…” he stops abruptly and furrows his brow deeply, searching for the correct analogy. “Flies on hot shit? No, no… Oh, yeah! Like atomic particles! Two little electrons orbiting around a neutron/proton center! That’s perfect!” He smiles, delighted. Then his smile drops.

“Wait, hold on, if the three of them are an atom, then wouldn’t splitting them up be totally bad?” he mutters, beads of sweat suddenly appearing on his forehead, “When you split an atom up, you get nuclear fusion, in other words a big fuckass huge explosion…! Applyin’ that here… Dust wanted me to separate the Joestar princess from her friends, but what if that’s a bad idea…?! What if the best bet is to take ‘em all here and now, together…?! No no no, fighting ‘em all at once is no good either, their abilities are too strong…!

“Aaagh, did I do enough, did I miss anything?! I been here for an hour and I made sure to touch as many people as I could, but what if it ain’t enough?! What if all the people I came into contact left already?! Uuuurghh…!!” he frets manically over this, pinching his temples as his thoughts race. Then at last he freezes, and his relaxed posture returns.

“Don’t be stupid,” he admonishes himself, “It’s just an expression, they ain’t really atoms. They just people. Caught in the flow of fate, just like everybody. Does no good to worry over how things’ll turn out. Split ‘em up, cram ‘em together… It’s all the same at the End of Time…” Fully calmed down, he reaches for the microphone and leans into it.

Affecting an officious, professional tone, he speaks into the PA, “Attention, all convention-goers, attention all convention-goers. The Paulie Paul panel event will be commencing in ten minutes. Please proceed to the cordoned area in Hall D in an orderly fashion. Thank you.” Finished, he watches with satisfaction at the silent stampede that begins, which slams into the trio, tearing them apart.

He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a pre-rolled spliff. He regards it for a moment, taking in the herbal scent, before shaking his head. “No, no… No time. Gotta work…” he says, getting up and leaving the security office, heading for the exhibit halls.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #achtung attitude #shizuka joestar #kilo staples #moya pezzente #toto #ch36

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frightknights-n-monstergirls · 4 years

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I wanted to see Crane be a sour puss and there’s not much to do about it. Here’s the first part to tie y’all over, this might be three parts but I think it will be only two. Enjoy!

Warnings: None that I know of?

You got the call. The call means bad news and you got it. When you were called you had just sat down to a nicely prepared dinner, you even made extra to take to work for lunch! Then maybe you thought about giving it to your boyfriend, he doesn’t take very good care of himself after all. During your debate with yourself, he called you on the phone you should never use. He had given it to you just in case something so horrible happened, but you should never use it. When it rang, you heart sank. This was it, this will probably be the last time you will hear his voice.

“What happened?” You answered the phone not bothering with a hello. There was a weird noise in the background, like someone huffing and puffing into the phone. “Jonathan?”

“Y/N, Em dying.” A groggy voice came from the other end, “Em coming over.” It sounded like his nose was stuffed up, to cement your suspicions a loud wet sniff came from the other side, “Go to jour closet, dere should be gloves and a medical mask. Put dose on, I’ll be dere shortly.”

Before you could ask anything else, Jonathan hung up. That was an hour ago, you sit on your couch worrying about your boyfriend. You could hardly think of what Jonathan contracted if he thought that you should be protected. What if it is swine flu? What if it is ebola? You reach over to the phone to call when a knock got your attention. You run to the door opening it to reveal the infamous Scarecrow with a pink nose and cruddy eyes.

“You look sick.” You point out noting how pale your lover is, well paler than the norm. Jonathan limps pass you with a snot filled snort. “I thought you said you were dying?” You close the door watching him collapse on the couch.

“It feels like it.” Jonathan groans his wheezing having that wet pull in his chest. You place a hand on his sweaty forehead, it was scorching! “I blame dis kid at da corner store. He sneezed on me.” He finished with a snotty sniff, you had to admit it would take a child to give Jonathan whatever this was.

“Sounds rough, buddy.” You rely standing up to get some blankets and maybe some medicine. You go to your medicine cabinet first to figure out what to give your lover. It looks like he has a cold, but you knew that a flu can appear cold like. You sigh picking out your cold medicine to test if Jonathan did just have a cold. If this didn’t work, you might have to force him to the corner clinic. You grab some blanket from the hall closet as you make your way back to Jonathan. You walk to him noticing his slight shivering, “Here, I got you some blankets and medicine.”

Jonathan took the blankets first cocooning himself in them to where only his glasses and nose are the only things visible. You smile at him barely hearing a muffled order, “You should make me something.”

You look at him with your hand on your hip still holding the medicine Jonathan still needs to take. He’s even bossier than usual, probably because he thinks you’re going to wait on him, hand and foot. You hand Jonathan the medicine before heading to the kitchen for some orange juice. The medicine you gave him is in liquid form, it will taste like crap but it does the job better than any pill you have ever taken.

“Here’s the beer to your shot.” You giggle as you place the glass in his hand. Jonathan gives you a look of disapproval then knocks back the medicine. He shivers from the taste quickly chugging down his drink. “I have a recipe for chicken soup but I never made it before.”

“Here’s your chance.” Jonathan groans settling deeper in his nest of blankets, sound a lot better than before. You watch him take off his shoes with his feet to curl up with the mound of cloth with the rest of him. “I haven’t eaten in days.”

“That’s not my fault.” You shrug walking back to your kitchen to search for an old cook book that had the recipe. You ignore the fury fueled rant from Jonathan about his research, supplies being low, blah blah blah. Honestly, you have heard this all before when you have pulled out that phrase. It was like Jonathan wanted you to feel something, probably fear of him starving to death or killing himself with work. You do worry, but then again this was all on him. You don’t force him, he made that decision.

You find what you are looking for, flipping through the pages until the recipe pops up. You skim the ingredients to see if you needed to go to the store or not. The only thing was the vegetables, you could possibly substitute with a pack of frozen mixed veggies you have. You really didn’t want to leave Jonathan by himself at this time. You peer over at him when you notice how quiet it has gotten. Heavy snoring catches your attention, you tip toe over to find Jonathan’s head lolled back with his mouth open. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed softly ever so often, his round glasses slowly slide to his forehead. You smile to yourself as you go fix him his soup.

You were lucky enough to have nearly everything for this. The whole chicken you were hoping to make this Sunday had to be used, the frozen bag of vegetable had everything the recipe called for plus a few more. The only problem was the wait time. It would take a few hours before it would be done. You just hoped that Jonathan would stay asleep until then. Of course, your luck wasn’t great, Jonathan woke up about an hour after you set everything up.

You are now sitting with him on the couch watching some shitty horror movie he picked out. You look at the clock for the tenth time as if miraculously it got later. You have to feed Jonathan something, it wasn’t healthy just giving him medicine on an empty stomach. “I’m going to order some chicken corn soup from the take out joint down the block.”

“Fine.” Jonathan replies groggily his eyes still a bit droopy from his nap. You nearly quit when Jonathan started to purposefully annoy you. From pressing his body against you in the most uncomfortable ways to sticking his fingers in your orifices like your ears and mouth (Not in your nose, Thank God). You never realized how much of an actual creep he was until now. You had to guess that the fever was messing with Jonathan’s mind. At least, you hoped.

You grab your phone and dial in the number. Just as a thick accented voice answers, you feel Jonathan’s foot rest on your thigh. You don’t think too much about it as you tell the lady your order. The foot starts to travel towards the inside of your leg then up your torso. You have no idea what your other is doing or thinking for that matter. Jonathan slips his foot inside your shirt, making you jump from how cold it is. You try your best to keep your voice even as Jonathan continues his endeavor. It’s not until his long claw of a toe nail lightly scratches the underside of your chin did you hang up the phone while hopping out of your seat. You whip around at him to notice a sly smirk on his face. He wanted a reaction out of you.

“It’s take 10 minutes.” You inform Jonathan in a displeased tone, “And it will take me that long to get to there.” You grab your things that you will need for the trip before going to the kitchen to have a quick peek at dinner for tonight.

“You’re going to leave me here?” Jonathan questions from where he is. You shut the pot closed again turning to see his judgmental mug.

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“I would imagine so.” You walk to the door feeling his hot angry stare at your back. You look at him as you are opening the door, “It won’t take long. It’s not like it will kill you. Besides, I need a break from you anyway.” You smirk seeing your statement causing a bit of a stir in Jonathan. His glare hardening from what you had said. You blow a kiss at him with a tight squeak of your lips. Then you were off.

#my writing #jonathan crane #detective comics #dcu

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bgn846 · 3 years

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The Niflheim Experiment Chapter 5

After five hours in the car Gladio was about to go crazy. He needed a break, everyone had been taking power naps, but sleeping in a cramped car was not comfortable. Ravus had not relinquished his driving seat since the episode at the abandoned farm house. Content to stare ahead and ignore all of them, Ravus drove on. Spacing out as the trees flew by, Gladio didn’t do much, until a small green sign caught his attention in the distance. When they got close enough to read it he was barely able to contain his excitement. It said one thing, Insomnia 60 MI.

“Okay time to switch.” Aranea announced.

“I will be driving through to the city.” Ravus replied sternly.

“Do you want to draw attention on purpose?” She sighed. “Switch with Loqi.”

“Why would me driving draw attention?”

Groaning loudly Aranea leaned over the console and stared at Ravus, even though he didn’t look back. “You have snow white hair, and you aren’t old. You scowl at everything, and your eyes are freaky when you look directly into them.”

“There is nothing wrong with my eyes!” Ravus shot back.

“Sure,” Aranea drawled out, “care to explain why one of them seems to be a different color than the other?”

“I was born like that,” he huffed.

“Well, that’s great, but you shouldn’t be the first person someone has to talk to if we get pulled over.”

“Why exactly is Loqi better?”

“He’s blond and not whatever white witch color you’ve got going. He also knows how to smile.” She finished leaning back into her seat.

When Ravus pulled off to the side Gladio was shocked. Luna remained silent during the exchange; it seemed she was still pissed at her brother for his behavior earlier. Taking the opportunity to stretch Gladio carefully got out of the car. Everyone else had the same idea and lolled about, not talking. They could wander off unlike Gladio, who still needed something to lean on otherwise he’d fall over.

Boots scraping across the dirt drew his attention as Gladio pondered the idea of driving the car himself. He could operate one in his current condition, though he was a little worried he might fall asleep staring at the dashed lines on the road whizzing by. Deciding that was a bad idea he turned to who had approached.

“I’m not sure whether to be grateful or upset,” Ravus sighed, “no one is talking to me.”

“I’ll still talk to you.” Gladio offered with a small shrug.

Ravus hummed and took a deep breath. “When do you think you’ll have a moment to discuss our conversation with Luna?”

Gladio faltered, he wanted to talk with Luna, only without the others listening. “I was sorta wanting to talk to her in private.”

“I can understand that. Anything to keep Aranea and Loqi from offering their two cents would be most beneficial.”

“Are you alright with Loqi driving? You’re not gonna make a stink are you?” Gladio asked with worry.

Curling his lips Ravus looked put out. “Aranea makes a valid argument as to why I shouldn’t be behind the wheel. I’m still sitting up front though, just in case.” He added with an air of authority.

Gladio was about to add more when Luna and Aranea walked over. Luna hopped into the backseat and waited in the middle patiently. “Guess that’s my cue to become one with the side of the door again.” Gladio weakly announced. True to Ravus’ word, he did indeed sit in the front passenger seat. Aranea had tried to make an argument about why it should be her, but one deathly glare from Ravus and she gave up. She was obviously tired and didn’t want to deal with his antics.

Loqi drove well and kept quiet as they inched closer to insomnia. Luna had fallen asleep on Gladio’s shoulder and seemed peaceful enough. When the wall appeared ahead of them in the distance Loqi finally broke his silence.

“How are we going to get through this? I mean do we need papers, are we on vacation?”

“We’re going to a friend’s wedding.” Ravus offered succinctly.

“Who’s?!” Loqi blurted.

“It’s the best explanation for our odd parings. Brother and sister, an aunt, a bratty nephew, and a 3rd cousin simply traveling together.”

“Who’s the bratty nephew?” Aranea asked with curiosity.

“Loqi of course,” announced Ravus with little preamble. “Gladio is the only dark haired person among us, so he can’t be directly from the family.”

Gladio had his mouth open to join in, but decided against it. Things were already strange enough. For once no one disagreed, and when Loqi slowed down to talk with the guard he spun a perfectly believable story. It looked like it was working until the man turned and went back into the guard hut. The imposing gate in front of them remained closed.

“What’s going on?” Loqi asked.

“I dunno if they’ll let us in without ID’s.” Gladio lamented.

“If you say who you are then the chances of us getting sold out by the traitor become that much greater,” huffed Aranea.

“It might be a chance we have to take; otherwise we’ll be stuck out here.”

“How long is the drive to the citadel from the gate?” Loqi pondered.

“Nearly thirty minutes, if there’s no traffic.”

“Shit, the dude’s coming back, everybody shut up!” Loqi ordered.

They all listened as the guard explained that proper ID was required to enter the city, plus verification from the person they were visiting. Thinking fast Gladio leaned forward to try and see the man through the window. “I’m sorry we messed up the process sir,” he began humbly, “is there any chance we can call our uncle and have you speak with him?”

The guard frowned and was clearly debating the idea. “I still need to see ID from you all,” he announced. “Call your uncle and let me speak with him while you gather your documents.”

Before Gladio could reply a phone was thrust in his hand. Aranea stared at him with worry and Ravus, who’s phone he was currently holding, merely looked bored. Licking his lips he held it out briefly for Ravus to unlock so he could dial. Praying that someone would answer Gladio let the phone ring longer than normal. Right as he was about to give up the line connected.

“Hello?” Came the pleasant response.

Hoping he could convey enough details in a short period of time Gladio launched into his speech. “Hey Uncle Jared! It’s your nephew Gladio.” He could hear the sudden gasp on the other end and pushed forward ignoring it. “We’re all stuck at the wall trying to get in for the wedding! Do you think you could talk to the guard and explain the situation? I mean I would hate to miss the opportunity to surprise Iris on her big day, just cause we couldn’t make it to the venue!”

Gladio waited with baited breath, hoping that Jared wouldn’t launch into a million and one questions. Thankfully the man simply uttered a weak affirmation and went silent. Leaning forward once again Gladio handed the phone off to the guard. They all watched as he ambled off a few feet away to talk.

“Do you all have ID?” Gladio asked quickly.

“Yeah I had Loqi make us all fake ones right before we left.”

“Luna too?” Gladio queried as he watched Aranea go wide eyed for a moment and shake her head.

“I’ve got one for my sister.” Ravus interjected.

“Why the h--.”

“We can’t waste time with that right now,” Gladio hastily replied, “I don’t have an ID!”

“You don’t carry one around with you in your wallet?” Aranea frowned, “That’s weird.”

“I don’t have my wallet!” Gladio all but shouted as he warily watched the guard, who was still talking to Jared.

Aranea went to response but suddenly looked rather guilty. “Yeah, sorry about that, you do have your wallet. It’s been in the trunk the whole time.” Gladio didn’t have time to respond as Aranea quickly launched into another round of discussion. “We also made you a fake ID as well; there is no point in using your real one now. That guard will call it in immediately.”

The flurry of activity that came next left Gladio in shock. He had no idea what Jared had told the man as the phone had been handed back, already disconnected. Their ID’s were reviewed and the contents of the trunk were checked. After five minutes the heavy metal gate was opened and they were waved through.

“Should I call him back?”

“His phone was probably tapped.” Loqi supplied. “I wouldn’t”

“Who was that anyway?” Luna piped in with curiosity.

“Jared, our housekeeper. What if he calls back, should I answer?”

“No!” Loqi interjected quickly. “Though, why did you call him of all people?”

“I can’t call my dad or anyone else at the citadel they’d be overheard talking. I thought maybe Jared might have a little more privacy at the house. I’m also hoping he only tells my dad I called. That might help us when we arrive.”

As they continued on, the wooded area near the wall gradually faded out to reveal the city. The people and traffic increased as they neared the city center. Unable to keep quiet for any longer Gladio blurted what was on his mind. “How did we get through with all your weapons?”

This time it was Luna who spoke up. “They retrofitted the car before we left, to hide them in the undercarriage. You were sleeping so you didn’t notice.”

“We may need to retrieve them before we reach the citadel,” Ravus announced. “That phone call had to have alerted someone to our presence in the city, even if this Jared only alerted your father.”

“It’ll be damn near impossible to get into the citadel if we show up visibly armed!” Gladio huffed as he leaned back into the seat. “Shouldn’t we come up with a plan to get inside first?”

Aranea spoke up before the others could respond. “We risk the traitor moving first so we have to act now and see how far we get.”

“This is stupid, I’ll get taken away to the doctor’s and you’ll all get locked up, except Luna,” sighed Gladio in frustration. “I thought you all had this worked out?” He fumed.

“We do have it worked out!” Ravus shouted. “We knew it would be trouble trying to gain entry so the best choice was to show up unexpected.”

“Unexpected is one thing,” Gladio snarled, “uncoordinated is quite another.”

“Can we stop fighting?” Luna begged. “Gladio please, they’ve been trying to work things out, trust me. You’ve been passed out for most, if not all of the conversations.”

“Didn’t you all think that it might be helpful to get an insider opinion? Nobody believed I have anything of value to add?”

“There wasn’t time!” Ravus enthused as he briefly turned to face him. “Gladio, time is not on our side, you must know this. The traitor has to know what we are up to and now their suspicions have been confirmed.”

“You don’t know that! Jared’s phone might not have been tapped.”

“Come on big guy, you know that isn’t how it works. Think ahead.” Loqi quipped.

“So we seriously have no other choice but to go driving up to the gate?”

“The traitor will act, no matter what we do.” Ravus added solemnly. “It’s best we make an appearance and work to shed light on the truth of the matter.”

“If we’re going into a trap I still don’t see why I can’t call my dad.”

“What if the traitor acts and makes an attempt on the king all because we called ahead.”

“You didn’t care about Regis yesterday I don’t see why you’re so concerned now.” Gladio grumbled.

Ravus growled in response and hit the side of the door with his fist. “Pull over! We’re dropping Gladio off. Then you can call whomever you like.”

“No!” Luna shouted. “That’s not fair! If you leave him I’m staying with Gladio.”

“Like hell you are!” Ravus yelled. “I didn’t risk everything just to leave you behind on the six damned street!”

The car fell into silence after Ravus’ outburst. Loqi even seemed startled by the turn of events, and simply drove on with his hands white knuckled on the steering wheel. Gladio was paying attention to the route and was surprised when Loqi kept making all the correct turns to get them to the citadel. Maybe they had planned something while he’d been recovering.

Now, all he wanted to do was get away from them all and see his family. The tension had reached an all-time high and Gladio didn’t know what would happen when they reached the main gate.

“I want my pole arm.” Aranea firmly announced once the towers of citadel came into view.

“How are you going to hide it inside the vehicle?” Gladio asked with worry.

“It breaks down, I’ll leave it on the floor boards until I need it.”

That didn’t sound very promising. Aranea was already planning on fighting. Gladio couldn’t do anything to stop her; he still had no strength and was too weak to access the armiger. Choosing to stay silent he sank further into the seat and started to fret.

No one else offered any comments or arguments so Loqi pulled over into a nearly empty parking lot after a minute. He put the car in park and waited as Aranea removed their weapons from underneath. Ravus got out and retrieved his sword. It fit neatly in between the seat and center console. Aranea true to her word dismantled her weapon and placed it on the floor boards. Once everyone was back inside and the doors were all slammed shut Loqi drove off again. Gladio could feel his heart hammering as they approached the citadel. What had seemed like an impossible dream was becoming reality. However, the outcome wasn’t guaranteed and he was getting scared that something truly horrible might happen.

The looming shadow of the building soon engulfed the car as they got closer. Loqi somehow knew to avoid the main gate and instead went to the service entrance. Luna had been correct, they’d been planning ahead. Gladio didn’t realize he was shaking until the car turned down the access road. Soon there would be no turning back.

Loqi already had the window rolled down when he drove up. Leaning down to catch a glimpse of the guard revealed Gladio didn’t know him. That was either going to be a blessing or a curse. Before Gladio could register what was happening Loqi had begun talking to the man.

“We demand an audience with the king. We are seeking asylum from Niflheim. Please inform his majesty that we are traveling with the prince’s shield Gladiolus Amicitia.” Loqi moved slightly and indicated behind him in the back seat.

The guard leaned down and blinked slowly. “ID’s please.” He croaked out after a second.

Gladio could tell from Ravus’ shocked expression that they weren’t expecting that response. Loqi cleared his throat and clumsily went to grab the stack of documents they’d already compiled from the check point at the wall. The guard took them and disappeared into this little hut.

“There is no way in hell they are gonna just open the gate for us.” Loqi breathed out tersely.

“What if they do? Then what?” Gladio asked. He knew there was a second gate to get through after this one. The security system in place included a moat of sorts around the perimeter. Two tall fences with barbed wire atop running alongside each other. The middle section had a single lane access road. This was their first obstacle.

Aranea answered after a beat, “you tell them we rescued you and not to kill us.”

“I don’t know if tha --.”

“Shut up he’s coming back!” Ravus hissed.

The guard came up and handed the documents back. “You’ve been cleared to go through, please wait at the second gate for an escort.” The man said nothing further and simply walked away as the heavy metal door in front of them suddenly began ratcheting open.

“Do I go in?” Loqi asked quietly. “Once this gate closes behind us escape becomes exponentially harder.”

“We can’t very well drive away now Loqi,” Ravus grumbled. “The next gate is right there anyway, let’s go see if they will let us in.”

“Fine.” Loqi replied with a frown. The car slowly crawled forward and jostled as it went over the speed bump at the gate. “Shit, they have the traffic spikes installed under here. I can’t go back even if I tried, the tires would pop.”

“Just drive forward and stop panicking.” Aranea ordered.

“I’m not panicking!” Loqi hissed. “I’m merely working to plan our escape should it be needed. They’ve even got concrete barriers up on either side.”

“Not everywhere,” Luna offered as she pointed to a missing section on their right.”

“Something’s wrong,” announced Ravus. “Where are the other guards, I don’t see any other people at this next gate.”

“They said there would be an escort though,” Luna commented with concern. “Why would he lie?”

“If it was a trap.” Aranea groaned.

Loqi suddenly became very animated. “No, no, no it can’t be!” He uttered in shock. “That can’t be true. There is no way that asshole is him.”

“What are you going on about?” Ravus insisted as he leaned over to stare out the window at what Loqi was looking at.

“Gladio! How far does this no man’s land between the gates stretch?!” Loqi asked hurriedly.

“Up to the main gate about 800 yards away, why?” Gladio didn’t get an answer as Loqi violently threw the car into reverse. They were all thrown forward as he gunned the engine. “What are you doing?!” Gladio shouted.

“I saw him!” Loqi screamed. “The other fucking bad guy, I fucking saw him!” He was frantic as he maneuvered the car away from the gate house.

“We can’t go back! The spikes will wreck the tires.” Aranea yelled.

“I’m not going straight back!” Loqi spit out as he turned sharply to fit in between gap in the barriers Luna had noticed earlier.

Gladio was about to tell him he was crazy when movement behind the guard tower caught his attention. The hulking figure of the captain of the guard soon came into view. “That’s captain Drautos he’s a good guy!” tried Gladio as he held onto the seat.

“He’s a captain?!” Loqi wailed, “Dear six no wonder you all didn’t notice.”

“He’s not a bad guy!” Gladio yelled again.

“That’s Glauca! He’s the ultimate bad guy!”

“Guys they have a car and are chasing us!” Aranea exclaimed with wide eyes while pointing out the window.

Loqi hadn’t noticed since he was facing the wrong way to drive. He turned and yelled loudly. The car jerked as he worked to maintain control. Spinning around once more he began driving faster. “We need to get the hell outta here, he’s gonna murder us all.”

“How do you know it’s him?!” Ravus asked as he worked his sword out from in between the seat.

“I know I saw him once talking to the emperor!” Loqi breathed out in a rush. “It was an accident, he had his helmet off, and it didn’t click until I saw him now. But that’s not important right now guys! Help me get outta here!”

Gladio was thinking fast, it’d been a long time since he’d been out on this side of the citadel. The next gate Loqi was speedily approaching would have the same traffic spikes. Maybe if they got into the main grounds they could get to the king before Drautos got to them. He was about to offer up the idea when a blue flash off to the side caught his attention.

It was actually two blue flashes, one slightly behind the other. Gladio recognized the first blue blur as the slightly hunched form of his friend. The crown prince of Lucis was currently warping like a madman towards their car.

“Aranea open your door!” Gladio demanded.

“Wha?”

“Just do it!!” He yelled.

Thankfully she wrenched the door open just in time. The prince had managed to clear the fence and was now next to the car. Gladio could see him struggling to keep up. Consecutive warps were exhausting and he was surprised Noct was still able to stay with them. Leaning back out of the way proved the right choice as a sword came whizzing by his head as second later.

The overwhelming surge of emotion that hit Gladio next was surreal. There, trembling in his arms and sprawled across the seat was Noct, in the flesh and blood. Without a second thought he hugged him fiercely. The prince wasn’t able to communicate clearly but he at least was able to hug back.

“Th--thought you were dead!” Noct managed to gasp in between breaths as he rested limply in Gladio’s arms.

“I’m okay.” He choked out. The heartfelt moment was immediately shattered when Ravus shouted a frantic warning. Gladio barely had time to react when the car swerved violently and slammed into something. Holding onto Noct with one arm, he reached out and hugged Luna close with the other. Gladio was disoriented and could only do what he knew best.

Shield.

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#ffxv #fanfic #gladio

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