#next chapter has some action though lol

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHTEEN

in which eddie shows you deftones, texts are missed and calls are answered, and lines are crossed once more for good measure.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, light dry humping?, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

18:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

Steve-O: rise and shine, campers! time to get back at it with these wellness checks. gonna need some proof you two are still alive.

HOUR EIGHTEEN - 9:00 AM 

Eddie’s eyes narrow in concentration at your phone as his thumbs fly across the screen, navigating the Spotify app with ease to find the Deftones song he specifically wants. He doesn’t do as you had and go to their artist page – he searches with purpose, in no mood to scroll through albums to find the song he’s looking for. 

“I still don’t understand how you can type so fast,” you mumble, watching with fascination that you try to tamper down with faux boredom, “Even I can’t type that fast, and I own the damn thing.” 

He doesn’t even glance up as he scrolls along the screen, finding the song and clicking on it, “I’m just good with my fingers.” 

There it goes. The air from your lungs, once again vacating the premises as he freezes beside you. 

It isn’t fair. An internal whine that nearly works itself up your throat and out your mouth, making you want to stomp your feet like a child. You hadn’t even recovered from the casual drop of baby yet. And now he’s going to just say that? 

“Oh, God, I-” he’s looking up finally, eyes wide and stuttering with embarrassment, “Fuck, I swear to God, I did not mean that as an innuendo.” 

You open your mouth. You close it. You repeat the process. You’re fucking speechless and it’s a little bit embarrassing. 

“I’m serious!” he persists when you don’t reply, and only stare at him in continued shock, “Seriously! I- Fuck, I was referring to with my job. At the autoshop. I’m- Fuck,” he cuts his explanation off, dragging a hand over his face and falling back into the couch, “Kill me. Kill me now, please – and be sure to make it quick and painless, pretty please.” 

You finally laugh. It’s a bit choked, a bit strangled, but it instantly has Eddie lowering his hand. 

“I think if we were going to kill each other, Munson, it would have happened hours ago,” you try to tease him, but something about the sentiment comes out far softer than you intended. Like it’s not a joke. Like, in your own odd way, you’re trying to whisper a truth to him – everything has changed for me now. 

“Probably,” he sighs, relaxing a bit and leaning back beside you as he looks to the phone once more and clicks on a song, “Proba-fucking-ly.” 

For the first two songs, there is a distance to be kept between the two of you. You peek at the screen and catch the titles – Cherry Waves and Sextape – and make a mental categorization of which one you enjoy more. You nearly audibly snort at Sextape, but manage to keep your immature humor to yourself. You prefer Cherry Waves, anyways. 

  The songs that follow become a bit of a blur. Because for the first two, the distance existed. You can focus on the guitar and the vocals and the bass drum and everything except the man sitting beside you. But then song three comes on. 

Fucking song three. You don’t catch the name, but it might be your favorite yet. Or you might be biased. 

Because it’s during this third song that something changes. Eddie is no longer content in just leaning back beside you, in letting you consume the new music in a sort of solitude that was impressive to achieve when not actually alone. You first notice his restlessness in the bounce of his knee, shaking beside yours as he finally puts the phone down on the coffee table rather than balanced on his thigh. You don’t comment on it, you let it slide. You faux indifference. But then, the flexing of his hand starts.

It’s odd. Sure, plenty of people mess with their hands in relation to nerves, but you’ve never seen it happen like that before. The slow stretch of him pushing his fingers to their limits before retracting them, bending his knuckles as he tucks the tips in. The veins along the top of his hand popping exceptionally. 

“I’m just good with my fingers.”

I fucking bet he is. 

You curse yourself for the warmth that burns in the pit of your stomach. Focus. You should be focusing on the music, on taking in what he’s sharing with you. 

Not on his hands. Specifically his fingers, and how good they’d feel-

Fucking stop it. Cut it out. No. 

It takes an ungodly amount of willpower for you to look away, but you manage it. Unfortunately, what you don’t manage to do is ignore the bouncing of his leg. You don’t manage to extinguish that burning that he’s begun in you — a fire started from his kindle. 

Impulsive. Impulsive, and a little stupid, and endlessly daring. That’s what it is when you finally reach out a hand to land on his knee midsong. 

The shaking immediately ceases, and you take over the soothing motions as you let your thumb initially rub in arcs against the side of his thigh. With each strum of the guitar that rings out, you let your thumb complete its semicircle motion. With each pounding of drums, you give a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t say a word about it, and neither do you. Especially when he drops his hand over yours, wiggling his fingers between yours with the failure of a casual grace. You try not to smile as you flip your hand and let him properly intertwine them.

Flexing, but this time, it’s to squeeze your palm to his. You still think about those goddamn fingers.

“So, what do you think so far?” Eddie asks after he clears his throat.

“They’re good,” you nod, finding yourself shuffling subconsciously closer to him now that he’s gripping onto your hand, “Really good.” 

“I’m just good with my fingers.”

You know that he’s more than just good. Just like Deftones, you’d dare say he’s really good. 

The song switches, and both of you have scooted close enough to one another that your thighs press together. Shoulder to shoulder, sharing enough space to feel his breath on the side of your bare neck. 

His grip on your hand tightens.

You want the opposite. You suddenly want his hand to detach from yours and to find home on your cheeks, hands on either side of your face before he’s pulling you into him, throwing caution and formality to the wind. You two have already crossed that line; why was it so hard to take that leap once more? 

The song is still playing. You don’t recognize the tinny guitars that are on the loop of repeating the same notes, an echo effect of sorts layered over them. 

It’s just the guitar. And suddenly, the rasps of Eddie’s breaths are something your acutely aware of. Like he’s closer, like he’s letting his head tilt even closer to you. You feel that heat transferring between your biceps that are smashed together, not even thin layers of t-shirt or the sleeve of the crew neck able to stop it. 

It all happens suddenly.

The guitar pauses and Eddie’s hand loosens in yours. Your heart races, and you realize you’re preparing yourself for what he’s doing before he’s even sprung into action. 

Kiss me, the sigh you let out whispers.

It’s answered by the song, and by Eddie. A combination of the two that you can’t differentiate. 

The silence in the song is cut off by whimpers. One from the lead singer on the track, one from Eddie. Both breathy, both shakey, both whispering of the loss of control.

“Fuck it.”

Two words. He says those two words again as his warning before he lets go of your hand and is reaching up, shifting your two bodies impossibly quick as his hands do exactly as you had craved. One on each cheek, and then he does it.

He kisses you.

It is neither kind nor gentle, despite the allusion that it might have been from the way he cradles your cheeks. The callouses on his fingers scrape your cheeks, you can feel every crack in his bottom lip as it slots between your own. It’s easy and quick work, the way your mouths can mold together so effortlessly. Tongues that were once so sharp as they’d spit venomous words at once another now meet and pass over teeth, blurring the lines of where you end and he begins — of where hatred ended and this began. 

Whatever it is, whatever it will be for these last few hours, whatever it will be once the clock runs out, you’re grateful. You, your vinery, your civility — they all scream their prayers of thanks as his hands drop from your cheeks and find your hips. You don’t even process that he’s tugging you onto his lap or that you’re letting him until it’s happened. Your thighs bracket his own hips, and he gives you no time before he’s pressing your full weight into him, hands clawing at you, desperate to keep you close. 

You can’t even hear the song anymore over the roar of your own heart.

“Baby,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you realize now what the price is. 

The price is your sanity. The price is a loss of control, and letting him consume you whole. A small price in the grand scheme of it all.

“I-“ you start a sentence that you have no idea of what the ending would be, but he interrupts with his mouth. The teeth your tongue had once met bite down on your lip and you swear you taste blood, swear you see crimson as he sighs out again into your open mouth. 

His hands guide your hips against his. A steady rhythm, and with only a few passes, you can feel him harden against you. Your pace picks up of your own doing, the friction of your panties and his pajama pants nudging your clit and leaving you breathless. 

What the fuck are we doing?

You should stop it. You should mind the delicate balance you two have been trying to achieve since you first crossed this line. 

You only push down harder on him, only bite down on his lip as he had yours. This time, blood might have honestly been drawn — the hiss that escapes him says it all. 

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he chastises you between kisses, “You want to know what was fucking wrong earlier? You. You are driving me insane, you are driving me straight into the fucking grave.” 

Oh.

Oh.

The way he had leapt up. His nervous energy. The way he had put as much space between the two of you as possible.

“I affect you that much?”

It is not a confident question — you completely pull away from him, leaning back as you breathe it out, hands finding home on his shoulders as you survey him.

He’s being honest. 

His pupils are wide but those brown, doe eyes have softened as they meet your gaze. His chest is heaving, his lips are already bruising pink as they fall apart so casually. 

He’s being honest. 

You affect him, you’re doing this to him — he’s caught up in flames, no sign of salt water in sight. 

“You always do,” he says, “Always have. Probably always will.” 

Your grip on his shoulders tighten. 

I could never hate you. 

How blind you had been. How absolutely, blissfully unaware you had been functioning all these months. 

A hand trails from its grip on his shoulders, fingers slipping over his bare collar bone, “What do you mea-“ 

You don’t get to finish the question or dig any deeper into the revelation. The music both of you had long since abandoned has been replaced by the ringing of your phone.

Eddie’s eyes immediately pinch shut, face twisting with irritation. You can’t tell if he’s more annoyed at the interruption due to whatever breakthrough you two were on the precipice of, or because he’s still painfully hard beneath you. But he quickly wraps one arm around your waist, tugging your torso flush to his as he leans forward quickly and reaches out to grab your phone. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” he huffs once his eyes are open again and he’s looking at your phone screen.

Your face has been pressed into the crook of his neck due to the current position and way he’s tightly holding you to him. You have no clue who it is, but you have five decent guesses to throw out. 

He answers for you. Sharply and bitterly, he snaps out a, “What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve. One of the five guesses. Go figure.

“Yes, we’re fucking alive,” Eddie holds no patience for your friend, all the softness he’d held for you gone save for the stroke of his thumb against the bare small of your back, “We were-“ 

A pause. You wonder for a second if he is going to admit it. If right here, right now, he would confess to your friends what has happened. How he could never hate you, how you drive him insane, how by nothing changing that everything has changed.

“Sleeping.” 

An answer to your question. You hate your disappointment, and bite it down with vengeance. 

You can faintly hear Steve’s voice over the phone, not quite as trilling or pitched as Nancy’s or Robin’s. Eddie’s annoyance still rolls off of him in waves, and you imagine that you’d catch him rolling his eyes along with his little huffs of air if you were to finally lift your head from his neck. But you’re selfish, and his arm is still around you waist as it presses you tight to his chest, so you indulge yourself. You dig your nose deeper against the junction of his neck, you take in his lingering cologne and let the stray curls tickle your cheeks. 

You should have known he wouldn’t admit it.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie grumbles into the phone, barely getting out the repetitive word before his breath hitches as you pucker your lips against the skin you’ve been burrowing into. It’s only a chaste kiss, but it has its desired effect, “Okay, Harrington. We’ll send a fucking photo. You done?”

Then it hits you. A fun game, a distraction from your disappoint and a way to crawl under his skin all in one. You fight hard not to let a smile spread at the risk of him feeling it against his neck as you take a deep breath in through your nose, noticing the way his shoulder nearly reflexively lifts slightly as if it tickles, because you’re puckering your lips again.

The second chaste kiss is testing the waters. He doesn’t react. And so you go forth with your plan, mouth falling open, teeth grazing his jugular.

He reacts microscopically. His chest halts movement.

It’s not enough for you.

So you suck. Hard. Puckered lips and a vendetta to prove, you let your teeth bite at the skin that sucks into your mouth. 

That does the trick.

“O-Okay!” he yelps out in surprise, his hand bruising as he grips you harder. He tries to pull his neck back from you, but his hand only presses you down onto his lap and you feel his dick twitch beneath his thin pants, “Christ, Harrington. We fucking get it. We’ll send a photo. And we won’t sleep another wink, so bite me,“ he pants out as you move to the spot beneath his ear, finding where his jaw connects to his throat, repeating the process and doing exactly as he had told Steve. His hips buck up into you, “Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harrington. Bye.” 

You’re grinning wildly against his ear as he tosses your phone carelessly somewhere on the couch — or maybe the floor, you couldn’t tell at this point — before he’s flipping you down onto your back on the couch and hovering over you.

Your head falls back instinctually, leaving your neck open for him to begin an assault of kisses.

“Are-“ A kiss. “You-“ A bite. “Fucking-“ A soothing lathe of tongue over the bite. “Kidding-“ A harsh suck. “Me.”

You writhe beneath him, but he’s pressing his entire weight down onto you, hips slotted between yours and one hand  pinning both your wrists to the cushion above as the other stays glued to your waist. 

“Did you think that was funny?” he breathes out against you, letting the tip of his nose barely graze over the base of your throat, “Doing that shit while I was trying to talk Harrington down from that damn ledge?” 

“Why was he on the ledge to begin with?” you breathily question, trying to move your hands from his grasp, the urge to run your fingers through his curls growing. He only tightens his hold.

“Apparently,” he pauses and presses a quick kiss at the edge of the sweatshirt collar, looking up at you through his bangs and lashes, “He had texted, and we didn’t respond. Photos are back in demand.” 

“We’re quite the commodity,” you try to joke, avoiding his gaze. Trying to avoid the softness buried deep inside there, all soft and melted in shades of brown, “We should start charging them.” 

“We are charging them, technically,” he snorts, finally letting go of your wrists and leveling his face above yours.

Right. You keep forgetting the promise of a cash prize if you make it out of this alive. 

Alive, not unscathed. 

You’re already picturing that cash as blood money, some pathetic trophy that won’t even begin to cover the irreversible scars that will be left behind. All the hurt, all the fights, all the realizations — no amount of promised money can erase them.

You start to consider what could erase them, but you stop yourself when you realize that that admittance is too heavy. 

He’s here. The weight of him is pressing into you, the smell of him is encasing you, and the stare of his big brown eyes is locking you in. You have him. For a few more hours, you have him.

The wounds can wait. The time to heal and scar over will come later.

“I guess they are, huh?” you laugh when you realize you’ve gone too long without replying. 

The stare turns curious. Still melted chocolate, still deathly soft for you, but curious all the same. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” 

You’re about to retreat into your own head and consider what he might do with his share of the cash, but that voice in your mind whispers once more.

He’s here. You have him. Just ask him.

“What are you doing with your money?” you blurt out. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, curls falling over his shoulders and creating a curtain as he continues to balance his weight on his forearms settled on each side of your head, still hovering over you.

You should probably comment on that. Make a snide remark about it. Shove him off.

You don’t.

“Is that really want you’d like to talk about right now?” 

Right, the weight of his hips as he rolls them gently into you reminds you of what the two of you had been doing before the phone call. The boundaries you’d hopped right over, all the lines you two had been in the process of crossing.

The affect you have on him.

Your stomach twists and suddenly your legs fall open wider to welcome him in, only to wrap them up around his waist. He lets you, lets you pull him right in until your chests are flush to each other. The only thing separating your skin from his is this damn sweatshirt. 

“I… Maybe,” you force out just before his lips capture yours. It’s not as urgent as when he’d pulled you in for a kiss to Deftones, but it’s still enough to shatter every bone in your body before melding them all back together into something new, something different.

Something changed. 

Eddie smiles, and it’s almost shyly. “Maybe?”

You hum, but it’s cut off, caught in your throat with another roll of Eddie’s hips. 

“Okay. Let’s talk about it then, sweetheart.” 

Another roll of his hips, and you lift your own to meet the thrust this time, trying to catch him against you in a way for reprieve. You can feel the wet patch gathering on your panties, your thighs clenching onto his hips harder. 

“What ever shall I do with my money?” he pretends to ponder, eyes shooting up to look away from you in faux contemplation. 

As he does it, one of his hands wander over your sternum, dancing above the fabric of the borrowed clothes. 

“Maybe I’ll buy a new bike,” he muses, the hand wandering lower, tracing a steady line down your abdomen, “Maybe I’ll get myself a new guitar.” 

His hand has reached the hem of the sweatshirt, slips beneath it and plays with the edge of your panties. 

Your mouth will be your damnation as you snipe back, “Or maybe you can buy yourself a whole collection of playboys, filled with plenty of models who definitely don’t look like someone you claim to hate.” 

His hand retracts immediately, and you can’t help but begin to giggle.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you start to gasp out when he lifts away from you, reaching out to grab onto him. 

He’s fast, but your hands are quicker. You wrap them around the back of his neck and tug him into you, only for him to continue to lift himself up and bring you with him as well this time. 

You resemble a koala, and can only imagine what the scene looks like to an outsider. 

“Eddie!” you practically squeal, and can feel the vibrations of his own laughter as he sits up on his knees, you still clinging to him.

His arms wrap around you and you lean back, catching that mischievous glint in his eyes. It breaks through the softness, burns brightly in your chest as your laughter fades into soft breaths that hit his freckled cheeks.

You stare at each other for a moment, a tangle of limbs and unspoken words. His earlier admission isn’t forgotten, the lines crossed all painted in red now.

He’s here. You have him, for now. 

You can only imagine the claw marks you will be leaving behind when the clock strikes twenty four hours, and you’re forced to leave him and this behind. 

“You, sweetheart,” he finally breaks the silence with gentle smirk, “are a certified boner killer.” 

You don’t miss a beat, reaching down between you two, hand cupping his still prominent erection, “You sure about that?” 

He only groans in response, and in your following cackles, your hold on him slips. 

He could have let you fall back roughly on the couch, especially given his distraction with fighting his ever growing smirk. He could have let you smack your head back on the cushion and let you deal with the dull ache that would have followed. He could have, he could have, he could have.

He doesn’t. 

He guides you back with his arms still tight around you. Makes sure that you land softly against the worn plush. Takes his time removing his grip on you before he’s standing up from the couch.

You lay back, so sincerely content as you let out a final breath of a laugh and watch him shake his head in amusement as he turns to leave. 

“Where are you going?” if it weren’t for the residual giddiness of the moment, you’d have been embarrassed by the clinginess that had threaded its way into your tone.

“The bathroom,” he answers without hesitation, back facing you as he starts down the short hall.

You call after him, “Okay. Don’t take too long this time!” 

Even as his laughter echoes faintly, you know you still have him. For now.

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#twenty four hours #my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #i may have hyped this one up a little too much #next chapter has some action though lol

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (04)

chapter four: spring daffodils

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; a creepy dude but nothing happens, err this chapter is pretty mild? idk, not very edited (i apologize, i just live like this lol) word count: 3.5k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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It was bittersweet You were like a dream And I was your girl on the passenger seat Right next to you We were unstoppable We thought we had it all

I’d Do It Again - Violette Wautier

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Minho’s arms, wrapped tightly around you. Your face in the crook of his neck, your legs tangled up together. It’s as though this is your millionth morning waking up with him.

He’s still fast asleep, soft puffs of air escaping his lips. So peaceful, so ethereal with the light from outside your window shining on his side profile.

He looks like an angel, absolutely unreal, that you can’t help but admire him. How the playful sunshine kisses his sculpted nose, caresses his cheeks, its particles of light lingering on his pink and pouty lips. Every feature, every single detail of his face, beautiful. Sharp, stunning, flawless. The universe really took its time with him.

You'd say that this is a pretty objective opinion. Ask anyone and they would concur. You don’t think you could ever get tired of looking at Minho.

There’s a sudden urge that grows in you - the selfish need to be the sun itself. You want to be the sun, to be the reason why there’s warmth and light in his life, to give him nothing but good things, nothing less than what he deserves.

Your axis shifts. It’s overwhelming just how much you want to be good for him.

Minho is supposed to be your friend.

You don’t think you’re supposed to feel this way about your friend.

The beautiful boy next to you stirs, and you instantly shut your eyes. You wait as he stretches a bit, then he holds you tighter, closer, the proximity making tears well up behind your closed eyelids. It’s so nice just being in his arms like this. So wonderful and so right.

You feel loved, even if it may not be the kind of love that you’ve been searching for.

A gentle hand strokes your hair, and just that simple action is enough to make you melt, a tightness tugging at your heartstrings all of a sudden.

If Minho was a season, he would be spring. Beautiful and heavenly spring. Some may argue that it can’t possibly be the case because people often view him as callous and mean, and you hate it every time anyone speaks about him that way. They don’t know him like you do, and he’s been nothing but warm and kind to you for as long as you’ve known him.

To be more precise, Minho would be the onset of spring, when the brutal and lonely winter eventually has to make way for the beginning of a new season. It’s a subtle transition, a gentle inauguration of warmth where the earth welcomes life into its open arms again. When daylight starts to last longer and snow begins to melt in between cobblestone cracks. When buds on trees start growing into their luscious green coat and flowers slowly burst through their roof of soil to bring forth colors for spring. Everything is soft and delicate, easy to overlook if you don’t pay close attention.

That’s what Minho is to you - a new beginning. Calming, welcoming, steady.

You want to snuggle further into the heat of his body but you’re afraid it might blow your cover, so you keep on staying still. He’s close, closer than you two have ever been when you aren't having sex, but it’s not enough. If it was possible, you would wrap you and him up in your own little bubble where the concept of time is foreign and you could stay here forever. You wouldn’t have to go back to your boring routine and deal with the stresses that you’ve been carrying all your life.

It’s like a switch has been flipped. You want more. It’s a fleeting thought, but the imprint it leaves behind isn’t ephemeral at all.

A simple life with Minho and the spring. That doesn’t sound too bad.

Min: wyd tomorrow afternoon? You: i have to go buy paint after class. Why? Min: can i come with :(  You: u wanna go look at paint with me for 2 hrs? Min: no lol Min: i cleared my whole afternoon because kim seungmin asked me to go suit shopping with him for his sister’s wedding but he’s ditching me, so i have no idea what to do Min: you’re my last option You: thanks. i’m v flattered You: hyunjin refused to entertain you? Min: don’t like him You: 🙄 You: chan? changbin? jisung? jeongin? lix? there’s no way they’re ALL busy Min: i didn’t ask. don’t like them either You: so i’m not your LAST option then Min: no. but you’re the only one i’d rather hang out with You: you’re weird Min: so tomorrow? You: the store is a bit far away though Min: i can take you. i’ll borrow chan’s car

You assume that Minho would pick you up right after your class finishes since he told you that he was free all day, but you still end up having to wait for him while wandering aimlessly around campus, the messages that you sent him sitting in your phone delivered but not read.

He appears about twenty minutes later than you thought he would, rolling up in Chan’s new car that he just got a couple months ago. You get into the vehicle with an unimpressed look on your face, clicking the seatbelt into place before you turn to him in the driver's seat.

“Punctual,” you comment pointedly.

“Sorry. I went to that cafe you like but there was a line.”

“Oh,” you say, your earlier annoyance waning quickly when you notice the cup holders between the two of you. “Why did you go all the way there just for shitty matcha lattes? We could’ve just gone to the campus cafe for that.”

Minho grabs a paper bag from the backseat before he places it neatly in your lap like a little present. "But the campus cafe doesn’t have those overpriced croissants that you’re always raving about."

You stare at the baked good in your lap - an almond croissant filled with cream cheese and strawberries. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “But thank you.”

Minho looks at you. “You forgot to eat lunch again, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’re looking at that thing like you’re deeply in love with it.”

You roll your eyes before plucking a cream cheese-covered strawberry from the bag and taking a bite, dramatically throwing your head back as you sigh in exasperation, “I might be deeply in love with you right now.”

When you finish the strawberry, you turn to look at Minho, only to find him already staring at you with his sharp eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then brings a hand up to brush away a dot of cream cheese off the corner of your mouth. You half expect him to put the finger in his mouth like hot fictional characters tend to do, and yet, your cheeks still catch fire when Minho meets your expectation.

He catches sight of your flush but doesn’t throw you a teasing comment or anything of the likes. Instead, he just chuckles - a bit endeared if you can say so yourself - and starts the car.

Minho is gracious enough to let you choose the music for the drive and in turn, you offer him the last piece of your cherished croissant (everyone knows the last bite is the best bite), plopping the pastry into his mouth while he keeps his hands on the wheel, only for him to complain that it has too much cream.

When you get to the art supply store, Minho picks up a basket by the door. The store isn’t that big, but they have the best selection out of all the other places you’ve been. Hyunjin keeps telling you to come to the store that he frequents - the one that sells those fancy watercolors that you don’t really need - but you’ve been going here for ages. You used to live nearby so it was more convenient, but this is still your go-to spot even after you moved closer to campus. The sense of familiarity associated with this quaint store isn’t something you’re quite ready to let go of yet.

You peruse the aisles alongside Minho, who dutifully carries the basket for all of your things without you even asking. He doesn’t really try to make conversation while you study the colors, which is a little uncharacteristic but you don’t think much about it. He just quietly watches you, and you like how even the silence is comfortable between the two of you.

After a while, he asks, “Do you have a theme in mind?”

You do, but you think it’s a little silly to say out loud so you don’t. Although you know Minho would never make you feel small or diminish your ideas, it’s not something that you’re really keen on sharing at the moment.

“Kind of,” you say. “It’s not fully fleshed out yet. I know what colors I want to go for though.”

You meticulously pick out the acrylics you want for your painting, mostly dark and dull tones. You have a vision of what you want to achieve on the canvas, and you spend a decent chunk of time deciding on your blues, grays and russets.

A somber scene, anyone can tell.

For the finishing touch, you pick up two tubes of yellow paint, trying to decide between Golden Poppy or Spring Daffodil. Either one is a stark contrast to the melancholic feel you were going for before.

Turning to face Minho, you raise your hands. “Which one?”

He stares at the acrylics for a minute in silence. “They’re yellow,” he concludes.

“Duh. But which shade do you like better?”

“They look exactly the same.”

You purse your lips, then hold your hands closer to his face as if it’ll help. "No, look. This one is slightly lighter but muted. This one is more vibrant but the shade is deeper."

Minho hums as if in thought. You wonder if he actually sees the differences, but he probably doesn’t. Hyunjin is usually the only person in your friend group whom you can talk to about these things since he’s the only other art major of the bunch.

“Is yellow supposed to be happy?”

Hope, is what you want to say. You want it to end on a lighter, brighter note. Happy feels too unattainable even if it’s only ideals and colors on canvas.

But maybe sometimes being hopeful is the same as being happy. Maybe for some, that’s all you can really ask for.

In spite of it all, isn’t hope the only thing that persists?

“Sure,” you say, “yellow is happy.”

After a brief moment, Minho plucks the tube in your left hand and puts it in the basket. Spring Daffodil it is.

It’s kind of a nice thought, isn’t it? That Minho had a helping hand in your work. That there’s a little bit of him in your art.

You go to the cash register with a basket full of goodies, only to realize that you don’t actually have anything on you.

“Ah, crap,” you mutter, turning to Minho. “My wallet is in my bag. In the car.”

“I’ll get it,” Minho says, handing you the basket. “Be right back.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll just check something out over there.”

And then he’s off, the bell by the door ringing to announce his temporary departure. You wander over to a shelf in the corner where they store their brushes. There’s a filbert brush that you’ve been eyeing for a while.

You go over the selection, debating whether or not you should replace some of the brushes you have at home. Most of them are worn out; they’ve been with you for ages now.

You don’t notice the second chime of the bell, too immersed in studying the bristles, envisioning the strokes they would create on canvas.

You don’t pay attention to a voice talking to you either. That is, until a shoulder nudges yours and you find yourself looking up at an unfamiliar face.

Taking a step away from the stranger, you say, “Can I help you?”

The man doesn’t look like he’s your age, but he doesn’t look that much older either. Probably just by a few years. “I was just saying that filbert’s a good choice,” he chuckles.

“Oh, yeah.” You give him a small smile. “It’s a good brush.”

“Great for blending. It really makes the strokes stand out, y’know.”

“Mhmm. So I’ve heard.”

Glancing at the contents of your basket, he asks, “Are you working on a project?”

“Just something for a class.”

He hums in acknowledgment, to which you give him a nod in return. The conversation is short and awkward, as one can probably expect when they try to make small talk with a stranger over something as random as a paintbrush.

And especially when the recipient of said small talk is you, who’s been described on multiple occasions as “unapproachable” and “intimidating”.

That, and the fact that you suffer from a major case of resting bitch face and you’re not really keen on talking to strangers when you it’s not absolutely necessary.

You move to the next aisle, going back to look at the selection of colors from which you’ve already taken your pick earlier with Minho. You don’t need a second look, but it just feels a little weird to still be standing in the same corner with the man.

You think that it would be the end of your interaction, but then he moves along with you. He follows you as you walk, before soon obliterating any space between your body as he strides next to you, your arms brushing one another.

“I’ve actually noticed you in here a few times,” he says.

“Sorry?”

“I’ve seen you before.” This time, he tells you with a smile. “I just never worked up the courage to talk to you until today.”

It’s not a bad smile, nothing Joker-esque but the way he says it with practically no space at all between the two of you makes you a little squeamish.

You wonder what’s taking Minho so long.

“Oh,” you say, not really sure how else to respond, trying to shuffle away from him but there’s not much room to accommodate the both of you. “That’s... uhm, actually, could you-”

He gets the hint, but it’s not like you were trying to hide the discomfort on your face. He takes a couple of small steps back, which doesn’t really count as stepping out of your personal space but it’s a little better than before.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not coming on too strongly. You’re just... I think you’re really pretty,” he says with a small laugh, the kind that would be charming if real life was a romcom and you two were the main characters. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Thank you... uhm, I’m... flattered but I’m here with my boyfriend today.”

You can tell that the mention of a significant other throws him off, because he doesn’t exactly do a very good job at concealing his surprise.

“You usually go alone, though.”

Oh...?

Right. Definitely not a romcom.

You can’t help the slight frown that tugs on your brows upon hearing those words. If you were somewhat irritated before by a random stranger who can’t really take a hint, then that feeling is rapidly melting away to make space for a sense of unease that crawls up the back of your neck like a rogue spider.

You can normally handle mildly persistent guys who keep insisting on chatting you up, but you’ve never actually had someone drop a creepy line on you before.

In a place that you’ve frequented for years now.

You’re suddenly wildly grateful that Minho demanded to tag along today.

“My boyfriend is just getting some stuff from the car,” you settle on telling the man. “He’ll be right back.”

“Maybe I can keep you company while you wait.”

“Thank you but that’s not necessary.”

“Not even for a few minutes?”

“You really don’t have to do that. My boyfriend will be back any-”

Then you’re being pulled to the side, the abruptness of the moment briefly disorienting you that you almost lose your balance if not for the arm around your shoulder keeping you steady.

You glance up with widened eyes, though they soften after a couple seconds as relief washes over you. Minho leans down to kiss you before you can say anything; the only sound that escapes you is a surprised Oh! which he muffles with his lips.

“Sorry I took so long, baby,” he says once he pulls away. “My mom called to ask if we’re still coming over this weekend. You’re still up for Sunday, right?”

“Hmm?” You try to ignore the tingle in your lips and the spike in your heart rate, but you quickly blame it on the suddenness of his actions. “Yeah... yeah, Sunday’s good.”

Minho smiles softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly pressing another kiss to your cheek - for further emphasis, you suppose - before he turns his attention elsewhere.

His expression changes completely. Instead of a cute smile, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, his gaze a cold glare. “Can we help you?”

The man doesn’t instantly back off like you thought he would - Minho can be quite scary when he wants to be - but glances between you and Minho like he’s assessing the situation.

The kiss, the arm around your shoulder, the deadly look in Minho’s eyes, plus your friend has been working out more often lately and it shows.

The unwanted stranger eventually raises a conceding hand. “Nope, all good. Sorry for bothering you,” he says, plastering that smile on his face again. “Have a good day.”

Minho takes the basket from your hand and steers you away. He keeps a hand on your back while you pay and collect your supplies at the counter. Basket duty turns into carrying the bag of acrylics for you even after you insist on doing it yourself.

Once you’re in the car, you turn to him with a grateful smile. “Thanks for the save.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “I’m sorry though. I was getting your bag and Hyunjin called screaming about something. I didn’t know you were stuck with a weirdo. What did he say?”

“I’ve never seen him before but he said he’s seen me around. He kept trying to talk me even after I said I had a boyfriend. And get this, he knows that I usually come here alone. I don’t know, I’m a little grossed out.”

Minho frowns. When he says your name, it’s full of concern. “He knows that you usually go alone? That’s creepy.”

“I know!” Leaning against the headrest, you sigh, “Ugh, this is where I always go to get my supplies.”

“Why don’t you just go to the place that Hyunjin goes? It’s close to campus.”

“But everything’s so overpriced there. Besides, they have the best selection here. It’s my go-to.’

He goes quiet then, and speaks up after a moment of contemplation. “Tell me whenever you need to go. I’ll come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” There must be incredulousness written all over your face, but his expression returns to neutral, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You know all of your friends are quite protective, but still.

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

“It’s not like you’re free all the time.”

Minho hums, acknowledging your point because it’s true. He has a life of his own and shit that he has to deal with; he can’t be around to babysit you 24/7. Not that you even need him to anyway. “If I can’t go then I’ll make sure Hyunjin goes with you. Or Jisung. Any one of the guys.”

“It’s not that big a deal.” You look at Minho, to which he just stares back. “I know I said today was weird but I’m not that helpless.”

“I know you’re not helpless.” He holds your gaze, briefly wondering if he has offended you somehow. “If you won’t do it for your sake, will you at least do it for mine? I don’t want you to be in a bad situation when I can help make it better for you.”

The tone he uses to deliver his words doesn’t really leave you any room to argue. You would probably just kinda look like an asshole to brush him off when all he genuinely wants is to ensure that you’re safe.

Eventually, you only purse your lips and nod, which seems to appease Minho for now. Of course you’re thankful that you have good people by your side. If the roles were reversed and this happened to any of your friends, you would be all up in arms for them too.

But way beyond that appreciation is something that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s similar to the feeling you got the first morning you woke up next to him. A fluttering sensation in your chest, warmly touched by how much he cares, how much he’s willing to do for you.

It’s simply absurd to you that anyone would think Minho is cold.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom (italicized = can’t tag)

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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.02.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho #fic: wishful thinking

[devilmen-collector]

WHB Theory: Vessels of God's Sinful Emotions

A theory I have after reading Chapter 5 and discussing with @sparkbeast20

This post ofc will contain spoilers up to Chapter 5 and religious theme

(God, please forgive me for writing this because I have to use Your name for PB's fictional version of You)

God possesses sinful emotions

Firstly, in Story 5-64, we have Bimet says God was greedy and jealous, meaning he had Greed and Envy, to which Glasyalabolas replies by saying God possessed other deadly sins as well, namely rage/Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, arrogance/Pride. He fails to mention Lust but we still don't know whether it has a deeper meaning or it's just Glasya is making examples and Lust just happens to not be in the examples listed.

Theory

I. God doesn't want these sinful emotions

My theory, God doesn't want the sinful emotions in him. There may be several reasons, maybe because he doesn't want sins, we all know too well why the Seven Deadly Sins are preached against and virtues are praised in real life, the consequences of the Deadly Sins are evil things such as murder, rape, oppression, corruption and many other evil actions. So God decided to keep the virtues within himself while removing the sins. But since those deadly sins are attributes of God, he couldn't just remove them and throw them away carelessly, he needed something to store them.

II. The 7 Kings were created directly by God, not through a pair of parents

We do know that devils don't give birth, but having their children made according to their likeness by Lilith. Even so, the devil child is considered children of the parents who requested Lilith to make a child. Some of the nobles have been proven to be born in this way (Andrealphus, Amon, Buer). Exception is the Unholyc, born through the union of Asmodeus and a human female, their case is procreation just like human.

However, my theory that I have been telling my friends since months before the game's release and the kings are created directly by God.

In Story 5-86, we have an NPC angel telling us about the rumors that subject no. 87 (Leviathan) was created carefully by God. My point here is why is this angel saying God "created it carefully", aren't all created by God? Why making the difference? So there are at least 2 different ways in which one is created by God. The superior one is that one's body and soul are both crafted by God directly. The inferior one is that one's body is created by God but indirectly through procreation of the parents (as in the case of human) or Lilith (as in the case of normal and noble devils), God only infuses the soul the moment life begins.

In Story 5-96, Valefor says that it's difficult to create a body equals or surpasses one that God created for Mammon. (My opinion: it's impossible lol). So Mammon's no different from Levi that he had his body created by God directly.

If it has been the case with two of the seven kings, I think it's safe to assume it applies to other kings too. Lucifer's a little different because he was an angel but since he was God's favorite Seraph, I think he falls into the same category of having the privilege of having God created his body directly.

Another proof is that you have never heard the kings mentioning a parent. For some of the nobles, their parents were mentioned (Buer, Amon, Andre, etc.) But for the kings, just no mention of parents at all (excluding Levi because he was kidnapped as a child), even though devils are immortal (they only die if they are wounded in a battle or a serious accident).

III. God created the 7 Kings for a very special purpose

The next question is why did God have to create them directly, different from all the others? It's understandable if they were the first generation demons whom God needed to create directly then let them make/give birth to the next generation, who would make/give birth the generation after that and so on. However, the kings are not first generation demons, there are demons who are older than them (Gusion is one example). So there must be a special reason why the kings got such a special treament.

Returning to what I was saying at the start, God wanted to remove the sins and he needed something to store the sins. And God, being the omnipotent Creator, he could create the solution himself by making 7 vessels to store the sins. And since demons/devils were made with evil attributes, the vessels were created living devils. And because they are devils keeping God's Deadly Sins inside, they are stronger than any other devils, and God made them kings. Remember the kings and the nobles keep saying they were chosen by God to be kings and nobles but they don't know why. I think the kings are appointed kings to hide the facts they are vessels storing God's Deadly Sins, this only God knows (perhaps Solomon too since God favors our peepaw).

In Lucifer's case, he was created an angel, yes, but remember, God can foresee the future. To explain it in religious term, God can see all the possibilities but he knows which possibility will become the future with 100% precision. God saw Lucifer falling and included him in the grand plan so he only needed to create 6 vessels more beside Lucifer (remember God had Sloth so it makes quick work for him).

IV. The kings are the original and only deadly sins

So that lets to another point of mine, which is the current 7 Deadly Sins are the original and only Seven Deadly Sins and kings of Hell. There is no king before them.

V. Sinful Divine Power

In Story 4-87, after hearing MC could die by Levi's hands, Satan gives in to his rage too much that it affects the surrounding environment, even nearly killing other devils, the only devil who isn't affected is Mammon, another king and Satan's equal.

Since the Deadly Sins came from God, if the kings don't or can't put their sins in check, they could bring disaster, even upon devils who they are supposed to protect.

VI. With Divine Power comes Divine Knowledge

Leraye tell us in the chatroom that only the 7 Deadly Sins know why God disappeared. It could be understood that God told the Sins why he had to go or they saw what happened to him. But I believe in another possibility. God disappeared mysteriously, no one knows where he has gone or why he disappeared, but since the 7 kings have with themselves the sinful attributes of God, they get a glimpse of divine knowledge on why God disappeared.

In the event "Where is Beelzebub?", Beelzebub says while Bael is sleeping about "things that are going to happen soon", which could be understood to be about MC/us. So how could he know that? I used to think Lucifer told him, of which I got the impression after knowing he owes Lucifer something. But could it be that he knows about MC from the Divine Knowledge in which he gets to participate. (Tbh, now I think about it, if Lucifer told him, then where did Lucifer get the info from, God doesn't seem like the kind to tell him, given how he let him fall, so Lucifer must have known it from the Divine Knowledge of his Pride too).

In conclusion, the 7 Deadly Sins are living vessels of God's sinful emotions. And thanks to that, they get access to powerful divine abilities.

That's all I'm able to put down from my brain for now. Please let me know what you guys think <3

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb theory #whb satan #whb mammon #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan #whb lucifer #whb theories

[exo-raskreia]

Thoughts & Speculations On Utahime In The Shinjuku Showdown Arc

WARNING: MANGA SPOILERS & HIGH LEVELS OF COPIUM

There are theories going around about Gojo's potential revival & subsequent defeat of Sukuna. Several are interesting & seemingly possible. However, I've hardly seen any involving Utahime & her potential role in all this. While I shouldn't be hoping for anything in this manga 😩, I couldn't help but get some ideas.

With some of the theories out there, I wouldn't want Gojo to sacrifice part of his power in order to come back. But who knows at this rate...? Would Gege let him come back even more powerful? Or only temporarily before losing all, half, or some of his power? I don't want him to lose an eye or something like that... 😮‍💨

Once he returns, what will be the next step to defeat Sukuna? Gojo may get a new power-up or even has something else up his sleeve that he hasn't revealed yet.

This is why I wonder if Utahime could still have a role to play in this arc. She's the only character involved who hasn't gotten a flashback yet with, or in regards to, Gojo. She hasn't even spoken a word! Does this mean anything? Is Gege withholding something important? Will it come into play at all?

She's barely had any screen/panel time & was absent for 3 arcs spanning several chapters since Shibuya. Gege finally revealed her CT for the biggest fight of Gojo's life against the King of Curses. She helped Gojo achieve 200% Hollow Purple along with Gakuganji, while Ijichi hid them from Sukuna's view with a barrier.

They really come in a set, don't they? Every one of her appearances is related to Gojo. She is bound to him. So you see, we may next see her whenever Gojo is about to, or has already, returned.

Neither her, Gakuganji or Ijichi have reappeared since.

It's been 20+ chapters now & we know nothing of their status. Is this the last time we'll see them, especially Utahime, in action? Do they still have another role to play? They have not been shown to be back with the others at HQ, which implies they're still out on the battlefield.

What have they been doing all this time? Watching the fight unfold? Is it just taking them a while to head back to HQ? Or could it be that they're potentially doing something important?

Chapter 244 showcased a flashback scene with the other characters having a meeting before the fight regarding the possibilities of Gojo's defeat. Neither GojoHime, Gakuganji or Ijichi were seemingly present.

Unless the two people behind Shoko here could be either of them? The one in black could be Gojo & next to him is Utahime, or could it be Gakuganji?

If not, this could imply they were doing planning of their own, maybe in a separate room. That planning is the key.

Clearly, GojoHime (& maybe Gakuganji) must've practiced the Hollow Purple throughout the weeks-long timeskip since Gojo's unsealing. But is that all they did? Is there something else that they planned? The fact they're not back at HQ could imply this. It almost seems deliberate that there's no involvement of them with the others... unless Gege really doesn't care.

Gojo told Sukuna at the beginning of their fight that he did some "special training."

What could this special training be? It hasn't been brought up again. Did it involve Utahime & maybe Gakuganji? This further showcases that Gojo's role isn't over yet.

Now, there are theories that Shoko may heal Gojo with her RCT. If so, could Uta help by buffing her to make it quicker & more effective?

We know so little about Uta's CT. Gege stated singing is a big part of it (unless it's just the chanting?). Could it be used for healing (kinda like Rapunzel from Tangled, lol)? What about offensive abilities? How else would she be a Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer if she can't fight on her own? Is it possible, though? We know she has good reflexes based on her encounter with Haruta at the Goodwill Event. Maybe she's good at hand-to-hand combat & wielding weapons? Heck, can she weaponize her voice like a siren?

When Uta buffs someone, does her cursed energy cover them like a blanket? Does it feel a certain way? Is it visible to other sorcerers or does it become one with the buffed person's own CE so that it's undetectable?

If her CE is visible, wouldn't Sukuna (especially as powerful as he is) have sensed it enmeshed with Gojo's? Instead, he thought Gojo's initial HP was a lot stronger than usual due to a Binding Vow (which we know Gojo didn't make) in chapter 234.

Since Ijichi made a barrier that hid him & the others from view, Sukuna doesn't know about them. If he couldn't sense Uta's CE, that could also mean she might not have been buffing Gojo after the HP. How long is her full range anyway?

Speaking of Ijichi, Gojo told him he had a monumental task in chapter 222 before the timeskip.

As then shown in a flashback in 223, it seems it was just to put up the barrier to hide them, Uta & Gakuganji from Sukuna.

Does this mean that Gojo planned their team-up that early after he got unsealed? 🤔 The flashback here has Gojo in casual wear & the place looks similar to the inside of the Tokyo Tower. Could this mean they were headed to Shibuya Sky, the top of the tower, to practice or simply strategize, & maybe meet up with Uta & Gakuganji?

Still, why did Gojo place such importance to this task? Was it just to establish the trust he has for Ijichi despite his antics?

Was it to keep Utahime safe? Not just about the barrier?

So, I've been having these questions for a while now. Here's where my delulu really kicks in.

Absolute insanity mode. You've been WARNED.

There are theories discrediting the fact Sukuna doesn't know about Uta's CT, that it's NOT why he thinks Gojo made a Binding Vow to achieve 200% HP. I know I'm crazy, but I think him not knowing could come into play.

Other than potentially helping Shoko heal Gojo, could Utahime have a hand in bringing him back? Maybe she could even buff Gojo's own RCT, in the case it's still activated (since Gojo's head's still intact). If Gojo is meant to be truly enlightened upon his return, almost like a god, then wouldn't Uta being a shrine maiden mean something? Shrine maidens dance for the gods, communicate with them, summon them.

DELULU THEORY 1:

This scene in chapter 222 made me wonder if Ino told Gojo about him witnessing the summoning of a dead person (which we know is Toji) in Shibuya, as there's been no follow-up to it yet...

If it's about Toji, did Gojo get the idea that in the case of him "dying", then his soul could be summoned back into his body? And with no side effects as it's his own body, and/or that as long as it's done immediately upon "death"? Is this something that could have been researched?

Since Ino knows a form of necromancy, could he possibly have a role to play in this as well? With his help, could Uta along with Gakuganji do a similar ritual as the granny who summoned Toji in Shibuya?

If Uta sings or chants for the ritual, could Gojo hear her in the limbo & follow her voice or something? Could she guide him north towards enlightenment, make him remember (or realize) who he is & what he has to do, in the case he's temporarily forgotten? 🫢 (delulu, I know, I KNOW 😩)

There's a song called North Wing by Akina Nakamori, the artist who sang Kinku, which is the song that Uta's CT is based on. It was her 7th single released the year after Kinku (7?! A number associated with Gojo?!). It was then re-recorded years later on an album titled 'Utahime Double Decade' (Akina is nicknamed Utahime, meaning Diva in Japan). The lyrics talk about a woman who boards a plane to meet with her lover. Here's an excerpt:

Love Is The Mystery It calls me Love is a mystery With its mysterious power I’m an Airplane, throwing everything away Like a scene out of a movie North Wing I depart all alone tonight For where he is Someone I once gave up on Teardrops, my heart’s punctuation I watch the city lights from above As they get smaller and smaller I take a midnight flight, chasing the night through the fog As if I were wandering through a dream Love Is The Mystery I spread my wings And cross the shining seas. I’m a little nervous The date paints over yesterday Which was nothing but agonizing for you The foggy city you live in Awaits me beneath the clouds

Let's see. If we see it in Uta's POV, then she might've thought loving Gojo was not worth it (as loving someone like him wouldn't be easy), but something happened that changed her mind, maybe before/during the time-skip, or seeing his "death." She could be headed to meet him, meaning to help him? It says at midnight, so could Gojo be revived the following day on Christmas? It mentions yesterday was agonizing for him, meaning his "death" & the fact of whose body/vessel he's fighting?

What if we low-key see it in Gojo's POV? His love for his students (and Utahime?) will make him choose North to return to them. He'll leave his past behind, making peace with it, & depart all alone, as the others in the limbo are going South. He knows everyone must be sad over his "death" (the 'agonizing' part) but he's coming home.

There is also a sequel song to this called Dramatic Airport - North Wing Part II. The lyrics are about a (the same?) woman on her way to meet up with her man at the airport, reuniting with him at night. So, could we see it as Utahime heading towards Gojo to help him, to be there for him on his 2nd awakening?

(There's this amazing theory here, which talks about the possibility of Utahime helping Gojo reach true enlightenment like Buddha's wife did for him in Buddhist myths.)

DELULU THEORY 2:

If Gojo returns through some other means, then that gives us another possibility. He's the only one who knows the location of Sukuna's last finger. What if Gojo had told its location to Utahime & co. (maybe even Ino)? What if their absence in the flashbacks of everyone else making plans is because they were retrieving the finger? And what would they do with it, you ask?

Could it be they had planned & are currently making the preparations for a ritual like the one I mentioned, in which they'll summon Sukuna into another vessel by using the finger? Or simply give it to someone to swallow? And could that vessel possibly be Yuuji, as he's the only one who can really handle harboring Sukuna?

It's scary to think of what this could mean, though... 😥 I will not delve into that.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Anyway, I know I'm fully delulu & may be burning the kitchen, but I just wanted to get this out there. The theories and speculations are rampant these days so might as well add some more to the bunch.

I know for Utahime, a literal side character, to have a major role in the most important fight of Gojo's life, is too much to hope for. Gege also doesn't have a good streak with giving importance to his female characters (except Maki). Then again...no one expected Utahime, after a long absence, to finally reappear with Gojo the chapter after he got unsealed & having her CT finally revealed for him against Sukuna. Just what is Gege trying to say?

Whatever the outcome, I still have so many questions...

What was Utahime even doing during her long absence since Shibuya? As the main teacher of Kyoto, & all these crazy things happening to her students, not a single peep from her?! Was she training?! Put under protection because of her CT or cuz Gojo would have their heads if something happened to her? Buffing people secretly somehow?

How did she end up teaming up with Gojo? Did he ask for her help, like when he did to investigate the traitor? What did he say? Did he finally fess up & tell her what she means to him? Gakuganji & Ijichi got their flashbacks, Gojo showing them his true feelings/thoughts, so what could this mean for Utahime?! That he trusts her too? That he doesn't find her weak? Did he apologize for his constant teasing? Could he have said something more?

Did she offer to help him? Did he refuse & Uta insisted, giving a sort of speech that shut him up?

Just what happened between Gojo & Utahime during the time-skip?! 😫 Is the fact we haven't been shown yet deliberate?!

I wonder if Gege will ever give us this much, at least... 😮‍💨

While I'd like for her to do more, I just hope Uta will be safe. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her like nearly every other female character in this manga... 😥

LET'S HOPE FOR GOJO'S REVIVAL ✊️

#gojohime #iori utahime #gojo satoru #gojo and utahime #jjk spoilers #jjk theory #sorry if these don't make much sense 😅 #reiapost

[yumeka-sxf]

Becky's homewrecking is one of my most favorite stand-alone chapters...and the anime version did not disappoint!

Everyone's reactions to Becky's hilarious delusions are just so perfect - Loid being baffled and totally clueless, Yor being flustered and completely misinterpreting things, while Anya just observes it all with quiet amusement.

Plus the scenes of Anya imagining Becky as her mom, and even the short sequence of showing Becky her house - gah, everything about this chapter/episode is peak SxF comedy~

Becky completely ignoring Bond...poor pup 😂

If Loid thinks he doesn't understand children based on Anya, Becky certainly did not help! (also Bond in the corner still feeling rejected)

Yor's "encounter" with the car worked much better in the anime 🤣

I honestly feel really bad for the driver!

Also this poor guy, lol. Though I'm sure the money Becky gave him was more than enough to cover repairs on the machine 🤣

I know some people found this chapter uncomfortable, but I don't get why. If Loid reciprocated Becky's feelings, then yes, that would be bad, but he doesn't. He reacts how anyone would if some delusional little kid decided they had a crush on you - by being confused (and hoping that your wife doesn't interpret it wrong!)

It's not unusual for little kids, especially little girls, to develop silly, fleeting infatuations with adults (I'm guilty of that myself when I was Becky's age, lol).

Anya's willingness (at first) to go along with Becky's delusions was fitting - she idolizes Becky's lavish lifestyle, especially the food (and since Yor's food is, well...) Plus someone at her impressionable young age can be swayed easily. But I'm sure if somehow this delusion became a reality, she'd realize that Yor is the best Mama and Becky should just be "best friend" 😅

This chapter also confirms that Yor didn't completely forget everything that happened after the bar incident. Or at least she remembered it more clearly after Loid supposedly had the conversation with her again, lol. Just shows how important his compliments are to her.

I love how the episode's key visual is a throwback to the one from episode 6! I hope we get to see more Yor/Becky interactions again.

We also got a short anime-original story featuring Fiona. Everyone was expecting chapter 60 to be adapted, but I'm kinda glad it wasn't since it and the Becky chapter seem a bit too long to share the same episode. Not a whole lot to say about this segment other than I liked how Fiona's actions mirrored the Forgers' activities on their vacation. We also got to see more of her "training" in the woods that was hinted at after her tennis match with Yor.

I liked this bear hitching a ride.

And omg, foreshadowing for chapter 67!

And it seems like the final episode of the season will adapt the 2-part story of Loid and Bond's fire rescue. I know there's a scene of Fiona in the next mission preview, but it's likely from a quick anime-only scene while the rest of the episode will adapt the two parts of chapter 62. The big indicator that this will be the only story adapted is that the next episode only has one title, "Part of the Family."

Can't believe we're just one week away from the final season 2 episode AND the CODE: White movie! Later today there's going to be a Jump Festa panel about SxF so I'm hoping there will be a season 3 announcement - stay tuned!

#spy family #spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #becky blackbell #sxf anime #fiona frost

[xomakara]

Waiting For Your Love

SUMMARY |   In which Mark is secretly your boyfriend, takes you to his place and wants to take your relationship to the next level PAIRINGS | Mark/Fem!Reader GENRE |  college au, non-idols, fluff, soft, smut RATING |  Mature LENGTH | 3,654 words AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I had this one-shot saved on my computer for awhile. So why not just post it? I will definitely be writing a chaptered/series of Mark though lol. Plus my title makes no sense in the story’s context but who gives a care. I hope you enjoy it!

"Take it."

You blinked several times, looking at the notebook that was suddenly thrown on your desk. You looked up at the male who was the culprit, his dark hair framing against his forehead, his lips in a grimace.

What the hell was his problem? You continued to look at the notebook, wondering what in the world was in it. It wasn't yours, you knew that much. One of your friends perhaps? Maybe one of the other guys dropped it?

"Because you were sick the other day." Mark Lee softly said, your gaze going to his face. He noticed your hesitation and explained his actions. "I took notes and thought you might want them."

"Hey!" One of the male students yelled from across the room. "That was my job! You can't just take my job like that Mark! Gimme those notes."

Mark shook his head. "No can do. Y/N needs my notes, not yours."

"Why you little-" Renjun was held back by a few of the other males in the classroom.

You couldn't help but chuckle. Mark was sure concerned about your health. But why and how did he even know you were sick the other day? As far as you were concerned, Mark never paid you attention nor seemed somewhat interested in you.

But that was before.

Until you started dating each other for a good year.

Of course it was a secret to everyone in the classroom. Apart from two people that were Mark's roommates but you had to blackmail them to be quiet or hell would let loose. How would it sound if THE Mark Lee, the most popular underclassman at your college campus was dating a nobody?

You shook your head, brandishing that thought from your head.

You were somebody. Granted you didn’t hang out in Mark’s social circles but you had a few of your own. And you were widely popular within those circles.

You frowned, not showing that you were secretly happy that your boyfriend took notes for you. You shook your head and turned to your female friends as they barrage you for answers.

"I can't believe Mark gave you his notebook." Jaemi whispered, lightly giggling as she watched some of the males teasing Mark.

You didn't know that he could turn a slight shade of pink.

He never turned pink in front of you. It was kind of cute. He turned around slightly, giving you a small shy smile before returning to his desk. Suddenly plopping down on his chair, he placed his head on the table, no doubt trying to hide his embarrassed face.

"I can't believe he took notes." Sumin muttered in shock, as she poked at the book. It was labeled 'English', supposingly for English Literature since you both took that class. "That's a surprise right there."

"Well, Haechan has always told me that Mark is pretty smart." Rahee shrugged and gave Haechan a small wave. "Even though he doesn't show it."

"Really?" You asked Rahee. You knew your boyfriend was smart but you decided to play along. "He seems like a slacker to me."

"Despite what everyone may think, Mark is actually a pretty laid back guy." Rahee nodded her head and looked at the notebook. "But he's pretty considerate considering his reputation. He's not a bad boy, so you can relax Y/N."

"And you know how, Rahee?" Sumin nudged the girl. "From Haechan?"

"It's one of the perks of dating the underclassmen rep." Jaemi answered as she watched Rahee winking at Haechan. "She gets all the dirty details from him."

"But if Mark—" You never got to finish your question since Rahee disappeared. You noticed Rahee snaking her arms with Haechan and walked out of the classroom. No doubt trying to find a private place to make out. "That girl always runs off with him."

"What can you say?" Sumin laughed as she noticed your expression of disgust. "Is it that weird for Rahee and Haechan to be dating?"

"Not weird." You answered, suddenly looking down at the notebook again. You noticed Mark's doodles and had to suppress a chuckle. "More of 'I can't believe Rahee snagged a boyfriend before us.’ Why can't I get a boyfriend?"

"We have plenty of male classmates." Sumin chuckled. "One of them is bound to date you."

"No thanks." You shook your head. You already had a boyfriend but no one really knew that. "Xiaojun, Hendery and Yangyang already asked me and I turned them down."

"But there's still Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, Jisung, and all the other dudes." Jaemi listed out, the guys looking up from their classwork or conversation. Seeing as it wasn't important, they continued whatever they were doing. “Plus the upperclassmen like Jungwoo, Jaehyun and Winwin to name some.”

"You forgot Mark." Sumin muttered, looking at him as if he heard.

He was still asleep.

"No to all of them." You scoffed. You thought of your boyfriend and slightly turned pink. "Well maybe to some of them..."

Your other two friends started laughing. You had always believed that you'd be the first of your group of friends to get a boyfriend first. Rahee ruined it when she announced she was dating Haechan. You came second after Mark secretly confessed that he liked you and you two started secretly dating.

It was no secret that you were quite a good-looking girl. You had your share of admirers; from the bad boy greaseball Jaemin, heart throb Jeno, irritable Renjun amongst some. You turned them down all flat, none of them remotely interesting to you. You had high standards for a boyfriend, and sure the guys you turned down all met those standards but it just didn't feel right.

Until Mark swept you off your feet.

"Yo babe," Hendery slithered to your desk and sent you a flirtatious wink. "The boys and I are going to play basketball. Care to watch?"

"No, thank you Hendery." You refused. Sure you turned him down but Hendery still called you babe. He was one of the two boys you blackmailed. "Last time I went to watch a game, I got hit by the ball because Jisung wasn't looking at who he was passing the ball to."

"My bad!" Jisung called out, his hair sticking in odd places. "I thought I passed it to Chenle but he was too busy staring at Sumin."

"Yah! Are you saying it's my fault?" Chenle shouted. The boys shouted in unison that it was indeed his fault.

"That sucks. Maybe next time." Hendery muttered before moving on to your friend Sumin, who gave him the middle finger. He chuckled before waving and disappeared from the classroom with the boys in tow, Chenle whining on how his hyung just flirted with the pretty girl.

"Should we just go?" Jaemi asked as she looked around the classroom. It was empty apart from the three girls, Mark, Xiaojun and Yangyang. "They all left to play basketball."

"Let's go Y/N. Besides Rahee has some explaining to do." Sumin rose from her seat and went towards Xiaojun and Yangyang, both boys looking up from their books.

Suggesting they all go watch the game together, the two boys nodded their heads and shut their books. Since you were putting your things away, Xiaojun stopped before leaving the classroom, only to say, "Y/N. Can you wake Mark up before you leave?"

"Okay, Xiaojun." You nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Xiaojun was the other boy you had to blackmail. You actually threatened to get rid of his stuff if he spilt the beans.

Walking towards Mark, you couldn't help but stare at his sleeping face. His lashes were surprisingly long, his skin looked smooth, and his jawline looked absolutely chiseled. He was a handsome man and you always told him so. You shook him lightly, he rustled slightly.

"Mark?" You shook him again. "Mark, wake up."

"Hmm?" He groaned out, sleepily opening his eyes. Noticing it was you, he slowly smiled. "Well, hi there."

What was this sleepy smile about? He kind of took your breath away for a second. "Don't say hi to me like that. What if others saw?"

"Is there anyone else here?" He mumbled, lifting his head slowly to look around the room. Seeing as he was in the clear, he looked back at you. "It's just you and me."

When will he stop smiling like that?

"Mark, everyone is playing basketball." You let out, your voice somewhat small. "Did you want to go join them?"

"Do you?" He asked, his husky voice asked you.

Was his voice always this deep? You never noticed it before but his voice was definitely sexy and that was one of the top five traits you'd like in a man. You shook your head to stop thinking such inappropriate things but Mark took it as something else.

"Why don't we go to my place?" He suggested, standing up to grab his bag and then to take yours from your grasp. You tried to refuse him but he took it anyway. "Let me carry your things."

Walking side by side with your boyfriend had never been as exhilarating as walking home with Yangyang and Haechan. Mark made you swoon with his manly side and he would occasionally walk where the road met the sidewalk so you wouldn't get hurt.

He was caring and you fell for him hard.

You had to speak up. "Mark? Do you like me?"

"If I didn't, you wouldn't be my girlfriend right?" He replied back with a question. Stopping in front of the apartment he shared with Xiaojun and Hendery, he unlocked the door and ushered you in. Kicking off your shoes, you strolled into the surprisingly clean home and settled on the couch.

Mark followed after you.

"The guys will be back soon after the game." You whispered as Mark leaned towards you.

"They won't be here for a while." He whispered back before claiming your mouth.

Mark was kissing you.

The fullness of your lips pressing against his. He tasted the sweet flavors of your lips. He was fully aware that he was kissing you, but man, did your lips make him go crazy. One of his hands clutched your lower back whereas the other hand cupped the back of your head. Your hand rested on his shoulder as Mark's lips moved over yours.

At first it was an innocent touch of lips: gently, sweetly, and with an eye to innocence. But gradually the roaring in Mark's blood began to beat back the gentleman in him, and he started to taste you rather than kiss you. And tasting you was like an intoxication in which every touch made him hungrier. His fingers curled possessively into your sweet-smelling hair, and he bent his head, taking your mouth, that unbearably desirable mouth, with a growl that had nothing to do with gentlemanly behavior.

Your mind was drowning, whirling. His mouth was hot on yours- hot! How could it be hot? You felt as if all your most important senses were lost, whirling around so that all you could do was clutch his shoulders and hang on, fighting the strange sensations that kept sweeping over your body, making your knees tremble and an unwanted heat grow between your legs, and your forehead felt feverish.

In fact, your whole body felt feverish.

Mark pulled back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"What?" You raised your eyebrows at him, your fingers coming to your lips.

"For kissing you." He clarified, his hand moving to cup your cheeks. "I just couldn't help myself. You look beautiful."

"Then don't stop." You muttered, looking into his eyes.

"If I don't stop then this will lead to things..." He stood up and walked a short distance to the kitchen.

You went after him and took his hands in yours. "Mark. I don't care if this leads to things. You want me and I want you."

"Oh."

"So just kiss me again. And whatever happens, let's just go with it."

Mark smiled, closing the distance between the two of you, as he settled his mouth over yours, felt you stiffen in a moment of surprise, then your hands crept up to his shoulders, slid gently around his neck, and you kissed him back. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart and the warmth of your small body pressing against him.

Mark tightened his hold against you, as he deepened the kiss, coaxing your lips apart, taking you with his tongue. His tongue touched yours and a jolt of heat went sliding through him.

He kissed the side of your neck, tasted the small shell-like rim of an ear, and kissed you again, cupping your ass and pulled you against his arousal. There was only an instant's hesitation before you melted against him, returning the kiss in full measure, your breasts brushing against the front of his shirt. He lifted you up and walked you to the kitchen counter.

Mark squeezed your ass and you yelped, his tongue sliding into your sweet wet cavern.

You writhed in his arms but had stopped when his hands covered your breast. You shivered in delight, the sensation new to you. You threw your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his dark thick locks of hair. He brought you closer, opening your legs so he could stand between them. His hands were under your skirt, slowly moving up your legs to your waist, to the sides of your upper body. He threw your shirt off only to reach behind and unhooked your bra, your breasts coming from its confinement.

You crossed your arms when you felt air hit your nipples. You didn't know why you were feeling the way you were feeling. You colored up again, crossing your legs from letting Mark remove your skirt.

"You sure the guys won't intrude?" You muttered as you bit your bottom lip. Damn, you looked really hot when you did that. You looked him in the eye and saw the intense look he was giving you. "I don't want them to start blabbering their mouths like they always do. Especially if we start to fuck."

"I'm sure they won't intrude." Mark sexily pouted, his body coming close to you and trying to pry your legs open again so he can stand between them. "Besides, Hendery told me that he and Sumin are currently seeing each other and that they're going on a date. Xiaojun is going over to hang out with Yangyang and Renjun."

"Is that why you asked me to come over?" You asked, surprised that Sumin didn't tell you that she was dating Hendery.

"Yeah." Mark brushed his lips against yours. "I. Want. You. Very badly."

"Me too." You muttered against his lips. But instead of backing away from him, you set your lips on his and boldly kissed him.

Mark was thrown off track. He grasped your hips and pulled you closer to him, your short skirt making way for him to stand between them. He brushed his fingers against your wet panties, knowing that you were undeniably wet and was going to writhe beneath him.

"Say you want it. Say you want me. And only me." Mark muttered against your lips.

You knew what you wanted. This feeling that he was making you feel bold. You felt your body go on fire, your cheeks red, your arms wrapping around his neck and clinging to him.

As if your life depended on it.

"I want you Mark." You pulled back slightly, breathing heavy. “I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled. He slid his hands up your legs and grasped the inside of your thighs to part them for easier access to your panties. "I'll have you screaming my name, babe."

"Where did you learn to say that‒" Mark silenced you by kissing you again and again. One hand worked his way to cup your breast, kneading the soft globes and raking his nails against your nipples. The other hand slid your panties to the side, his fingers brushing against your slit. "Oh my god..."

"Baby, you know what's gonna happen right?" He asked, his voice husky against your ear. He pushed a finger into you, his long finger being buried into your wet heat as he kissed your earlobe and kissed your neck. "You are so wet and tight, Y/N."

"Ah...oh god.." You had tried to push your legs together from letting your boyfriend touch you in the most sacred of places, but he was already too fast as you felt his finger in your deep core, his thumb teasingly rubbing your clit. "Please, Mark..."

Mark bit your ear again, his tongue swirling around. The one hand on your breast was teasing, cupping, kneading, squeezing, brushing his thumb against your nipple. His other hand was still teasing you down there, his thumb rubbing ever so sweet, his finger pumping into you ever so soft and slow. "Y/N... You are beautiful in every way... You are just fuckable."

You shivered at his words. You never imagined that he would see you in this way, naked and in his arms. You never imagined him calling you beautiful and saying that you were 'fuckable'. Where did he learn that from? Did he hang out with Johnny, the upperclassman? Hell, you never imagined that you were about to have sex with him. Having sex this early in the relationship was a weird idea for you, but it just felt so....

Right.

"Y/N..." Mark kissed you again, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he grasped your wrists and led them to the front of his jeans. His tongue battled with yours, brushing against the roof of your mouth, your teeth, your own tongue. It was like a battle of dominance.

Your hands at the fly of his jeans, you blinked your eyes in a daze and pulled back slightly. "Mark?"

It was more of a question than a demand or anything. Your voice held uncertainty, confusion, or maybe you were asking permission to just push his jeans off. He gave you a soft smile. "Do it. It's okay, don't worry."

You fumbled with his jeans and freed him, noticing his bulge. Your eyes widened, not believing that he was large and...just large. "Mark, I don't think you'll fit..."

"Trust me baby. It’ll fit." He chuckled as you said those silly words. Mark rubbed your back as one of his hands slid your skirt and panties off until you were just as naked as him. "We'll fit perfectly. Y/N, you and I were made for each other."

You just nodded as he pulled you closer to his body, the kitchen seeming small. You could feel the cool countertops beneath your ass, aware that his body was pressed against yours, his skin so hot, his hair damp from his sweat. "Well, if you say so…"

"Trust me." He muttered before taking your lips in his. "Y/N, baby... help me."

You didn't know what he demanded of you. Chuckling, Mark grabbed one of your small hands and wrapped it around his large, bulging cock. "Put it in, babe."

"Where?" You teased him, lightly squeezing his cock.

He sighed and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. The tip of him was at your entrance, teasingly rubbing up and down your slit. "In your sweet pussy, baby."

You bit your bottom lip. You reveled in the way his cock felt in your hand, your fingers curling around the rigid flesh. You slid the tip of him, just slightly, Mark taking charge instead. He kissed you deeply, to catch your cry as he buried himself to the hilt.

"Fuck!" You cried out into his mouth, your body feeling full. He moved into you, softly at first, letting you get used to the idea of him in you, of his large length. You clung on to him, breasts plastered to his chest, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he continued to move within you.

"Baby, fuck..." He breathlessly moaned out, increasing the motion of his hips as he continued to move in you. He went fast and deep, suddenly taking you hard, the sweat covering your bodies, making him even more turned on. He pumped harder, hitting that one spot you so craved until you cried out in mere pleasure.

"Mark!" You cried out, your climax immense as you were surrounded by intense pleasure. He cried after you, spilling his juices within your small body as you sagged in his arms. You rested your cheek against his chest and lovingly placed a kiss on his shoulder. But upon looking at his face, you suddenly went shy. "Oh god…"

Mark looked at you, a small laugh coming from him. "Do I have to give you a big hickey on your neck that says you're mine?"

"But then everyone will know that we're dating." You whined, giving him an adorable pout. You shook your head, threw your arms around his neck and gave him a deep kiss. "It’s okay. Because I'm yours."

"Can we lay like this for a while?" You asked.

As if it was a cue of some sorts, Xiojun's voice could be heard outside of the front door as he informed Hendery on what had transpired. "They're doing hanky panky in the kitchen."

"How do you know?"

"I opened the door slightly and saw clothes everywhere."

"Should we bust the door open?" You heard Hendery chuckle.

In the heart of the moment, you and Mark scrambled from the kitchen counter, laughing as you both searched for your strewn clothes.

"I love you." Mark muttered as he kissed your forehead, after gathering clothes. "I really, really love you."

"I love you too, Mark." You wrapped your arms around him as lips met with his. "Now show me again why you love me~ But this time in your bed."

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct dream #nct 127 #mark #mark lee #nct mark #mark smut #mark x reader #nct smut #nct mark smut

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | nine

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 8.2k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back. 

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin. 

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin. 

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love. 

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it. 

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?” 

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth. 

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze. 

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?” 

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?” 

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen. 

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really. 

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard. 

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.” 

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered. 

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole. 

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

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[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

Moonlight -x- Sunlight

ch.4 -- Senjuro (cw// banner has flashing text!)

r.kyojuro/f.reader

genre: modern!au, teacher!kyojuro by day/demonslayer by night, izakayaworker!reader, slowburn?, romance, angst

warning(s): slight mention of bullying :(

w.count: 5k

a/n: *blows so much dust off this thing after i shelved it for a year* Go ahead and revisit the other chapters via the INDEX for your refreshers if you'd like lol

It had been two weeks since you had seen Rengoku. Your ankle had healed, and you were once again fully mobile- much to your relief. You weren’t sure how much more limping around with a cane or crutch you could take. After your ankle healed and you got the all-clear from Kocho, you went through the hoops of making her your primary physician.

You hadn’t ever met a doctor you could be so comfortable around- though the whole bonding over being attacked by a demon probably had everything to do with that. Still, you were pleased with your new doctor, nonetheless. Not to mention, giving your money to a smaller business worked more for your morality than signing it all away to a huge corporation like a hospital that already had more than enough business on its side. 

Rengoku never went a day without sending you texts. You had a feeling he did this with all his friends and acquaintances; texting you a ‘very good morning!’ or asking when you’d be getting off work at night and to be careful on the way. You find it pretty cute. Finding a man as well rounded, optimistic and diligent in the ways of keeping in touch wasn’t exactly something you’d consider common; especially since he didn’t use any sort of abbreviations and spoke in fully formatted sentences like he was standing right in front of you.  

Apparently, with midterms and exams coming up, he’s been busy keeping his students occupied and prepping them for passing grades. That, alongside any extra tutoring lessons or occasional substitute gigs has his days packed. 

“Being a teacher must be tough,” you had thought to yourself during one of your many threads where he explained such things.  

You remember the second time Kaname showed up to your house unannounced. Luckily you were home when he landed on the branch outside your window. Though, that didn’t stop you from being startled at the big black mass that landed and pecked at the window to your living room. You were confused as he hopped right on inside when you opened the glass window before he flew to your couch and just sat himself on the arm of it. You didn’t see anything attached to his leg like before- which would’ve been odd since Rengoku had literally texted you earlier- so you were wondering why he was there in the first place. 

Then your phone dinged.

(Rengoku): Per chance, you haven’t seen Kaname flying around, have you? 

Clearly, Rengoku was also unaware that his crow was hanging around your place. The picture you sent him of the black bird leisurely resting in your living room had him calling you for the first time. It was comical, hearing his voice over speaker phone to reprimand Kaname as if the crow would actually understand what was being said to him and reflect on his actions. 

It obviously didn’t work since the next day Kaname was once again pecking at your window as you got ready to leave the house to run some errands. And you continued to allow him inside. Enabling this behavior is probably the opposite of what Rengoku wanted from his work crow, but were you just supposed to sit and stare at that poor, needy bird out your window? No. Of course you weren’t. 

You were sat on the ground by your door, pulling on your shoes when Kaname had cawed behind you. You made a small noise of surprise before you felt his talons land on the shoulder of your jacket. His added weight on your shoulder and his black avian body perched on you was something he hadn’t done before, but you smiled at the fact this bird was getting more and more comfortable with you. Of course, you would then remember that this was a working bird, and he wasn’t exactly yours. 

“You want to come out with me?” Kaname cawed with a small flap of his wings as if he truly understood your question and was giving you an answer. “Alright. You’ll have to stay outside when I’m in stores though, okay?” Another small flap of his wings. 

You stand and grab your bag, going through the checklist of what you’ll need leaving the house. Phone. Wallet. Keys. And whatever else your bag had hiding inside it. With an impulsion decision, you pull out your phone and take a picture of Kaname resting on your shoulder before sending it to Rengoku- who was probably still working since it was still early afternoon- and slipping your phone in your pocket. 

“Remember to behave, Kaname,” you tell the crow one more time before you leave the house with him remaining perched on your shoulder. 

You thought that having Kaname perched on your shoulder was a cute thing. It showed that he liked you and had- to some degree- grown to trusted you. Having a little friend around for Taco to chase was a bit of an annoying exercise sometimes since the feline must’ve felt jealous. Or that's how you justify the way Taco would crawl up your legs to try and get the same level of attention at the crow. Still, having a smart corvid hang around willingly made you feel… magical? For lack of better terms. If this is what witches in the woods in fairy tales felt like you were more than willing to commit to the bit. 

That is, it’s all comfortable in the comfort of your home. The moment you stepped outside, you could feel the eyes of all the people also on the street focused on you. People from across the street giving you looks like you wouldn’t notice. Kids on playgrounds in the park you had to cross definitely had your face growing warm with the cheers of “that ladies got a big bird on her!”. 

It's silly how you had completely forgotten that it wasn’t exactly a normal, everyday thing to witness.  Still, Kaname remained unbothered. Lucky him. 

It wasn’t like you could shoo him off now. That would’ve made you feel more guilty than embarrassed. No, you couldn’t do that to him. So, instead of acting like a bitter woman, you just lifted your hand and used the back of your fingers to lightly ruffle his feathers just under his beak. His nuzzle into your hand as you gave him attention sealed the deal. 

When you get to the first store you need to stop at- a department store- you point to a small, city planted tree that sat in its own little square of dirt surrounded by brick that really needed to be upkept a bit better. 

“Now, you remember our agreement?” You talk face to face with the bird in broad daylight, not acting like a loon in the least. Still, Kaname bellows back to you like he was agreeing. “Good. I won’t be long.” You turn your back on your trusted corvid pal before you’re walking through the automated glass doors of the store. 

True to your word, you were in and out as quick as you could be- or in this case, as quick as the newly trained cashier who was stressing out over their first real day could go. You made sure to give a quick “you’re doing great” on your way out. When the same automated doors- with a few new smudges from strangers who couldn’t resist touching the clean glass- reopen to let you back outside, you see a small gaggle of teenagers. They surround the same, wimpy looking city planted tree you had left Kaname in, and with their phones out were snapping photos and a video of the cawing bird. 

For a bird, he sure had a lot of personality. Though, you supposed that all birds did in one way or another and crows were already smart to begin with. Though, you felt irritated as they all hovered around him like some sort of attraction. 

Stepping off to the side, you get out of the way of the entrance before you’re calling him. You figured that the kids would probably keep filming and snapping photos, so you turned your back to them before calling him back. Kaname would know the back of your head anyways. 

“Kaname,” you speak clearly. It wasn’t loud, but just enough to be heard over the bustle of the afternoon traffic. The crow’s head twitched before his wings unfurled and he was gliding gracefully over to your shoulder that he favored. With another quick finger pet on the crown of his bowed head, you start off again. You ignore the teens who were hollering after you, feeling like an attraction just as Kaname had been treated as. 

When you finally don’t hear them anymore and make it to a section of street that isn’t so thick with people that you’re stepping on each other, you pat Kaname affectionately on his beak that he once again nuzzles into. 

“I’m sorry about them. Your picture is probably going to be floating around school campus’s now.” Maybe he understood, maybe he didn’t. You didn’t speak crow, so his cawing back to your linguistic woes didn’t spark much need to keep talking. 

You continue your errand running in much the same fashion. Window shopping here, stepping into a small shop there, always leaving Kaname somewhere to wait for you- although this time higher than eye level so he wouldn’t be as bothered by the public. It was when you had just finished your final store run when you felt Kaname tug at your hair after riding on your shoulder for a while. 

“Ow!” You whine when his beak snags some of your hair and tugs on it. You turn to him to try and him to quit it when you see a familiar combination of blond and red. Though, it was atop a much smaller body. 

A small boy, maybe high school aged, has that same flame styled hair that you recognize. He was stuck between two other boys, one with his arms slung around Rengoku’s(?) shoulder. The other was hovering around like he was herding him. The boy who resembled Rengoku looked so uncomfortable that when they rounded a corner, your body just took off after them. 

You were right to trust your instincts. 

The two were classic, low-grade bullies from the look of things. Taking the smaller Rengoku’s bag and shifting through it like they were looking for something. You didn’t even realize that now is the time that schools had released their students for the day. You wanted to help but had no idea how to start. Shouting maybe? A strong Hey! would surely get their attention and maybe little Rengoku, who may not even be related (somehow), could slip away in the distraction. 

Luckily, Kaname disrupted your brainstorming and created an opportunity for you. 

With a loud and crass and angry sounding caw, his wings opened, and he flew towards the two bullies like a graceful, winged bullet. His talon’s had landed in the nest of hair of the boy who had the little Rengoku’s bag, effectively making him drop it. With another warning caw, jumps off his head- taking a few stray hairs with him, and flew up and swooped back down to attack the other boy’s skull with small pecks of his beak. You were in awe. Kaname didn’t even need your help defending the bullied victim! Still-

“Hey!” Your original plan of just shouting was definitely more effective when you had an aggressive black bird on your side. Kaname stopped his pecking and flew back up into the air, circling around before he was landing on your shoulder. His eyes that were gentle and relaxed before were now narrowed and attentive. “Leave that boy alone and get out of here,” you command with your stance wide, and arms crossed with your errand shopping bags hanging in the crux of your elbow. You knew that it wasn’t your demeanor that sent the brats packing, but the aura of the angry corvid that added a boost to your intimidation. 

When they were out of sight, you let out a sigh and you felt Kaname relax too. Uncrossing your ams, you jog over to the boy who was now gathering the things that had fallen out of his backpack. Kneeling on the ground with him, you place your bags down and put your hand gently on his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Hey,” you say again, much softer this time than before when you bellowed it. “Are you alright?” You ask. 

The boy nods and his completely tied back hair, aside from the front strands, bounce as he does. You hear him hum in affirmation too. He did a bad job of convincing you that he was really okay. Still, you give him a moment to collect himself. 

“You’re name,” you start as you pick up a stray pencil that had rolled away from him, “it’s Rengoku, isn’t it?” You were near positive. After all, who else could look so closely related to the Rengoku that you know? When he lifts his head and the eyes that also resemble the ones you know was proof enough. 

“Yes?” He sounded nervous. Rightfully so. You’re quick to defend yourself. 

“Oh! I just- well, you look a lot like someone I know, so I just took a wild guess.” Rengoku had mentioned before that he had a little brother in high school. “He mentioned he had a kid brother once too.” The more you tried to save face, the more awkward the whole thing felt. 

Still, the little boy’s face seemed to relax at the mention of familiar individual. 

“You know my older brother?” 

“Sure do,” you reassure. Helping him pack away the rest of his fallen items into his bag, you pick up your own bags and walk with him back out onto the main street. “Where are you heading? Do you want me to walk you?” Your sudden offer must’ve flustered him since his cheeks went pink. You were still a stranger, so yeah, it was kind of weird. 

“I’m okay!” It sounded like he meant it that time, more so because he was embarrassed and blurted it out in such flustered conviction. “I’m just going home. I’m not far now.” 

You hum worriedly but give in anyway. Then, the familiar weight you had gotten used to on your shoulder departed. Kaname and swapped from you to rest on the head of the smaller Rengoku, using his blonde roots as a nest. You chuckle. Looks like he’d have a well-trained escort home, so you weren’t needed after all. 

“Alright, then. Be careful going home.” He bashfully nods before he’s walking away from you. With a small huff of anxiety for his safety, you check the time on your phone. “Oh, damn!” You curse to yourself before rushing back the way you had come. It had gotten so late that if you didn’t get home soon, you wouldn’t have time to feed and play with Taco before it got dark. He’d pout about that for days if you missed his usual ‘me time’! 

Senjuro walks into the apartment he lives in with his older brother and let out a deep breath as he dropped his bag and sat to remove his shoes. Kyojuro, who had managed to come home earlier than usual by deciding to take the short, 15 question quizzes he had to grade back home with him instead of doing it on school premises, heard the familiar sounds of the front door opening, closing then locking. He didn’t need to go out tonight for demon slaying, so he had already changed into more comfortable clothes by the time Senjuro returned. 

Hair pulled off his neck with a hair tie that was fighting for its life and his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. The sweater he wore was light in color with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows as his lazy, black pants kept his legs warm. The air conditioning was almost always running in the apartment since both boys always seemed to run a bit warming than others.

“You are back early today,” Senjuro greets when the older sibling stood behind him and helped him off the floor when he slipped into his house shoes. Senjuro often wore slippers inside since his feet were always so cold- his older brother was the opposite walking around the apartment barefoot. 

“It isn’t often I can spend so much free time at home,” Kyojuro answers. The two walk deeper into the house when Kaname flies inside and to the wooden perch Kyojuro had set up months ago for him to rest on in the living room. 

The apartment was small, but just enough for the two boys. When Kyojuro had moved out of his family home, he was insistent that Senjuro come with him. Their father wasn’t fit to raise the youngest right now and everyone knew it. 

The main space was open and spacious. A single three cushion couch was in the middle of the open area with a tv mounted on the wall. The small coffee table in front of the couch is scattered with items and random odds and ends that never made it back to their proper place. Behind the couch was a small table that could seat four and was currently covered in the quizzes Kyojuro was previously grading. Beyond the living room was a small kitchen that Senjuro was in charge of since his older brother could not cook to save his life. Just down the short hall were their respective bedrooms, an extra room Kyojuro uses for an office space and the bathroom. 

Just quaint enough for the Rengoku boys. 

Kyojuro took to gathering his graded and ungraded papers into piles so he could make room for the homework of Senjuro’s that would soon be replacing his own mess. He could finish in the office later- his little brother’s studies are more important and this way he could ask questions if he needed help instead of holing up in his room at his own desk. 

Hearing Kaname honk softly for a dried treat, Senjuro is quick to oblige. Kyojuro stops his gathering as he takes his glasses off to have them hang off the v-neck of his sweater instead and crosses his arms. He sets his sights on his faithful crow.

“Where have you been all day?” Kyojuro knew Kaname understood him, and he also knew he could get an answer if the bird felt like he wanted to. Senjuro, who had fed him his treat, ran his hands along his back with the flow of his feathers. Then, the mysterious woman he met today came to his mind. 

“Ani ue,” Senjuro calls out the formality of his brother even though he’s been told time and time again that he doesn’t need to. Still, Kyojuro answers with an acknowledged hum, pushing his slight annoyance at his crow aside. “Have you met a girl recently?” 

The question stuns Kyojuro for a second. Longer than a second actually. Really, the bout of silence that followed the innocent question was long enough to make the air awkward. 

“Could you be more specific?” Kyojuro asked in return. His mind went to a space that his little brother didn’t need to be meddling in. Meeting a woman like… romantically? Or was he just over thinking? 

“In terms of meeting someone new.” 

He was over thinking. 

“Ah,” moron. He curses to himself. “I see.” He racks his brain with a hand at his chin. He often meets all sorts of people at work. New substitute teachers come and go all the time. Maybe he meant one of them? Or maybe… 

Kyojuro’s eyes widen in epiphany as he looks back at Kaname. Senjuro had been in classes all day, as had he been. When he wasn’t busy with his job as messenger bird, Kaname often lazed here at home. There was only one place Kaname had been frequently disappearing to instead of staying in the comfort of his home recently. His arms dropped back down to his sides as he walked closer to his crow and brother. 

“Is there a reason you want to know?” Kyojuro sits on the couch and offers the cushion next to him as Senjuro takes it easily. Slightly facing each other, they carried on their conversation. 

“I dropped my bag on the street today,” Senjuro starts. Kyojuro knew that wasn’t the full truth. As much as he hated it, Senjuro was timid enough to be picked on by other kids and Kyojuro wasn’t always around to help him. “When I was picking up my stuff, this woman came to help me. She knew my name; said I looked like someone she knew.” Senjuro’s habit of picking at his nail beds started up and Kyojuro quietly pulled his hands away from each other. “Kaname was with her too. I was just curious.” 

Kyojuro looked into the wide, curious eyes of his little brother and smiled. He called for his crow, and Kaname easily made a home on the back of the couch between the two siblings. Kyojuro pet Kaname’s back and under his beak, alternating. 

“You were with y/n-san all day weren’t you?” 

“Yes!” The crow loudly cawed. 

“Don’t you go and forget where it is you actually live,” Kyojuro lightly reprimands. “And don’t go speaking around her either. You’ll scare the wits out of her cat.” He returns his attention back to his brother. “To answer your question from earlier now, yes. I do believe I’m familiar with the woman you ran into today." Senjuro took notice to the change in his brother's face. Did he know he was making such a softened expression? "She and I met recently.” 

Something in Senjuro’s eyes shined at the mention of you from Kyojuro’s mouth directly. Maybe it was because he didn’t need to worry about a stranger knowing who he was. Or maybe it was something else Kyojuro just wasn’t picking up on. Senjuro spent a little bit longer talking about you, how you had shopping bags, how Kaname was so comfortably hanging around you, and how you seemed like a nice person. 

Soon, the brother-on-brother chit-chat had to come to a stop. The sun would be setting soon and Senjuro still had homework to do and dinner to make. Kyojuro took his papers to his office and shut the door. Dropping his work on his desk, he flipped on the desk lamp before he sat himself in his chair. The leather creaked at his added weight and the chair reclined when he leaned back against it. 

Digging his phone from his pocket of his slacks, he stared at his reflection in the black screen. Kyojuro really wanted to thank you for helping Senjuro, but for some reason he couldn’t even tap on the screen of his smartphone to wake it up.

Kyojuro wasn’t a religious man, but he did thank whatever god had been watching him when the screen lit itself up with an incoming text. 

(y/n-san): Did Kaname make it back home? 

Kyojuro laughs out loud at your message. Senjuro hears it echo from the kitchen. Kyojuro would get his grading done first, then he'd set aside time for you.

You jump out of your skin when, as you’re mindlessly browsing through your socials, an unexpected call jumps your phone to life in both vibrations and a loud ringtone you had always seem to forget the sound of. Fumbling your phone in your hands, you snatch it up before it could give way to gravity and hit the ground... or Taco who was resting on your lap. 

Seeing Rengoku’s name printed on your screen had you mentally lagging before you’re answering the call. Any later and it would’ve been dropped, then you’d be forced with the dilemma of if you call him back or just pretend it never happened. 

The sound of light white noise greets you for a moment as you bring the phone up to your ear. Then, you start off the call first. 

“Hello?” 

“Ah! You picked up!” He sounded excited. You mindlessly start petting through Taco’s fur as he still lay peacefully on your lap. “I’m glad. I was worried you may be busy given the time.” 

“That makes sense,” you agree. Any other night you’d be just about ready for work. “I have the night off tonight, so your timing works out.” 

“How fortunate!” You’ve never heard someone say those words without it being sarcastic before. He really sounded like he was relieved he wasn’t taking up your time. You smile as you lean back against the cushions of your couch and turn the tv you had on for background noise down. It was turned onto some random celebrity reality show or something, you weren't really paying attention to it. 

“Kaname did make it back safely to answer your earlier question. I apologize I couldn’t reply immediately. I was finishing up some work that I had already stopped in the middle of once.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You shift your legs. Taco mewls in annoyance. “Was it for…?” You didn’t know how to ask if he was talking about his work in education or his demon slaying gig. 

“It was for my classes! Grading quizzes can take up a significant amount of my time. I was also helping my brother with some homework when he needed it!” 

You perk up at the mention of his brother.

“That reminds me,” you start, “I ran into him on the road today. I was out running errands when we met.” 

“Yes,” Rengoku's voice took on a softer tone, “that is one reason I wanted to call you.” You stay quiet. Unsure on what to say next. “Senjuro is a gentle child, so he is easily the target of people who feel the need to push other's around. I feel guilty that he doesn’t express to me all the things that happens, but you helped him out today, yes?” 

“Well, sort of. Kaname did most of the work if I’m being honest.” You stop and think about what happened right before you noticed the little Rengoku- who’s name you now know to be Senjuro. Kaname was tugging at your hair, almost like he was trying to get your attention to shift somewhere else. “Without him, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to chase off those brats myself. So, really the credit is all his.” 

You hear Rengoku chuckle on the other end of the line. It was easy to tell just by his voice and concerned tone alone that Rengoku really cared about his little brother. 

“Does your brother do any after school clubs?” 

“Pardon?” The question caught the flame-head off guard. 

“I just- and stop me if this is totally invasive- but I thought that maybe if he needed, I could check on him from time to time after school. Just to make sure he’s not being bullied?” Saying it out loud made you realize just how crazy you sounded.  It sounded like you were trying to butt into their lives! “I’m sorry. It’s just I’m usually free in the afternoons and all so-” 

“I’d appreciate that.” 

“Oh,” you breathe. You half expected him to kindly reject you as you shoved your foot further into your big mouth. “Really?” 

“Senjuro sometimes spends time in the school’s library until I’m ready to go home with him. On the days where he or I cannot go back home together, I do worry about him. I know he'll need to defend himself one day, but he’s still young.” 

There’s a bout of silence between you both for an uncomfortable amount of time. You wonder if the call disconnected at one point because it was so quiet. Still, the time recording the length of the call kept ticking up, so Rengoku was definitely still on the other line. 

“So,” you clear your throat. “Senjuro-kun likes to read?” 

“He does!” The pep is thrust back into his voice and you feel relieved. 

The call lasts for much longer than you anticipated. So long that Taco had gotten off your lap, paced around the couch twice, ran up and down the halls and whined for food all the span of it. You don’t remember the last time you had a long phone call that wasn’t work or business related. Even the few previous calls you've recieved from Rengoku weren't this drawn out. It was enjoyable.

You notice the numbers glaring at you from the clock of your living room and gasp. It was getting late. Really late. And Rengoku- even if he wasn’t working tonight- had classes tomorrow. 

“It’s getting late,” you find the next best gap in conversation and throw in the beginning of the end of the call. “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest? It wouldn’t be good for a teacher to be dead tired all day because he was up so late.” 

“Believe it or not, I’m not a morning person at all! Senjuro brews me coffee every morning since I tend to be grumpy from the long nights I should be used to by now.” 

You laugh at the image. You don’t think you’ve seen him frown once since you met him- even if it hasn’t been that long. 

“Even more reason to let you go.” You get up off the couch and stretch. As if predicting your moves, Taco races towards your room ahead of you. Of course, you’d wash up properly before joining your feline son. “I enjoyed talking to you, Rengoku-san.” 

“You don’t need to be so polite,” he insists. “Referring to me by name alone is just fine.” 

“You’ll need to drop the formalities with me too then. It’d be weird if I spoke casually with you, just for you to not.” 

“Deal.” 

“Good night, Rengoku.” 

“Sweet dreams, y/n.” 

The call ends. Even though you wash your face with cold water, your skin still feels warm in your palms. 

a/n: wow i can't wait for next year when i get around to writing another chapter (is this satire? who knows)

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku fluff #rengoku angst #rengoku x female reader #x female reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x you #demon slayer x reader #rengoku scenario #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #rengoku series #rengoku fic

[aihoshiino]

chapter 141 thoughts!

The usual reminder: because of the content of this arc, I will unavoidably have to discuss CSA and topics related to it in this & future chapter reviews. I do not discuss them in great detail, but if you very understandably just aren't in the headspace for that, no hard feelings - look after yourself and I'll see you next time.

This chapter starts us off on the note of answering something I've been wondering for a while and confirming that Ai did, in fact, know that Hikaru was being abused by Airi. On the one hand, this feels like it should go without saying, since it answers the question of where Aqua would have gotten some of this info, but it feels strange to have this dropped on us in such a matter of fact way.

In general, I continue to be both baffled and impressed by Oshi no Ko's dedication to never showing characters learning or reacting to huge, status-quo altering pieces of information on screen lol. I think this is more a case of the movie's framing than the manga's - hard cutting from the HKAI exchange at the end of last chapter to the Ai & Airi confrontation is very cinematically appropriate - but it does bother me regardless. In isolation, I think it's fine and we get more than enough information about Ai's thoughts and feelings on the situation in the confrontation but it's nevertheless part of a pattern that's been going on for a long while now of important reveals and reactions to really huge pieces of information are happening entirely offscreen and are only told to the viewer in retrospect, or are backfilled into the story once Akasaka wants to make use of it. It's not a world-ending flaw or anything but I'm noticing it more and more and I think it's been harming the series more than it's helping.

That said, I do really like this confrontation Ai has with Airi. It definitely feels more like Ai speaking for Aqua than it does Ai herself speaking - the cold, straightforward way she addresses Airi pretty clearly mirrors the way Aqua spoke to the director on Akane's behalf back in LoveNow. Whether this is a case of Aqua using Ai as a mouthpiece or their similarities as mother and son coming out in a moment like this, I think it's interesting either way. Given what we learned about Ai's own abuse and her own history with narrowly avoided CSA, it makes total sense that upon learning someone she cares about was being similarly exploited by an adult that she would have some very strong feelings about it.

Airi's meltdown in response is also something I have mixed feelings on. As a piece of characterization in isolation, it's fascinating and I think it provides some important insight into how and why Airi was able to rationalize and justify her abuse of Hikaru to herself, even though she clearly knows it was objectively wrong. I honestly can't help but see parallels in the way she centers her own feelings and pain and uses that as justification for her actions with Ayumi, Ai's mother, who had a more subdued but emotionally similar breakdown when talking about her history with her daughter.

Ultimately, I do feel it adds more than it takes away - I would much rather see the story continue to humanize characters who could otherwise have just been left as uncomplicatedly black and white Evil People Doing Bad Things. People very rarely begin acting in cruel, exploitative or antisocial ways out of nowhere and I think the manga's story is better for highlighting that this is the case.

H O W E V E R. . . where my feelings become more negative is the talk that follows, but I have like a million things to say about that so I'll put a pin in it for now to not derail too badly.

Given how Airi responds here, I'm also suddenly very curious as to if this direct confrontation was what put an end to her abuse of Hikaru. It's hard for me to imagine her going back to it after being so directly called out and if that's the case, I can't help but wonder if this was the trigger for the HKAI romance. I already talked last chapter that there's some imagery already implying Hikaru views Ai as his light, which OnK thematically associates with the role of a savior in someone's life. If Ai really did manage to intervene and protect Hikaru from Airi's abuse, then that would have intensified those feelings one hundredfold.

holy shit akane AND miyako are back! wow, isn't it totally crazy that across the arcs where they could have contributed to and potentially resolved the conflicts at play they were just totally absent but now they're just reappearing without comment or reaction to any of that other shit!

As I mentioned before, I have really mixed feelings on this scene with Miyako and the others. In isolation, I do like it and I think it kind of brings into explicit text something that had been just floating around as vibes before, which is how absolutely symbiotic with misogyny and sexual exploitation the entertainment industry is. The way misogyny played into Ai's exploration was always a really fascinating part of her arc to me, but given that Akasaka at least publicly presents as a person without that sort of lived experience, I was curious as to how much was intentional and how much was accidental, just because of how surprising it was to see a man centering this sort of thing so thoroughly in his writing. This scene with Miyako makes it clear that it's something Akasaka absolutely wants to highlight and discuss in Oshi no Ko, to the point of him being willing to call out even likable and sympathetic characters like Taiki for casually taking part in and perpetuating it.

THAT SAID… I really don't like that this scene, accidentally or otherwise, ends up centering and discussing Airi's victimhood over Hikaru's. His story has always been an indictment of the way children, specifically, are at risk in the entertainment industry not just in terms of being exploited as workers, but in the ways that adults in power can and will use their positions of authority to do exactly what Airi has done. That is what needed to be discussed here; the way that Hikaru's abuse is in no way an isolated incident and how people like Airi will continue to get away with hurting children so long as the industry - and society at large - treats children like second-class citizens at best and commodities at worst. I do think this scene is trying to use Airi and Miyako's experiences as a jumping off point to talk about exploitation in general and the way a person's ability to say 'no' can be compromised by outside pressures but it talks so much and so exclusively about the experiences of young girls and adult women specifically that it's hard not to read it as the story placing more value - at least for now - in exploring Airi's perspective over Hikaru's and that just feels kind of grody to me.

The timeline of this chapter is also just… really weird? Given Frill's, uh, appearance at the end of the chapter I have to assume it's taking place right after she films her scene with Aqua last chapter but that makes no sense given where the Ai and Airi confrontation is placed…? My best guess is that the scene we get at the start is some kind of visualization of the script by the characters who are reading it but it's all still very needlessly confusing lol

frill just barging in with her tits out when she knew rbkn were waiting for her was so fucking funny though i gotta admit. weird ass lizard woman.

Her mentioning it was her own decision to do the scene like that is also shrimptresting because it seems to implicitly confirm that there is, thank god, SOME kind of intimacy coordinator on set that the cast are talking about these scenes with. I actually also think the level of trust and comfort between Aqua and Frill this implies is also really interesting…? In general, I've always really like the idea of AQFR friendship, so this is kind of making me daydream a bit about seeing more of one…

As for the ending… man, it's such transparent reaction bait that I can't really summon the energy to get annoyed LOL. At least we won't have to wait a whole extra week to see what it amounts to.

Weary as I am with the reaction bait cliffhangers, I am at least glad to see the story coming around to finally addressing the elephant in the room here. As the chapter end text points out in the Japanese versions of this chapter, a scene like this was an inevitability of playing Ai and Hikaru and it's been where I've expected to see the underlying tension that's been floating around AQRB's relationship since the past life reveal finally get drawn out and addressed. Given its placement in the story (ch 142 is only the second chapter of its corresponding volume) and the framing of that last page as more of a gag/punchline than a serious dramatic beat, I don't things are quite going to play out like Ruby seems to want, but I'm nevertheless curious as to wtf is even going to happen

Honestly, at this point, I kind of just want Akasaka to shit or get off the pot. If he's going to bring a topic like incest to the table, then I want him to actually have something to say about it that isn't just Ruby going 'kyaa oniichan' and acting like a fanservice imouto character from a harem anime. If we're going to have something like 'Ruby falls in love with her brother' actually happen in story, then I want to see how she feels about this, how she rationalizes it, how she expects this to play out when she and Aqua live in a society that by and large condemns incest and treats it as taboo. At the very least, give me something to dig into and examine and chew on that wouldn't have already felt dated during the mid 2010s little sister boom.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #chapter reviews #onk spoilers #csa mention

[mochiimac]

About Love 3

My head gets messy when I try to hide

The things I love about you in my mind

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x Fem!Reader

Summary: Becoming a best selling thriller author? Part of the plan. Living in the city and isolating yourself from everyone? Part of the plan. Inheriting your late uncles home in the woods, his sassy assistant and fortune after he died mysteriously? Not part of the plan. Oh, and he failed to mention the 7 'surprises' he left you as well.  And come to think of it... was his death an accident? Or is your imagination going wild again?

Genre: Hybrid!AU

Warnings (if bolded then this chapter contains these elements) : Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Angst, Death, Abuse, Smut, Violence, Dom/Sub, Dom/Sub Elements, Non-Con Elements, Slow Burn, Trauma,

Rating: M 18+

WC: ~6k

Tag List: CLOSED- Tumblr doesn't like my list, I'll most likely have to do the list on a separate post... I'll figure it out lol

Notes: I'm so happy to be writing again! Thank you to everyone who waited and to those who have just started to read <3

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After being thrown into a brick wall, drowned in scolding black liquid, ran over twice, and bent to the point of snapping in half did sweet mercy come to relieve the pains of the world. It just so happened to be in the shape of a large metal box. And smell like every health violation known to man and hybrid kind.

Clunk!

Y/n’s damaged phone hit the bottom of the dumpster, the loud noise nearly being lost in the dark alleyway thanks to the busy traffic of the city. The device was now gone and irreparable (which may or may not have been extremely fun to do- perhaps he has some pent up rage he should work on...) meaning it could no longer be tracked. He was oh so careful about it.

He was careful when arriving in the city, taking detours and making random stops before settling on a random alleyway with a dumpster. Despite knowing he was alone Jackson remained careful though, double checking his surroundings before exiting the dumpster and heading back into his car. It might have seemed too extreme to someone looking in, but if the knew the Spades family. Knew what they were capable of...

Closing the door with a little too much force, he leaned back in his seat and let out a long sigh. Jackson closed his eyes, feeling the freshly fallen snow slowly melt and dampen his jet black hair. His lips were pulled into a thin line, nearly sucking his teeth, as the events from the day played back in his mind. 

The day was supposed to be an easy one. Get the new heiress into the new home, help unpack, question her mini library and the knickknacks he had noticed from prior visits, then head home. Simple. Done. Takoda made this all sound extremely easy in the will. But that man could make lassoing the moon look as easy as riding a bike. He was the kind of man who accomplished what he put his mind to and didn’t hesitate. Jackson admired him for it, looking up at him as a mentor ever since he was first hired. Even now the young man wanted to strive to be like his late boss.

He really wished the old man was right there with him, to help shed light on what Takoda was up to. And what Jackson should do with the chaotic mess he was in. 

Not only does Jackson now have to worry about the Spades family but now hybrids. He never held any ill thoughts towards the beings and honestly viewed them just as he viewed humans: there were good and bad hybrids just like there were good and bad humans. Of course he found it odd that even now, so long later, they weren't given basic human rights. Hell, many places still want to keep them on leashes. He just couldn't see how they could be treated that way.

Well... maybe for one hybrid he could. Jackson scowled at the fresh memory of the shaggy brown haired hybrid that held him in that death grip. He would enjoy that one being in a doghouse, more for the sake of his injured ego than for the hybrids actions. A large part of him wanted to stay and ensure Y/n was in good hands. But judging at how they reacted to him was enough to let Jackson know she was going to be safe. His ass still hurt from the youngest canine tackling him to the ground.

‘Little shit.’

Bzz! Bzz!

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, breaking the warm and calm atmosphere of the car. At first he was prepared to see a new number, knowing Y/n would be calling to give him her new cell phone information. However he was surprised at the name that appeared, his eyes narrowing for a moment. He really didn’t want to take this call…

But he had no other choice.

“Hello?... Hold on, what? … No, that’s not possible. I just… He what?...” He paused as he heard the new information being told to him. “... Of course he did… Alright.” The line went dead and he tossed the phone into the passenger seat. For a brief moment he stared straight ahead, allowing the new information to sink in.

He blinked. 

Sighed.

BEEEEEP!

And banged his head into the car horn.

People walking about on the sidewalk jumped and stared at the parked vehicle who’s car horn was going off for a long period of time. But Jackson didn’t care. No, at that moment only one thing was on his mind: what the hell was Takoda up to. 

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The entire drive was rather relaxing. Namjoon kept a keen eye on the road while also engaging in conversation here and there. Jungkook and Jin decided to ask you a million questions, the duo's eyes were shining the entire time. It were as though you were telling them the greatest story to ever be written, even if it was just tidbits of your life. You did try to ask them questions about their own lives as well but they would get shy and nearly clam up.

It was shocking compared to how flirty and outgoing they were most of the time. You wondered if it had to do with their files... Those manilla envelopes might be holding their history and maybe some secrets they are afraid of speaking. It was hard to ignore when Namjoon would tense up beside you; Jungkook would let his hair fall in his face and glance down; Jin's smile would freeze before he stuttered a question of his own.

Did they really think you would kick them out from what those files stated? You heart clenched at the mere idea of it. Judging with how they acted you knew they were kind, too kind for the world they were created for.

And it made you nervous thinking of all that could have happened to them while being alive.

"You have arrived!" The GPS announced as the car slowed down. You were too busy with the pack that you failed to realize how fast time had gone by. "Welcome to Unova Mall!"

There was a time where shopping centers were dying out. Online shopping had grown and become popular with how easy it was to merely pick up your device, press a few buttons, and you’d see the item within the week. It wasn’t until hybrids came to be that mall’s began a resurgence. As more and more people began to adopt they soon realized that they had no where to showcase their new adoptions; restaurants were hardly allowing hybrids in due to them being seen as animals and highly dangerous (especially the first generation of hybrids), and parks were working on regulations on whether they needed leashes or not.

 As the world shifted with the new profound creations certain businesses picked up on this opportunity; mall’s were revamped to accommodate hybrids, allowing specialty stores of all types to gather together. For some it was convenient to shop for themselves and hybrids in one go. For others it marked a great place to allow their hybrids to be seen by the world; from owning the latest generation to the rarest of breeds it was the place to go.

Personally you never shopped in malls before, never had a reason to. You preferred to get what you needed online or by running to whatever market you stumbled upon. However you knew there was no better place to complete your shopping list than the mall. Even if it made you cringe on the inside. The mere idea of being mistaken for someone who uses hybrids for clout... It left a rotten taste in your mouth.

Pulling up you could see the appeal of walking around in the large shopping center. The stores appeared to be outside but upon closer inspection you could see a glass ceiling covering all the stores, protecting shoppers from the elements. There were large and tall metal pillars placed throughout the area; units designed to heat or use AC depending on the weather. While there was a parking lot for people to park, the stores had large paved areas for everyone to walk around freely without worrying about traffic. 

“I’ve never been to a place this large before.” Jungkook whispered, gold eyes large as he watched everything from his window. The car parked itself close to the front of the main entrance.

You were taken back once more to those files, wondering what their histories were like. Even now, stepping out of the car, that logical part of your brain was alerting you that you didn’t truly know these males. And, of course, that small voice in the back of your mind was reluctant to think of them as anything less than perfect. Nearly purring at the idea of them being the best men out there.

You really hated your brain sometimes.

“Alright beautiful, where do you want to go first?” Seokjin stood next to you. He kept close, his body acting as a shield to the wind and most of the snow.

“Furniture first, it’ll be easier to get that out of the way.” You responded. You stuffed your hands in your pockets, trying to keep the cold away.

Despite being mainly outdoors, the main entrance to the shopping center could easily be noticed by the large LED 'Welcome!' screen, models posing with hybrids wearing big smiles. The screen would shift and list attractions and new sales that the stores located all around would have. The stone pathway began right where the large welcome screen was, a directory stationed right beside it to assist in finding certain stores faster.

Namjoon walked beside you with Jin and Jungkook following close behind. “Do you know what you need exactly?”

“A bit, yes. I have a mental list of everything.” You beamed at him, your eyes meeting his amber ones. “It really shouldn’t take too long. Hardly any time at all.”

“Are we going to buy things for the arcade room?” Jungkook asked with a hint of hope in his voice. It did have you grinning but you shook your head at him.

“No, at least not today. We’re going to focus on the basics today.”

"There's still hope." He whispered, Namjoon rolling his eyes as the youngest grinned at the mere idea of having an entire game room to themselves.

The minute you stepped foot on the stone pathway entrance you felt warmth engulf you. The entire area felt warm and cozy, and even smelled good: you could smell hints of something sweet in the air almost like a bakery. A nice place such as this would provide air scents to boost appeal from the customers and create a relaxing atmosphere. Even Namjoon looked calmer though he was looking around and familiarizing himself with the place. His eyes were alert on the few people walking around, body shuffling closer to you.

‘What a good alpha.’ The pesky little voice in your head swooned. You mentally stomped on it with a boot and shook your head. With a quick glance you spotted the store with ease. “The store is right over there! Hopefully they have expedited shipping.”

“Are you in a rush for a coffee table or something?” Jin quirked an eyebrow, bright blue eyes looking confused for a moment. 

“Not that, but I need a place to sleep.” You laughed as you all walked into the store. It was brightly lit and held displays for various rooms a household could have. It went far beyond what you could see from where you were standing. Glancing around you saw the bedroom area and quickly went towards it. “You guys got the bedroom since there are three of you in your pack. I’ll take another room and make it my own.” 

 You could feel a small amount of tension and turned to see the three hybrids staring at you, stone still at the entrance of the store, with mixed emotions; Jungkook looked hurt, Jin looked confused, and Namjoon appeared to be troubled. There was no telling what was going on inside their minds as you stopped mid-walk and blinked at them.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s what we want to know? Was it the nest?” Jungkook quickly walked up to you, eyes searching yours for something that you didn’t know. “I can do better. Make it better.” Your face heated up as he knelt to your level, hands on your shoulders creating warmth and security that you hated to admit that you loved. “What did we do?”

“I- you guys did nothing,” You stammered over your words, noticing the rest of the pack gathering around you as well. A million questions rocketed in your mind, not knowing where this behavior came from. You really needed to do your own research or communicating would be nearly impossible. You could ask but you couldn't find the nerve to; you were already viewing yourself as a terrible owner for leaving them alone for months. Asking questions on basic information made you even worst in your own eyes. Stressing them out, not knowing enough about their species... you needed to do better and give them some hope in you and your abilities.

“You guys are a pack and would want to stay together, so you guys can take the master room. Since I’m not a pack member I really shouldn’t intrude.”

You could tell Jungkook was ready to argue, however a deeper voice was faster. “We understand Y/n. Thank you for thinking of us.” Namjoon gave you a soft smile, though it was a small one. His eyes seemed to be swimming through emotions that you couldn’t decode no matter how hard you tried. There was a pang in your heart at the thought of hurting them though you had no idea what you even did. If anything you were trying todo what was best for them.

As if sensing your doubts he gently took your arm and began to lead the way to the other showcases. Jin followed and offered you a soft smile as well, but just like the pack alpha’s it was small and didn’t reach his eyes. You pushed  your questions to the back of your mind as the bedroom displays came into view. Instead you focused on what you needed and went straight to the mattresses first, needing to test them out and see which one would be comfy for you. 

Namjoon and Jin did help you, making good points. Jungkook, however, not so much. He decided to full on pout and whine, hands tugging on your jacket as he tried to sway you with pitiful words. Small attempts at pointing out minor flaws (“It’s an ugly color!”) didn’t help him either. Sitting on the seventh bed, you felt like it was made from a cloud. And no pouts from the youngest hybrid could sway you.

“It feels like I’m on a cloud, I really like this one.” You sighed and leaned back, closing your eyes. “I think I’m taking this one. Scratch that, I know I’m taking this one.” Since entering the store you could feel yourself feel less tense and stressed, boy molding into the soft material. You were ready to take a nap right there and then. The mattress shifted and you cracked your eyes open to be met with a pair of gold eyes boring into your very soul. You heart nearly stopped in shock at the canines presence. You didn't even notice him near you.

“But why not just stay with us?”

Jungkook saved the puppy dog eyes for last. Large doe eyes were staring right into your soul, lower lip jutted out in a pout that could shake even the iciest of hearts. There was determination behind the adorable stunt that you could see; the sharpness in his eyes as he waited for the perfect moment to try and persuade you once again. And what better way than when you had your guard down? He was hovering over you, hands on either side of your head, knees placed on either side of your waist though not a single ounce of his weight touched you. He was holding his own weight easily, without so much as a second thought. Your cheeks heated up as you realized the position you were in and blinked rapidly up at him, trying to collect your scrambled thoughts.

Your heart hammered in your chest, nearly jumping up your throat. You willed it to be steady for your own sake. “Jungkook, we talked about this. You guys need space as a pack.” Your words were met with a frown tugging on his pout, eyes searching yours once more. But you had no idea what he was looking for. So you changed tactics instead. “Besides, I’m the worst to sleep near. I’m certain I snore a lot.” 

“I doubt that. Prove me wrong, spend the night with us. If we don’t mind then you stay.” His tone was firm, almost a command. Having him be this persistent should have made you roll your eyes and be snippy with the hybrid. But instead of feeling annoyed or even angry you felt yourself sag a little. Almost as if you were going to follow his orders, your eyes dilating ever so slightly as you stared up at him. Some type of trance seemed to take place over you, as if you were in your own little bubble with Jungkook where he was in control over everything. And somehow you were perfectly fine with that, hell you found yourself relaxing even more.

You couldn’t explain what your body was doing, you just felt the need to let go and let him take control. Maybe he was right… “Trust me, it’s best if you don’t. I-I also toss and turn all night.” You sounded weak, words spoken in a hush that not even you would have believed. 

The pout had disappeared moments ago, the moment you relaxed under him. Jungkook was now gazing at you with a small smirk and hooded eyes, the gold shining brilliantly against his dark lashes. He seemed to be in a trance himself as he slowly lowered himself closer to you. His body was a hair's width away from you now, if you so much as took a deep breath you would be pressed against him. You could feel his warmth radiate off of him, his voice dropping several octaves, almost a growl, as he spoke. “We can keep you in place. Namjoon-ah especially.” 

The next second happened too fast for you to grasp. The smallest of whimpers slid past your lips just as Jungkook yelped and disappeared from your view. It was as though the trance you were in shattered entirely and you sat up quickly, face ablaze as you looked around. Namjoon was gripping Jungkook by the back of his neck, the youngest looking almost ashamed with his head bent. Jin was reaching to slowly pull you up with sigh. There was no one else around (thankfully for you) and you nearly forgot where you were.

“Sorry about the brat, beautiful. He can be very persistent. We looked away for one moment and this happened.” His tone sounded remorseful, hands carefully pulling you up from the mattress. Those blue eyes carefully watched your face for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen. For you to do something or act out.

What even was that? You didn’t know what came over you or how it happened. Truth is you honestly didn’t want to know. Not yet at least. For now you were blaming it on your lack of intimacy. It has been quite some time since you were with someone…

Shaking your head you sighed. “It’s alright, he tried though. But I want this mattress.”

Taking note of which one you wanted, you continued down your list and got the rest of the things you needed. Namjoon kept Jungkook a bit away from you, the leader sending cool glares when he got too close. Jin was the one who did most of the talking with you, assisting you in certain items and his thoughts. An hour later and you were heading outside the store with your new belongings expected to be delivered that evening. While Jin was walking with you, Namjoon and Jungkook were following behind. The youngest was sulking while the leader was giving him a side eye. Whatever happened definitely wasn't approved by Namjoon.

'It's probably best if to keep my distance.' You thought, trying to keep some space between you and Jin. The husky sent you a questionable look that you ignored completely. You needed to get everything done before something else happens.

Next on the list was the hybrids themselves and getting them whatever they wanted or needed. You didn’t want them to feel rushed to shop, hence why you grabbed the furniture first. This ensured that they had plenty of time to browse and take a look around at whatever they needed. The store you had seen was not too far away; a mere few stores down was the famous store known for hybrids: Brand New Day.

BND was a large store that was filled to the brim with supplies for any type of Hybrid. It was a staple store in the community, being known for their amazing customer service and embracing acceptance towards all Hybrids. The four of you walked through the glass doors and towards the softer glow of lights that gave the store a warm appearance. The entire place felt like a giant hug; from the soft color scheme to the classic wooden floors. Displays scattered all around the store showcased all sorts of items, you felt lost looking around for a moment- where to even begin?

“Hi, I’m Lisa! Is there anything I can assist you with today?” A young woman approached your group, her hair glossy and as black as night. Her smile was kind, eyes meeting each person in your group. She wore an all black outfit with a beige apron, the BND logo embroidered on the front. Lisa looked relaxed and eager to help, eyes mainly trained on you since you were the owner of the trio.

You smiled back at her. “Hi, yes we need help. You see, I recently adopted my hybrids and…” You trailed off, obviously not knowing where to start. You feared you were going to look like an idiot and maybe even laughed at but the smile never once faltered. Lisa seemed to understand your predicament and give you a reassuring smile.

“I totally understand, it can be overwhelming. Especially if this is your first time.” Sliding her hand into her apron pocket she pulled out a small stack of pamphlets of various colors. “Now, what breed are each of your hybrids?”

You told her their names and their breed and she handed each one a pamphlet of different color. Jungkook had her faltering for a second, eyebrows knitting as she looked at the pamphlets. The wolfdog shifted his feet, gold eyes cast down as the seconds ticked by. Jungkook seemed uncomfortable as Lisa flipped through more pamphlets. You frowned, opening your mouth to ask what was wrong but Lisa was quick to perk up and smile at the two of you.

“Ah, here’s one for general canines and one for wolves! A crossbreed such as his is rare and while these are a good guide to buy the products you need, but Jungkook can absolutely browse and make his own selections. They all can really. These just help answer any questions you may have.” She explained, smiling gently at your group. 

It wasn’t hard to tell that Jungkook looked almost embarrassed about the whole thing. And to make matters worse he seemed to be watching your reactions, gauging how you reacted to it. Sending him a soft smile you nodded.

"Thank you for your help!" You truly meant it too; Lisa provided a warm presence and reassurance. The fear of being laughed at or frowned upon for your lack of knowledge was slowly melting away. There was something about her presence that made you feel better.

"It is not a problem, if any of you have any questions don't hesitate to ask! I'll be on the floor if you need to find me." One last cheerful smile and a small bow she made her way back to her associate duties.

The pack was looking around with wide eyes, glancing in every direction. BND certainly had a wide variety of items, which was incredible for those who had owners of different breeds, and easier to find what you were looking for. You were about to ask where they wanted to go to first but held back as you remembered how Namjoon behaved earlier; his iciness when Jungkook behaved in the furniture store was hard to ignore.

'It'll be best if I let them get their own items. Give them space.' You didn't want to cause another incident and have an angry wolf on your hands. Instead you gave each of them a small smile, ignoring the uneasiness you felt of your choice.

"Why don't you guys go and gather what you need? I'll have Lisa open a register for you to place your items as you go." Your voice was light and positive, watching their facial expressions, especially Namjoon's.

Those amber eyes met yours, the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly down. "Actually-"

"Sounds like a lovely idea, beautiful." Jin smiled at you, grabbing his pack mates arms. "We'll gather what we need. Is there a limit on what you wish to spend?"

"No, gather what you need or want. If it can fit in the car it can be purchased. Have fun!" You quickly turned on your heel, looking for Lisa. You didn't want Jungkook or Namjoon to try to persuade you to linger. Besides you assured yourself that they would love the space to shop freely without you hovering.

Spotting the raven haired woman, you explained your plan to her: leaving the trio inside the store to shop while you ran out to get a new phone. You were vague, explaining that your previous one was damaged from being left on top of the car. Whether she believed your or not did not matter and she only smiled and promised to keep an eye on the trio while you were out.

Exiting the store you nearly jogged to the phone store located several stores down. Not too far to cause worry and only a few minutes to walk to. Once inside you got down to business, determined to finish everything up as soon as possible.

Which happened to take over an hour.

You had to close your old account and open a new one with a whole new number (you claimed you had a stalker named Jackson) and decided to add three more lines to your account. What took you the longest was picking out which color phone to give to which hybrid. It was so slow in the store that several phone service representatives began to vote for colors for each hybrid (you did have fun with that though) and settled on three new colors along with one for you.

Once they were set up, you were handed a bag and free to dash back to Brand New Day, mentally praying that nothing bad had happened. However opening the glass door you stumbled upon a heartbreaking scene.

Jungkook was alone and curling in on himself, tail tucked between his legs, merle ears so low you could hardly see them from his fluffy hair. Soft whines poured from his hunched figure, back starting to shake. Lisa was next to him, her words soft as she tired to calm the canine down. She didn't touch him however; she was attempting at keeping his personal space for his own sake. But her words were falling on deaf ears.

Your heart splintered at the site of the hybrid shaking and turning his head to the side and away from Lisa and the door. A single tear rolled down his cheek, lips trembled as another whine came through. He sounded almost as if he was going to start howling. A wave of worry finally got you rushing forward, sliding towards your hybrid.

“Jungook?” Your voice was high pitched, the worry leaking out into the open. Your own eyes were wide with worry as you tried to make your way towards the hybrid.

Hearing your voice he snapped his head to you, his ears perked up and twitched at the sound of your voice. Gold eyes brimming with tears. It only took a millisecond before you were nearly tackled. Strong arms encased you close and tightly as though you’d disappear if he loosened his grip. His nose was pressed into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply before he sighed. “Couldn’t find you. I kept looking. Thought you left.” Although his words were muffled in your skin, you could hear them perfectly clear.

‘Was he left behind before?’ You had to wonder if this was something he had experienced, given that it was the first thing he thought of when he couldn’t see you. The mere thought had you holding him just as tight, a hand running through his locks. “I’m sorry, I had to grab something. Besides I can’t leave, not without my hybrids.” 

Your eyes met Lisa and you mouthed a thank you to her, and she smiled back and nodded to the register where you spotted a confused looking Jin setting some clothes down and heading over to the two of you. "Jungkook? Y/n? What happened?" The concern in his voice had you feeling a little safer; knowing he was worried about you was almost reassuring in a way you couldn't explain.

"I had to run an errand, Jungkook couldn't find me and thought I left you guys..." You trialed off, feeling guilt eat at you now. You honestly didn't think it was going to take that long to get everything done, thankfully he only just realized that you were gone.

Jungkook peeked up from your neck and looked at Jin, the two staring at one another for a few moments before Jin sighed. "I'm glad to see your okay, Y/n." His lips curled down however, eyebrows knitting as his bright blue eyes pierced into yours. "However, you need to tell us next time. What if something were to happen? We wouldn't know where you were or went to."

His tone wasn't condescending, but there was authority behind it. An order of sorts. It had you looking down, feeling small and weak for a moment. "I told Lisa, I wanted you guys to have some shopping and fun without me breathing down your necks."

Hearing this had the pair of hybrids looking at you with confusion, Jungkook pulling away from you. His lips parted and whether he had a questions or statement you wouldn't find out; Namjoon's voice broke the three of you out of the quiet stare down you guys had going on.

"I think we got everything we need." The ashy haired wolf approached the group, eyes lingering on everyone with an eyebrow raised. Seeing the questionable look you jumped away from Jungkook, creating some distance from yourself and the others.

"If you guys got what you needed we can pay and head out." Ducking your head, you headed towards the register where Lisa stood with a smile. Everything was rung up and ready to go, two shopping carts filled with items the hybrids had picked out. With a quick good day your group left; Jungkook and Jin pushing the carts towards the car while you gripped the single shopping bag from earlier.

"Y/n?" Namjoon was standing right behind you, his deep voice making you freeze on the spot. Slowly you turned and looked at him with eyes slightly large.

You managed to squeak out a 'yes?' and stare at the wolf, wondering what he was going to do. Was he going to go off on your for what happened in the furniture store? Or for leaving and making Jungkook upset? You were on the verge of fidgeting the longer he looked at you. Those eyes scanning over your every feature making your heart beat faster. It was soft, barely heart but you know you did: Namjoon let out a soft whine in the back of his throat, his hand quickly reaching out for one of yours.

"What's wrong?" He sounded concerned, his voice coming out in a hush. His thumb was brushing slow circles on the back of your hand, the gentle action helping quiet your hammering heart. "Did something happen?"

"I... I just thought you guys would want space as a pack." You wanted to kick yourself for sounding so weak and quiet. It seemed to be happening a lot as of late and it bothered you a bit. Closing your eyes you decided to be honest and not dance around the bush. "After all that happened today, I thought it was what you wanted. You seemed upset at the furniture store-"

"Oh angel." Namjoon cut you off with a sigh, his hand pulling you closer. Your eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze head on. The new nickname had your cheeks turning rosy. "I'm not upset. At least, not with you. Jungkook... he did something that I disapproved of." Reading your confused expression he only brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips to the back of it, breathing your scent in deeply. "I'll explain once you read our files, angel."

When you only nodded he raised an eyebrow at you, not pleased with no verbal response. He raised his eyebrow for a second before his teeth nipped at your knuckles playfully, making you leap back and scowl. "Fine, yes!" He laughed at your response, gently pulling you towards the car.

"Let's get the groceries and head home." He laughed again, and looking up you spotted dimples with his wide smile. Grinning back at him you nodded in agreement with only one thought on your mind: You really liked how he said 'home'.

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It was eerily quiet in the large vehicle. The soft sound of the heater flowing through the vents from the front seat would have created a beautiful little bubble in the car. If it weren’t for the two passengers sitting in the back seats, shivering in their thin jackets. They learned quickly that the vents were either broken or the driver simply refused to turn the back vents on. The teasing of the heat that barely reached them would have created a sour mood.  But not today. 

No, today was indeed a perfect day in their eyes. And no amount of cold could dampen the light that their eyes held as they watched the large city come into view. Towering skyscrapers twinkling in the late afternoon, their lights illuminating the grays and whites from all around. The lights seemed to glow brighter as if sensing their hopeful hearts. He pressed his head against the glass, ignoring the biting chill of the surface and watched with wide eyes as the world around them zoomed by. What would they look like? For months he had envisioned what their savior would look like. He wondered what their hobbies were, their favorites, he wanted to know it all. 

The daydream came to an abrupt halt much like the car that screeched to a stop on the side of the road, right outside of an apartment complex. It towered and loomed over the pair as they stared with mouths slightly agape. Was this the place? Was this where they were meant to go? The company gave them zero information on the matter with the exception of one name.

“Get out.” 

The driver’s voice was as cold as the winter winds. Beady, dark eyes glaring at the two from the rearview mirror. One hand was gripping the wheel and the other was on the gear shift. He wanted them out as soon as possible. Obviously he wasn’t a fan of hybrids. It was a common occurrence but still the hate in his eyes had the pair tensing up. 

“B-but which one do we-” The eldest tried to speak up, the cool glare already rattling his nerves. Even his sensitive ears he could hear the insecurity and softness in his words. He wanted to sound brave for his pack but it was hard when his own heartbeat betrayed him. He could have spoken up, perhaps sound stronger but those words died on his lips as the man in front of them laughed. It was scratchy and deep, full of mockery. 

“Like I care. I was told to deliver you two here, nothing more, nothing less. So get out. Now.” He tapped the gas pedal once, cackling as the vehicle bucked forward sending the pair forward into the front seats.

Anger brewed inside but he knew arguing with the older man would only cause problems. Gripping his younger brother's hand he gently pulled him out the doors and into the cold winter air. The lightweight jackets they wore were no match for the icy winds and snowflakes that whipped around them. The moment the door was closed the car screeched off and out of sight. 

“H-hyung, what now?” Arms crossed over his chest, the youngest leaned into the eldest to try and get warm. Pointed ears flattened against his head and bushy tail wrapping around himself as protection. “Sh-sh-should we kn-knock?” 

They both knew that wouldn't work. At least not for them; two hybrids knocking on every door would only have Hybrid Protective Services called. And going back was not an option, at least not for them. Being homeless and living on the street would have been better than returning. Anything would have been better than returning to their company.

Today was supposed to be the start of a new life for them. A new chapter with possibilities and hope for a better future. A fresh start. Was this all a joke? Fear began to creep in as the thought of this all being one large prank grew; giving the two of them one last bit of hope only to have it ripped from them. It was very possible, knowing their company, and the thought had the eldest almost spiraling when a soft voice broke the chain of thoughts.

“Are you two from Faux Inc?” 

A young woman stood behind them, shocking the pair for a moment. Dark hair was glittered in snow flakes, with equally dark eyes watching the two with curiosity and, from what they could tell, hope. She wore a professional pantsuit with a thick outer coat to help protect against the harsh weather. The air she had was calm and collected, though not cool- she was someone who felt dependable, a safe place to land. 

The youngest perked up, tail wagging at the young woman. “Are you Mr. Takoda?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice, fingers gripping his hyung’s jacket. 

She smiled and swallowed the giggle that tried to escape and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. My name is Soojin Seo, I was one of his three assistants. I was informed by your late owner to provide you with a home for a while, letting his niece get settled in before escorting you both to the home.”

“Late owner? Mr. Takoda has passed?” The eldest blinked in surprise, turning to the other. This was not something that they were told. 

“That is correct. However do not worry; his niece will be your new owner. She is slowly adjusting with the changes.” Soojin smiled at the two softly, knowing this was a confusing situation. She could only do her best to help the pair while under her temporary care. Takoda was a well planned out man; she had her instructions and would follow them perfectly. “While she is getting settled, you two will be with me for a bit.”  As she spoke she walked towards a large white SUV, gracing them with a reassuring smile. “I can answer all your questions to the best of my ability on the way back to my home. I’ll do my best to ensure your safety and happiness.”

The two shared a look with the same thought bouncing between the two of them: they had nothing left to lose anyway. Perhaps it was blind trust and the cold, or maybe it was the desperation of wanting a home. Regardless the pair climbed into the warm car, their hands clasped together as questions crept to the tip of their tongues. 

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[partyhorn]

Have u ever posted your comic or animation workflow anywhere? Im super curious on how you tackle the process, especially not using a drawing tablet. I know you have a very simple (and adorable) style so that probably helps in terms of workflow -- Im just curious about the steps you take.

Thank you! With both comics and animation my key thing is to not spend too much time on any particular thing, just draw loose and fast. Honestly the only downside to drawing with a mouse is that I can tell my arm has extremely specific muscle memory regarding it- if my mouse breaks and I get a new one I have to spend a good month or so just letting my hand get used to it again lol. Same with if my setup gets readjusted too much- right now my setup is my mouse on one of those padded mousepads, on top of 2 books, with my elbow resting on my 3DS case (I'll get an actual pillow or something for it eventually lol). But luckily thanks to this I suffer very minimal wrist pain 👍

(...Okay I started to go really in depth in my process here, so sorry if this is way more than what you were asking. Putting it under a readmore just to save space lol)

With MFM in particular, I start by writing out the entire script for the next story arc, which really is just all of the dialogue and vague notes about any important actions. Then I do the paneling with very loose stick-figure like sketches of where the characters are and what they're doing. I prefer having very little planning when it comes to character poses and panel shapes, coming up with those on the fly makes things much more exciting and faster to make. But it's the opposite with dialogue... it needs to be 100% FINAL before I draw a single line lol.

That's part of my script for my most recent chapter, as well as what my extremely loose goofy thumbnail sketching is like. I write the script as one big thing and don't separate it into pages until I actually start drawing- then I go and color change it just to keep track of what dialogue goes on each page

After that, I go back and do the ACTUAL sketch, as well as the lettering (I don't believe this is how it's done professionally. I used to do lettering as the very last step in the process... but then found it hard to cram speech bubbles in the right places lmao.) After that is lineart, coloring, background flat colors, then shading/rendering for all of it. I do each step in batches, as in I sketch out ALL pages of a chapter before moving to lineart, I line ALL pages before starting coloring, etc. I find it way easier to be productive when it's broken up like that, though when I first started the comic I used to draw each page to completion before starting the next (but also, the comic's style was DRASTICALLY simpler back then haha)

(Unfortunately I merged some of the shading to the background flat colors so it's not entirely accurate... oops) FireAlpaca has a sand texture feature that I only found out about last year- adding that to the backgrounds makes them look 10x better with WAY less effort.

With animation, it depends on the project. For simple 5-10 second animation I make for fun, there's very little planning lol. I skip some steps in the process- I'll sketch out the keyframes (and maybe any difficult inbetweens if necessary), line those, then go straight into making linework inbetweens. I'm not a cleanup artist and have no experience in that, so I always find trying to line my rough animation makes everything jittery and wobbly. If I do it with a clean line from the start then I can avoid that and save a lot of time 👍

For my bigger projects (such as the Parvey cartoon and the MFM Kickstarter trailer), I do the whole animatic with final audio first and foremost, with the animatic being almost like the keyframes. I split them up into individual shots, .mp4 files anywhere between 1-30 seconds usually, and animate those one at a time. I'm a huge fan of free to use programs and try to use them as much as I possibly can, here's a list of the ones I use:

FireAlpaca- for the actual drawing part itself (storyboarding/animating/etc). FireAlpaca has a feature that lets you export every frame as it's own drawing, as well as an onion skin mode

Windows Movie Maker- for compiling all of those frames into video format, creating individual shots. If you upload all of your frames and set them to around 0.08 seconds, it equals about 12fps (I usually animate at 0.10 seconds/10fps, its a bit slower but looks nice)

Onlinesequencer.net- for making music. It's the place I've made all of my songs on, like the timeloop song, hyperworkaholic, and the background music for the MFM Kickstarter trailer.

Audacity- for editing audio/music. Also great for recording things directly from your desktop

DaVinci Resolve- for editing and putting together all of the shots into one big video. Can get kind of intensive on the computer during rendering, so watch out.

YouCut (app)- also for editing and compiling shots, I used this one a lot a couple years back but I'm not sure how well it holds up. Doesn't need much phone storage to download but needs a lot to render videos.

MS Paint (yes really)- for typing up text. FireAlpaca has a text option but I don't like it as much as Paint's.

...The only thing I genuinely can't do alone is voice acting. Luckily there's a big voice acting community on Twitter and they're all amazing to work with!

This got... way more in depth than I planned for it to be, so sorry if this is way more than what you were asking lol. But that's my general process when it comes to my art 👍

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Behind the Seams: Part IV

{ Behind the Seams: Part III | Part III: Edgestitch | Series Masterlist }

Welcome to the second instalment of Behind the Seams! For those new to the series, this is a behind-the-scenes deep dive that I post in between chapters for those who are interested in taking a peek at my writing process (mainly because I update so slowly lol). There are spoilers for Edgestitch below the cut, so if you're not caught up, I suggest you come back when you are!

Current status: 3.6k unfinished rough draft

Initial thoughts: The last chapter laid down a few anchor points that I hope will carry the story forward for the next 2 to 3 parts. I still don't have an overarching plan for this series, and there is no 'plot' to speak of other than the unfolding of the relationship between Joel and Pin, and I'm good with that!

After the excitement of the last chapter, it took me a while to get back into the Seams mindset. While we resolved a tiny bit of the sexual tension last chapter, there is still a lot to unpack between these two. The camera is zooming in for this chapter, where we throw Joel and Pin together again, but in a less accident-prone manner as they take things into their own hands rather than leave it up to chance.

The challenge: One word - intimacy. On both their parts.

As Pin alluded to in the last chapter, it's been a long time anyone has even kissed her, let alone anything else. There will be some action in this chapter - I haven't decided to which degree yet - but I want to do it in a way that is sensitive to her history (even though I will leave it vague).

As for Joel, it's also one word - Tess. My Google doc right now cuts off at the beginning of the intimate scene, because I haven't figured out what he's thinking just yet in relation to her. As much as he's falling for Pin, I imagine he might be confused, guilty, probably in denial about his grief. I don't want Seams to get too heavy, and I might not be exploring these themes in Part IV just yet, but these are themes that I'm looking to explore in some way in the series.

Ellie: I was so bowled over by everyone's reaction to Ellie in the last chapter! That really gave me such a confidence boost, and I'm so happy to say that our favourite gremlin is making more of a cameo this chapter. She's great comedic relief while bringing out the dad side of Joel that I just love dipping into.

Joel: Many of you have brought up you're enjoying Joel's thoughts about Jackson and Sarah, and you don't understand how much it means to me. Getting into Joel's head has been one of my favourite things about this series, especially with him trying to figure out how to exist in this place after 20 years of just surviving. Ellie allowing himself to get back in touch with his dad side is another angle that I love delving into. The instincts have never left him, and I'm having so much fun bringing out that side of him.

Something fun: As I teased right here, the white undervest will make a return, and yes, Joel will be sweaty AF in it - I wonder why 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you for reading if you've made it this far! As with the last chapter, it helps so much putting my thought process into words, to make space in my head so that I can push forward with the writing. Thank you for indulging me, I hope you enjoyed this one ❤️ I'm always open to chatting, so don't be shy!

#behind the seams #fuckyeahseams #seams iv #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [8]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,980

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, mentions of canon violence, reader goes a little off the rails, a whole lot of arguing, description of drowning (it's a metaphor), mentions of death lol, mentions of canon decapitation (I mean Jason did do that), one of Dick's thoughts is inspired by him killing the Joker in Joker: Last Laugh because I mean hey, I promise I do fix everyone's dynamics with Bruce later I like when the entire batfam gets along, mentions of canon drug use and making a drug

Summary:❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: It's long again but it's important lmao Jason is in this chapter, just hang in there lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The not-to-so funeral, funeral, is mostly a blur. For obvious reasons, the casket was closed the whole time. To you, it didn’t matter. You saw him. You saw him before and you saw him after. His mangled face stares back at you in the mirror. You didn’t need to see him like that again.

Bruce has the funeral within a day and a half, not informing any of the Titans or anyone. Molly only came because you knew and she came time to get there. You want to fight and scream about it but at this point, you're too exhausted. And you're so numb. And in pain, you're numb and in pain which doesn’t make any sense but everything hurts while you feel nothing at all. It’s like drowning but without the panic.

Your head throbs and that’s always the start. Pressure builds as you try to hold your breath because letting in the loss of Jason seems to be the worst possible thing you could ever do. With every breath you take, that’s less he got to take. Your head bangs and throbs, wailing for you to breathe and let the pain in for just a second. And once you do, it’s water rushing into your lungs with a single gasp.

Drowning is suffocating and agonizing. It’s as if your lungs are being stabbed over and over with tiny needles with every breath you try to take. Your lungs are filled with cement and stabbing, weighing you down with every desperate gasp. The water sloshes around, seeping into all of your open nerves with striking electricity. It’s the worst pain of your entire life.

You don’t care anymore. It’s hard and it’s like these are the longest days of your life. There’s just pain and numbness and anger. That’s all there is now. So, you only come out of her room for the bathroom and to watch Jason’s casket be lowered into the ground. You don’t leave your bed or say a word to Bruce for the first two days.

By day three, some of the sadness and exhaustion has manifested into more anger. It's all anger at the world and Bruce and the Joker and yourself. You're even, selfishly, a little bit mad at Jason even though you don't want to be. But, the anger builds until you can't sit still anymore and you set a plan into action.

You warned Bruce. You told him the Joker's death was inevitable. You'd do it if the Joker ever touched someone you cared about, if he ever touched Jason. Jason is dead and as far as you're concerned, your loyalty to Bruce and his morals died with him. So, you start a plan to break into Arkham and kill him yourself.

You wait until Bruce is asleep before you sneak into the Batcave and start your research. The Joker doesn’t get to just get away this time. He killed your mom. And now he killed Jason. You're fed the fuck up with Bruce letting him off. So, you plan and plot and look at blueprints of Arkham, trying to figure out how you can get in, kill him, and get out.

Jason always told you the grudges might help, something you find odd given him not being a grudge holder. But, being mad and wanting revenge against the Joker, is a lot better than dealing with the pain of losing him. So, you plan and plan until the late morning.

Dick and Gar show up that afternoon from San Francisco. Bruce told them you haven't left your room or eaten anything since Jason died. Dick is the one that tries to get to you first, figuring maybe he can break a little bit of the ice like when he brought you back to the tower.

He knocks on your door despite Bruce saying you won’t answer or come out. But Dick tries anyway and when he doesn’t get an answer, he opens the door anyway. You were once in his care. Jason was once in his care.

“Hey, you awake?” Dick asks, sticking his hands in his pockets as your back is faced away from him, laying on your side in one of Jason's favorite hoodies.

You ignore him, keeping your stare at the wall. Talking seems like it will be too much. It'll be him saying he's sorry for your loss and then you'll start crying again. It'll be him giving you a look and you hate getting looks. It's not Dick's fault. You're not mad at him, you can't afford to waste your energy being mad at him when it's already torn between grief-filled revenge and sobbing uncontrollably. The best thing you can do for yourself is ignore him. To ignore everyone. It's to push them away.

“Bruce said you haven’t been eating or leaving your room.” Dick walks further into your room, moving to get a look at you and he can see you're awake now but you don’t look at him. “You need to eat.” Dick states but you still won’t look at him. “I know it’s…hard. I know Jason meant a lot to you. You two went through a lot together. But, he wouldn’t want you to live like this.”

Dick says that on purpose, thinking maybe it’ll get a rise out of you. Maybe you’d say something like he wouldn’t know because he never knew Jason or he didn’t care enough about Jason to know what he would want. But you say nothing, you don’t look at him, and you don’t move. Dick would think you were dead if it were for the blankets moving with every breath you take.

“Okay, well, I’ll be down the hall. Gar is here and the other Titans will be here in a few days. You can come talk if you want.” Dick offers but again, nothing from you so Dick leaves you to yourself.

The tears come back as soon as you hear the door close. The weight in your chest is so heavy you can’t even bear it. You don’t know how. Things get heavy, you put it on Jason. Jason was so good at carrying your weight for you and now he’s gone. And you have no idea how you're ever supposed to carry the weight of losing him. You shouldn’t have to.

It’s not fair. It was senseless and cruel and brutal. And you think he must have been scared in his final moments. You wonder if he knew you’d be looking for him, maybe he thought you’d come to save him like you always did. But you let him down. A sob rips through your throat at the very thought and you can’t do it.

Gar tries again a few hours later. He’s going through it, too. It’s different with Dick. Dick got to know Jason better over the last few months but he didn’t know him like Gar did. They were best friends and they talked everyday. He’s the best friend Gar ever had and he’s going through the loss of it, too. But, a part of him is worried he’s going to lose you with him.

But, similar to Dick, you don't say anything and you feel bad about it even. You know it hurts him, too. They were best friends but it's too damn hard to look at him. You know, to some extent, Jason's blood is also on your hands. How are you supposed to tell Gar that? You can't and you swear you do not deserve the empathy that radiates from Gar. So, you ignore him only for him to sit with you anyway and turn on one of your mutually favorite movies.

Gar doesn't give up and you don't have to talk but he knows being alone in grief is not going to do you any good. Sitting with you is something he can do and if you decide still, not to talk, that's fine. But, he wants to be here just in case you do. And about halfway through the movie, you finally cave and turn around to face him with tear-stained cheeks.

"I know." Gar nods softly. "I miss him, too." Gar says softly.

You let out a sob, slamming your eyes shut. Gar reaches over and pulls you into a hug. The two of you break into each other’s arms. How are you supposed to figure out how to live your lives without him in them anymore? You’ve done it with your parents and Donna. You have done it and you can do it again but how? It’s so damn hard and it just keeps happening. You both keep losing people. How much loss can two people even take before it all becomes too much? You swears this is it. This is too much. Jason Todd was the last straw. You're tired of the circle.

Molly comes by the next day. You haven't been answering her texts or calls which isn't surprising. Molly decided to give you a couple of days to be alone before stopping by again. She needed those couple of days to gather herself, too. Jason was her best friend, too. but, Molly has something interesting to tell you and she hopes, given finding out about the vigilante life, maybe it'll get you to at least get out of bed.

"Hey." Molly calls and you wave your arm haphazardly at her from your bed. "I have something you might wanna know." Molly comes and plops down beside you.

You turn around slowly, eyes narrowing at her. You don't say anything, however, you decide just to listen. A really big part of you wants to push Molly away, too. It seems safer that way. But, it also seems cruel to do it again. You did it once and it was always something you regretted.

"Has Dick or Bruce mentioned the new crime lord?" Molly asks and you raise a brow. Molly asked around about him a little bit and that's what he's being referred to apparently. "Well, two nights ago, he showed up at my apartment with Diego."

"What?" You question immediately, your voice cracked and rugged.

"Yeah, he just showed up with him. He told me to get better locks?" Molly shakes her head. "I have no idea but Diego was fine."

"How would he even know about Diego and you?" You ask and Molly was right, it does pique your interest a little bit. You haven't heard anything about the new guy but it is interesting. New crime lord shows up and he drops off a missing kid unharmed? That shit is weird, even for Gotham.

"I have no idea. But, he seemed...familiar, I think but also really intimidating." Molly shakes her head. "I don't know but I thought you'd wanna know. Did you want to look into him for me?" Molly asks casually and hopefully.

You see through it. You know what Molly is trying to do and maybe it'll work a little bit. You're already looking into how you can get away with killing the Joker. You could squeeze this guy into it. Maybe it'll be a good distraction from the stabbing and suffocating pain of grief. You always did like to run from things that hurt. This is an opportunity to do just that and for a good cause. He knows where Molly lives and that's a problem.

"Are you just trying to get me out of bed?"

"A little bit." Molly laughs softly. "Jason would go after him, or look into him." 

You let out a scoff. "Yeah, probably." You roll your eyes. "Fine, but only because he showed up at your fucking apartment and that's weird as fuck. You do need better locks though."

"Yeah, I'll get to that." Molly quips back.

"Still have a Wayne credit card, want it to buy better locks?" You offer.

"You just wanna spite Bruce."

"And make sure you're safe. Sick of losing people."

"At least you're talking." Molly smiles widely.

"Yeah." You answer shortly.

That night, after everyone has gone into their rooms for the night, you go back to the Batcave and continue planning. But, on top of that, you do what you promised Molly. You start looking into the new so-called crime lord. He showed up at her apartment. That's reason enough for concern and you aren't about to lose another person. And of course, Bruce already has a file on him.

According to the file, he's already decapitated six men of the major drug families in Gotham. You give the screen a grimace reading the words and then going to autopsy reports. Decapitation is a personal way of murder. That seems weird for someone willing to drop off a kidnapped kid but you just keep reading over everything. You find out he also killed Pete Hawkins, this time with a bullet to the head which explains how he found Diego. But, you still find that confusing as you go back to Pete Hawkins' file.

He was just working with the Joker, not other families. Why the hell would the guy target scum like Pete Hawkins when he's going after the families? Going after the families means going after the drug trade in Gotham, not whatever weird shit the Joker had planned with kids. This whole thing is weird and if you were being honest, a little annoying. The Joker was just the first part of your plan.

The next step is men like Pete Hawkins, people working with the Joker. The new guy managed to already beat you to the punch and you find that to be annoying. There are others though, at least, and you can still target them as long as this guy doesn't. You're done with the way this city chews and eats the innocent. Bruce's ways clearly don't work enough. So, you continue your research spread across the new guy and the best way to get into Arkham.

The following night, Barbara comes over to have a drink with Bruce and Dick. Dick convinced her to come talk to Bruce. You can hear them from your room. They're laughing and you don't know how they even managed to get a laugh out. But, it piques your curiosity. Gar told you earlier that he's worried Dick might have you committed if you don't get up and try. This seems like an excuse enough to make an appearance, if for no other reason, than to just listen. They're talking about Jason.

"So, then, Jason corners Mad Hatter and he starts swearing at him like going off." Barbara says and you stop just before the entrance of the room to listen to the story. You lean against the wall, sucking in a breath. "Like 'you short fucking hat-wearing fuck' fuck you'. And Hatter stands there stunned that Robin's cussing him out. And then Bruce came in and do you remember what you said to Jason?" Barbara laughs.

"What?" Dick asks.

"Watch your language." Bruce says.

You gain a soft smile because that sounds like Jason. He'd tell anyone off. He didn't give a fuck who they were. You wish you could have seen the look on Hatter's face. But the smile falls short as Bruce brings up the GCPD finding eight bodies, clearly the new guy that showed up at Molly's apartment. He asks if they know who the killer is and this is why you can't stand him.

He never fucking stops. Jason is barely in the ground and he just keeps fucking moving. At least you're looking for revenge and looking into someone who might be a threat to Molly. Bruce is just doing it because it's Bruce. Not because he actually cares about Jason or the people this guy is gonna hurt. And he has the audacity to call what's going on in Gotham a war. for the soul of the city. You almost walk away but Barbara starts talking and you always liked her.

"I don't know, Bruce. Calling it a war feels like trying to justify all the lives that've been lost."

"I don't know, Bruce. Calling it a war feels like trying to justify all the lives that've been lost."

"Your father and I knew protecting Gotham required real sacrifice."

You nearly scream. He doesn't fucking get it. Innocent people shouldn't have to be sacrificed for a city. That isn't justice and you want to sit down and question his morals right to his face. Innocent people being sacrificed by Bruce and the GCPD is fine, but killing people like the damn Joker isn't justice? The logic doesn't add up and it's like some sick-ass game Bruce is playing here. But with people's lives. Maybe he can't kill them because he's too similar to the bad guys he lets live.

"My father died from a heart attack after being frozen in a block of ice by a man wearing a fucking refrigerator suit." Venom seeps into Barabara's voice.

"Mr. Freeze." Bruce corrects and you nearly bang your head against the wall.

"I know who he is." Barbara snaps back and there's a pause for a few seconds. "That's how you see my father, isn't it? As a sacrifice? You dragged him into this insanity. Just like you did Dick and Jason. And now y/n."

"It was a long time ago." Dick finally chimes in and you want to know how Dick doesn't see that Bruce has manipulated him so damn bad it's almost Stockholm syndrome.

"You know what he did to you, Dick. You almost lost yourself because Bruce weaponized your grief." Barabara says. "And Jason? You took another kid who was lost and angry and alone and convinced him that he'd be invincible if he put on a mask. No more Robins, Bruce. I chose to put the cowl on to go out there as Batgirl when the Joker shot me. That wasn't your fault. But you drove Dick away."

"We worked it out." Dick defends Bruce again.

You roll your eyes and you want to put him under a microscope and figure out exactly why he defends him so much. Apparently, his loyalty is deep but Bruce keeps Dick in the dark. And you know a little secret that might change that. Dick warned you about Bruce. You know he doesn't fully forgive him or trust him. And you're going to make sure it stays that way. You're all sacrifices to the city anyway, right?

"Whether you've forgiven him or not, he drove you away. And he put Jason in the ground. You would think that after everything that the Joker's done to so many people you would have found a way to keep him locked up. But part of me, a big part of me, believes that you want him to escape. So, you can keep hiding from yourself behind that mask. You're as crazy as the fucking Joker." Barbara spits and you smile. She's right and someone should have said it a long time ago.

The room falls silent and you think now is a good time to make yourself known. You agree with Barabra but there are some things you have to say and some things they need to hear, too.

"It's true." Your voice is groggy and cracked as you stand in the doorway, the entire room putting their eyes on you. "Babs is right." You glance to her and offer a nod.

"You're up." Dick's face softens.

"Yeah, heard you guys laughing. Heard the Hatter story. But, let's not get our hopes up here, Dickolas. She's fucking right, it's your fucking fault Jason's dead." You turn your attention to Bruce. "I told you."

"What do you mean you told him?" Dick questions, looking between the two of you.

"I told him Joker was gonna kill someone he cared about eventually, you or Jason and he didn't listen. He never fucking listens." You scoff with the shake of your head as you tug the sleeves of Jason's hoodie over your hands. "I told you, all you had to was let him be fucking Robin or get it through his head that you love him and all you did was fucking fail in both departments." You let out a heavy breath as you lock eyes with Bruce. "And you just...pinned him and Dick against each other so he never fucking felt good enough and anyone willing to actually listen to him for five minutes could figure that out but you just...don't fucking listen. Had you just let him be Robin or been fucking better, he'd be alive!" You let out an exasperated yell.

To be fair, you've been wanting to tell Bruce off for months. You know all of the weird ass training he put Jason and Dick through. Between the cabin and the contract about not letting fear in or whatever, it's insanity. The two of them might have been partially raised by Bruce but from where you're standing, Bruce viewed them as weapons of his own molding. It's wrong even if that was never his intention and all that training was supposed to be to keep them safe. It's still wrong.

"That's not fair." Dick states firmly.

"No, you wanna know what's not fair? The fact I lost my mom because of Bruce. And I just lost my favorite person in the entire world because of him. He was it for me, Dick." You grit your teeth as tears brim your eyes. "So, I don't care!" You turn your attention back to Bruce."You got him fucking killed! Remember what I told you? The guilt eating you alive yet?" You snarl at him as your voice cracks.

"I am sorry for your loss of your mother. I tried talking with Jason--" Bruce starts.

"I don't wanna hear it. Fuck you. I don't care!" You yells at him as your voice cracks. "It wasn't fucking good enough. You might not have taken the crowbar to his face but you might well have." Tears leak from your eyes as you wipe them quickly. "How dare you sit in here and laugh with them over Jason, a kid you never fucking bothered to understand or actually protect. Fuck you, Bruce." You shake your head and you turn to Dick. Your loyalty was always with Jason, not Bruce. "Hey, Dick, you say you forgive him, right? Why don't you go check the Batcomputer and let me know if you still do? You're really gonna wanna see what he's got planned." You taunt.

"What's on the Batcomputer?" Dick looks to Bruce with suspicion. His stomach flips and a part of him actually doesn't want to know. He knows it's not going to be anything good and he really thought, just maybe, things would be a little different. 

"It's nothing." Bruce states. "I understand this is difficult. It is difficult for all of us—"

"It was not hard for you to order the autopsy. For what? He was beaten to death. We all know how he died. You had no fucking problem burying him without his fucking friends being here. His family. All you care about is yourself and covering this shit up so you can move onto the next fucked up kid you can weaponize all over again."

Dick says your name sternly, trying to get you to backtrack to the Batcomputer. "What are you talking about?"

"Pictures of kids, profiles on them. Street kids, that's the nothing Bruce is talking about." You explain as you look between Babarara and Bruce. You might have went digging on the Batcomputer, expecting Bruce to be looking for a new Robin. "Should I tell Dick and Babs what you asked me the day of the bullshit funeral you tried to throw?"

"What did you do?" Barbara asks Bruce, her voice annoyed and protective.

"He asked me if I wanted to be Robin, to honor Jason." You roll your eyes as you let out a cold and bitter laugh. "You never gave a shit about him. You aren't even grieving him. Someone who's grieving doesn't go recruit more kids to fill the role that got another one killed. It fucked up Dick. You killed Jason. What's fucking next?" You look to Dick. "You warned me about him. So, don't sit here and pretend like all's forgiven. You knew he was dangerous. To some extent otherwise, you wouldn't have warned me. Every time he asked me for something, I remembered what you told me and I said no. I won't end up like you and Jason. I am not one of his sidekicks. I am my own fucking person. I didn't get to pick my powers but I get to pick what I do with them. Because of you. Don't pretend like you actually think he changed."

"I'm sorry, what the hell has been going on here?" Barbara looks to Bruce.

"I think it's time we stop pretending like Batman's ways are the only good ones because they don't fucking work. Batman has helped the city, sure, but uh, he's also caused it a lot of harm. And now you've taken my favorite people. So, fuck you and fuck your morals. Babs is right. Fuck you. I'm going back to bed." You turn around before looking back to Dick. "I'm serious, check the Batcomputer." You look to Bruce. "My loyalty was always with Jason. It was never with you. That is the only reason I went by your rules and that's why I'll tell Dick everything. I don't have to protect Jason by protecting you anymore. You were his hero. But you were never mine. I hope that guilt eats you alive like it is for me." You state before walking off, the room confused in silence.

You head back to your room and lay back on the bed. You hate that your eyes start burning as the lump becomes so large you can't even swallow. It's not fair. Everything sets you off. You want to stop crying and shaking. You hate the nausea that comes with it and you miss him so fucking much.

Your hand grips the necklace tight as if the pure strength of your fist can bring him back. Every single second is agonizing. All you wants is for him to walk through those doors again and greet you with some lame pet name. You'll take Acid Fingers at this point. None of it matters anymore.

You close your eyes and you see either his face brutalized or that grin he'd give you right before he had a bad idea you'd follow without even thinking. His canines were always a little pointy and looked like fangs in the right light. Somehow it always suited him. And you miss him.

You remember your first night in Gotham that feels like ages ago. And how it felt to be back with him. The void in your heart, the one you didn't even know was there, was suddenly not so hollowed anymore. You touched the bruise on his face and you thought maybe he'd explode from the contact. You always wondered if maybe he could hear your heart whenever you did something like that. It was always the only sound you could hear. He made you so nervous and happy. A part of you thought, maybe, you weren't meant to be happy in love. You always ran from it anyway but Jason made it so easy. He always made it easy to love him even when it was hard. And you don't know how you're supposed to just...cope. To live every day and never hear his laugh and see that grin again. Or hear his voice. You don't even have a voicemail from him. You want him back.

The next morning, Dick walks into your room. He stands in the doorway and he hates he's even the one to have to break this news. But, someone has to and it needs to be him. And you have to be the first person he tells. Bruce, apparently, took all of the arguments a little too close to heart last night.

"Are you awake?" Dick asks.

You stick your arm up and wave at him haphazardly, not wanting to talk. You're still coming down from last night. Gar came in after, he heard the arguing, and checked on you. But, even trying to talk to him didn't really help. Nothing really helps.

Grief is exhausting. It consumes every part of you. Every muscle, every emotion. Every piece of you is just consumed. It's like a radioactive explosion. No part of you is safe from the agony. And no one around you is safe from the grief that leaks from your pores.

"I need to tell you something." Dick keeps his voice steady and stern.

You turn slowly, peeking an eye at him but not saying anything. You think it'll be something dumb. Something to try and get you to get up again, but not argue or fight with Bruce. Maybe Bruce had a moment last night where he finally snapped and actually cried over it. You don't know and you don't care, but you're listening.

"Bruce broke into Arkham last night and killed the Joker." Dick gets it out in a single breath, anticipating you to blow up. "And then he took off."

Your eyes narrow at him as your jaw squares. If this is Dick's big idea of a joke, he really needs a comedy lesson because that's not funny. But, he has his hands in his front pockets and his jaw is squared, he always does that when he's being serious about something. And that grief that just felt like numbness and agony, is liquified into anger.

You sit up slowly. "He what?"

"Yeah." Dick states with the quick raise of his brows. "He dropped a crowbar on my floor last night."

If it were anyone else, you would probably find it in yourself to actually laugh at the use of a crowbar. It's what he deserves but that's brutal. But, this is Bruce. The one who's been saying the Joker has to stay alive. Now, suddenly, he's gone off and killed him? With a crowbar?

"He killed the Joker?"

"Yeah." Dick nods his head.

That's your last straw here. You had a plan. You were planning to kill him yourself and somehow Mr. Morality himself beat you to fucking punch? How did that even happen? The one time you actually put a plan together and Bruce gets there first? How is that even fair?! You're so sick of this shit.

"Get the fuck out." You snap, shaking your head with gritted teeth.

"Look, I know--"

"No, get the fuck out of my room." You point at the door. "That's bullshit. Get out. He should have been mine!"

Dick hangs his head for a second and he's not even sure how he's supposed to feel about it. He'd be lying if he weren't also planning his own revenge on the Joker. Him and Jason had their issues but he is also tired of the Joker getting to hurt people he cares about. He sat by Babara's hospital bed after the Joker shot her and he swears it was the darkest day of his life since his parents died. Then Jason. Killing is wrong, but the Joker needed to be stopped. Dick wanted revenge, too. But, maybe a part of him is a little hurt because he doesn't think Bruce would have done that for him.

Then, there's the other part, knowing you were ready to go in yourself and take care of him. Which makes him a little relieved Bruce beat you to it. You've never fought the Joker. Dick isn't sure you would have made it out. They'd be burying another body.

"The Titans will be here in a few hours. But, I wanted you to be the first to know." Dick states. "I thought you deserved that." Dick lets out a breath. "And you were right about the kids. You were right."

You pause for just a second because Dick does not like to admit he's wrong often. But he is now. You knew you were right but something is a little bit nice hearing it anyway. And from Dick. But, that does not make you any less angry at the world or at Bruce.

"Yeah, I fucking know and so were you. Too bad Jason didn't see it." Your voice softens just a little and you regret not voicing your concerns about Bruce and Robin to him. It probably wouldn't have done anything but cause a fight, but you should have tried.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me, too." You shake your head. "Now get out." You lay back down and roll over.

You're going with Plan B.

The agony of grief is turning into boiling rage. How dare Bruce think he gets the right to just kill the Joker now. Of all fucking times. Now he's going to toss his morals aside and kill him? It's a little too fucking late for that. That should have been your job but he went and did it anyway. You're fucking sick of this. So, you change your plan and if you're gonna be mad, you're gonna use it.

You grab the tablet off the nightstand and get up. You grab a notebook from your bookshelf with a marker and sit right in the center of your floor. There are plenty more horrible people that roam the streets of Gotham and you're going after every single one of them. You write down what you deem to be the worst of the worst behaviors and go from there. 

This was always going to be the plan if you made it out of Arkham after killing the Joker. You were always going to go after these people. It's just being sped up a little bit and you aren't going to waste a lot of time planning this time around. Instead, you do research through the tablet and find who you can that were confirmed to be working with the Joker and/or working with Pete Hawkins and then you run over their rap sheets and backgrounds.

You remember you and Jason talking about what you'd both do after Robin. After Bruce. You'd hunt down these people yourselves because they're always the ones that get pushed to the side. They get to escape Batman, they don't make it to the radar. Well, now they are. Molly was always right. Batman protects the rich so you're going to protect the ones Batman doesn't. You're going to make sure none of these victims and potential victims end up like you or Jason or Molly or Diego or any of the others. Bruce's morals were never yours.

You finish your research a few hours later before you head to the Batcave, ignoring the laughter coming from the kitchen. You look at Jason's suit that still has traces of blood over it. Your heart sinks to your stomach and your eyes start to burn. You chew the inside of your cheek before taking in a deep breath. It's not fucking fair but you're gonna level the playing field. Someone has to. Not another person.

Bruce offered you Robin as a way to honor him and that's not honorable. But, you want to send the message. So, you walk over to the case with your suit and open it. You get dressed before you head over to the weapons where you grab the extra R blades that usually go into the Robin suit. You stuff them in your utility belt. You are not knives but they'll do the job just fine. Jason always made sure they were sharp.

The kitchen is filled with Titans, all of them snapping their attention to you as you walk in, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You don't say a single word as you keep your stare in front of you as you walk over to the cabinet where Jason always kept the protein bars. You pluck a few from the cabinet and stick them in your utility belt.

"You're up." Dick finally states with caution. "And going out?" Dick eyes you in the suit.

"Got shit to do." You mutter, slamming the cabinet door.

"You should probably eat something....more filling." Gar chimes in. "Especially if you're going on patrol." Gar keeps his voice hopeful.

You roll your eyes as you walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. The other Titans watch you carefully, glancing to Dick to find out what they're supposed to do in all of this. You didn't talk to Dawn or Hank and neither did Jason. They know what was posted to social media and whatever Gar, Dick, and Kory would tell them. But, they're growing a little more concerned about what they missed in these few months.

"Let me fucking be." You snip. "That's what the protein bars are for." Sarcasm fills the room like toxic venom.

Hank blocks the exit. "Heard you haven't been eating or doing anything. You're eating before you leave."

Of all the people, you do not want to deal with Hank. You can let a grudge for yourself go but for people you love? Absolutely not. Jason can forgive him all the fuck he wants, but you do not. And you will take him out first if that's how this is going to be.

You grit your teeth. "Get the fuck out my way."

Hank crosses his arms. "Not a chance, kid."

"We're worried about you." Dawn's voice is soft.

"I don't fucking care." You snip, looking back at her. 

"Why don't you come sit down?" Kory asks. "Take a breath."

It's not Kory's fault. None of this. She has been nothing but nice to you and Jason. But, she's on their side, not yours.

"I have had enough taking breaths. I need to get some shit done and I am going to do it whether any of you like it or not." You look back at Kory with the shrug of your shoulders. "I'm tired of this shit hurting so I'm...going out."

Gar's worried about you. He's always worried. But, you going out even if it's just to patrol seems like a really bad idea right now. He's terrified you're going to do something reckless and they'll be burying you, too. He can't lose someone else.

"It hurts us, too." Gar says quietly.

You know. You know it hurts them all. But, you were closest to him. You were there. You missed it. You were the one that found him and had to look at him like that. You were the one that wasn't fast enough to save him. Or strong enough. Or careful enough. Jason made you rethink everything you have ever known and for the first time in your life, you weren't fucking afraid of staying. He changed every part of you and it hurts. He's gone and it's your fault and it hurts.

You grit your teeth and feel your eyes start to water. "But it hurts me the most, Gar!" You spin to look at him. "You. Weren't. Here! He meant everything to me." Your voice cracks with desperation."I close my eyes and I see his body. I--" You stop yourself, feeling everyone stare at you, the tension in the room making the place feel a rainforest. "None of you get it." Your voice cracks with defeat. "Leave me alone. I'll be fucking fine." You suck in a harsh breath, hardening your face as you look up to Hank. "Get the fuck out of my way."

Hank looks to Dick and Dick shakes his head. He let Jason down. No matter what Dick believes really happened, it was his job to protect Jason and teach, Jason. He let him down and he won't let you down. Not again. He won't lose another person.

"Not happening."

"Get the fuck out of my way or I'll melt your face off." You hold out your free hand, it glowing in response.

"You won't fucking dare." Hank glares down at you. "I'll take you out, kid."

You stand your ground. "I'm not scared of you. I'm not fucking afraid of anything."

"I'll go with you." Gar finally chimes in, tired of the back and forth.

He's a little worried you might actually try to fight Hank at this point. He knows none of them are going to be able to stop you unless with force. He, for one, does not want to see that happen and what will be the aftermath of that. He doesn't want to help with it either. It's not right. So, he'll just go with and make sure you don't do anything too insane.

"No." You're stern as you look over your shoulder at Gar.

"You take Gar or you're not going." Dick states.

He doesn't want you to leave but he also knows holding you here won't do any of you any good. At least with Gar, Dick knows you wouldn't do anything to endanger him. Gar is always the voice of reason and maybe the two of you alone, Gar can talk some sense into you.

"I don't need a fucking babysitter, Dickolas."

"We don't want you to get yourself killed." Gar states.

"The world has never been so kind to me." Your words are broken as you look to the floor. You shake your head and you want to save your remaining energy for your list so you cave. "Fucking fine." You spin around, Gar jumping up from his seat. "But, you don't get to protest what I'm doing and I assure you, you will not like it."

"What are you going to do?" Dick asks.

"Doesn't matter. There's a new crime lord in town, you have your hands a little full with Bruce out of the picture. He's killed eight people and counting, taking over the drug traffickers right now."

"All the more reason for you not to go out." Dick states.

"I'm not in the crime business in case you haven't noticed, Dickolas. " You let out a scoff. "So, I'm fucking leaving and doing my own shit." You turn back to Hank. "I won't piss off a wanna-be Penguin."

"Make sure she doesn't get herself killed or kills anyone else in the process." Dick warns Gar quietly and he nods.

"Move." You groan up at Hank who reluctantly moves when Gar approaches.

Hank moves allowing you both to pass by, Gar hot on your heels as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. You head outside where your bike is parked and you pop on your helmet. You're running through your plan in your head, trying to figure out how you're going to manage with Gar around.

Gar is not going to like it and then you'll have to listen to him. But, if there's one thing you've gotten good at the last few days, it's tuning people out. So, you could tune him out. You could also just have him wait outside if this is an indoor thing. You don't want him involved. This is your thing. It doesn't need to be on Gar's hands.

"Are you going to tell me what your plan is?" Gar asks as he stands to the side of the bike.

"Nope." You state. "Dick's bike is over there with a helmet, grab it and get on so we can go." You state coldly.

"I think you should tell me the plan first." Gar's voice is hesitant.

"We're literally outside right now and I can just take off. I can lose Dick before you go inside to get him and tell him you already lost me. So, either get the helmet and let's go, or I'm going to leave."

Gar lets out a defeated sigh as you get on the bike. He rushes over to Dick's bike and grabs the helmet.

"You're...you're not gonna...kill anyone are you?" Gar questions as he walks back over.

"I told you, you're not gonna like it so you can either stay here or let me do my shit by myself. You'll have to fight me to stop me and we know I'll win. So it's your decision." You shrug.

Gar lets out a sigh, hoping he'll be able to talk you out of this. He gets on the bike and puts the helmet on before he holds onto you. You shake your head, sliding down your face shield before you take off. You head to a hideout that one of the men has been using.

You look at the abandoned building and roll your eyes. According to your few hours of research, he wasn't working with anyone closely besides the Joker but he's dead now. So, you figure this can't go terribly wrong and even if does, that would be fine.

"Stay." You state as you put your helmet on the bike.

"I'm coming—" Gar follows you.

You stop dead in your tracks, Gar bumping right into you. You spin around. "Gar, stay. I don't want you involved."

There's a fire in your eyes Gar hasn't seen before and he really doesn't want you to go in there alone. Nothing good is going to come from it.

"You're my best friend. I don't want you to do something you'll regret." Gar's voice is sympathetic.

"I won't regret this. Stay here." You shake your head and spin back around, hoping he'll actually listen to you.

Gar stays behind as he watches you head to the back of the building. Gar debates his loyalty. On the one hand, he knows he'll have to fight you and he doesn't want to do that. You're right, you'll win. He'll lose anyway. And you're his friend, he never wants to fight his friends. All it will do is cause more tension and you're in the middle of grieving your favorite person. That just doesn't seem right. But, Dick told him to make sure you don't get hurt or get someone killed. So, after just a few minutes of debating, he follows you with reluctance.

Gar rushes inside and by the time he gets inside, you're already throwing the R blades, the man pinned on the floor. He never stood a chance. You have a blade in his leg, in his arm, and in his abdomen.

"Please! I'll tell you whatever you want to do know!" The man begs as you stand over him.

"I don't want to know anything." You state, your hands glowing as you shrug down at him. You run over the list in your head, reminding yourself of every terrible, horrible, irredeemable thing he's done.

"I-I know where the Red Hood is!" The man panics and your eyes narrow.

This guy was working with the Joker so was Pete Hawkins. Red Hood killed Pete Hawkins, that makes sense. But, you find it odd anyway to mention it as he begs for his life. You're not here for the new guy. And you almost ask him why he thinks you are but that would mean offering him time and that's not what this is about.

"I don't care." You roll your eyes. "This has nothing to do with him. This is for every kid you turned to the freak ass clown." You stick your hand to his face as his skin starts to melt.

"Stop!" Gar yells, coming up behind you and yanking you away, the man screaming in agony as he rolls on the ground.

"Get the fuck off of me!" You wiggle in his grip, getting free. "Get the fuck out of here!"

"You're not gonna do this! We don't do this!" Gar gestures his arm at the man.

"I'm not a fucking we! I do what I want!" You scream back, shooting a blast of acid at the man as his screams die down. "See? All done."

You walk past Gar as Gar looks at the damage that's been done. He walks over, checking the man's pulse only for there to be nothing left. He just watched you kill someone in under ten minutes. This is bad. He has to snap you out of this. It's not going to bring Jason back. Nothing can bring him back and you need to find a way to deal with it that doesn't involve killing people.

"You can't do this!" Gar yells, you keeping your back to him as you reach the bike. "You can't kill people because you miss Jason! That's not gonna bring him back!"

He can't let you keep doing this. If this is your plan, some sort of revenge filled with grief, that's not you. He knows you, too and he swears it's not. You're the one who always said you weren't violent. It sucks and it hurts. It's always going to hurt, he knows that, but this isn't going to make the pain any less for you.

You look down and let out a hollowed, venom-filled chuckle. It's never going to be about missing him and that's the thing. He'll never get it. But, it's like this void has opened up in your chest, right where your heart used to be. A black hole, sucking everything inside of it but never being full. It's just a vast of nothingness and it's not about missing him.

"I'm not doing it because I miss him! Fuck." You scream, spinning around with your helmet in your hand. "I'm doing this for me and for Jason and for Dick and Molly and Diego and every other fucking kid that Bruce fucked over and the system fucked over because Bruce said that's fucking justice!"

"And do you think this," Gar gestures around him to the building. "Is justice?!"

"It's better than fucking nothing, Gar!" You let out a harsh breath. "We're the people left behind to suffer at the hands of people with bad intentions! Because we have no other choices! I'm doing this for all of us! I'm doing this for the life Jason should have had! For the life he deserved to have but never got the fucking chance because of bullshit circumstances! Just like me and Molly and Dick and Diego and all the others! So, you can either shut the fuck up and get the fuck on board, or try to fucking stop me."

Gar shakes his head and it's like he's losing you, too. Donna, Jason, and you. This is going to get you killed. You're going to go after the wrong person and it'll be the end. And this isn't you. You're mad and in the middle of grief. Grief is messy, it explodes and it always touches more than just the people in the thick of it. He can't just let you do this and end up regretting it.

"We don't kill people." Gar's voice is soft this time and for a split second, you actually feel bad. He wasn't even supposed to be involved but Dick insists on a babysitter. "And I-I don't want to fight you."

"I'm not a we anymore." You shake your head and shrug your shoulders. Your voice is etched with pain and it breaks Gar's heart all over again.

Your teeth grit and it's so painful, it's almost numbing to everything. Every day, it's hard and it isn't getting easier. And maybe you think you deserve the pain and numbness from all of it. If anyone should have known Jason was up to something, it should have been you. You put all of this blame on Bruce, but it eats at you, too. You both missed it. Everyone missed it. And the one fucking time he needed you to see it, you missed it and it got him killed.

"I don't want to fight you either but I will if you try to stop me and we both know I'll win." You suck in a breath knowing Gar wouldn't have it in him to actually stop you.

And maybe you're hoping it's a false sense of confidence. Maybe you think you deserve to fight him, have him not on your side anymore. Maybe you don't deserve it anymore.

You turn back around and get on the bike before putting your helmet on. It's not going to bring him back, you know. And it's not going to make you feel better. But, it's better than letting someone else go through what you and every other kid has so far. This city eats people alive. It takes and takes and takes and that is all it has ever done. You're tired of it. You're willing to live with the guilt of blood on your hands if it'll help even a few kids who've been left in the cold. Maybe you deserve it anyway.

"Dick is gonna be pissed." Gar sucks in a breath as he takes a few steps towards you.

"Kory kills people sometimes. Rose killed Deathstroke. I killed people from CADMUS when they attacked the tower. You killed someone once. Mr. Moral Highground himself just fucking killed the Joker. Why is it such a big fucking deal right now? Why is it so fucking bad right now?" Your voice is almost defeated.

Honestly, you wonder how it's always Gar caught in the crossfire. Maybe it's just because he's too empathetic, always seeing the good in everyone. It's still something you admire. But, he can't stop you and you desperately wish, he'd just understand.

"Because this isn't you." Gar's brows furrow as he stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets.

You look down and clear your throat, feeling the guilt start to eat at your chest. You're not sure what the guilt is though. The guy you just killed or for making Gar give you that look that screams desperation and disappointment.

"Maybe it always should have been though." You shake your head. "You know, he was bad, right?" You ask. "Like, working with the Joker. Joker had a few guys trafficking kids. Was gonna go after one, Pete Hawkins, but uh, Red Hood beat me to the punch so, next best I guess. So, he wasn't just some guy doing something bad." You explain.

"That doesn't make it better." Gar states. "Maybe we could have helped him get out of that."

"Nope, rap sheet five pages long." You suck in a harsh breath. "Okay, where do you stand on Bruce killing the Joker?"

"I-I...I mean..." Gar thinks killing is wrong, but...the Joker was always the worst of the worst. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. I think you don't like it but you're not gonna go and tell fucking Batman off for doing it. I think a part of you, might actually understand it." You gesture a hand towards him. "I'm not asking you to agree with me, Gar. I can't ask that of you. But I am asking you to just understand. You didn't grow up here and see this shit, okay?"

"I don't want you to kill people and I don't want you to regret this when it does get better. I know you don't want to hear that but it will."

"We talked about it, ya know?" You ask. "What we'd do after Robin and Batman. Team up and go after these guys. These guys rarely make it to Bruce's radar. It's not fair. Most of us aren't rich but that doesn't mean we're a sacrifice. That's what Bruce called us last night. What he called Jim Gordon, his fucking friend. A sacrifice. I'm tired of innocent people being a sacrifice for a city and for rich fucks that don't actually give a fuck about them unless the press is taking pictures and writing articles about how good they are. We did not say we'd kill anyone, but..." You shrug. "In and out of Blackgate and they learn nothing. Something permanent has to be done. So, I'm not gonna regret it."

He does not agree. There always has to be another way. If they all just started killing people because they think they're bad, how can that be justice? How can that be better than what's already going on? But, Gar can't argue it not without going round and round in circles. And he's never said anything about Kory or Rachel killing anyone. So, he decides, maybe he can try a little bit to understand even if he thinks he won't be able to.

"I'm not killing just anyone, I promise. I have a plan."

"That's not reassuring." Gar states.

"I know." You nod. "But, I promise. I know but can you offer me a little understanding, please? As my friend."

You're done arguing. Your throat hurts and your chest hurts. A headache is pecking at the back of your head, it's just exhausting arguing. Everything is exhausting lately.

Gar moves forward and takes the helmet. "Dick is gonna kill you."

"Eh, he'll bitch about it for a while and then get over it because I'm grieving." You roll your eyes. "Make him a hypocrite if he did something about it."

"Not funny." Gar scolds as he gets on the back.

"Wasn't a joke." You quip. "Hold on."

You spend the day not killing people but by tormenting some of the guys on your list. You beat them up and taunt them, threaten them and scare them. Gar still isn't happy with excessive force but it is better than you killing them. He wonders why you even killed the first guy. But a part of him is a little afraid to even ask. Knowing you, you do have a reason for it. And he doesn't want to give you the bright idea to kill all of them.

Your last stop is Jerry's old house. You hate how your hands shake and the lump in your throat grows. It's more now. It's more than the torture that lingers in your bones because with his house also comes the memories of Jason.

That night was the night you knew something was going on with you. You remember that moment in the bathroom where Dick interrupted you and how your heart was thundering so loud you swore it'd wake up the whole tower. You remember how good it felt and thrilling and the look on his face. That was the night he read to you. This is not that house but it reminds you of that night anyway. This house brought back all of your nightmares. You can't kill Jerry right now, but you can do something about the house. He'll, hopefully, get word of it and know you'll come for him one day. The house is the start.

You suck up your fear and memories as you close the distance and shoot acid on the side panel of the house before pulling out a match. Gar stands right beside you and he knows the house. He remembers it when him and Jason looked into you.

"What are you doing?" Gar asks.

"Burning it down." You state as you light the match, tossing it onto the acid, watching the flames burn. "Suit? Flame retardant. Acid? Flammable." You walk around the other side and repeat the same thing until the house is engulfed in flames. "Tested it out last night, just to make sure." You watch the flames and Gar isn't sure how to feel about it. At least no one was inside, you checked, and this is your business. This is your thing. You're not hurting anyone at least. "Gonna lecture me about vandalism?" You look over at him.

"No." Gar shakes his head. "I'm definitely calling the fire department though." Gar sucks in a breath, the fire warming his face a little too much for his comfort.

"Can you give it a minute? Just to make sure there's no saving it." You look at him. "We can stay and watch it burn, make sure it doesn't get too out of control and no one gets hurt."

"Okay." Gar agrees as you move to stand by the bike and watch the house burn. "Does this help?"

"Yeah." You nod your head. "He's not getting life, ya know? Jason, uh, he kept a file on him. He kept tabs so I wouldn't have to." You shake your head. "But, he got a lot of time but he can still come back and pick it up again. At least he'd need a new house and I'll see him coming. Not another kid."

"It is more than Jason." Gar nods his head with a sense of understanding.

"Yeah," You nod, your eyes trained on the house. "He's just the last straw for me. I think he'd find it funny and then ask why I didn't take a flame thrower."

"Flame thrower?" Gar questions. "Why the hell would you have a flame thrower?"

"Molly and me were walking and we hit this house. I don't know how I missed it. But, I did. And uh, I had a panic attack so bad I just...broke right on the side of the road. It was like I was back in San Francisco, in the basement all over again. Molly called Jason and he sat in front of me and snapped me out of it. Then he asked if I wanted to burn it down. He could get a flame thrower from the Batcave and we're both flame retardant." You laugh softly as your eyes burn.

"Oh, so he gave you this bright idea." Gar lets out a soft chuckle. It definitely sounds like something Jason would have said to make you feel better.

"He had some good ideas on occasion." You laugh softly as you hear sirens coming. "Well, someone beat ya to it. Let's head out." You let out a sigh as you grab your helmet and hand the other to Gar. "Thanks for not stopping me." You nod. "I'll tell Dick you tried."

"It's okay." Gar nods as he takes the helmet. "No one got hurt...here." Gar sucks in a breath.

The two of you get on the bike and head back to the manor. Gar reports to Dick when you get back. For a second, he debates even telling him what happened. Some part of him wants to understand because you're his friend. He believes you think you're doing what's right but it's hard for him to understand even though he doesn't give Kory a hard time. He didn't give Rachel a hard time when she killed people. But, Dick is looking at him expectantly and he can't lie to him. So, he tells Dick what happened.

Dick finds you in the Batcave later that night, deciding he'd like to have the conversation without the other Titans around. Dick swears this is the grief talking and the other Titans don't need to be involved. You're right, they have bigger problems right now. Their focus should be there, especially given the events that happened today. He can handle you.

"Do you feel better?" Dick questions as he paces in front of you with his arms crossed.

"Well, I guess that depends on your definition of feeling better." You shrug your shoulders as you exit out of your screens on the Batcomputer.

"Are you serious right now?" Dick fumes.

"Pretty much." You answer simply.

If Gar can't get you to go back on your plan, Dick definitely can't. He's giving you that disappointed look that makes you almost groan. You're not in the mood for not only a lecture from him but another lecture about how you don't kill people.

"We don't kill people."

You almost laugh at the irony. "I'm not a we anymore in case you missed the memo." You snark. "I'd like to go to bed though. If you don't mind." You get up from your spot but Dick steps in front of you to stop you.

"We aren't done here. I know. I know how hard this is for you. But I promise, you will regret this." Dick tries to reason with you.

"I don't think so. We're different people. I don't feel all too bad about it." You lie. You feel a little bad about it. You're not a monster. "I'm going to bed unless you have anything else you want to say." You let out a breath as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yeah, I have more to say. You're not going out alone anymore. You're taking Gar with you and you're not going to keep killing people. That's not what Titans do and that's not what you do."

"So, Gar is my babysitter? Gar tried and I still killed the guy today. Do you think that's gonna stop me?"

"Yes. You'll start to feel bad for making Gar stick around."

You narrow your eyes at him and he makes a good enough point. But, you're still pretty sure you'll keep up with your plan. You'll just find a way around Gar.

"Anything else or?"

Dick lets out a sigh and of course there's more. His first night, he went into Jason's room and found a formula. But, you've been either screaming, sobbing, or catatonic the last few days and he hasn't had much of a chance to ask anything.

"Okay, look, I need your help."

You let out a laugh. "I can't kill people and now you need my help." You roll your eyes. "With what?"

"Jason was making a drug, what do you know?" Dick cuts to the chase.

You shake your head in disbelief. Why the fuck would Jason be making a drug? Does Dick really have so little faith in him? You're actually offended Dick would think he was making a drug. It's one of the most insane things you've ever heard and you live with Bruce Wayne.

"Wow, okay, yeah that's fucking rich. He was not making a drug, Dickolas." You scoff.

"Look, I found this formula in his room." Dick pulls the paper out of his pocket and hands it over.

You look at it but you've never seen it before and it's definitely Jason's handwriting. It's messy and still somehow legible. But that still doesn't make any sense. Jason wanted to target dealers and the cooks. You always assumed it was because of his mom and once people are hooked, they'd be more vulnerable to everything.

You hand it back. "I have no fucking idea." You let out a scoff and apparently, he was keeping a whole lot from you.

"Bullshit. You knew him better than anyone."

"Yeah, and I missed him going after the fucking Joker, too." You strike back. "I don't know. I've never fucking seen it, he never mentioned it probably because he knew I'd chew him out for it. I don't know." You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste iron. "Look, he's dead, it doesn't matter." The words are bitter on your tongue and they weigh heavy in your throat. But, it's true. You don't want to hear about it. He's dead, he's gone, it doesn't matter.

"I think it does." Dick protests. He doesn't understand how Jason was making a drug and somehow, no one knows anything about this. 

"Why? He's dead. He's gone. Shit isn't gonna bring him back." You brush past him, feeling the caving of your chest start again.

Dick calls your name as you look back at him. "There was something going on."

"Yeah, apparently so but I don't know shit. Wish I did though." You turn back around. The drug is going to eat at you and it'll eat at Dick. You're tired of things eating at you and today is bothering you but not for the killing. So, you change subject. "Hey, okay, uh, you guys actually going after the new guy?"

"We're putting together a case. He killed a woman today, a mother." Dick explains. "Do you know something?"

"No," You shake your head. "But, uh, that guy I killed today, thought I was looking for him. He's called the Red Hood, by the way. Just...thought it was fucking weird and thought you might wanna know. Molly said he showed up at her apartment with Diego Martinez, a missing kid she was looking for. Pete Hawkins trafficking kids to the Joker and he was one of them."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Instead of begging for his life, he told me he knew where the Red Hood was. I, uh, thought it was weird. I think he was lying and uh, I have no idea how he knew about Molly." You let out a scoff because that part is going to bother you until you get an answer.

"Why would go to your friend? Are you sure you don't know anything else about him?"

"I swear, I have no fucking idea. That's why I'm telling you. Shit is weird, even for Gotham. If I knew more, I'd tell you. Weird he'd kill a random woman but Molly said he just seemed intimidating. I asked more about it later and she said Diego was fine and the Red Hood was nice to him. So...again, weird."

Dick lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. Of course, something can't be simple in Gotham. There always has to be something else going on and Dick agrees, this just seems weird. And it doesn't make any sense. What is his motive anyway?

"Well, good talk." You let out a sigh. "Just thought you'd like that information in case it was useful. I'm going to bed." You offer Dick a nod before you walk off and exit the Batcave, leaving Dick with a bigger headache.

The next day, the Titans are working on the Red Hood case, something about a chess play. Dick went to Jonathan Crane for help over it which he was not happy about. You choose not even to get involved with that one. You have your own thing you want to do anyway and maybe a part of you, doesn't entirely know how to feel about the Red Hood. He did save Diego and maybe others for all you know and he didn't hurt Molly when he could have. Though, he did kill an innocent woman. So, you're just not getting involved right now, instead you mind yourself to your room for most of the day.

But, then you get a call from someone, an unknown number.

"Meet me at the old gym." He says, his voice disguised by a voice modulator.

You pull the phone from your face, looking at it with confusion before you put it back to your ear. "Yeah, who the fuck are you and why the fuck would I do that?" You snark back.

"Meet me at 8 tonight."

"Why?" You question back.

"Just go to the roof. Eight O'clock." He says before the line goes dead.

You pull the phone from your head again and look at the dark screen. What are you even supposed to do with that? On the one hand, it would be really stupid to listen to a random voice from an unknown number. But, it's also weird enough that it makes you kind of want to go. You don't talk to anyone. The only people who even have your number are the Titans and Molly. A lot of weird shit is currently going on and you would like at least one answer. It might be really stupid, but you figure you'll go anyway and you'll just be prepared for it to go south.

Lucky for you, the Titans had some Red Hood business to take care of that involved all of them looking for possible victims. That gave you the perfect opportunity to leave right when you needed to without having to worry about ditching Gar along the way.

You get to the old gym and walk right in, almost no fear in your bones. You walk right through and into the pool area. The pool is gross, slimy. It looks like it hasn't been used in years, which it hasn't. And the smell of algae sticks to the walls, making you grimace behind your mask. So, you keep walking until you reach the stairs that lead to the roof.

Once on the roof, you walk over to the edge, resting your forearms on the ledge. Your stomach doesn't drop anymore. Anxiety doesn't flood your veins and you don't even feel the slightest bit dizzy. You think it's because of the grappling around the city. You had no choice but to get over your fear of heights. But you know that's not all of it. Fear doesn't follow you very much these days.

You feel someone walk up beside you a few minutes later, barely getting a glimpse of them out of the corner of your eyes.

"Who are you and what the hell do you want?" Your voice is flat as you keep your stare on the gloomy city below.

"Really did get over your fear of heights, huh?" The voice questions, a voice modulator changing it. He's a little surprised you came, honestly. But, it's you, of course you did. You hate unanswered questions and he knows that.

You look over to see the new so-called crime lord. He's wearing a red helmet, the eyes white and there's no mouth. He's got a black padded suit on with a red symbol right in the middle of his chest that looks like a play on the Batman symbol. And above his suit, he's wearing a red hoodie under a brown leather jacket. It's a look.

Red Hood.

New crime lord trying to take over Gotham and leaving no one in his wake that crossed his path. He's brutal and ruthless. But methodical, has a plan and is never caught off guard. Smart, quick, sharpshooter. And as you remember every horrible thing you've read, you nod once because you think this is finally it.

Finally, after all these years of suffering and misery, someone is gonna end it all for you. That has to be the reason you're standing here right now. Maybe that guy you killed was working for him. Cross his path in the wrong way, and he'll just kill you. You're so certain that's what it is and you almost feel relieved as you look back to the city.

"Yeah well." You state, bypassing how he'd even know you were afraid of heights in the first place. "If you're gonna kill me, can you just like do it already?" Your voice is so flat and emotionless, Jason freezes.

You've given up. You gave up on the fight the day he died. And he was worried about that. When the drug wears off, it comes back. Every piece of fear he's ever felt floods back over him and one of those fears is always you. How you're going to react to knowing he's alive, how you're going to react knowing he died, how you've been doing. He can see it in the way your eyes scan the city that you're done. And he hates himself for it.

"I'm not gonna kill you. Why would I kill you?" He asks and he's glad his voice is disguised.

"It's what you do." You chortle. "It's fine, really. I'm sure I crossed you or whatever. To be expected." You glance at him once more before you look back to the city. "Just, uh, take my phone and call Dickolas. Make sure he's the one that finds me because if you don't, that means my friend will and I really, really don't want him to deal with that. It fucking sucks." You nod as you roll your eyes. "Consider it my dying wish."

"Dramatic as always." Jason lets out a chuckle. "You know I'm not gonna fucking kill you because you got that combat thing." He says and he's buying time, trying to get the courage to tell you.

You pause, looking at him slowly. One person that knows referred to it that way. It was always Jason. He always said it was a combat thing. And the only people who even know are the Titans.

You look back to the city and you're about to rip his helmet off yourself. He gave the woman a paper with a chess move and a code. The code was Robin, he asked for Nightwing. That's what Gar said before he left tonight with the Titans. Red Hood knows where Molly lives, he has your phone number and clearly knows about the combat clairvoyance. There is one person who would know all of that and he's dead. So, this is getting a bit frustrating and concerning.

"Why are you acting like you know me?" You huff as you look back at him.

He's leaning with an elbow on the ledge, his weight shifted to his right leg. He's standing so casually and it's almost familiar but at this point, you think you're just fooling yourself. You can't do this.

"Yeah, I'm leaving." You push off the ledge and start to walk off but he grabs your arm gently.

You stop and look at his hand on your arm. He's wearing brown leather gloves that match his jacket. This feels familiar, too and you swear anything would feel familiar because you're desperate. It's just the desperation and the grief. But, it feels familiar and you hate it. 

"Wait." He says. "Don't go, alright?" He drops his hand and you let out a sigh, leaning back against the ledge.

"Fine." You let out a sigh and go back to looking at the city. "Can you just tell me what the fuck is going on, please?" You ask and Jason can hear the desperation in your voice. "I have had a shit fucking week and I just....would like to go back to bed." You let out a sigh another sigh. You're tired of the games.

Jason hangs his head and he knows you're going to lose it. You're going to be mad and he's going to have to deal with it. He really, desperately wishes he would have taken the drug before he walked up here. It'd definitely be nice right about now. But, he swore, if he was going to do this, he'd have to do it this way because you would figure it out. That's not the plan and at the end of day, he came back knowing he'd never involve you. You have to know and he wishes this were easier.

But, he takes off the helmet anyway.

"Please, don't be mad."

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A/n: I just wanna say thank you again to everyone who leaves a comment and/or reblogs. I go back and reread them all the time and it makes me really happy 😭 I'm really sorry if I don't always respond I just don't know what to say sometimes lmao or my chronic illness flares up and I just kind of...post and log off and I don't usually comment from Tumblr mobile lol So, I'm sorry if I don't respond but I promise it means so much to me 😭😭😭

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[ngmn2002]

*** Ch: 110***

As always, just side notes...

Who was right to guess the yorishiro is within Mirai? Yep, me.~ would pay to be in Hanako's, Nene's, Teru's place or the owls and watch Tsukasa in action and going -far shore No.6 mode but X1000 COOLER like they were doing. the amount of self confidence he has has always impressed me. my goodness it's limitless… but this chapter is on another whole level. SO SMUG! I love that mood of his. oooooh SO COOL!!!

...

Why the yorsihrio of No.1 had to be a key of all things? ........

What nat did to Mit 2.0 on her order... what a simp. Indeed proved his words in here.

So the 'welcome between us party', the whole big-bro nat facade, the nice gestures he showed together with his lady toward Mit 2.0 were fake all along? How funny. What a shock. I didn't expect they are this sort of people. I'm shocked with nat and his lady. lol

So, I was right in the end? They are plotting things of 'her' own together. No way Tsukasa would plan for Mit 2.0 end up this way.

It's her not being able to wait to have her wish come true no matter who she will hurt. That makes her so happy.~ what a softie. lol

(can't be) Though, if the 2 were plotting to put Mit 2.0 in a situation where he'll be forced to have a yorishiro by having nat do that so they can destroy it later... hmm... judging from Tsukasa's words in here...

What a devious face. 💜 Uh, how cool-looking... Tsukasa amazed me all chapter long. What a force. ✨

Is that what he meant by calling No.3's case a 'done deal' in ch 92? The only yorishrios that are left are him and No.1's. what about old No.3's yorsirhio that's still on the ceiling?

and... I get what nat meant with his words of 2 yorishiors are left. No.1's and No.7's. I see what he meant.

I see... I see...

What happened to granting Mit 2.0's wish btw? Tsukasa, you're going to carry on with that or..... wait... maybe there is no reason... once all yorishrios are destroyed, if what she said is true..... hmm..... things are going way too fast..... if we assumed the world will be rewritten so the living, the dead, supernaturals are equal and can live together... that means Mit 2.0's wish is granted along the way? uh, that's too much thinking

Anyway, don't think Mit 2.0 will end here. We need to have Kou in the picture, don't we? His long-wanted wish coming to play???

Love how he aimed for the sleeve!!! He is not there to harm Tsu, he wants to keep him safe and protect him at all costs!!!! What an emotional moment... oooh!! the position!!! it's always the same!!!

So we have a promise to keep Tsukasa moving... The core to all we have now. It only takes a spark for a fire to start -The promised Neverland keeps echoing in my head. Promises.....

And...

Hmm, did this trigger Hanako's memory to recall a some kind of promise he made to Tsukasa or maybe himself in the past?

This might be related as well...? will Tsu really /disappear/I mean I've always wondered what will happen to him once the seal is gone? hmm... does Amane know of Tsukasa's condition or not? if he does and still see that will happen....

Hmm... what is your duty?!

So? SO?! You broke him sir. Easy on him.

After all he voiced out you went SO? How cruel. Do each of you take turns in acting rude to each other at times? What he said to you next is well deserved, Tsukasa. Even though Amane didn't mean it literally. Understand his aching, feelings, pleading. SO?! .............

on the verge of tears? Is that Amane face close to the one Tsukasa fantasize over from when he *killed* saved/protected him? What does this face of Amane mean to you Tsukasa!!! What kind of emotion do you see held in it!!! CAN YOU SEE THE HUGE LOVE!!!!

AND THIS?!

Awww, it must feel lonely while like that.. let's add it to the family. a little side 'that rejects him' of Tsu he... AkaneAoi interaction got me I will go mad if Tsukasa went Aoi mode and came up with a thing like you don't really need me, I'm disappointing by your side..

Tsukasa got him TALKING about his feelings?! WOOHOHO Finally?! I'm not dreaming?! GOOD JOB TSU!!!!!!

Come on, he actually voiced such sentence out loud?! It was there sleeping inside his heart for soooooo looooong!!!!! He said I "LOVE" you so much?! FINALLY?!

He answered the question with words?! whooohoo we need to celebrate over here!!!

Between question and answer.

Tsukasa!!! LET THAT SINK IN!!!!! in the way intented. please don't take it literally like your little self once assumed it. You see and think differently now, right?

And I was waiting for Nene to confess to him. Look at the move he took. AHAHAHA This arc is full of confessions on their side. WAAAHHH

Ok, now waiting for this next, thank you.

And later on this!

Come on, Amane! You can do it! Just take a step forward! You're almost there! I need you to reach this point, fianlly lose it and shout out all the love you have for him with all your might so Tsukasa will finally understand......

What a nice way of talking he has. Between the 2, some cool development! Keep it up, Amane! I'm cheering for you! Talk more about your feelings!! Voice them out to those you love and love you back!!

It's impressive how he is ready to let Nene go twice and with Tsukasa... that's never an option.

I assume it's within his belief of she will move on someday, and have her dreams achieved and have a nice life, she doesn't really need him there to be happy as he voiced out before. now we have a swap with Tsukasa taking his place as he takes Nene's. tragic.

While with Tsukasa, he knows they can't ever let go of each other, it's never an option for them.

Yet, Tsukasa insists on leaving him, on sacrificing himself! One time, another time, and another time! Give the boy a break!!! His heart won't take it anymore!!!

If there is a thing he won't want to ever happen it's to lose you!!! He is NOT happy without you beside him!!

He does want to be with you, but he needs to be shown you REALLY wants it. That you needs him to be happy. That you needs him beside you. He needs a reason to stay.

Ok, Amane. Give him the reason to stay by your side. Let this 'I hate you' shine. Come on, prove to Tsukasa what he is worth to you! Tell him/show him what you want for real, your real desire, what makes you happy for real. And!!! Tsukasa, accept his wish!

Would having a wish coming true make him happy if he were to lose you?! I mean, if you're not gone Nene is also saved! who cares for her wish, huh?! Amane always comes first to you, right? Your top priority is to keep the promise you made to him and grant his real wish. Didn't you ask him to decide?! He did!!! Consider his decision!!!

You always go saying people should have the chance to do what they want, alright! Between the contrasting wants of your twin AMANE and assistant, which will you choose?! One has to get lost. It's her! Care for those who care for you, not the ones who want you gone to get what they want.

Between the 2 of you... what would keeping that promise mean if he were to lose you in exchange? He doesn't want that.

Boy......

I seriously wonder if Amane knew these… would he react nicely to her? Those who treat his precious ones as if they were nothing… oh… will he be merciless?

Seriously, even though I was trying to give her a chance, even though I was trying to keep in mind she might have had a hard life and just wants to be free, with everything new I see of her I can't help but despise her and her dog more. Sheesh. They piss me off.

The true definition of selfish and hypocrosity, manipulation at its best right there.

Anyway... TSUKASA!!!

TSUKASA!!! THIS!!! THIS!!! RMEMEBR THIS?! MAKE THE CONNECTION!! THIS CONNECTION!!

.......

I can't with these 2.......

Then I remember Nene is fated to die and her life is linked to the yorishiros and I'm......... T.T ......... what is going on?! What's with all the drama?! Easy on ME!!!

I can't with all of them...

........

Uh...

About Amane going for the yorsihrios detruction in the start... so... what was his plan really? Didn't he include Tsukasa in there...?

So in the end, he doesn't want to do this? At least not with Tsukasa...

Hmm...

Uhhh.... he doesn't want to *do it right* after all?

Tsukasa... the seal is there! It is right there on your face! Don't be blind and see what it means, Tsukasa!!! Before we ask for anyone else to see it, it's meant for you!! you're the one who needs to see what beautful meanings it holds! Isn't that obvious?

Talking issues-listening issues. Providing issues-understanding issues. Isn't it the perfect combination for the perfect miscommunication? How cruel.

Hmm, it's easy to stop Tsukasa if both Amane and Nene went: we won't destroy you, how about it?

Hmm... maybe some things naturally, intended by the bad 2 or maybe Tsukasa himself? come to play to force them to?

I'm toally confused. With time I will get a grip, for now... I will leave this here.

.......

They seriously need to talk. One long talk, get over this miscommunication issue between them. Because I can't take it anymore.

........

Things escalated quickly this chapter, wooh.

#with this i feel a little better #i had to let some things out #since again I might not be able to make the chapter review so soon #the twins are playing with my feelings #...........

[toorusluvr]

❥ ҉   CHAPTER SIX - WHAT ABOUT US?

❥ ҉   NOTE FROM NIS: hello hello! an update after more than a year geez i'm so sorry. life got in the way! anyway, i decided to finish this fic before this year ends (time is ticking for me lol at least it's an accomplishment!!) this chapter carries mental health issues and toxic relationships. wow semi is being a dickhead in this chapter (spoiler alert) he reminds me so much of my ex LOL anyway i hope you enjoy reading this update! as usual, reblogs, likes, and comments are very very much appreciated!!

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The cafe used to be your dating place with Semi felt empty even though there were customers inside. You were waiting for Semi, and surprisingly, Semi was 30 minutes late than the promised time. But, it was not surprising given the condition both of you were living in. You glanced over your watch countless times, breathing out a soft groan as you kept on looking over your phone as time passed by.

Another 20 minutes passed when he finally showed up. He made you wait for an hour! If that isn’t infuriating enough other than the fact that he also cheated behind your back. What a douchebag. But fuck is it easy to let him go. It’s not as easy as it may appear to others. Hands to God, you have tried. But each try ends in failure.

The man, Semi, was seen wearing his backpack over his shoulder, still neatly dressed in his school uniform though his tie was loose. The guy kept both of his hands inside of his pockets and he appeared relaxed while you were looking like you could explode any sooner. Sucker. He spotted you nearby the glass window with a frown look. His steps felt heavy with each drag, but he needed to see you one last time. He promised, this is the last time he'll hurt you.

Semi recognised that look you had on your face. You were upset with him, extremely disappointed was all over your face. And, you had every right to be upset with him. He loathes himself too, sometimes.

“We need to talk, Semi”, you mumbled softly, not wanting to start a fight with your boyfriend. You do not want to act like a crazy girlfriend, but yesterday’s incident was too much as it never happened before. Your eyes trailed his movements when he pulled out the chair in front of you. Semi took his seat and rested both of his hands on the table.

When things got worse between you and Semi, neither of you had ever cheated on one another.

“What is it?” Semi asked half-heartedly. His tone showed concern for your question.

You let out a soft sigh, not knowing where to begin. “Who were you with yesterday?” you asked with a slightly stern voice. His answer is what you needed the most. There's no way he would lie to you, right? He would convince you that it is not him, right? Right?

Fuck. How you wished that wasn’t him but it was as clear as day. Your stupid heart wouldn’t want to accept any other answer.

The last word came across as pleading in your mind. Heaven knew how pathetic you sounded at the moment when the truth was as clear as day.

Please, he would not lie to me... you prayed.

His action yesterday resulted in you overthinking last night if this relationship was worth risking yourself and your sanity, which was on the edge to begin with. Getting back together with him has always been a mistake. Who else could you blame other than yourself? You’re the one who puts yourself in this position.

“I was with my team, as usual. Why?” Semi replied, with no remorse. A liar, he calls himself. How many times does he have to keep lying to you? No. The real question is, what is holding him back from letting you go? Is it the fact that he can't stand seeing you with another person, or he just wanted to keep you for himself even though he has fallen out of love?

You scoffed, “You lied, Semi. Some girl sent me a snap of you guys being together. I don’t even know what you guys were doing, but why were you guys shirtless? I swear to God, Semi, if you slept with the girl, I don’t even know what I’ll do.”

Semi’s eyes widened at the statement. So you knew the truth already. Fuck that. He was just playing dumb. He knew you already knew. The girl showed the snap she sent to you with a proud smile all over her face and Semi couldn’t stop her.

He didn’t hesitate to stop her so he just let it be. Anything to prevent him from saying he wanted to break up with you.

“She’s just a friend, you know?” Semi paused before he spoke again. A friend? That's what pathetic liars tell their significant other every single time they are caught cheating.

 “So it’s true that you did something that friends wouldn’t do?” you emphasised the term 'friend' he clearly misused. You felt your blood boiling when you spotted the lies hidden in his eyes.

He looked away from your face, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I guess.”

“Why in the hell would you do that with her? You have a fucking girlfriend, Eita. What am I to you? For fucks sake, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked. Your voice was slightly trembling as you could feel your tears threatening to fall on your face any moment from now on.

The rage you've bottled up for years threatened to be freed from your body. Torture. This is like a living hell if it's living in agony.

“You aren’t there with me every day, and I got… bored. I was lonely, Y/N! I need someone to be there with me physically!” Semi sighed. He stopped and stared straight into your eyes. The girl he has loved for about three years. The sweet look you have always had on your face is now gone, replaced with anger and betrayal.

It felt like he was painting you to be the bad guy in this case. Playing the victim card, huh?

You scoffed in disbelief, “What am I to you exactly, Semi? Was the reason you got back with me the other day so you could fuck me and then leave?” you snapped, trying to keep your voice low so the other customers won’t be interrupted.

Semi brought both of his hands to his face. He let out a deep sigh, “Would it hurt less if I said yes?”

“Hell yes, Semi! Oh god, I can’t fucking believe this. What has gotten into you, Semi? What drove you crazy? Fuck, I can't even believe I love you no matter what happens!” At this point, you don’t even know if you are strong enough to accept this. A part of you just wanted to storm out of the cafe, but a part of you also needed closure.

“You’re always there when I need you. That’s why I keep on coming back to you because you’re there. You’re special to me, Y/N,” Semi told. His eyes failed to convince you that he wanted you to be with him forever.

You let out a scoff, “You know too damn well that I’ll come back running to you whenever you need me. You used me, Semi. What happened to the old you? I can’t believe this. You know that I can never let you go, that’s why you used me, isn’t it? Semi, I’m not naive. It’s just that I loved you so much that I can never let you go and… and, you took it for granted!”

Your tears were beginning to fall on your cheeks. You were sobbing so hard that even a box of tissue is not enough to help you wipe your tears away. Shit, breakup hurts like hell.

Semi felt terrible, really he is. He couldn't deny that he takes you for granted. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you could say, Semi?” you asked with a gruff voice. You were hoping for a lot more. Maybe an 'I love you’ or ‘You’re my entire world’ would be sufficient.

“I’m so sorry," he apologised once again. You let out an unbelievable sigh as you wiped your tears. “That’s it. Once again, we’re breaking up. Maybe we’re just not meant to be. I hate the fact that I will always love you no matter how bad you treat me, Eita.”

“I’m sorry. I’m never good enough for you. I guess I will never be good enough for anyone. I hope she’s good enough for you, Semi,” you said your final words as you left the cafe without saying goodbye.

Strangers on the street looked at you with a weird look on their faces. Seeing a random teenager on the street bawling her eyes out concerned them most slightly.

Returning home, you cried yourself to sleep. Your thoughts kept you up at night, wondering if you are ever enough for someone. You wondered if someone is willing to love you unconditionally. Does love even exist in this cruel world?

You skipped school for two days because you were down in the slumps, all alone in your room. You never cheated with anyone behind Semi’s back when you guys were together. Hell, you even ditched Iwaizumi as your friend with benefits when you got back together with Semi.

You sobbed again, not knowing what to do with your life anymore. You just wanted your pain to be over. Why does everyone have it easier? Why can't you be happy just like they do?

The sound of keys jingling from outside startled you. You saw the figure of your mother standing at the door frame with a stoic face. “Y/N,” she called your name seriously. You wiped your tears and looked at her, nodding your head to answer her call.

“Why the hell did you skip school?” your mother asked, taking another step towards you. She was infuriated when your homeroom teacher gave her a call this morning and told her about you being absent for the past 2 days.

She even left her work to come home to ask you about this matter. Ever since your dad passed away, your mother barely cares or makes time about your personal life that much. All she knows is that her daughter is supposed to go to school, and she wants her to graduate high school and become a doctor.

Your mother sets a high expectation on you, and it kills you inside.

“I’m sick, can’t you see?” you replied with a sad voice. You caught a cold after meeting with Semi the other day. You sniffled back your tears, not wanting to cry in front of your raging mad mother.

“I didn’t raise you to become a liar, Y/N! Why the hell did you skip school? Tell me now!” your mother yelled. You flinched at her words, and you knew you couldn’t lie any longer. But you weren’t lying! You were sick! Anyone who sees you in this state could tell. But why the person who gave birth to you couldn't see it?

“I skipped school because I was sick, mom! Can’t you see? I was telling you the truth!” you slightly raised your voice back at her while wailing out loud.

Your mother didn’t take your wailing seriously, apparently. “Just return to school tomorrow. I don’t want any excuses.” 

“Because of you, I want to fucking die,” you snapped. “You tortured me throughout my life, mom! You should have let me die back then!” 

The woman who birthed and raised you had a fuming mad expression written all over her face. Her fists tightened on her sides, eyebrows scrunched together. Your mother’s back is now turned to face you. “I raised you to become a successful person. I don’t want to raise a pathetic loser. Get your shit together!” your mother raised her voice one last time as she slammed the door to your bedroom. 

You threw your pillows on the floor while wailing out loud, though it will never be heard. You weren’t sure what went wrong in your life, but everything seems to become a failure every fucking minute. 

The following day, you decided to return to school. With visible dark circles under your eyes, you lazily walked to your desk where Oikawa was already waiting for your presence. 

“Hey, are you okay? You didn’t come to school for two days. What happened?” Oikawa's gentle voice greeted you the first thing in the morning. He sounded worried. You shrugged your shoulders, ignoring his questions for the time being. 

You were quiet, not even bothering to pick a fight with Oikawa like you guys always do. Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi, asking him if he knew what’s going on with you. It turned out Iwaizumi didn't know about it either. 

Iwaizumi inhaled a deep breath, lowkey suspecting that you were going through something. Probably had something to do with your boyfriend. But, he knew better than to intervene. If you ever come to him, then he’ll keep you company.  

Every second passing by felt like an eternity. You kept on going to the bathroom only to break down in the cubicle. If this goes on any longer, you’d collapse for sure.

“Y/N! Let’s go to lunch!” Oikawa cheerfully said as he closed his textbook and kept it under his desk. You looked at him, “Okay.” Your short answer freaked him out a bit. That was the first thing you said to him on that day. 

Oikawa didn’t realize you were walking slowly until he realized you had collapsed on the floor. The other students gasped in shock as they gathered around you to check on your condition. 

The brunette gasped as he yelled for Iwaizumi’s name to ask for his help. Both of them ran to get you, who just collapsed on the floor. 

“Can someone call the teacher?” Iwaizumi asked one of the students there to go and get help. Iwaizumi checked on your pulse, making sure it’s still beating. Fuck. His mind was about to explode from all the possibilities. 

Oikawa rested your head in his lap. Not long after, the teacher came and brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Iwaizumi was with you the entire ride to the hospital. He couldn’t keep himself patient. A million thoughts were running in his mind. 

You heard people whispering around you the moment you opened your eyes. You looked around you and found your mother, your teacher and... Iwaizumi? It’s him, right? You weren’t mistaken. His sharp jawline and raven hair. No one else looks as gorgeous as him. 

Wait. That’s not right to be thinking of it this time.

Iwaizumi glanced over at you and noticed you’re already awake. “Doctor, she’s awake!” he immediately told the doctor in front of him. 

The doctor rushed to get to you and checked on your condition. “She’s awake, professor”, the doctor informed your mother. Your mother let out a relieved sigh before she approached you on the hospital bed. 

“Your friend told you that you collapsed at school today. What happened?” your mother asked. Not even an ounce of worry flowed in her tone. But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried when she got a call from the teacher informing her that you collapsed in school. 

“I was sick. I guess,” you sarcastically replied. You kept your head hung low, not wanting to look at everyone in the eyes. Embarrassing, you thought. How weak and pathetic. 

She went silent for a moment. It was entirely her fault for neglecting you yesterday. The truth is, she just didn’t know how to comfort you the way your late father had always comforted you. And she was fine with you blaming her because she’s at fault. 

The silence was deafening and Iwaizumi felt awkward being in the middle of this hospital room. He glanced over at you who returned an awkward glance. 

Your mother didn’t say anything but ensured that you're okay before telling you that she had a minor surgery to perform on a patient. "I have surgery in 10 minutes. I have to go now. Take care, darling. I’ll come back to you when I’m done,” your mother said as she patted your head.

Before she left, she stopped in her tracks to look at your teacher and the man beside you, Iwaizumi.

"Thank you for coming here with her. I owe you a lot," your mother thanked Iwaizumi and your teacher. Your teacher then left to take care of school matters, leaving you under Iwaizumi's supervision. 

He stood there and watched you with a stoic expression. Well, it’s not like you could read him anyway. Both of you exchanged stares as silence surrounded the hospital room. 

“What are you doing here? You have practice, idiot!” you blurted out in half-murmurs. It’s not like you didn’t know about this man and his volleyball practices. He can easily get scouted as a professional volleyball player with his routine. Obviously you didn’t want him to waste his time keeping you company at the hospital. 

You heard a scoff from the man that had you looking at him with a furrowed eyebrow. Iwaizumi locked eyes with you.   

“Even when you’re sick, you’re still acting like a brat?” Iwaizumi shot you a look with an indecipherable expression. 

His words silenced you. “I’m sorry. You have practice. You should get back to school, or else you’ll miss practice. I am being a considerate person, Iwa. I know how practices are important to you.” 

Iwaizumi shrugged his shoulders, “Oikawa said it’s fine. He wants to visit you this evening. After he arrives, I’ll leave with him.” 

You didn’t know how to respond other than asking them to not mind you. So, you gave him a slow nod, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Do you need anything to eat? I’ll go and buy it for you,” Iwaizumi offered. He still remembered how he reacted when the doctor said you collapsed because of dehydration and lacked nutrients. In reality, you starved yourself for the past two days and hid alone in your bed. 

“Never mind. It’s useless asking you, anyway. I’ll just go buy whatever that will make you full,” Iwaizumi decided. He walked out of the door and went to the convenience store in the hospital. You didn’t get to say a word so you watched him leave. 

Iwaizumi came back with food and even fruits in his hands. “I just bought whatever is left. So, eat this for now. I think the nurse will come back with a meal later. Have this for now.” 

The plastic bag was then shoved into your hands but Iwaizumi took it back and placed it on the table instead. He took out the food one by one so you could take a look and choose what you wanted to eat first. 

You felt like he was scolding you instead of asking you to eat. Feeling dazed, you only stared at the food in front of you.

“I know for a fact that you would hate someone to feed you, or are you actually waiting for that?” Iwaizumi clicked his tongue as he sat on the chair beside your bed. 

You scoffed, “I can eat by myself, Iwa.” You proceeded to take the microwaved rice with curry and fed yourself a spoonful of rice. You chew the tasteless food, only to pour it all out not long after.

You ran to the toilet in your room and poured everything you’ve eaten just now. Iwaizumi gasped. He ran after you to ensure you’re fine. He held your hair for you while you were puking in the toilet bowl. You sat beside the toilet bowl lifelessly. Your head was aching like crazy to the point you felt like the whole world was spinning at a rapid speed.

Iwaizumi could only stare at you. “What happened to you exactly?” Iwaizumi asked with a laid-back voice. He was concerned. He was just trying to look out for a friend. Well, he definitely knew something was wrong with you the moment you skipped school after yelling at him the other day. 

You chuckled tiredly. Your energy was drained, leaving you with nothing. “I guess you can predict what happened to me, right?” 

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. What did you mean? Though his suspicions might be right. He is rarely wrong. Instead, he gave you a reply of “I am not a mind reader. Spit it out.” 

You tried to get back up, but your legs gave up on you. Iwaizumi helped you to get up and brought you back to your bed. He’s still waiting for your answer. 

“I broke up with Semi, and it turned out he was cheating with your ex-girlfriend. What a funny world,” you chuckled. You looked outside the high rise window next to your bed with the view of skyscrapers. 

“That’s all?” Iwaizumi questioned. You nodded weakly, expecting him to lecture you.

“Look, I know you loved him, but you have to take care of yourself too, you know. He doesn’t do you any good. It’s time for you to let that toxic relationship go to waste, Y/N,” Iwaizumi lectured you, but clearly you weren’t listening to what he said. 

Iwaizumi tilted your face gently with his fingers. You weren’t even looking at him in the eyes as tears dropped on your face. “I’m sorry if I ever did anything wrong to you, Iwa”, you apologized. 

“Why are you crying? Oh my goodness,” Iwaizumi panicked. He genuinely did not know what to do in this situation. Slowly, he brought your head to his warm body. “It’s unlike you to cry, tough girl”, his voice softened while patting your head gently. 

You chuckled, your vision glistening with tears. Iwaizumi’s touch made you feel comfortable, something that you need at the moment. 

“My mom didn’t even care about me. Sh-she just left..” you mumbled softly under your breath. Your tears weren't stopping spilling out from your tears duct.

“She's busy, right? You know that more than anyone,” Iwaizumi hummed. His voice was soothing that it made you smiled, but you made sure you kept it hidden from Iwaizumi himself. He’d tease you endlessly if he ever sees you smile because of what he said. 

“Dumbass, you need to eat. Are you trying to get sick again? Come on, eat this,” Iwaizumi said as he pointed to the rice he bought for you just now. You let out a deep sigh as you stared at the rice with a blank expression. You had lost your appetite, to be frankly speaking. 

You took another bite, making sure your stomach fully digest it. Iwaizumi on your side waited for you to eat your meal properly. You felt like you had hired a personal bodyguard with him staring down on you the entire time.

“Iwa, you don’t have to look at me like that”, you scoffed lightly at him while feeding yourself another bite of the rice. 

“I was making sure you’re eating properly”, Iwaizumi exclaimed. He dragged the chair closer to you. You gave a side glance at him, “Stop!” you yelled with a giggle. 

“Oh, is that a laugh I hear?” Iwaizumi teased you. You shook your head continuously, trying to deny it even though the hard smile on your face was evident. 

“I was sure I heard you laughed”, he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just let out an annoyed sigh with rolled eyes at him. Both of you then looked at each other with a smile. 

“Oikawa's gonna be here after school, by the way. He’s bringing Matsukawa and Makki along,” he informed you as he just got a message from Oikawa saying he’d drop by after school ends. 

“Oh. You guys, you know... don’t have to visit me. You guys have practices after all,” you mumbled awkwardly while fidgeting with your fingers on top of the hospital's thin blanket. 

Iwaizumi frowned at your sentence, “Our friend is sick, of course, we have to pay a visit. Don’t you think you would do the same thing too?" He crossed his arms while staring at you with an unreadable look. Whatever you said just now made him questioned if you really look at the four of them as friends. 

You chuckled rigidly, “I’ve never had a real friend other than Yuuji, you know. That's why I was surprised seeing you guys here." 

“Oh- Terushima, you meant? I’m sorry if my words offended you,” he apologized, realizing what he said earlier might come across as rude. 

“Yeah, Yuuji is my only friend. He knows everything. Even if I’m stubborn, he still sticks with me. I owe him a lot,” you chattered, another tear dropped on your face. It’s just that you have gone through a lot, and it sickened you that nothing in your life ever worked out anymore. 

“Do you want me to give him a call that you got admitted? I can do that for you,” Iwaizumi asked. He knew how important Yuuji is to you. 

“I’ll tell him myself soon,” you smiled bitterly.

“How soon were you talking about?” Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. It’s not like he doesn’t know how you are, generally. 

You let out a soft sigh, “Truthfully, he’d nag if he knew I got admitted again.” 

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi asked. His expression showed that he didn’t get what you meant. 

A nervous chuckle escaped your mouth. You were clueless about how to break it to him. “I’ve been admitted to hospital several times, to be honest. So, you know, he’ll nag the shit out of me if he knows this.”

You clearly saw his confused expression. Iwaizumi cleared his throat, “Of course he’d nag you, dumbass. Who wants to see their friend falls sick?”

“I know. I know that Iwa. It's just that... Nevermind. But, thank you so much for helping me today,” you thanked him again with a genuine smile this time.

Not long after, Oikawa, along with Makki and Matsukawa, arrived at your door with a bag of food. You smiled at them weakly, trying to give them a warm welcome.

“What happened, Y/N? I was shocked when the ambulance rushed you to the hospital,” Makki asked as he took a seat on the couch provided. You let out a soft sigh, “I was just stressed, and then I passed out. It happened before, so no worries.”

“That doesn’t convince me. Iwa-chan, what happened?” Oikawa appealed. He crossed his arms and looked at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi glanced over at you, “Y/N starved herself. She said she forgot to eat.”

Matsukawa looked at you with a mischievous smile, “Y/N, you’re really something. How could you forget to eat unintentionally? What’s wrong?” His tone was hinting that he couldn’t believe such mistake could happen.

Ah, there you were, caught red-handed. You bit your lip, “I-um, I suffered a loss of a loved one, okay? So.. yeah.”

“Oh my, what happened?” Oikawa asked this time. He was genuinely concerned and he also thought you had lost someone you truly loved.

“Y/N broke up with her boyfriend”, Iwaizumi blurted at last. Oikawa looked at you in disbelief, “What? I thought someone passed away or something. That douchebag? God, Y/N, you deserve so much better!”

You scoffed at Oikawa's words, “I know. My best friend has been telling me that every time. Thank you for the gentle reminder, Oikawa. I appreciate it. Thanks for dropping by too. I truly appreciate all of you coming here today.”

"Stop with that nonsense, please. We are your friends. That's what friends should do the very least," Oikawa scoffed dramatically. His brown eyes landed on your weak figure. He knew how painful your breakup was. Oikawa was in your place once upon a time. "You have to let go of that relationship, Y/N. Trust me," Oikawa said.

Yeah, the same old thing. You know it but you just couldn’t do it. Being cheated on is the final straw and you have to let this relationship for your own good too. Moving on takes time but everything starts from zero. You are not sure how you are going to do it, but you know it definitely will take you somewhere.

“Your words of wisdom might convince me someday but I’ll try. Thanks,” you gave him a bitter smile and Oikawa gave you the boyish grin that has all of his fan girls falling on their knees. Hopefully they will not come after you.

Iwaizumi gave his friends a once over, “She’s back.”

All of them burst into laughter after Iwaizumi said that, insinuating your sarcasm was the indicator of you coming back. You swatted him on the arm and he ruffled your hair messily.

“You’ll pay for that, Iwa,” you threatened him with a glare.

“Gladly looking forward to it,” he said with a glint of mischievous in his eyes, along with the stupid grin you wanted to wipe from his face.

Funny enough, your stupid heart decided to flutter at his remarks. Well, looks like you have another trouble to look out for.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #hq smut #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #[💭]. ain’t my fault

[tallymonster]

Memories of Us chapter 9

AO3 link

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

Little baby warning, it does get angsty and there are some mentions of sex, no smut yet though, sorry guys.

Giving @cheesy-cryptid all the flowers for their beautiful art. Without it I wouldn't be writing this massive project I have given myself lol

Also giving flowers to my bestie @micropoe10 ✨ she's gonna be reading parts of this for the first time with everyone so I can't wait to see her reaction hehehe

Tag list:

@justporo @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @tragedybunny @davenswitcher @wayward-hel

Chapter 9

why cuts aren't healing

The relationship between Astarion and Octavia had changed since her little intrusion. She had seen him walking around without the glasses, finally. Whatever reasoning he had for that was lost on her, since he stopped speaking directly to her.

 He would just stare, those fire orange eyes seemed to burn into her seething with a mix of disappointment, rage, betrayal. Gale had the unfortunate duty of passing her messages from Astarion, working as their in between. 

 The cold notes Astarion would send in with Gale were only about work. No smarmy comments, no sarcastic airs, just boring work. Octavia crumples up and throws the note in the garbage next to her.

 "Do you think he's ever going to speak to me?" She asks Gale, flatly. She inhales deeply and slumps down on the chair. 

 "Octavia, you literally broke the one rule the man has for ALL OF US. What were you expecting? A handshake? A pat on the head? Please."

 Gale looked at her with an annoyed face, his tone not much further. "Listen, let him brood, it'll be good for him. For you too. Maybe you'll learn what 'private' means."

 Gale isn't hiding that he's mad, but there's a hint of concern behind it. He obviously cares for Astarion, but he can only do so much for these two. 

  --------------------—-------------------

 In his dusty office, Astarion still obsesses over the argument with Octavia. She was so afraid of him. Even as she was being torn down, she still looked at him with a nurturing curiosity.

 The entire thing confused him, why did she smell like Tav? Why do her eyes look at him like hers did? She reminded him so much of his lost love. Was he imagining it, or was it the regret playing tricks on his mind again?

It had been one hundred and fifty years since he let the human go. She was desperate to join him in the Underdark, she could help him, they were in love after all. 

 Somehow Astarion couldn't ask her to give up her life in the sunlight for him. She screamed, begged, pleaded, fought, and cried. Nothing would move him from this firm stance. He couldn't take her from the only life she had known above ground. Especially not now that they were all being hailed as heroes. 

 The look on her face when he denied her was still seared into his memories. The necessary pain he had to put her through to save her. He was too cowardly to face it, so he left in the night. 

 Never looking back at the Elfsong Tavern, never seeing his friends, letting them all kill him in their minds. They were all dead now, or they assumed he was. There was no point in dwelling on his own actions. 

 Still, he can't help but wonder, what happened to them? Did Lae'zel and Shadowheart ever forgive his choices? Was his Gale truly happy like the letters his great grandson gave him said? Did Wyll and Karlach even make it to Avernus? Astarion let the sorrow fill his core, the despair growing and twisting into total apathy. 

 He often thought of his last night with Tav, the way he had to lie to calm her down. Her tears as he kissed her worries away. His hands on her body, feeling her come undone with every touch. She crashed her lips on his desperately, the worry and insecurities followed by hunger and lust. 

 Her soft cries of pleasure and heartbreak echo in his ears as they have each night for almost a century and a half. Her slow caresses were pleading him to stay, to never leave her alone. They had grown so much together, she trusted him with her blood, her body, and her heart. They had risked everything and came out the other side. 

 He decides then to bring her to bliss one last night before never indulging in her ever again. To feel her running hot in his icy veins, warm with her glorious blood. She was always so generous with her gifts. Her blood, her love, her body. He should be ashamed to want to leave them all behind. 

So many have killed for the type of love and affection that he had in his hands. He was foolish to let it slip through like the ashes he would turn into if he walked into the sun like he imagined so long ago. 

 His mind couldn't help but wonder.

 

Was she happy? Did she forget him? Did she ever have the family she wanted? She always wanted kids, and even though he wasn't sure if he could give her some without dangerous risks, he would have done it for her. Even if he wasn't sure he ever wanted them himself, he .

 He closes his eyes and hears her voice, soft and melancholy in the cold white hue of the moonlit night.

 I will do anything for you, I love you. 

 You have me, my Star.

 I'm yours forever. 

 Don't leave me. 

 

Please.

 The memories were all too painful, he tried hard to suppress the anger, grief and regret. but it burned like a house fire. Slowly, then all at once. He slams one of his fists onto the desk in front of him. The pain shoots up his wrist and arm, making his shoulder vibrate. 

 He winces and swipes off the papers on his desk, he keeps punching the desk until he can't feel his right hand. The good thing is that he won't be too badly hurt if he kills a big animal tonight. It should still be easy to catch a deer, even in this weakened state. 

 

The aggression won't stop, he wants to yell, to destroy this whole facade, but he can't. His whole 'new' life is built on the foundation of his old one. He can't move on, no matter how many times he's lied to himself about it. No matter how many times he's tried he can still sense her. 

 There was a bit of a complication now, though. Octavia reminded him so much of her. The thought kept replaying in his head, all the little things he had noticed these last months.

 She had the same tilted laugh, the same sweet smile that lights up her face, her way of challenging him to get a playful rise out of him. Maybe there was something there but now he can't face her. Why had she violated his only wish, what could possibly compel her to sneak in and spy on him like that? 

 Astarion lets all the emotion rise, his breathing quickens, his chest feels like it's tightening, the pain that was in his arm takes over his whole body and he falls into the chair behind him.

 His head throbs, and it almost feels like that fucking tadpole made its way back inside him. The room is spinning and shrinking all at once. The shadows in the corners slowly growing darker around him.

  The sound that comes from him erupts from his lungs, a rumbling sob that he can't suppress. The little he feels now comes out in giant tears, he gasps for air as if he's digging himself out of the grave again.

 Nothing can stop the flow of emotions rippling from within. The shaky breaths tumble out, bathed in the chill of the room. He buries his head in his hands and lets it all melt away. 

 The sorrow he feels washes over him, the memories and lost time all pouring out. The weight of the years, the grief, all the stupid things he said and did that hurt them. He never meant to do any of it. He was just trying to protect them. His loneliness kept them safe, it was the only thing he could tell himself after all these years of self isolation.

 As much as he hates putting up his walls with Octavia, she seems remorseful enough to respect this distance he's forced upon them. Practically punishing herself to gain back his favor. He can tell with the way she'll quickly turn away when he catches her looking at him, or how her eyebrows do that thing…

 Oh no. 

 Oh Gods…

 The realization hits him all at once. He's got to apologize if he even thinks this could work in his favor.

 She deserves some compassion from him, at least. It's time to let go of the fear and to show someone he can be open to feeling like this again. 

 He's scared, always has been. It feels different now somehow, he only has to open the door and let it in, whether it will welcome him or engulf him in its flames was to be discovered in due time.

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #fic: memories of us #bg3 headcanon #bg3 fanfic