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lovelyhan · 9 months

Text

— ode to you ⟢

if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.

or: 25 lives in which you find and don't find jeonghan.

★ FEATURING; jeonghan x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 6.9k words

★ TAGS; reincarnation, multiple lives, pining, angst, suggestive scenes but no smut, sooo many tropes

★ WARNINGS; mentions of blackmail, implied murder, implied depression, mentions of puking/vomiting, mentions of car accidents major character death

★ NOTES; i was supposed to work on my collab fics but i feel like i've gotten a little rusty w my prose so i wrote this as a little writing exercise of sorts :D i've written for other fandoms in this format before and i thought it was high time i did the same for seventeen with my ult of all ults <3 i hope you enjoy!

this is inspired by tongari's 25 lives

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti–red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon

★ JEONGHAN TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @bias-recs - @lunaryoongie

01. the very first time i remember you, you are blonde and you don’t love me back.

One strict rule that you make sure to uphold with all of your clients is that business comes first before all else.

You're a well-known freelancer that lands gigs left and right from high-end fashion brands and magazines alike. The only way your career managed to survive in such a cut-throat industry is because of the strict professionalism you never failed to maintain.

That's until you meet Jeonghan for the first time.

Fluffy blonde hair framing his face, curling just along the edges. Slanted eyes that crinkle just a bit whenever he smiles. And a lazy grin that betrays just how nonchalant he is about the entire thing. Like he knows he's gorgeous he is and how everyone else in the vicinity is aware of the fact, too.

You've worked with a handful of people with breathtaking features in in the past, but there doesn't seem to be any word in any language that could encapsulate just how mesmerizing Jeonghan is.

For the first time in your career, you find yourself wanting to reach for the subject being captured by the lens of your camera. Just to make sure he was an actual person and not some doll crafted from fine silk and porcelain. The fact that he's modeling with a bouquet of lush flowers does little to your peace of mind.

But your innate professionalism overrules whatever nonsensical desires your sleep-deprived brain could conjure in that moment.

Once you're satisfied with the material you've come up with, you're quick to dismiss Jeonghan and the rest of the team, and call it a day. You have another shoot to oversee in less than two hours and you'd like to avoid the rush hour traffic if you can.

Yet, despite your urgency, you stop halfway to the door to the studio—casting a sidelong glance at the person who's supposed to be one of your temporary colleagues and none else.

"Jeonghan," you call out, his name tasting bittersweet on your tongue. "It was nice working with you today."

He barely glances up at you from the soft glow of his phone screen, not even a smile spared your way.

"Yeah, sure."

02. the next time, you are brunette, and you do.

Yoon Jeonghan is the biggest menace you've met in your life.

Not only does he keep stealing your parking space in the office basement and plucks off the last brownie in the pantry during break time, but he's after the promotion you've been vying after for months, too.

Needless to say, he's public enemy number one in your eyes, and all your colleagues are well aware of the scorching rivalry you two constantly waged in the workspace.

But on the night before you're set to present the proposal that you swear up and down would make your superiors choose you over that sniveling prick, the Devil himself swoops into your cubicle with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Do you really not see it?"

You frown at him as you shove your laptop into your bag with an air of irritation. "See what? That they're going to select you for the promotion? I don't, actually. That's why I'm—"

The words promptly melt on your tongue when Jeonghan forces a hand on divider separating your space with the others—trapping you with a sleazy look on his face. His dark brown tresses fall across his piercing eyes but you force yourself to hold your ground.

In the midst of it all, a moment's worth of familiarity crosses your mind.

Blonde hair styled to perfection. A bouquet of flowers just as beautiful as the man that models for them.

How long has it been since then?

"Can't you see that I'm only doing all this to get your attention?" he chuckles. "I've always known you're a bit slow on the uptake, but you might need an extra push in the right direction."

You gulp nervously. "W-What's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan shakes his head, amusement dancing across his features in a way that makes you want to smack him, if not for the laws imposed on the land.

"Have dinner with me tonight and I'll withdraw from the competition" he propositions. "How's that sound?"

...Isn't this blackmail? It definitely sounds like blackmail.

But despite knowing that you should just bring your knee up to smash into his family jewels, your face heats up with the implications of his offer instead.

An offer that you begrudgingly accept.

03. after a while i give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything.

"Really?"

Jeonghan grins when he steps into your apartment sporting his newest dye job. You're perfectly aware that idols these days get the most outrageous hair colors, but you didn't think his stylist would be daring enough to pull off long purple hair for Jeonghan just a few months after his group's debut.

Over the years, Jeonghan cycles through a lot more colors than you'd ever thought he'd be willing to try. Blonde, pink, red, brown, silver—all of them, he pulls off with grace.

Even when his idol days are over, he still gets bouts of wanting to march into the nearest salon for another makeover, and you rectify this by just buying the cheapest bleaching kits online despite his whines in protest.

"Our stylist noonas would've been alright with a house call." He pouts just a little as you force him to sit still. "It might come out all patchy."

"Do you have so little faith in your partner's bleaching skills?" you huff, dipping the brush you have in one hand into the bowl of sharp-smelling bleaching mix in the other. "Your stylists noonas charge a fortune, too. We're better off doing it ourselves."

Jeonghan laughs. "You act like we can't afford it."

Turns out, you fucked up the portions of your little bleach concoction and your harmless session resulted into googling first aid for bleaching burns and soaking Jeonghan's scalp with coconut oil for the rest of the day.

"Sorry," you mumble as you help rinse out the oil the next morning. "Do you want to contact your stylist or head to a salon instead?"

Despite your wary disposition, Jeonghan merely breathes out a chuckle, taking your hand in his as he meets your eyes in the bathroom mirror.

There, two rings glimmer in the morning light—the one he shares with his twelve brothers and the one you slid onto his index on the day of your wedding.

"I've been through worse, love. This is nothing," he insists before pressing a soft kiss across your knuckles. "Let's just let my scalp rest for a few days before we dye it, okay?"

You shake your head with a laugh. Really, what are you supposed to do with this man?

"If you insist."

04. because even when you don’t exist, i'm still in love with you.

"You got my name wrong again."

In the middle of packing a takeout bag for the food delivery guy waiting in the corner of the café, you look up to some familiar college kid standing in front of the counter with a furrow on his brow. A regular, maybe.

"Sorry?" you ask, brain a little too frazzled to make sense of what he was trying to say.

Said college kid shows you the underside of his cup—the name Jeonghan scribbled hastily onto the material.

"My name's Jeongin," he sighs. "I've been coming here everyday and I swear, you always get it wrong."

"Well, I'm so sorry, Jeongin, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," you manage to wrench out before calling out to the delivery guy, saying the order was ready for pick-up.

Funnily enough, you end up living together with Jeongin by some twist of fate. Your shoes are lined up with his outside the apartment, toothbrushes lying in the same cup in the bathroom, and you even steal his hoodies every now and again.

But what you don't tell your boyfriend of five years is how you still dream of the man whose name brought you together in the first place.

A man who you don't get the pleasure to meet in this life, much like a dozen others that came before.

05. i remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together

In the past (though its definition is a little...unique in your case), you were convinced that just because Jeonghan is the sole singularity to which your existence is anchored to, that doesn't necessarily mean you'll get to have him and him alone in each life.

Yet in this one, you're fully convinced that he's the only person who'll ever have your heart.

It's on a cold, winter afternoon when you realize that you're in love with the boy that showed you how to cross the monkey bars in elementary school. The boy who gives you his packed lunch whenever you forget yours at home. The boy who taught you how to pick locks so you could sneak into his father's liquor shop and get drunk behind the counter.

Jeonghan has always been a fascinating person in whatever life you meet him. But now that you've got a taste of what it feels to grow up alongside him—witnessing him transition from a snotty kid to a troublesome adult—you can't picture yourself wanting anyone else.

He's rightfully startled when you confess your feelings merely minutes after having realized them. You've lived through this endless cycle of meeting and parting ways enough times to know that there's no room for uncertainty.

And each time he accepts you with open arms, the relief that washes over you feels like the first time all over again.

06. when i share my secrets and sorrows and hiding places with you.

There are times when you're the one who doesn't remember the lives you've lived in the seemingly endless cycle.

When you meet Jeonghan in this life, it's with shoulders carrying the weight of emotional baggage and dreams that have been crushed right before your eyes. It's an understatement to say that you're inexplicably drawn to him as if he's a beacon in the dark. But even if you're yet to remember, Jeonghan has always been easy to trust. Easy to fall into.

One night is particularly heavier than the rest. Your meds aren't kicking in the way they're supposed to and it's raining much too harshly to pay your comfort person a late night visit.

Yet when you call your boyfriend as you choke on your own tears, he's at your door in half an hour—paper bags full of all your favorite snacks in hand with a smile that feels like a ray of sunlight amidst a raging storm.

But he's quick to drop all of it and pull you into a hug when he sees the mess you are in the living room.

"I'm a bad person," you sob into his chest, clinging to the fabric of his jacket as he placates you in his tender embrace. "I'm s-selfish and always just think about myself. I've done so many terrible things, Hannie... How could you even love someone like me?"

Jeonghan doesn't answer right away. He calms you down for the better part of an hour before rising to get you a glass of water in the kitchen. Your boyfriend watches with quiet attentiveness until the look on your face tells him that you're ready to talk again.

"So what if you're a bad person, love?" he murmurs before planting a kiss on your forehead. "Tell me every terrible thing you did and let me love you anyway."

Despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh. "Which cheesy pocketbook did you pull that one out of?"

"Hey, I drove for thirty minutes in the rain and this is how you thank me?" He huffs before reaching for a bag of chips he haphazardly strewn across the coffee table, tearing it open and offering you a piece. "I read that on Pinterest, by the way."

07. i love how you play along with my bad ideas

In many, many lives, Jeonghan is not yours to love.

And that's okay. There isn't a fine print stating that because you're blessed (cursed?) to meet him in each lifetime, you're meant to be together against all odds.

Fate is fickle like that—so unpredictable that you never really know how to act whenever you do cross paths with Jeonghan eventually.

Still, even if you're not destined to be lovers, you can still love him in other ways.

Like helping him sneak out of his third period lecture so he can come watch local street performers hold a fundraising show in some underground bar. You do all this because he once told you that he wanted to support them in any way he could.

If only Jeonghan could see the grin on his face that gets wider with each dancer that takes the stage, he wouldn't have a hard time wondering why it was so easy to fall in love with him.

"So when's the next time you'll help me sneak out of a lecture?" Jeonghan asks as the two of you head back to campus at a mellow pace even if Jeonghan's next classes starts in ten minutes.

You hum as if genuinely contemplating. "Maybe after you do me a huge favor in return for this one."

Your shoulders bump together as he lets out an easygoing laugh. As the late afternoon sunlight filters through a canopy of trees and onto your best friend's face, you feel a tug at your heartstrings that urges you to pull him in for a kiss.

But you don't.

08. before you grow up and realize that they’re bad ideas.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

Jeonghan's voice sounds considerably spooked when the amusement park staff locks in the over-the-shoulder restraints. The buzz of excitement from other visitors rings in your ears and he seems to be the only person that isn't looking forward to being on a rollercoaster.

"You act like this is the first time you've been on one." You roll your eyes. "Just relax and feel the wind on your face, yeah? If it gets too much just hold my hand or whatever."

You should not have offered in the first place because by the time the you've made two trips around the wildly looped tracks, you're convinced Jeonghan has already cut any and all circulation to your fingers with how tightly he's gripping your hand.

But still...you can't deny that it feels a little nice to be needed by him.

09. (and in our lives together i have many, many bad ideas.)

“Do I know you?”

Jeonghan makes the mistake of blurting out those very strange words when he catches you sitting right next to him at the bar. You startle when he breaks the ice, fully convinced you're the one who had to initiate when you deliberately slid into the stool to his right.

Amused, you study him without much of a real expression before the tension in your posture melts into gentle laughter.

“No,” you say with a tone that suggests you're making fun of him. “But we could get out of here so we can get to know each other better. What’s your name?”

A dozen expressions flit across Jeonghan's face in mere seconds and you would've laughed again if you didn't know the reason behind the perplexity of his reactions.

“It’s Jeonghan. But you can call me…”

Before he can get the rest of the pick-up line out, he promptly throws up all over your outfit.

10. when we meet as adults, you're always much more discerning. I don't blame you.

"Again."

Your sweat beads across your forehead and drips onto the floor as you catch your breath. Palms braced across your knees, you look up to your mentor with a resentful glare.

In this life, Jeonghan—who was considered part of the 'anemic line' in his group eternities ago—is now one of the most well-known choreographers in the industry and would probably put Soonyoung to shame with how much of a perfectionist he is when it comes to your routines.

"Can't I get a five-minute water break?" you plead.

"You can get one when you think you deserve it," he says flatly before crossing his legs. "Do you?"

Much to your chagrin, you're just as much of a perfectionist as he is in this life. You shake your head with a guttural sigh, forcing yourself back into position despite your muscles aching for a break.

You don't miss the way Jeonghan smiles at your display of determination, but you don't let yourself think much of it either.

11. yet, always, you forgive me.

Jeonghan is upset with you.

He has all the right to be, really. You promised that you'll leave enough candy bars from your Trick or Treat haul to last both of you for a week, but you ended up overeating while binging your afternoon cartoons and now there's only one stick of chocolate left in the hollow, pumpkin-shaped bucket.

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "Do you want to go to the candy store to buy some more? I can break my piggy bank if—"

"No, you're saving up for that new game on your Nintendo DS, right?"

The fact that he actually remembers that makes you gape at him. "Um, yeah, but it's no big deal. A candy bar is only worth a few—"

Not giving you any leeway to speak any further, Jeonghan grabs the last candy bar inside the bucket—tearing the packaging open with his teeth before breaking the chocolate in half in the middle. Despite his annoyance, he hands you the other half with a small pout.

"Then just keep saving up so we can play it together," he grumbles and even when he's barely eight years old, it comes so natural for him to show you how much he cares about you.

12. as if you understand what’s going on

"Do you go here often?"

You flash the stranger who's speaking to you a befuddled look—not expecting to hear a line typically used on you in bars at your father's yacht club, of all places. He's wearing tattered jeans and an atrocious pink flannel over an equally tattered shirt. You wonder if he's just going for an odd aesthetic or if he's in dire need of a closet makeover.

"No. I'm just waiting for my father," you tell the man honestly before glancing at the boats docked by the pier. "He bought another yacht that I'm sure he won't even think of after bragging about it to his friends."

The stranger laughs. "I know how you feel. My old man's just as materialistic as yours sounds."

Oh. Maybe he is just going for an odd aesthetic with his fit after all.

"Wouldn't have thought you were a nepo baby, too," you snort before kicking a lone pebble into the water—watching it sink into the depths until it's out of sight. "I thought you were one of the boys that maintain these things while their owners completely forget about them."

"Hmm, I can be anything you want me to be," he chuckles and even if you've only met this guy five minutes ago, something about his laughter sounds so oddly familiar.

"The name's Jeonghan, by the way." The not-so stranger smiles and the feeling that you know him from somewhere intensifies tenfold.

"What's yours?"

13. and you're making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn't exist

You like to think of yourself as an independent person.

You've crossed literal lifetimes in the strangest rendition of immortality that you've never once read in all the books you've deigned to pick up in this never-ending eternity. It's only natural for you to be self-sufficient.

But when it comes to Jeonghan, you always get to refamiliarize yourself with what it feels like to be lonely.

There are things about him that you consider irreplaceable: the curve of his easygoing smile, the warmth of his slender fingers, and the touch you yearn for constantly.

You're perfectly aware that you don't need Jeonghan for all these lives to gain some semblance of meaning. In fact, it's in the lives where you don't meet him that you get to learn a thing or two about yourself.

But when he is there, when he's the reason you get out of bed everyday, you simply think that a second of being with Jeonghan in the flesh is worth more than a lifetime in his absence.

14. and the ones where we just, barely, never meet.

Your phone is pressed into your ear in the middle of the grocery store because your good friend Joshua thought it was the perfect time to rant about his insufferable boss.

Being the lovely person that you are, you let him talk your ear off as you parse through the cabbages on display—wondering which one you should bring home for salad night.

"He's such a fucking prick, you know?" Joshua groans out the same sentence for the third time since you picked up his call. "No wonder his wife is having an affair behind his back. That's karmic retribution if I've seen it.''

"Shua, have you ever considered just resigning instead of making me your therapist?"

"I have, it's just that finding a new job is way more of a hassle than dealing with my asshole boss everyday," he grumbles. "But about the therapist thing—thanks for always listening to me. I know I can be annoying at times but you always put up with it any..."

Joshua's voice fades into the backdrop of your mind when you spot a flash of pink in the corner of your eyes. You instinctively turn your head in the direction of a stranger running towards the exit of the supermarket—wearing an atrocious pink flannel that you would recognize anywhere in any lifetime.

You briefly apologize to Joshua before ending the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your jeans before leaving your push cart to chase after the figure receding from your line of sight.

You just barely catch him hopping onto a bus when your instincts lead you to further outside. You would have sprinted for a ride, had it not been for the children that obstruct your path with a little game of tag.

By the time you finally shake them off, the bus has already driven past the intersection—snuffing out the candle, leaving you in the dark.

15. i hate those. i prefer the ones in which you kill me.

You've watched a dozen serial killer documentaries in your lifetime—well, lifetimes. They always start the same way: a psychopath with a way with words charming his next unsuspecting victim into their utter demise.

While you absolutely did not know that this life's Jeonghan will turn out to be a crazed lunatic that gets off on seeing another human being's blood on his hands, it doesn't really change the fact that your heart is still tethered to him despite.

He still smiles as sweetly as you can remember as the tip of his knife glides along the column of your throat. His voice is just as comforting in those lives where he'd never forget to kiss you good night right before going to sleep.

"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Jeonghan murmurs. "But you'd be so much prettier if you just lay still."

The last thing you remember seeing is the angelic look on his face as if he's the one who'll personally escort you to the next life.

You don't particularly mind.

16. but when all's said and done, i'd rather surrender to you in other ways.

It's only amidst the post-orgasmic clarity that you realize how much of a fool you are.

These quick trysts you share with Jeonghan are brief. He invites you over under the guise of something that isn't sex for the sake of propriety, only to pull you into his apartment and kiss you until stars danced behind your eyelids.

He's flicks the cigarette he's having on the ashtray as he complains about a coworker he's been trying to get with for the past month. She likes playing hard-to-get, but I like her so much that I don't really mind? Is that weird? Oh, do you want a smoke, too? Sure, let me light you a quick one in a sec—

You're a fool because you've spent dozens, if not hundreds of lives chasing after him—whether you yourself are aware of it or not.

To Jeonghan, this is a life he probably won't remember in the next. To you, it's another inescapable death sentence.

"Maybe you should drop the nice guy act," you suggest before taking a drag of your own—not caring how the ashes stain Jeonghan's crisp white sheets despite his protests. "Showing your true colors is what got you to land me, you know."

"And we all know how much of a catch you are." He winks before killing his cigarette on the ashtray.

You're about to respond with an eyeroll until he plucks the cancer stick off your hands as well, disposing of it the same way he did with his own. When Jeonghan maneuvers himself on top of you again, you let out a withering sigh.

"Maybe I should just date you instead," he giggles before leaning down to nip at your ear, slender arms coiling around your waist. "What do you think?"

"You already told me before that I wasn't your ideal partner, asshole," you remind him with a huff.

Jeonghan hums, a noncommittal sound that seems like there's something else layered underneath. "But what if I told you that already changed?"

It's enticing—the possibility of getting to have him again when you couldn't really call him yours right now. But you know better than to take things that aren't meant for you.

At least, not in this life.

"Stop saying silly things and just fuck me already," you grumble, already tugging off his boxers. "Then you'll delete my number right after so you can finally get with the woman of your dreams. Got that?"

17. even though each time, i know i'll see you again, i always wonder

You've always looked forward to summer.

No more grueling classes. No more deadlines to catch up on. Summer means you get to go back to your hometown for a few weeks, unwinding in ways that your usual schedules don't quite permit you to.

Summer also means you'll get to visit Jeonghan again.

Your mother already has food and flowers prepared in advance—saying Mrs. Yoon kicked up a huge fuss when she found out you were going back home this weekend. You receive the news with fond laughter, noting how the flowers Jeonghan's mother picked out are reminiscent of the ones he held in the very first life you met him.

"I'm graduating next year," is the first thing you tell Jeonghan when you arrive, popping open two ice cold sodas before settling yourself on the grass in front of him. "Can you believe it? Four years of college, just gone in a flash. If you actually went through with your performing arts scholarship, you'd know how I feel."

"I'm thinking of getting a job here instead of the city. You know, so you won't feel too lonely without me," you chuckle, the moisture of your drink beading across your fingers. "Although, your sister keeps insisting that they give you plenty of company already and that I should chase after my own dreams first. She's starting to sound a lot like you, you know that?"

Jeonghan doesn't respond. Of course he doesn't. But you can almost hear his stilted laughter in the warm breeze anyway.

You place the flowers and the cola in front of his gravestone with a bittersweet pang in your chest. But before the tears can get the chance to escape, you turn on your heel and leave the cemetery altogether.

You didn't always look forward to summer after the accident that took the love of your life away. But knowing that your best friend—your soulmate—would simply be waiting for you in the next life, things became much, much easier.

18. is this the last time?

"Don't go..."

Jeonghan murmurs the words between drunken hiccups as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You chuckle, smoothing your hand across his sweater-clad back as he clings to you like a koala.

"Hannie, what do you mean?" you whisper as you glance at the mess of empty bottles you'll have to clean up from the coffee table once you put your boyfriend to bed. "I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls away from you briefly, puffy eyes glistening with tears as he lets out a shuddering sigh.

"I had a dream that you left me for some guy named...Jeongin, or whatever," he mumbles. "I promise I'll treat you better than anyone else. Just don't...leave me."

In some way, he remembers. Not everything because even you don't completely recall all the lives you've lived. There's too many of them now, most of which are too painful to think about all over again.

But this is the first actual instance where Jeonghan unknowingly hints that his past lives stay with him even beyond death, and it makes you wonder if he'll start to remember the others in time as well.

"I won't, Hannie," you whisper, weaving the words into a promise that you'll be sure to keep in the next life, and the hundreds of lives that will inevitably follow.

"I won't."

19. is that really you?

There are lifetimes where you try, but it just doesn't work out.

Sometimes, fate carves both you and Jeonghan into mismatched pieces of two different puzzles, and he doesn't even try to convince you to stay as you quietly pack away your belongings in dull brown boxes. The tension in your movements tells him that you knows he's watching.

"I'm not getting back together with you, if that's what you're wondering," you rasp. "If you love your job more than me, then I'll be the one to see myself out."

Jeonghan manages a sad smile that you completely miss—having been so caught up with your frustration with him to look. You thought that in each life he ends up becoming a world-famous idol, it meant that he'd also live all of his days with you by his side.

But things aren't always that simple, and Jeonghan merely stands in resignation as you shut the door to both his house and your heart.

20. and what if you're already perfectly happy without me?

When you took up a job as an events coordinator, never in your wildest dreams did you expect to be planning Jeonghan's wedding, of all things.

He doesn't seem to remember you and you don't really fault him for not recognizing someone he's met literal lifetimes ago. Not when he's obviously so enamored with his current fiancé.

"We were interested in the deluxe package on your website," Seungcheol, his intended, breaks the ice after the formal introductions, showing you a screenshot on his phone. "Is this inclusive of a lights and sound system or will we have to outsource those somewhere else?"

You nearly miss what Seungcheol was asking you—too caught up in how beautiful Jeonghan looks today. He's grown out his hair longer than he usually does and it's half pinned behind his head.

When it takes you a while to respond, both his and Seungcheol's gazes flicker with confusion before your heart sinks with how in tune they are with each other.

"Y-Yes, lights and sounds are already included in the package." You compose yourself with a warm smile. "But you might be interested in the royalty package. This would give you access to..."

21. ah, but i don’t blame you.

"Baby, I'm sorry."

Jeonghan looks like a kicked puppy sitting at the side of the hospital bed with how apologetic he is. You want to tell him that it really is no big deal but with the lower half of your body temporarily paralyzed, you can't really say that's the case.

"I shouldn't have insisted that you come to the music show when it was raining," he groans. "It's a miracle you managed to swerve out of the truck's way."

You wonder if he remembers the life where you lost him to an accident not so different from the one you narrowly escaped last night. The absolute fear in his eyes the moment he saw you covered in casts and bandages is reminiscent of the time you received the phone call informing you of your boyfriend's passing.

But you don't make it a habit to ponder too long about lives that have long come to an end. What's important is now, where you're still living and breathing and able to remain by his side.

"It's not your fault, Hannie," you murmur as you reach out to pet his head with some difficulty. "I shouldn't have gone past the speed limit in the first place."

"Well, you wouldn't have to do that if I wasn't being so pushy about you showing up," he sighs in defeat. "Tell you what, I'll pull out of all our comeback schedules until you can walk by yourself again."

You frown at him. "What? No! Your managers are going to kill you."

"They will, but knowing you'll be all alone while you recover will kill me inside too."

Jeonghan isn't usually this cheeky with you, so you keep this memory tucked away in your consciousness for as long as you can. Knowing there's no talking him out of it once he's got his mind set, you shake your head with a defeated sigh.

"You better take care of me like they do in those five star nursing homes then."

22. i’ll never burn as brilliantly as you.

Your favorite lives, you think, are the ones where he lights up the stage and the entire world as an idol.

He's happiest in these kinds of lives. The bond he shares with the rest of his bandmates transcends even the love you've harbored for him through lifetimes, and if there are people you'll gladly surrender Jeonghan to, it's those twelve boys that will always be his brothers no matter what.

"How was that?"

You're in the middle of giving out stage directions for the next round of performers when Jeonghan walks up to you with his signature, lazy smile. He's sweat-stricken with a stutter to each breath he takes, but he makes himself appear just as composed as he wants you to think.

"Breathtaking as always, Jeonghan," you decide to humor him—knowing that the sooner you give him a compliment, the sooner he'll leave you alone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to—"

"Will you be busy after the show? I wanted to cook dinner for us at home."

A panicked look seizes your face when you gesture for him to keep it down. Your eyes dart around the vicinity—idols and their stylists running around backstage in preparation for the next segment of the show. None of them seemed to have picked up on Jeonghan's little slip of the tongue.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" you whisper sharply over the sound of another fellow stage director paging you in the south entrance. "Anyways, I have to go, Hannie. And please don't go blabbing about our relationship where you shouldn't."

When that idiotically handsome smile doesn't fade from his lips, you know things won't exactly go your way as usual.

23. it's only fair that i should be the one

At some point, you stop counting altogether.

The lives you live with and without Jeonghan blend seamlessly into each other the longer the cycle repeats itself. It doesn't hurt as much when you don't find him, but your heart still gushes with relief when you do.

And yet there are instances where you try to spit in the face of fate itself. Instances where you decide that you don't want to be chained to Jeonghan anymore. That the lives you live belong to you and that you won't let some otherworldly force dictate the course of it any longer.

One day in the summer, in some petty attempt to cheat your way out of fate, you decide to date your next door neighbor.

Sujin has the same eyes as Jeonghan—it’s something you can’t really look past. Maybe that’s what makes it so easy for her to wear down your defenses without breaking a sweat.

But the moment the thought crosses your mind, you wipe out every similarity until you can’t see them anymore. They almost look the same apart from gender, but Sujin is so different from Jeonghan, that for a while, you forget about the burden you've been carrying all this time.

One day in the fall, Sujin talks about meeting her brother for dinner, and you don't really ponder about it—agreeing without a hitch.

But that’s only the first of your many mistakes because the man who walks into the restaurant is Jeonghan. Sujin’s brother, the person who’s kissing your girlfriend on the cheek, is Jeonghan.

“Did you know that Sujin never shut up about you when you brought her the housewarming gift?” Jeonghan snorts before ordering a glass of wine. “Hmm, you look kind of familiar, though… Have we met before?”

“No,” you respond almost instantly.

It doesn’t work. Your master plan of waging war with destiny is rendered utterly useless when Jeonghan bruises his way back into your life. Where Sujin managed to ease herself past the walls you've put up after a few weeks, Jeonghan tears them down in half the time his sister took to pick you apart.

One day in the winter, Sujin breaks up with you, and in spite of the coil of emotions twisting in your chest, you watch her pack her things and move back into the apartment across the hall.

One day in the spring, there’s a knock on your front door that you're in no hurry to answer. You stare at Jeonghan with equal parts irritation and relief when you see him there. His grin reminds you of flowers unfurling as he stares back with a challenge in his eyes.

A challenge you loathe, but one you can never refuse.

24. to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes

“Don’t you ever get tired?”

Your head is resting on Jeonghan's lap when he poses the question, and you think the fact that your eyes are closed is already an answer on its own.

You used to think you were cursed. Maybe you've incurred enough bad karma in your very first life to provide you with a steady stream of misfortune in the next few million lives you're destined to live.

That could be the reason why you have to live all these lives, meet all these people—rinse and repeat. Is this how the gods are punishing you? Is there anyway to atone for sins you can't even remember committing anymore?

Though…when you open your eyes and see Jeonghan staring out into the distance, you have a hard time thinking of him as a punishment.

You sit upright and stretch out your limbs. There’s a kink in the back of your neck that might be resolved by a good night’s sleep, but you offer Jeonghan a hand before you can think about it any more.

“No,” you answer as you twines your fingers together, pulling him back to his feet as he spares you a loving smile.

“Not really.”

25. until i find the one where you'll return to me.

"That bouquet's really pretty."

Jeonghan glances behind him with a confused look—frustration clear on his face from trying to get the new stove he had installed in your kitchen last week to start. When his eyes land on the beautiful spill of flowers bundled up in a vase on the dining table, his features soften with fondness.

"Those are the flowers I had when you met me the first time, right?" he chuckles before taking a seat next to you. "The one where I was a 'prick of a model who wouldn't even bat you an eyelash'?"

Your chest bubbles with laughter at his description. You've grown more and more comfortable with telling Jeonghan about the lives you've shared in eternities that have long unspooled, and just when you feared he'd treat you like someone who escaped an asylum, he instead took all your words to heart.

He doesn't quite remember them all on his own, but when you bring up little pieces from old memories you do manage to dredge up, he's able to complete the pieces of the story to form a coherent picture.

Maybe that's what Jeonghan is to you—someone that isn't exactly necessary to have in your life, but someone who makes it infinitesimally better.

If there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that Jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. He can be crass. He can be secretive. He can be nothing short of vexing.

But he can also be kind, considerate, and present in times when you need him the most.

In the end, he's everything you need him to be.

And you couldn't ask for anything more.

⟢ end notes: me: this is a writing exercise, the word count: pushing 7k :') ok so this wasn't proofread even in the slightest so if you spot any mistakes and errors, no you didn't <3 thank you for joining me in this very self indulgent train of delusion!

#svthub #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan smut #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen headcanons #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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aajxs · 9 months

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meant to be , s.g

synopsis - the one where you're in love and satoru doesn't realize until it's too late.

pairings - satoru gojo x fem!reader

contents - ANGST!!! , gojo is an asshole and y/n is too sweet for her own good , mentions of injuries and blood , major character death , prob ooc gojo

w/c - 1.8k

a/n - I got lazy asf at the end and didn't know how to finish this and I just needed it out of my drafts lol. this is kinda buns but I hope you enjoy it anyways!!

masterlist , part two .

There wasn't supposed to be any grade one curses on your mission. You were supposed to get in, exorcise the few grade three curses, and get out. 'You're strong, stronger than most, so why couldn't you beat them?' You thought to yourself as your back pressed into the concrete wall behind you. You had been sitting here for awhile, and the curses were long gone. You had beaten them up pretty badly, but you just weren't strong enough.

'Satoru could beat them, though. He's stronger than you ever will be.' Said that tiny voice in the back of your head, reminding you over and over again of your weakness.

You kept telling yourself that someone would come for you. Someone would realize you hadn't been at the school in awhile. Someone would come and find you. Maybe it was the false hope that was keeping you alive, maybe it was something else, you weren't sure. You were surprised you hadn't bled to death yet. It felt as if you had been staring aimlessly at the ground for days, yet it had probably only been an hour since the curses left you to die.

You felt a presence somewhere in the building and went to get up. Due to your weakened state you were unsure if it was a curse or another jujutsu sorcerer. You had one hand holding your bloody side, and another hand on the wall in a lousy attempt to get yourself off the cold ground. You cursed under your breath as you pushed yourself off the wall, forcing yourself to walk towards the suspicious presence. Your vision was blurry, you were bleeding from multiple places, and needless to say, you were going to need a new uniform if you even got out of here.

Your day was completely and utterly ruined. 'Not that it was going well in the first place.' You thought as you recalled the encounter you had with Satoru just a few hours prior to your mission.

"'Toru–" You happily began, but you were instantly cut off. "Don't call me that." Satoru irritatedly uttered as the two of you walked side by side through the halls. "Gosh, who pissed in your cereal?" You joked, letting out a small laugh as you purposely bumped shoulders with Gojo, making him give you an annoyed glance.

"Anyways, Satoru, I was wondering if you wanted to-" You began again, "No." He cut you off, quickening his pace. "I didn't even get to finish..?" You awkwardly said, your smile starting to disappear from your face. "Y/N, just leave me alone, I can't deal with you today." Satoru said, making you slow your steps. "What?" You frowned, "But we haven't talked all day?" You sadly uttered, bumping shoulders with him again, this time a bit softer.

He brushed you off his shoulder, "We don't have to talk every day." He said, obviously becoming irritated. "But we're best friends, why wouldn't we..?" You trailed off, confusion and sadness washing over you. When he didn't reply, you went to bump his shoulder again, but you were stopped by his infinity. "Why's your infinity on? You never have it up around me." Your frown deepened at the action. Did he really not want you around him that badly?

"I don't like you touching me Y/N, just go somewhere, I'm not in the mood for you right now." Satoru quietly said, "So you have to be in a certain mood to be a good friend?" You asked, growing more upset by the second, "You could just tell me that you're not feeling well and you don't want to talk right now, you don't have to be an asshole about it." You said, stopping in your tracks.

"I'm not feeling well and I don't want to talk to you right now." He said, his words laced with a mix of irritation and sarcasm. "Satoru if you don't want me around you just say that!" You said, making him abruptly turn to look at you. "I don't want you around me! Is it that hard to give me a little bit of space?! You're always right next to me, always bothering me to hang out with you!" Satoru snapped, "Well, did it ever occur to you that I don't want to hang out with you?! That I don't want to talk to you!?" He said, the hands that were once shoved into his pockets now balled up into fists.

Your lips parted in shock, and you stared at him for a few moments. "I didn't realize that was how you felt." You murmured, "I just-" Your voice cracked slightly, "Nevermind, 'm sorry I said anything." You apologized, attempting to blink back the tears that were forming in your eyes. Your shoulders lightly shook as you walked away, and you prayed he didn't notice your sobs. You didn't know why it hurt so much, it wasn't like it was the first time Satoru had said something along those lines to you.

You don't remember much after that, aside from the fact that you eyes still hurt from crying and Satoru didn't even try to make sure you were alright. On your way out you saw him playing around with Suguru and Shoko.

You let out a few more curse words before making your way towards the nearest wall. There was no use in checking out whatever or whoever had entered the building, you were going to die anyways. You knew your time would come eventually, but now? You're barely seventeen.

You leaned against the wall for a moment before giving in and sliding down the wall to the ground, your blood leaving a few marks along the way. You had barely felt any of your wounds due to shock, but now that the exhaustion was finally hitting you, your body started to hurt even worse than it had ten minutes ago. It wouldn't be long until you passed out from blood loss and finally met your end, you at least wish you could've gone out in a cool way.

You couldn't help the small cries you let out as you sat there, aching against a cold cement wall in an abandoned building. You're gonna die alone in some random, dirty building. You thought as your warm tears made their way down your battered cheeks. You heard the sound of rushed footsteps, and your immediate reaction was placing a hand over your mouth in a lousy attempt to quiet your sobs.

Your ears were ringing and everything around you was muffled, so you couldn't tell if what was approaching was far away or close to you. Your vision was blurred, and the tears only made it worse. In other words, you could barely see or hear a thing.

A hand abruptly grabbing your shoulder snapped you out of your own thoughts and triggered your fight or flight sense, aptly choosing fight. The hand that was once covering your mouth now clenched and pulled back into a weak fist. "It's me! Y/N, it's me!" A familiar voice said, making you slowly put your fist down.

You went back to your original position against the wall. Your eyes were droopy and you felt like you were going to fall asleep. "No– Y/N, stay awake!" The person said as they took your practically limp body into their arms. A hand reached to your face and began shakily wiping your tears, whispering curses under their breath as they cradled you.

"Satoru.." You mumbled, a weak smile appearing on your face. He perked up at your words, the hand that was wiping your tears now cupping your face. "Yes, it's me- Satoru, your Satoru!" Your Satoru. How you longed for those words to come out of his mouth for years. You know that's not what he means, though. You know he'll never be yours.

"Thought you didn't like me anymore, 'Toru..?" You weakly asked, tears still streaming down your face. "Fuck— I didn't mean that, you know I could never dislike you Y/N." He said, anxiety lacing his words. Your half-lidded eyes gazed at him with nothing but adoration, they always have. "I don't think 'm gonna make it, 'Toru." You tiredly said, offering him another weak grin.

"Don't say that! You can't leave," Satoru said, "You're important to me." A small frown appeared on his face as you let out a dry laugh. How could you be laughing at a time like this? "I don't get it," You began, "You've always said I'm important to you-" You cut yourself off with a cough, pain shooting throughout your entire body. "-But you always make me feel like 'm not worth your time." You said, blinking a few times to try and keep yourself awake.

"C'mon Y/N, none of that matters now," He said, his tone getting a bit louder, "Stop fucking talking and stay awake for me." Satoru pleaded, lightly tapping your face. If he could take back everything he ever did wrong to you, he would. "Satoru?" You asked, your voice cracked, the lump in your throat only growing with the pain in your body.

"I wanna go home, 'Toru." You cried, weakly gripping Satorus uniform. "You will go home. We jus' gotta wait for Kiyotaka to get here, 'nd we'll go home." He said before throwing his head back and biting his lip harshly, blinking back his tears.

Your side was throbbing, every other wound on your body was stinging. You looked sickly and if anybody saw you they'd assume you were a zombie. You and Satoru both knew that you couldn't live through this. "'Toru—" You began, a small hiccup erupting from your throat. "I love you, y'know that, right?" You uttered, licking your lips out of habit.

"I love you too," He admitted back, his cerulean eyes glossed over. "You're not allowed to die on me, Y/N." He frowned, his voice shaking and cracking every few words.

"I have one last request before I go–" You started, biting your lip when Satoru cut you off, "You're not leaving, don't say that!" He harshly said, his grip on your body tightening. "I'm weak, Satoru." You admit as you reach up to cup his face. He's not wearing those stupid glasses. You thought as you caressed his face gently, a smile appearing on your tear stained, battered face.

"Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are, 'Toru?" You say, not failing to catch him off guard even in your last moments. He gives you a nod as he takes one of his hands and places it over your own. "Can you kiss me on the forehead? Like you always do?" You question as you blink away a few tears.

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips staying for a few moments, before hugging your body closer to him and tucking your head under his own. "Maybe in another life, I can be what you always wanted.." You mutter before closing your eyes. He could feel your body still, and finally let a couple tears run down his face.

It was never meant to be.

#( 📝 aajxs — written works . )#jjk satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo x reader #satoru gojo angst #angst

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yunjinified · 4 months

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Wonwoo fic recs

✿=personal favourites

note: this list will constantly be updated. In all of these fics the reader is either gender neutral or female.

Good To Me by @moonhoures series warnings and genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff, shower sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, pet names, multiple orgasms. word count: 1 300

9:03PM by @moonhoures series warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, finger sucking. word count: N/A

✿Bloodily Safe by @starlightxsvt series warnings and genre: psychological thriller, camgirl!au, college!au, smut, toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder. word count: 18 500

✿Game On! (bloodily safe 2) by @starlightxsvt series warnings and genre: psycho!Wonwoo, ghost face kink, scream movie references, sir kink, degradation, choking, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex, breast play, knife play (no cutting or marking), implications of violence, blood. word count: 6 000

Work Husband by @bitchlessdino series warnings and genre: office!au, smut, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names. word count: 3 900

✿Twisted Fate by @smileysuh series warnings and genre: murder, blood, vampire!wonwoo, yandere subthemes, kidnapping, biting, blood play, throat grabbing, manhandling, begging, praise, dirty talk, mean dom!wonwoo, multiple orgasms, finger-licking, chocking, unprotected sex, size kink, gentle spanking, dumbification, hair-pulling. word count: 14 300

Mine by @gyupinkys series warnings and genre: Degradation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) , gunshots, pet names, breeding, edging. word count: 1 500

Getting closer by @multi-kpop-fanfics series warnings and genre: Joker!Wonwoo x Chief Inspector!reader, angst, smut, horror, minor fluff, blood, mentions of weapons, minor injuries, cursing, hatefucking, marking, hair pulling, choking, face-slapping, major character death, slight yandere behaviour, mentions of mental illness and insomnia. word count: 6 100

✿Red lights by @multi-kpop-fanfics series warnings and genre: smut, angst, fingering, overstimulation, marking, unprotected sex, choking, possessive and jealous Wonwoo , cursing, toxic relationship. word count: N/A

Good to Me by @multi-kpop-fanfics series warnings and genre: fluff, smut, a bit of comedy, sexual tension, soft dom!Wonwoo, use of restraints, dirty talk, praise, oral sex (f receiving), edging, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare. word count: 5 000

horror game by @myung-heee series warnings and genre: fluff, smut, pet names, oral (f receiving), face sitting, crying, protected sex. word count: 2 500

✿rich girl by @blushnote series warnings and genre: smut, blowjob, face fucking, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, shower sex, pet names. word count: 6 708

6:30pm by @cheolhub series warnings and genre: unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, degradation, hard dom!wonwoo. word count: 755

off limits by @hinaaspanda series warnings and genre: brother's best friend!Wonwoo, swearing, crack, smut, fingering, protected sex, dirty talk, praising. word count: 9 907

✿Cat and mouse by @wonusite series warnings and genre: bad boy!au, smut, descriptions of minor injuries, mutual pining, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, mating press, aftercare. word count: 5 600

Your games suck by @onlymingyus series warnings and genre: smut, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, pet names. word count: 2 700

distraction by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast series warnings and genre: established relationship, pwp, Dom! Wonwoo, Sub! Reader, dirty talk, breast spanking (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), praise kink (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving). word count: N/A

✿The bore next door by @ncteez series warnings and genre: dom!wonwoo, bratty/sub!reader, face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting, dirty talk, protected sex, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling. word count: 8 800

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo angst #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fic rec #jeon wonwoo angst #jeon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo fics

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plutogist · 6 months

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HANG OUT WITH THEM

i. part two: hang out with these characters (part one)

ii. gender neutral. reader | unedited version (lmk if I used any gendered terms!)

iii. cw: spoilers in manga (chrollo's part), mentions of death, massacre/slaughter, torture, trauma, and violence. stealing, fluff & semi-angst (?)

iv. characters: gon freecs, killua zoldyck, kurapika kurta, chrollo lucilfer, feitan portor.

GON FREECS

You hang out with the boy a lot as the two of you develop a rapport with one another and grow closer. The two of you would often be perched on top of a tree branch as he casts his fishing line into the middle of a swamp. He would ask you questions about your past, how you lived in YorkNew City, and even about yourself constantly while he was fishing.

Talking to Gon is comforting, although he is extremely enthusiastic. You might find yourself baffled as to how he appears to be fulfilled while not harboring any unwelcome feelings or thoughts. But naturally, that wasn't the only thing. He would take you around the town's outskirts. And to pass the time if you were in his place, you two would play a variety of board games.

KILLUA ZOLDYCK

When Gon wasn't allowed to practice Nen for two months because of his injudicious decision of fighting Gido, you and Killua trained together without Nen because Killua don't want Gon to be left behind. Since neither of you was particularly talkative throughout your training session-unlike Gon, who frequently emits a lot of commotion when the three of you are together-it was really awkward and silent.

You're just reluctant to approach him because you two weren't really close. But even so, he would give you advice on how to grow more powerful and tell you about what you should concentrate on. As an outcome, the more you two trained together over the course of the two months, the closer you two grew.

The two of you are hardly alone together unless it involves training, combat, etc. The three of you traveled to Whale Island after leaving Heaven's Arena to meet Mito Freecs, Gon's aunt, and Abe, his great-grandmother. They were quite friendly to you, and his great-grandmother told you and Killua plenty of stories about Gon. Gon once left the two of you because his aunt asked him to go get some supplies she needed to prepare later.

You offered your assistance to Aunt Mito with the laundry. Killua was watching you as you washed the clothes since he isn't really sure how he can help you or do things like that. He would speak about his experiences and escapades as an experienced assassin, a member of the notorious Zoldyck family, and the future heir to the family to keep you entertained. However, it wasn't all that entertaining to hear about how he was actually tortured as a baby.

You also shared your stories with him when you were younger. Being from your typical family, you didn't find it particularly interesting. To your surprise, Killua laughed and thought you were humorous when you were younger because of both your foolishness and your intrepid nature. You attempted tossing him your left slippers, but he deftly sidestepped it. Indeed, the day was enjoyable.

KURAPIKA KURTA

(Prior to the massacre of the Kurta Clan)

He would come and see you in your leisure time and encourage you to read in the neighborhood library with him. You would undoubtedly concur that it is Kurapika after all. You two would sit side by side on the couch in the serene library, and before starting a new book, he would offer that you execute an exchange. For instance, he may recommend a book to you and vice versa.

The majority of the novels he read are far more serious than you may think. He always recommends history or biographies of philosophers who lived a century ago, as well as crime, mystery, and science fiction, works. Despite how much you like it, you feel a little ashamed about the works you're recommending to him since they seem so plain to him. [Unless you have the same taste w/ him]

Most of your hangouts are just solitude and calm, but you like that tranquility. Along with Pairo, the three of you are going to stay in the forest as you three would for an adventurous hangout. You would capture fish or other creatures that are suitable for human consumption.

(After the massacre of the Kurta Clan)

You feel much closer to your childhood friend now that you've seen him again. He lost his positive outlook since, as you are aware, criminals killed the members of his clan. If you were in his position, you wouldn't have any optimism at all. Therefore, you are always at his side to lessen his sense of isolation and provide him with emotional support. A conversation with him may be quite intense and passionate. He would often speak to you late at night about his unsaid emotions, his grief, his trauma, his enmity, and the survivor's guilt.

He's still a huge book nerd, so you two would borrow books from the local library and read them together while relaxing in the calm setting. You are just brought back to the past by it.

CHROLLO LUCILFER

(When you were still living in Meteor City)

Chrollo introduced you to Father Lisores, the owner of the church that you saw. (First chapter) And now, you're affiliated with him because you look like you're on the verge of death and he pities you. In exchange for your assistance with his charitable endeavors and your assistance each time there is a mass for children and other Meteor City residents, he provides you with a place to live, food, and other requirements.

Furthermore, you got to know some of Chrollo's friends. They all treated you well, but Chrollo is the one you get along with the best. Despite the difficulties of his life, he is bursting with positive energy. He frequently stops by the church and enjoys bringing you unusual items.

Most of your time together would be spent in the church's rear chamber, where he would show you other items and instruct you in speaking Gelman. (In the universe of Hunter x Hunter, probably English). His discoveries and his astute thinking never fail to captivate you. He frequently blushes when you praise him, but in all honesty, he kind of craves it since he wants to impress you.

Chrollo requested you, Sarasa, and Pakunoda to voice dub a Mighty Sweepin' Power Cleaners VHS tape into your mother tongue so that the kids in Meteor City could watch and understand the episode. It gave you an immense thrill to voice-dub the role that was given to you, and it warmed your heart to see the children moved and enthralled.

(Phantom Troupe / After the slaughter of Kurta Clan)

After Sarasa's death, Phantom Troupe was established with the intention of exacting retribution. You presently hold the fourth rank and are a member of the Phantom Troupe, a group of malevolent thieves. You two don't spend much time together since Chrollo is so busy keeping up his leadership role, looking for items that can be of great use to the group, or if he wants to steal a particular item. In fact, it only happens once in a blue moon.

But you can't blame him after all. Though when all of you are gathered up for a meeting, he would give you pieces of jewelry, books, and others that you love, which you presumably think that he stole, it feels nice that he's thinking about you.

While waiting for the remainder of the members to arrive, you would speak with them about significant topics and share what you had learned from your mission. His responses to you are brief since he is still engaged with the book he is reading. You feel sort of sad about it but chose to not complain.

FEITAN PORTOR

While the troupe was in York New, he would pay you many visits at the gaming shop where you work, and would practically gaze at you as if you were a ghost or something - well, he's waiting for you to end your shift. You can't concentrate on your work due to his scary glances, and he physically stares at everyone that walks into the shop.

You would advise him to cease doing that after your shift, but he would act unaware even though he understood what you meant. You two would saunter through the Saloma Mall, only glancing at the merchandise in the storefront windows, not bothering to go inside because you're saving up your money.

But there was a time when you spotted a bracelet that piqued your curiosity, but it was so pricey that your wage wasn't sufficient to pay for it. Feitan was aware of this but remained silent. After dropping you off at your flat, he goes to the shop where you spotted the bracelet you like and snatches it violently.

He handed you the bracelet the next day. Unaware that he had stolen it, you were perplexed by how he was able to purchase it. When you questioned about how he was able to afford it, he just said that they were confidential.

Feitan isn't a particularly chatty person, and neither are you, but whenever he comes to see you while you're at work, you strike up a conversation with him, and honestly, talking to him is much more comfortable than talking to other people because he's direct and doesn't sugarcoat his words, which is what you like best.

He just listens to your rambling while paying attention to what you're saying, but he obviously won't be overt about it. The two of you would play video games in your flat after your shift. Because he has a strong sense of competition, he usually defeats you. He constantly invited Phinks and Shalnark as well.

#hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #gon x reader #killua x reader #chrollo x reader #kurapika x reader #headcanons #feitan x reader #reader insert

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amerricanartwork · 2 days

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RW Headcanon: "Pebbsie Privilege"

Here’s a headcanon I’ve had in the works for a while, and now I finally want to share it! It's shorter than some of my others, but I hope you'll still find it amusing!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So firstly (and I plan to expand on this more later) I headcanon Five Pebbles is someone who cares a lot about his appearance, though not in a prissy or snooty sense and more in a “likes being the smartest and most sophisticated one in the room” sense. That means, more so than the average person, he generally doesn’t like being teased, ignored, belittled, condescended to, or otherwise disrespected, and very understandably so if you ask me! But it also means there exists a very special ability when it comes to interacting with Five Pebbles that almost no characters have.

It’s no more than the ability of someone to refer to Five Pebbles as “Pebbsie” while he’s in earshot without getting death-glares from him. Looks to the Moon, who first started using it, affectionately calls this ability “Pebbsie privilege”, and she ends up being one of the only characters who has it (besides Innocence, who in my portrayals eventually gets it too). Though even so, Pebbles originally got rather flustered when she called him that alone, much less in front of others, considering it's definitely a very cutesy nickname. In fact, poor Pebbles really didn’t like being called “Pebbsie” because one of his least favorite ways of being treated is like a child (which includes being thought of as "cute" in any way). This unfortunately happens to him a lot though since he’s part of the newest iterator generation and tends to have lots of uncommon ideas rarely taken seriously by the older models, and this treatment only amplified as he grew more stubborn and arrogant.

To elaborate on the origin, Moon developed the nickname pretty much on an impulse — quite a rare thing for her to act on actually — of wanting to hearken more to her role as “Big Sis Moon” and show love to her little brother. Soon after she started using it though Pebbles would pull her into private chats and urge her to drop it to save his dignity. Not wanting to hurt her brother in any way, it didn’t take long before she apologized and stopped using it, and basically got her "Pebbsie privilege" revoked. In the current time she secretly still likes calling him that in her mind, but knowing how much he dislikes it she always feels pretty guilty afterwards, despite them being no more than thoughts at that point. While not a major issue in-and-of itself, this situation was actually a small step in worsening a long-time fear Moon has, though that’s a headcanon for another day…

On a (marginally) more positive note however, after Moon’s collapse and the worsening of Five Pebbles’s rot, along with him generally reminiscing about the things he used to have (as part of yet more character headcanons I’ll elaborate on some other time), he actually began to grow fond of the nickname more and more. Yet he also couldn’t also shake the growing heartache the memories brang, as he came to see it as a reminder of his sister’s never-ending love for him and the better times he now regretted taking for granted and trying so hard to escape. While I headcanon he handles it differently in Downpour’s canon, in the worm-off-the-string AU story I’ve got so far, Moon slowly regaining her “Pebbsie privilege” and Pebbles appreciating it and no longer taking it so seriously (though he still forbids its usage in public) could serve as a small, yet sweet indicator of character growth for both of them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Aaaand another RW headcanon done! I wanna mention, though, now that I’ve got more of an idea for the aforementioned AU I really want to start posting more of my headcanons for the Local Group, since the character interactions, histories, and ultimate character growth is perhaps one of the most important elements of that story so far. I’ve spent at least a couple weeks creating almost 40 pages worth of character notes, and while this particular one started out as just a little side-headcanon, I ended up tying it into all of that. Hopefully I can start sharing the main parts of these headcanons soon!

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butterfliesandblueeyes · 16 days

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WORTH IT

🏏 Pregnant with Daryl's baby when Negan and the Saviours capture your family. You'll do everything you can to protect your partner and unborn child.

pairings : Daryl Dixon x reader

w/c : 2.5k

warnings : mentions of blood, major character deaths (rip Abraham & Glenn xo)

a/n : This is my first story I've written for Daryl, hopefully more to come. As always enjoy reading and thank you for the support!

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The lights of the various trucks and cars shone bright upon your group. Seated on your knees between Daryl and Michonne. Heavy breaths left your bitten lips and Daryl placed his hand on your swollen belly to help calm you down. You were around 6 months pregnant with his baby.

You turned your head to the side to stare into his cerulean eyes. A ghost of a smile played on his lips and you returned one of your own. His skin was a pale colour which resulted from the blood loss of being shot. He mouthed that it was going to be okay and you nodded in return.

A man with a moustache took a few steps forward, your group's eyes landing on him.”Let’s meet the man,” he announced before walking towards a van and knocking on the door. A few seconds later a man walked out. He was wearing a black leather jacket with a red scarf and a baseball bat was resting on his shoulder. If you squinted you could see something wrapped around the thick part of the bat. You placed your hand on top of Daryls’ that still rested on your belly.

“Pissing our pants yet?” the man asked yet it was rhetorical. “Boy do I have a feeling we’re getting close. It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon,”. The man sauntered to the middle of your group. “Now which one of you pricks is the leader?” he asked.

“This one” the moustache man said as he gestured to Rick. Your breathing picked up again, afraid of what this man wanted with Rick and with your group. Daryl began rubbing small circles around your belly. If he wasn’t here with you, you’d be a blubbering mess.

“Hi. You’re Rick right?” The man said as he knelt in front of Rick. A few seconds passed and Rick didn’t respond so the man spoke again, he introduced himself as Negan and his group was the Saviors. He wasn’t too happy since your group had killed some of his men. You tuned out a while after that. He and Rick went back and forth but all you could think about was your baby and Daryl. You didn’t want your family to be taken away before you got around to becoming one.

Daryl hunched further over and you took a firm grip of his arm so he wouldn't completely fall over. You didn’t dare speak to him no matter how bad you wanted to. You were fearful of this man and you had no idea what he was capable of.

“Give me your shit or I will kill you,” the man announced. The booming of his voice took you by surprise since you weren't completely listening to what he was saying earlier. The man blabbered on some more about the new world order until something he said caught your attention.

“So now,” he paused. “I’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.” A quiet gasp left your mouth and your eyes found Daryls’ again. Negan swung his bat around in an attempt to show it off. “This is Lucille and she is awesome,” he announced. “All this,” he gestured to your group and the Saviors as he spoke. “All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor,”.

Negan began strutting towards the opposite side of the semi-circle. He paused when he was in front of Carl. “Shit kid, lighten up. At least cry a little.”. He chuckled as he walked further up the line, now stopping in front of Maggie who was also pregnant but experiencing some complications. “Jesus, you look shitty” he commented as he took in the state she was in. “I should just put you out of your misery,” he added. Glenn was quick to his feet, running to Maggies’ aid when he was stopped by a blow to his stomach. He fell to the ground groaning.

“Nope, get him back in line,” Negan demanded. Glenn was dragged back to his spot. “All right, listen,” Negan spoke while pacing back and forth. “Don’t any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down,” the man swung his bat around again and you flinched. Daryl noticed and you could feel him staring at your side profile. You didn’t dare look in fear of drawing attention to him.

He continued down the line and you snapped your eyes shut when he stopped in front of you. “What do we have here?” he snickered. Your eyes opened at the sound of his voice. He was gesturing towards your belly with Daryls’ hand placed firmly on top. You looked up at the man. He had a shit eating grin plastered on his face and suddenly you felt like you couldn't breathe.

But he turned around and stalked back towards the center of the group. He gave a low whistle. “I simply cannot decide,”. He was acting like he enjoyed this. He chuckled before he spoke again. “I got an idea,”. He walked back towards the opposite side of the circle.

He pointed the bat at Eugene. “Eenie,”. Next was Carl. “Meenie,”. Then Aaron. “Miney,”. Sasha. “Mo,”. Rick. “Catch,”. Maggie. “A tiger,”. Abraham. “By,”. Michonne. “His toe,”. You. “If,”. He paused on you, giving you a once over before moving on to Daryl. “He hollars,”. Rosita. “Let him go,”. Then finally Glenn. “My mother,”. He stalked back over to the start of the line and pointed the bat at Eugene once again. “Told me to pick the very best one and you are..”. The bat landed on Abraham. “It,”.

The bat was in front of Abrahams’ face as Negan began to speak again. “Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boys’ other eye out and feed it to his father and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry.” Negan inhaled. “Hell, you’re all going to be doing that.”

The sound of the first crack of the bat was piercing. There were screams and cries around you but all you could do was remain silent as tears rolled down your reddened cheeks. You felt paralyzed.

“Ho ho,” Negan laughed. “Look at that, taking it like a champ,”. You dared a peak at Abraham, blood was pouring down his face. Daryl locked his fingers with yours. “Don’t look Y/N,” he pleaded. You looked down at your lap, your free hand resting on your stomach.

“Suck my nuts,” Abraham stuttered out before the bat came down onto Abrahams’ head again and again and again. Until everything went silent.

Negan chuckled again. He turned towards his men. “Did you hear that? He said suck my nuts,”. His men erupted into laughter. Negan swished his bat around, blood splattering on the ground, on Ricks’ face and on your baby bump. Your mouth agape, you stared down at the crimson liquid that started to soak into your lilac tank top and onto your bare skin. “Oh my goodness, look at this!” Negan shouted happily. “You guys look at my dirty girl,”. He tsked.

He stalked towards Rosita, placing the bat in front of her face. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight but quickly lowered her eyes. “Sweetheart,” he began, “Lay your eyes on this,”. Rositas’ eyes didn’t budge from where they had settled on. Negan was growing agitated. “Oh damn. Were you together?” Negan asked but Rosita still didn’t budge. “That sucks,” he added. “But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red and hell, he was, is and always will be red,” he spoke emphasizing on the ‘red’. ”He just took one or six or seven for the team! So take a damn look,”. He thrusted the bat in Rositas’ face.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Daryl shifting on his knees, preparing to get up. Panic rose in your chest and your mouth moved before you could stop it “leave her,”. Your voice was meek and you weren't sure he heard you until his footsteps grew closer to you. You looked up just as he squatted in front of you. Your eyes made contact and a wicked smile grew on Negans’ face. “Well hello there,” he spoke, his voice a lot softer than before.

You gulped and felt Daryls’ hand on your stomach again. Negans’ eyes followed the movement of Daryls’ hand and he scoffed. “Don’t tell me this piece of shit is the father. He’ll ruin that baby,”. Before you could even register Negans’ words, Daryl was up and already punching him in the face. “No,” you yelled as a few men grabbed Daryl and dragged him to the floor. You went to get up but Michonne grabbed your arm, keeping you in place.

Daryl was laying on the ground with a mans’ arm around his neck. He was grunting and breathing heavily. His eyes locked on you while a man named Dwight held Daryls’ crossbow to his own head. “Do you want me to do it? Right here,” Dwight asked Negan. Negan looked up at you as he grabbed a handful of Daryls hair and pulled his head back slightly. Daryl hissed in pain. “No. No you don't kill them, not until you try,” he answered.

“Please let him go,” you whimpered. Negans’ grip on Daryl released and he sauntered over to you, kneeling once again. Daryl was thrashing and kicking on the ground, trying to get out of the Saviors’ grip but they didn’t budge. Your eyes drifted back to your bump once again. You were afraid to look at this man. He had just killed your friend with no remorse. Now he had your love pinned to the ground, his fate falling into Negans’ hands. All your fates in Negans’ filthy hands.

Negans’ grimy, gloved fingers gripped your chin tightly and angled your face so your eyes fell on him once again. His thumb gently caressed your cheek and it sent goosebumps down your spine. Not the good kind either. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he stated. You swore you could see a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “You really think he’s worth it?” he asked you. Your eyes hardened and you answered back with no hesitation “yes,”. He shook his head at your answer. “You’re stupider than you look,” he announced. “You can come back with me, be one of my wives and raise the baby in a safe environment, Together,” Negan suggested. Your response was to spit in his face. He closed his eyes while wiping his face.

He stood up and took one more look at you “sweetheart that was a bad idea,”. He motioned for his men to drag Daryl back in line. When he was next to you again you grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, placing a gentle kiss to his palm.

“Now I already told you people, first ones free then what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down!”. Negans’ booming voice made you curl into yourself, shielding your stomach since you didn't know what was to come. “No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important, I need you to know me,” he stood right in front of you as his speech spilled from his lips. “And sweetheart,”. You looked up at him. “Your actions have consequences, so back to it,”. The bat was raised above his head and your eyes squeezed shut as you waited for it to make contact with your head but it never came. Instead the bat came down onto Glenns’ head.

The scream that escaped from your throat hurt. Glenn was your first friend since the apocalypse. You two spent endless hours chatting. He knew everything about you and vice versa. He was your best friend.

Glenns’ last words were for Maggie. You hid your head in Daryls’ good shoulder as sobs racked through your body. Your group was paralysed as Rick was whisked away to the van with Negan. It felt like hours before they came back out. Negan was trying to get Rick to surrender and conform so he had Carl lay on the ground waiting for Rick to chop his arm off. Rick pleaded and begged and Negan told Rick he belonged to him. We all belonged to him.

“Today was a productive damn day,” Negan announced. “Now, I hope for your sake that you get it now, that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going on that is over now,”. Negan paused his movement. “Ah, Dwight load him up,”. Your eyes snapped to Negan then to daryl. “No! No,” you yelled, grabbing onto Daryl as Dwight pulled him off the ground. You were pulled to your feet as well, your fingers locked with Daryls’ and neither of you letting go.

“Don’t take him! Please,” you begged. You felt arms snake around your waist and roughly separate your hand from Daryls’. He was dragged off to a van and roughly shoved in the back, the doors slamming shut when he was inside. You clawed at the hands around your waist. You were thrown to the ground. The wind was knocked out of you and you gasped for air. You felt a hand grip your hair and force your head back. Negans’ mouth was in line with your ear when he spoke “If you want to try something, today, tomorrow I will cut pieces off,” he paused and looked around. “Hell’s his name?” he asked. Someone responded with Daryl and Negan was in line with your ear again. “Daryl,” he whispered, to which you responded with a whimper. “I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep or better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me,” he threatened. He placed a kiss to your hair, lingering for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’ll be seeing you,” he promised as he released the grip of your hair and stood up. You remained on the ground.

“I’ll leave you sorry shits a truck, use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me, until then ta ta,”. You rested your forehead on the gravel as all the various trucks started their engines and drove away.

The tears started to fall not long after that, sob after sob fell from your lips. You felt hands on your back, picking you up so you sat on the gravel. The arms wrapped around you and pulled you into them, comforting you. You cried and cried. Cried for Abraham. Cried for Glenn. Cried for Daryl. You cried for your life and your unborn child's life. You wondered if you would ever see Daryl again. If your baby would ever know their dad. No, you knew you would see him again. You knew he would be here for your babys’ life. You knew it. You'd make sure of it. Because Daryl was worth it.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader

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darling--angst-archived · 9 months

Note

hmm I hope I did this right :'D

- Where's My love, SYML w/ Dazai :o + romantic !

Where's My Love?

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x Gn! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Angst

Warnings: major character death, implied suicide, blood descriptions, mentions of death, cutting, implied death.

Synopsis: Dazai always tries to find his lover and when he sees them, he only says a 'hello' but never did he say his goodbye.

A/n: Thank you for requesting! Reader is refered to as 'them' or 'they'. Hope you'll like this! Dw you did it correct! Italic for flashbacks

Event // Ada.Masterlist // M.Masterlist

There was nothing he could feel, he held the cold and lifeless corpse of his lover; just as he did to his dear friend a few days ago. Cold pulse, it was the only thing he could find; coldness, just as who he was before he met them. How hard he tried to find the love they once held in their eyes. He didn't mind his bleeding hand, he could only focus on holding them. His bloodied hand was mostly theirs and a small mix of his. The tears that dripped to his scarred hand made it sting; just like a wound topped with salt. He tried to make their heart beat once again but it was hopeless, they only held him dearly—as if they were fine and smiled before their eyes completely shut; never to open again. He screamed their name at the top of his lungs before he slowly laid their body on the floor, just like they were resting. He walked away, numb tears escaping his hazel eyes. The room was illuminated by the warm sun they once loved, and the crimson blood was oozing out of the three bullet holes on their chest. He tightly clenched his hand, not minding how much it hurt from the wound. The rain started to pour while the bright and orange sunset was covered with dark, thundering storms. He walked away, turning his back on everything, the Port Mafia, Chūya, his crimes, Oda and you.

"Dazai-san? Are you there? Kunikida-san called me and told me to go to work with you." Atsushi knocked on a small apartment room owned by the Agency.

Dazai sat up and looks at his hand again. It was clean, no blood was leaving his body through a wound that once was. A mark was left there, a memoir that the day he got that wound was the one where he failed to save you.

"That dream again.."

A few tears escapes his eyes and landed itself on his hand, just as that day. He wiped them away after hearing Atsushi knock on the door again.

"Yeah I'm here Atsushi-kun!" He said through the door, trying to sound as cheerful as possible though his voice came out dry and hoarse.

"Are you okay Dazai-san? Are you sick?!" Atsushi asks, his tone full of worry and franty.

"Nop! I just woke up so please wait for me in a few minutes Atsushi-kun!" He said in his usual cheery tone making Atsushi sigh in relief. Dazai's words soon registered in his mind, and he began to panic.

"But Kunikida-san will scold both of us for being late!"

"It's fineee! Its just going to be the same old Kunikida!" He tried explaining while ramaging through his drawer, trying to find his bandages.

"But—"

"I'm gonna be quick Atsushi-kun, I'm just going to dress! You don't want me to go to the agency shirtless do you?" He said in a spiteful voice, wrapping his arms, hands, neck and torso with leftover bandages.

"eww no!"

"exactly" Dazai replied before wearing his shirt and vest. He glances at the scar again before opening the door and throwing in his overcoat.

"Let's go Atsushi-kun!"

He skipped to the agency with Atsushi behind him. They got scolded by Kunikida but it the end he was the one that took his hour long lecture and Dazai got punished by him.

The day passed again, and the moon showed in the midnight sky. Dazai was laying in his futon, staring at the dark ceiling, bottles of sake throws across the floor. He turned his head beside and saw them, a worried look was plastered on their face as they looked at him. He knew that his mind was playing games with him, despite that he came to caress their cheek to feel their warmth; but they disappeared, and his hand only met the cold and empty sheets beside. He clenched his fists tight before standing up and grabbing his overcoat and leaving his messy apartment. Walking in the dark streets lighted by the faint moonlight, was something both of them used to do. He gently smiled at the small memory before continuing to walk, he arrived at a small greeny fields in the outskirts of the city.

"Darling! Osamu! Wait up!" They said before panting.

"You really need to run faster my love!" He turned around and saw them with furrowed eyebrows. He chuckled before going to them.

"You're so unfair! I'm on my slippers because you called me and told me it was an emergency!" They pouted, taking his assistance and grabbing his hand for support.

"It is an emergency! I was bored and I missed you!" He pointed out.

"Haii.. whatever.. Don't you dare try to lie to me" They sighed shooting him a worried look before caressing his bruised cheek, and he leaned on her hand.

"What do you mean love?" He sent them a cheeky smile, trying to feign innocence and ignorance.

"Osamu." They said his name in a serious tone, and he only laid his head down.

"I-its nothing" He quietly muttered, getting closer to them, trying to feel their warmth.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here" The hand cupping his cheeks snaked it's way to the back of his head, as he leaned his head into their shoulder.

Their hand slowly and gently patted the back of his head while he hugged them. The silent crickets are the only thing that was heard. He felt scared, he didn't want them to know his line of job in fear that they would leave him. They were a civilian and he was a mafioso—no an executive of the Port Mafia, the rulers of the night. He needed comfort, he wanted to tell them how his friend betrayed them and now the other was dead; but he couldn't, he was afraid of them abandoning him too. Nobody spoke a word, they didn't bother to ask him more, they just waited for him to open up. They gently hummed a tune as they waited for him, their voice was like a lullaby that comforted a scared and crying child.

The event plays on his mind, seeing illusions of that day in the fields, he could not remember what happened afterwards. He put his hands on the pockets of his overcoat as his fingertips got colder and colder. Walking to a small cliff near the ocean, a name was carved in a rock just near the edge, beside it, was a fresh bouquet of roses. He leaned against the grave as he closed his eyes, reminiscing the old memories.

"Hello love... I missed you" He gently smiled, feeling the cold breeze pass.

A faint voice whispered comfort in his ear.

"I missed you too.. tell me.. is that little girl, the one you told me about—Kyoka, I think—is she okay?"

He felt his hair ruffle, as if someone was playing it just like they did. He wanted to open his eyes to know who it was, but he knew that they would disappear just as he looks behind. He knew that he was just thinking how they would respond but he didn't mind it.

"Mhm.. the conflict was over and the Moby Dick returned to the ocean... Kyoka's now home with the agency" He whispered, trying to feel their warm.

"That's good.. How is the agency treating you.?"

"hmm.. Atsushi-kun is as usually kind.—" he faintly smiled.

"—oh, Kunikida tied me to a chair earlier and beat me up because I was late, it hurt a lot. Ouch" He dramatically whispered and they faintly laughed in return. Silence once again came, the howling winds and the clashing waves are the only things that can be hear besides his lone heartbeat.

"Come back to me please.." His voice cracked. He heard no response, he opened his eyes and looked behind to see nothing but a view of the night sky and the dancing leaves. A part of the cloudy sky was clear, showing the moon perfectly, as if it made way for someone to go high above.

"I'll go to you soon love.. and if the heavens forbid it... I'll fight against God myself just to return to your embrace" He sat up and glanced at the grave once again before finally returning to his apartment.

He closed his door and muttered a small "I'm home" hoping for someone to respond. Taking off his shoes and overcoat, he took a blade from his bathroom drawer, and then made himself comfortable in the bathtub. He rolled up his sleeves and sat up, positioning the blade just perfectly on the veins in his wrist. With one quick and deep slash, blood started gushing out of his left wrist. He winced in pain, taking the blade once again, he slashed his right wrist; it was less deep than the cut in his other wrist but nonetheless, it was deep. Blood started to drip to his garments and bathtub, his vision started to blur and he leaned completely to the wall, closing his eyes. At the last moments of his life, he remembered what happened after that day.

"Hey... If you don't want to tell me it's okay, but don't ever try to hide your emotions from me.." They smiled at him, their fingers playing with his hair.

"What do you mean? I don't hide them—" He left their embrace and tried to put on a facade.

"Osamu. You don't need to hide them" They said, walking upfront, their voice was full of calmness, just like a lullaby. Their arms was behind them, their right hand holding their left arm

"Fine... But let me ask you this then." He looked at their back with a serious tone.

"Why did you come in the middle of the night to a cliff just because I told you to do so?" He asked, his gaze following them as they walked forward to the edge, admiring the moon. They continued to hum before they responded to his question.

"Because I love you" They turned around and smiled at him. They put a strand of hair behind their ear, as the wind passed by.

"mmm.." He opened his eyes to see their illusion planting a kiss on his forehead.

"I..finally..found..you...." His voice slowly faded into nothing but air.

It was as if time stopped for a mere second. The pain that engulfed him whole was now only faint. Their warmness returned to him and his vision completely faded to black, submitting to the sleepiness he held after hearing them hum his favorite tune...

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wangxianficfinder · 1 month

Text

In the mood for...

March 19th

~*~

1. itmf

a) nhs and wwx friendship PLEASE, preferably with the same vibes as seen in crazy rich cultivators by shanaatoryteller (he called wwx by affectionate nicknames and was ready to throw down with lwj for him at the minor perceived slight), i just need nhs genuinely loving wwx in a non-shippy way

b) wwx support system! him having people who love and will help him in any way they can! him not having to shoulder so many burdens alone!

1A)

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS finds WWX post-Untamed canon & helps him

🔒 like mayflies wandering series by RoseThorne (E, 21k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-Wangxian, Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative NHS, Memories, WWX Needs a Hug, Pining WWX, Friendship, NHS Is A Little Shit, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Triggers, Fainting, Anal Sex, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Grief/Mourning)

1B)

拨云见日 by RoseThorne (G, 1k, WangXian,. Post-Canon, Justice, Anger, Sect Leader Yáo Bashing, Cultivation Discussion Conferences, Restitution, Self-Indulgent, POV Third Person, POV WWX)

~*~

2. I wish to know what fics you're especially excited to read next from your TBR!

Something at the Door by Pip (Moirail) (E, 50k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivation, background 3zun, Background Yi City trio, Intrusive Thoughts, Horror, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mystery, Urban Fantasy) this one got recced by a friend on discord and it looked soooo interesting but time is not on my side

the past drifts away with the waves by thelastdboy (E, 52k, wangxian, WWX & Wen remnants, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, WIP, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, major characger undeath, YZY being an asshole, implied/referenced child abuse, minor character death, major character injury, amputation, loss of limbs, transformation, merpeople, fierce corpse WWX, kind of, merperson WWX, resentful creature WWX, undead WWX, riverspirit WWX, it gets worse before it gets better, heavy angst w happy ending, no sunshot, hurt/comfort, politics, not cultivation world friendly, slow burn, getting together, revenge, demonic cultivation, WWX pov, dark WWX, monsterfucker LWJ, wen remnants live, sect leader WQ)

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3. Hey, I was wondering if there are any fics, after the whole story, where Wangxian's relationship with JC is extensive /repaired? @mihashi-kun

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

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4. Heellloooo <3 for the next itmf im looking for fics where wwx is lwj’s favorite person/best friend (apart from also being a couple/in love) like lwj seeking wwx out and looking for him, wanting to spend time with him, being shamelessly friends with him, and everybody knows that they’re a package deal

I Wish You Would by brooklinegirl (E, 51k, wangxian, LWJ FUCKS, jerking off, so much jerking off, wangxian/others, but OTP endgame, "straight" boy WWX, Modern Setting) is a friends-to-lovers with a nice friendship at its core. Focus is definitely on their path into a sexual relationship, though, it's not just about being friends, in case that isn't what you're looking for.

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5. Please give me some serious self harming fics. Real angst. I don't care if people think me cringe or weird for wanting therapy and comfort from a fanfiction, but I've been feeling self destructive lately and the deeper and deeper cuts on my arms are a testament to it. I cannot ground myself. I've been too alone and lonely lately. I love reading. Please give me some ground to sit down for a while

Twin Demons of Mò by XiaoFeiFei (M, 358k, MXY & WWX, WangXian, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, Abuse, Twin Demons of Mo, MXY Lives, Major Character Injury, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Angst, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Minor Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Torture, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Canon Divergence, Self-Harm, Found Family, Sexual Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, POV Alternating)

could also check the Heavy Angst comp, there's sure to be something there

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6. Hello I'm here for wwx protection squad dynamics. Like I want fics where wwx doesn't have to do anything, before he wants anything or before anyone could do to harm him or anything, there are people defending him and keeping him safe.

🧡 the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, [Podfic] the stone-filled sea by yukla by Beria1021, the stone-filled sea [Podfic] by BrickGrass)

💖Teen Project to Change the World animeloverhomura (Not rated, 810k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, scharacters watching the future, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery)

Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, wangxian, hualian, WIP, TGCF, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, characters watching their series, Time Travel Fix-it)

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7. Hello!!!!!!! Love all the hard work you put into this blog! I’m in the mood for fics featuring wangxian growing together, like fics with adorable kids wangxian and then awkward preteen wangxian and then finally growing into their skins young adult wangxian and all that

Thxxxxx

soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, WangXian, Childhood Friends, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, First Kiss, Wedding Fluff)

Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, wangxian, WWX & YZY, WWX & JFM, WWX & JYL, YZY/JFM, JC & WWX, LQR & WWX, LXC & JYL, Madam Jin & YZY, LQR & JFM, LXC & LWJ, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Crying, Music, Nosebleed, Fear, Recovery, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Flirting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Monsters, Sexual Tension, betrothal, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect, Kid Fic, Epistolary, Food, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death)

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8. Hello! ITMF blind!Wei Wuxian? Canon or modern. thank you!

🧡 close your eyes, feel my heartbeatby ThatDesiGirl (T, 11k, WangXian, blind!WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rewriting Canon, not a fix-it but a what-if, Golden Core Transfer) WWX is blind, but MXY isn't

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WIP, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Self-Indulgent, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant) link in #16

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9. hiiii hope you all are well!!! I'm itmf your favorite memory loss/amnesia fics pls! thank u and have a lovely day 🩷 @loveshinesbrightly

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

🧡 the river brought you here by chilianxianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family)

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10. hii! for imtf: anything with true loves kiss or something really sad (or both) (no omegaverse pls). thank you!!

🧡 Weep You No More, Sad Fountains by athena_crikey (T, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-it fic, Whump, Curses, Fever, Delirium, Stabbing, Loneliness, Confessions) It's only a small moment, but a curse is lifted with a kiss

what else is there? by mme_anxious (T, 13k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Swan Princess AU, Everybody Lives, who isn't already dead, Magic, Animal Transformation, Curses, Angst, Humor, Happy Ending, Kissing)

This Lantern Shines For You by apollonie (M, 10k, wangxian, Hanahaki Disease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, LWJ is a Disaster Gay)

with such a suffering, such a deadly life by cqlorphan (T, 7k, wangxian, post-canon, curses, curse breaking, getting together, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort, affection, touch-starved LWJ, LWJ whump, cuddling & snuggling, love confessions)

a safe pair of hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Body Worship, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Sharing a Bed, Getting Together, First Time, Curses, Intimacy, Touch-Starved, Touch-Starved LWJ)

Turn Left by kianspo (M, 204k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, eventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Neurodivergent LWJ, Slow Build, Lán Family Feels, specifically, Twin Jades of Lán Feels, lwj-centric, Twin Jades of Lán Dynamics, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Angst with Happy Ending) it's kind of true love's kiss adjacent?

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11. Hi! I was curious if there were any fics like, Seven Second to the End? Where basically Wei Wuxian sought out Lan Wangji as soon as he woke up in mxy body or there wasn’t the elaborate pretending to be mxy on wwx side?

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12. heyy hope you're doing good! do you know any fics that are similar to 'and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow'?

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13. Are there anymore fics like " heaven has no rage " by flipfloppandas ?

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14. Hi! For itmf does anyone know of any Yunmeng-bros fics where they have a good relationship and Wei Wuxian returns to Yunmeng Jiang after his resurrection? Thank you so much!

❤️ By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal)

The Twin Blades of Yunmeng by GhostySword, ofmindelans (T, 89k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, BAMF JC, protective LWJ, Golden Core Reveal, Swords and Feelings, WWX Resurrection, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Embedded Images, Sect Leader QS)

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15. ITMF cultivators having super senses? Like heightened eyesight, hearing, strength, etc. There is a sentinel/guide fic I really enjoyed, “Hyperprosexia” by malkinmalkout, that dealt with heightened senses and I would love more like that. Thank you so much!

Zhalyn series by meiqi (Silver_Shadow_09) (T, 16k, wangxian, WWX & WQ, LWJ & WQ, WWX & WN, WN & WWX & LWJ & WQ, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Golden Core, Golden Core Reveal, But not how you think, OP WWX, one self-sacrificial idiot and his two emotionally constipated best friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Location: Cloud Recesses, Location: Lotus Pier, Good Friend WQ, Doctor WQ, Good Friend LWJ, Case Fic, LanWenWei besties - now with two Wens, Self-Discovery, WQ is So Done, LWJ Has Friends, Cinnamon Roll WN, Good Friend WQ, Good Friend WN, Team as Family, Annoying WWX) wwx has even stronger senses than most cultivators in this

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16. Hello again! Thank you for your recs!

I was wondering if you could rec some fics with sentient burial mounds, like- them being protective of wwx, sort of treating him like- either as the master/chosen/hier of burial mounds or something? Or any story with ghosts/spirits being protective of wwx or treating him as a sort of leader or something? Just want some wwx & supernatural goodness lol.

Also, any fics with wwx being sort of like- strangely in tune with nature? And maybe people being freaked out by his connection to the nature or dead. Like - cryptid vibes wwx lol

Thank you!!!

in the blossom season (in the pouring rain) by varnes (M, 13k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, [Podfic of] in the blossom season (in the pouring rain) by exmanhater)

What Lies Beneath These Hallowed Woods by meekome (M, 10k, WIP, WangXian, Sentient Burial Mounds, of the cosmic horror variety, Eldritch WWX, Monster WWX, Body Horror, Eventual Happy Ending, after a lot of whump Fix-It, Canon Divergence, WWX's Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Hurt WWX, Blood and Injury, but he gets better I swear, Suicidal Thoughts, WWX Lacks Self-Preservation Instincts, Protective LWJ, BAMF WWX, YLLZ WWX, YLLZ LWJ, Sunshot Campaign, Communication, Married WangXian)

To Be Named by Suibian_613 (T, 39k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Out of Character, WQ is out of character, Everyone is probably ooc, canonical violence, Canonical Character Death, JYL lives, Somewhat Sentient Burial Mounds, WN and JC Rivalry, Sibling Rivalry)

Blood of the Black Earth by wirevix (M, 48k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Xuánwǔ of Slaughter Cave, Sunshot Campaign, Sad with a Happy Ending, Ghost WWX, Monster WWX, Canonical Character Death, Although not at the canonical time, Grief/Mourning, Good Sibling JC, Horror)

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17. Hello! I'm looking for fics with:-

A) rich wwx!! As in- he's like rich af, but people don't know it? Like he's very normal about it but doesn't advertise the fact that he could buy everything he wants. I'd also like if he's big on donating, or just helping people in general and stuff.

B) wwx doing dangerous stuff like volunteering in places with natural disasters/civil unrest, etc. Him being very into activism and stuff

C) jealous sizhui...like- he's jealous of wwx paying attention to other kids and stuff. Maybe something like- wwx thinks sizhui has lwj as father figure, doesn't remember him, or maybe he'll be bothered if wwx acts too familiar or something? So he keeps his distance. It could be a modern au too, or any fic where wwx adopts other kids/is a mentor figure to them/has close relationship with them and sizhui is jealous of that??

I appreciate you taking the time to do this!

17A)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks)

Sizhui's Smiles by RenaFair (T, 11k, wangxian, Possessive Behavior, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha LSZ, Mpreg, Minor Child Character Death, Read the summary between the lines) it has dark Sizhui jealous over wangxian's new baby

17C)

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

126 notes · View notes

kkami-writes · 7 months

Text

until the very end.

pairing. kim seungmin x gn!reader synopsis. At the end of the world, there’s truly no other group you’d rather be with than your friends. But as they drop dead, one by one, you can feel the threads of your sanity continue to snap and it’s only a matter of time before you actually go insane. Thankfully, Seungmin continues to be by your side until the very end of time. tags. zombie!au, apocalypse!au, ANGST, all hurt maybe a little bit of comfort

CW/TW. lots and LOTS of major character death, blood, gore, violence, guns, suicidal thoughts, suicide, vomit, murder, no explicit smut but implied/mentioned sex, dissociative moments, minsung + changlix if you squint, could be a "happy" ending, it really depends on how you see it tbh, kinda? graphic. please be warned ♡ word count. 8k A/N. please use your best judgement, if you do not think you can handle any of the warnings don't read! don't trigger yourself!! if you're that curious I'd be happy to give you the run down of the fic without the gory details. wanna support me? buy me a ko-fi!

It’s uncertain whether you’d consider yourself lucky that you had been tucked in bed, comfy and deep asleep, when shit had hit the fan. That was the last time you had the luxury to be asleep long enough to even have a dream. You don’t even remember what you had dreamed about as you dragged yourself out of bed, yawning and wiping away the drowsiness from your eyes.

In fact, you were certain you were still dreaming when you stumbled upon the gruesome sight in your kitchen. There was blood splattered against the once pristine white marble and your mother was hovering over what had once been your father, surrounded by a pool of what you assumed was his own blood. She was too busy devouring his guts to even notice you standing there, obscene slurping noises echoing in your ears.

The stench hits you like a truck and you’re suddenly losing whatever is even in your stomach after having just woken up, acid burning at your throat. The movement is enough to disturb your mother (can you really call her that anymore?) as she turns to you with a deep, inhuman growl, face covered in the blood of your father with bits of him still clinging to her mouth. You fall over backwards as she lunges at you, fight or flight instincts kicking in. You shove your foot against her chest as hard as you can, trying to push her away from you.

Frantically, you look around trying to find anything to use as a weapon, desperation starting to sink in. You grab onto the nearby lamp, holding onto it like a bat. It’s the only thing you had as you swing, smashing it into your mothers head and the crack that follows is sickening. The bulb shatters but you don’t stop, continuing to use the unconventional weapon until you’re certain the monster is dead. It’s like you black out for a few moments and by the time you’re back in your body, your mother is unmoving, head caved in. Your breath is heavy, panting and on the verge of hyperventilating. But you can’t focus on that right now.

You’re reminded by the zombie movies you used to watch with your friends as you force your body towards the kitchen to grab a knife. With a swing, you lodge it straight into it’s head. You won’t make the mistake of having it come back to life and catching you off guard.

A numbness takes over your body, brain going into autopilot as you finally notice the constant vibration of your phone in your pocket. The boys have been blowing up your notifications, hundreds of unread messages in your group chat, several individual messages and a couple of voice mails. You can only register that they were going to meet up at Bangchan’s house as he mentioned his father collected guns, a good place for them to start.

With your limbs feeling like lead, you begin packing a small backpack filled with essentials and a few pairs of clothes. Your body moves on its own as if trying to remind you that you have to keep going, that your friends are probably still alive and waiting for you. It’s the only semblance of hope you have and the only thing stopping you from just ending it right now.

You’re thankful Bangchan doesn’t live too far from your house, just a few blocks away. The neighborhood seems empty, a stark contrast to the usually lively streets. Silence rings in your ears, white noise filling the blank spaces in your mind. When you reach his house there are cars haphazardly parked in front.

You come through the door, feeling like a zombie yourself and honestly you might look like one too with the large splatter of your mothers blood splayed across the front of your white shirt. You might have forgotten to change in your haze of trying to get out of your house as fast as possible. This doesn’t stop Jeongin from throwing himself into your embrace once he finally sees you. He’s in tears, clutching onto you tightly, body trembling against you. Your own arms come to wrap around him, the emotional dam you had been holding onto finally breaks, the two of you falling to the ground sobbing. You’re surprised you had held on for as long as you did.

The other boys didn’t disturb you, letting the two of you to have a moment to bask in each other's presence, knowing the other was safe. Your relationship with Jeongin was strictly platonic. The boy meant the world to you, he was like your precious little brother and he had looked up to you as a bigger sibling. Now that the world had gone to all hell, you knew the two of you would end up being heavily reliant on each other.

You’re unsure how long the two of you just stayed in a heap on the floor but it’s Seungmin’s hand on your back that brings you back to the grim reality you were able to forget about for just a second. He’s looking down at you fondly but theres still a sense of sadness deep in his irises. “Come on you two, Bangchan is calling a group meeting,” He helps pull you up to your feet, giving you a quick squeeze in his arms. A silent message that he’s glad you’re safe.

Eight people gathered into the family room, half of them on the floor while the rest of them tried to squish in on the couch together. You take the seat next to Seungmin, letting your head rest on Jeongin’s shoulder.

When Bangchan walks into the room, he places a few guns and boxes of ammo onto the table. It makes a few of the boys turn pale just looking at the weapons.

“So. For now, I think it’s best if we stay here. There’s enough food to last us at least a couple of days and then you guys can move on. I’d suggest somewhere close to a convenient or grocery store. Best not to stay in one though in case other people show up,” He makes a lot of sense, being on the move was probably the best bet, but with your decently large group of friends it would be a disaster. It would be in your best interest if you guys stayed in one place until you ran out of resources. Only then should you move.

“Wait. You said ‘you guys can move’ and not ‘we’ can move. Was that on purpose?” Minho, the ever observant one had mentioned, giving Bangchan his usual blank stare. You had barely even noticed the slight change in wording.

“It was. I can’t go with you guys,”

“What? Why not??” At this all the guys were suddenly talking over each other, a frequent occurrence but one that was certainly not helpful at this moment. Bangchan, being the eldest, had always been someone everyone looked up to, someone they had gone to for guidance. He had been like a pseudo leader of the group, without him you’d worry everything would fall apart.

Bangchan lets out a sigh before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to show off the clear bite mark in his forearm, complete with teeth indentations and blood still dripping from the wound. The veins surrounding the bite were starting to turn black, slowly inching up his arm.

A few of them gasp while the others are deadly silent, the implication of what should happen next is not lost to anyone.

“What…What do we do?” Jisung questions, his voice is shaky and you can tell he’s on the verge of a panic attack. Honestly, you’re not far behind.

“Like I said, stay here for a few days until the food runs out. Then you move,”

“What are we supposed to do without you?” Hyunjin stresses the last word. Bangchan just let’s out another sigh.

“You’ll be fine. Eventually you guys were gonna have to stop leaning on me. That time has just come up a lot sooner than we thought,”

Another silence overtakes the group, no one saying a word. A few of them were already crying, knowing the fate that awaits Bangchan.

“I want to ask for one last thing though. I….don’t think I can do it myself. Please, I need one of you to do it,” His strong voice breaks for the first time. It’s what clues you in that he’s scared, something he doesn’t want to show to the others. Especially now.

Jisung and Felix shake their heads vehemently. The others shout ‘No’ and ‘No way’. The noise all blends together in your ears, everyone saying they wouldn’t do it, that they couldn’t do it.

So it surprises you when you stand up. Jeongin tries to pull on your arm to get you to sit back down. You don’t budge.

“I’ll do it,”

Suddenly everyone’s eyes are on you, some of them blatantly gaping at your declaration. Even Bangchan seems surprised that you had volunteered but he knows that if no one else would do it, he could put his trust in you.

“Are you sure?” He still asks. He needs you to be absolutely sure that you know what you’re agreeing to. Bangchan searches your eyes for any hesitance but doesn’t find any.

“If no one else will, I'll do it,” You nod your head determinedly and Bangchan relents. It might be fucked up, but you figured if you could kill your own mother, maybe you could kill one of your closest friends.

Everyone takes a moment to say goodbye, there’s not a dry eye in the room except for you. You do your best to stay strong, especially for the others but you can feel yourself slipping, eyes burning with unshed tears. When Bangchan starts vomiting up something black, eyes bloodshot and his pupils starting to fog over, you know it’s time. The two of you move to the backyard, no one else following. Just hearing the gun shot from the house would be enough to haunt their dreams.

You pick up a gun before following him, checking to see if the safety was off. While you had never handled a gun before, you’re basing things off of movies and TV shows you had watched. You’d definitely have to learn how to use one fast.

As you face Bangchan in the backyard, that’s when you finally start to cry. Throwing yourself into the older’s embrace. He clings to you tightly and you realize that this was the last time he’d ever give you a hug. One of his warm comforting hugs that used to make you feel safe. This one however, does nothing to calm the tidal wave of nerves running through you. When you pull away he can see your hands trembling, the weight of what you were about to do weighs heavily against your chest. It feels hard to breathe.

Bangchan leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You guys will be fine. I know you will,”

He closes his eyes, looking rather peaceful as you bring the gun to his forehead. You hesitate for a second, suddenly having second thoughts but you push them down. Bangchan had trusted you to do this and if it was the last thing you could do for him, you would. You squeeze your eyes shut, gritting your teeth as you force yourself to pull the trigger. The gunshot echoes in your ears as you hear his body hit the ground with a thump. You quickly turn away, unable to see the dead body of your friend.

Seungmin is there when you come back into the house, his eyes are dry but the tear stains on his cheeks give him away. Neither of you have to say anything before he scoops you up in an embrace. You’re still shaking softly, barely keeping a grip on your slipping sanity. Right now, Seungmin is the only thing keeping you grounded.

That night you and Jeongin curl up tightly together in bed. He never lets go of the fist full of your shirt, even as he falls asleep, scared that you might disappear on him as well.

There’s something else you realize that night while you lie awake, the unspoken implications of you being the one to kill your friend. You had suddenly become the leader of your ragtag group in the absence of Bangchan

It’s the middle of the night, only a few days since you had laid Bangchan to rest in the backyard of his childhood home. Sleep had been eluding you of late, dark circles finding a permanent residence under your eyes. The cup of tea you had made remains untouched on the table, probably cold now as you stare into the black space of the kitchen. A figure slips into the chair next to you and you don’t have to look up to know that it’s Seungmin.

While maybe not as close as you were with Jeongin, you and Seungmin still had a rather special bond. The two of you were similar, bad with words and feelings. Because of that the two of you could practically communicate with each other without having to say anything. You would seek comfort in each other when it was hard to do with anyone else.

He slips his hand in yours, fingers intertwining before giving you a soft squeeze. A silent way to reassure you that he was there for you.

Seungmin’s hands are large against yours. He’s warm and he feels like coming home when it feels like you’ve all but lost your way. It’s moments like these when you’re reminded just why you had fallen for the boy in the first place. Reluctantly you get up to leave, needing to get any rest that you can.

You found that sleep came easier after these late night meetings with Seungmin.

A month passes by quick and slowly, things get better. Every day is a step in the right direction and everyone settles into a routine that works. Though nothing explicitly has been said since that fateful day, it was obvious that the boys now looked to you for any guidance. You try your best to be a good leader and surprisingly you fall into the role easily, but you couldn’t deny that it was incredibly stressful. You felt much more respect for the older for having to deal with everyone for years.

You guys had continued to move, following Bangchan’s last advice, only staying in one place until all the food and supplies in the local area had been exhausted. Currently, you were on a supply run with Felix and Changbin, the rest of the boys back at the house going over your inventory. The three of you had stocked up on food and medical supplies, mostly medications with everyone constantly feeling sick with the amount of stress they were constantly under.

Somehow in the thirty minutes you had spent collecting supplies a horde had managed to form outside the store. They moved slow, effectively blocking your way out. Changbin let out a groan to which Felix hit the older in order to shush him. The male still managed to be loud even in the most dire of situations, but he was the best for these runs. He could carry the most with his muscles and with him wielding a bat with nails, it wasn’t hard for him to cave a couple zombies brains in.

You try to form a plan to get out relatively unscathed. There were too many to take out and using a gun was out of the question. The only way out of the horde, was to walk through them.

“Sorry lix, I think we’re gonna have to do the thing,”

Felix makes a face but reluctantly agrees. You don’t know how long the horde is going to linger and it’s best if you’re home before night falls, lest any of the boys go stir crazy that you haven’t returned.

You drag one of the dead bodies over to the other two, using a pocket knife to slit the belly of the corpse. It’s guts spill out and pool onto the floor and Felix can’t help the gag deep in his throat, the poor boy had never quite gotten used to the putrid smell of the dead. You pull the freckled boy down, moving to cover his face with what you guys had started calling zombie goo. Not exactly the most creative name, but the only thing your combined one brain cell could think of.

The smell had kept the zombies away, registering you as one of them. It was your least favorite thing to do, but it worked and it was your best bet right now.

You turn to do the same thing to Changbin while Felix continues to rub the remnants of the zombie all over his shirt and jeans. Your clothes would be ruined but it was worth it if you could get through the horde unscathed. Felix does your face for you, his tiny fingers decorating your cheeks with an unidentified fluid that you were completely fine never knowing.

The three of you make your way slowly through the horde, deadly silent in fear that the dead amongst you will figure out you’re not one of them. It’s nerve wracking, to be so close to the things that can kill you in one bite, turning you into one of them. You’re reminded of your vivid nightmares, ones where you turn into a zombie and end up eating your friends. You’d wake up with the taste of blood on your tongue but it was your own, having bitten your lip too hard in your sleep.

Pushing away those horrid nightmares from your brain, you instead think about who you’re going home to. Jeongin and Seungmin, the rest of the boys who are waiting for you to return. It’s the only thing that keeps you going, so you push forward no matter how hard it feels.

A scream pulls you out of your thoughts completely and your whole body goes cold. It terrifies you to even look behind you because you know that scream. There’s pure terror in their deep voice. You turn to see that Felix has been tripped by a stray zombie on the ground, its bony fingers wrapped around his ankle as it pulls the boy down onto the concrete with a loud slam. Felix is pulling desperately in an attempt to yank his foot out of the zombie’s grip but it’s too late, teeth sinking into his leg. Felix lets out another deafening scream. This time the horde stops and turns towards the blonde, now making their way to where they can smell fresh blood.

“No! No!” Felix cries become more desperate, calling out to you and Changbin. “Help! Help! Oh god. . .Fuck! No! Please!” Changbin is frozen next to you and soon you can no longer even see Felix, the zombies crowding around their new victim. The squelch of blood and flesh being torn echoes in your ears. You know you’ll hear it in your nightmares.

Felix doesn’t stop screaming, even as you can hear him starting to struggle with his words, choking on his own blood. He all but begs and pleads for his life, desperate words that mean nothing to the zombies that eat away at his body. You have to look away or at least do something to help. But you can’t. You’re paralyzed in your spot watching in horror as you listen to your friend die. Felix. Yongbok. The sunshine boy, who with a smile on his face told everyone everyday without fail that they were all still alive. That we were surviving. That things will be okay as long as we’re together.

And now he was dead.

Changbin takes one step forward and you wrap your hand around his wrist, trying to pull him back.

“Bin…He’s dead,” The words feel hard to get out, they still don’t feel real. Changbin only shakes his head at you, trying to wiggle out of your grip. “Changbin! It’s too late!” You beg the boy, tears starting to run down your cheeks. He yanks his arm out of your grasp before pushing his backpack into your hands. “What are you doing?” You want to scream at him, yell at him but your voice only comes out broken and cracked.

“I can’t. I won’t…I’m sorry. I won’t let him die alone,” It’s Changbin’s last words to you as you watch him willingly get swallowed by the horde.

The only thing you can do is watch in disbelief. And you hate it. How many times were you going to have to just stand there and watch your friends die? Helpless to be able to do anything. It was Changbin’s choice but you had let him do it, you had let him basically kill himself.

It takes everything in you to finally turn around and begin the trek back to the safe house. Your feet feel heavy as you drag yourself away from your two friends.

Changbin pushes his way through the zombies as they try to grab at him but he doesn’t even care, he just knows he has to get to Felix. Before he’s gone. When he finally reaches Felix he has to fight the urge to look away. His pretty blonde hair is matted with blood and his legs are completely torn into.

Somehow Felix is still alive, but just barely, as if holding on so he could see Changbin just one last time. His skin is pale, eyes completely unfocused and turning white in the zombification process. Changbin barely recognizes that the zombies are tearing into his back. He doesn’t care, not even screaming at the searing pain as he reaches out for Felix’s hand, grasping onto it tight. Felix is ice cold, fingers twitching one last time before going completely limp in Changbin’s hand.

Changbin sobs, watching the light disappear from Felix’s eyes. “…I’m here, yongbokkie. I’m here,”

Seungmin is the one who greets you when you walk through the door. It reminds you of the first day of the apocalypse, when you had made it to Bangchan’s house feeling less alive than usual.

“Jeez, you stink. Did you have to do the thing?” He questions teasingly but subtly looks you over for any injuries. At your silence the boy looks up to see red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. Seungmin calls out your name but you can barely hear him, Felix’s screams are still ringing in your ear. It isn’t until you feel his warm hands against your cheeks that you finally look at him, a concerned look swimming in his eyes.

“What happened?” That’s all it takes for you to break down, throwing yourself at the boy. Seungmin catches you and lowers you gently to the floor as you lean into his chest, sobbing. You shake your head vehemently, trying to deny the truth that you had seen with your eyes. Seungmin isn’t sure what to do, hands stroking softly at your back. Your loud cries alert everyone else and it doesn’t take long before they all come bounding into the entryway.

“…where’s Changbin and Felix?” The words are stuck in your throat, guilt weighing heavily against your chest, suffocating you.

It’s rather obvious of what has occurred. You coming home hysterical and without the other two, it’s not that hard to come to conclusions. Slowly the boys dissipate to grieve and process the news on their own but Seungmin doesn’t leave your side, even for a second. He lets you ruin the shirt he’s wearing with your wet tears and snot. Eventually Jeongin takes his spot and if possible you cling even harder to the younger boy.

You babble on about how it’s all your fault, how you should have at least tried to convince Changbin to not go. How maybe if you were in the back instead of the front, Felix would still be alive. Jeongin just holds you a little more tighter.

The rest of the night is a blur, vaguely remembering someone feeding you in order to get some semblance of food down your throat and the worlds hottest shower, all but burning your skin as some sort of punishment to yourself.

You’re tucked up in bed with Jeongin, a common occurrence as the two of you seek comfort in one another most nights. Usually it’s you who is doing the reassuring, petting Jeongin’s head and spewing empty promises that everything would be fine. Both of you knew it was lies but the words did their purpose.

Jeongin runs his fingers through your hair, helping to lull you to sleep. With heavy eyelids you give the boy one more glance before letting them fall shut. Exhaustion hits you all at once, both physically and mentally tired.

“Jeongin?” He hums. “You’ll never leave me right?” Your words are slightly slurred with sleep before you succumb to the temporary bliss of being unconscious. He glances over at you with sad eyes, running his thumb over your cheeks. They’re starting to sink in, the lack of a proper diet was starting to show - even on Jisung who has always had full cheeks.

A sigh falls from his lips before he leans in to presses a shaky kiss to your forehead. Jeongin doesn’t think he can keep this promise. No. He knows.

“I’m so sorry,”

You wake up to the sound of a gun shot.

It rattles you awake, heart threatening to rip right out of your chest. Your body moves on it’s own as you follow the noise down to the living room, pulse ringing in your ears and anxiety seeping into your veins. The loud sound of your footsteps against the stairs alert the boys who are already gathered around.

“Shit, get them away from here!” Hyunjin hisses and Minho is quick to try to push you back up the stairs. It only further annoys you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Bro, what the fuck? What’s going on?” You growl, annoyed with the sudden secrecy from your friends. Sleep muddles your brain, swatting at Minho for him to get out of your way. You can see Seungmin on the couch, face buried in his hands. His shoulder shake and you can vaguely hear his quiet sobs. “Seriously, what is-“

Then you see the body and you’re pretty sure you can feel your heart physically breaking. Your knees buckle underneath you, sending you crashing to the ground.

Jeongin is laid across the ground, blood splattered across the carpet and a gun in his hand.

With shaky hands you reach out towards the boy, your fingers pressing to his pulse point. It’s useless, he’s dead but your brain refuses to believe it. Your hands move to cup his cheeks and the way his head lulls backwards in your hands makes you sick. Jeongin has already gone cold and all you wanna do is bundle him up in a blanket until he’s warm again. You pull his head to your chest. Blood continues to spill from the hole in his head but you don’t care, nor do you care that you’re getting his blood all over your clothes.

The boys are looking away from you, dealing with their own pain as you rock the lifeless body in your arms. Small broken whimpers fall from your lips and silent tears run down your cheeks. You want to all but scream, yell at the world for taking Jeongin away from you but your throat is too raw. It feels like you’ve sat here for hours just crying and clutching the boy to you, your eyes have long gone dry, completely bloodshot.

Something in you snaps, perhaps your sanity, as you drop Jeongin to the ground. The sound alerts the boys to your actions, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When you make a lunge for the gun, various voices are screaming at you, all of them throwing themselves at you. Minho kicks the gun out of your hand as Hyunjin and Jisung push you to the ground. They don’t mean to be so rough with you but you’re clearly not in the right headspace, if they have to rough you up a little to get you to think straight, they’ll do it.

You fight against them, screaming and sobbing while trying to push Jisung off of you and grabbing at Hyunjin’s hair, the latter hissing at you. The three of you are all but wrestling on the floor, swearing at the two boys who are trying to subdue you. Your own voice rings in your ears, yet somehow you manage to hear Seungmin’s quiet call of your name.

His effect on you is immediate, stopping the attack against your friends before glancing up at the boy who has come closer to you. His voice is surprisingly even, nothing giving away to the turmoil in his heart. Jisung and Hyunjin pull away from you when they notice that you seem to have calmed down for now, watching the other boy intensely.

Seungmin replaces them as he comes to kneel in front of you, bringing his large hands to cup at your smaller face.

“Please…” Seungmin begs, his voice finally breaking “Don’t. You- You can’t leave me too, okay? I need you,” It’s the way he emphasizes the word need that has your attention.

The other three can see that the two of you need a moment, they move to lift Jeongin’s body and carries him out to the back to be properly buried. Minho doesn’t forget to take the gun with him, lest you decide to try again to follow your best friend.

You sniffle pathetically as you glance into Seungmin’s pretty eyes, which are practically baring his soul to you. You have to look away from his gaze, head shaking softly and hands coming to grab at his shirt.

“Why?” Your voice is croaks, hoarse from screaming. “Why? Why? Why?” You repeat over and over again, almost like a mantra. It’s the only thing in your head. Why would anyone ever need you? Especially someone like Seungmin.

“Because I love you,”

He says it so simply and your head snaps up so fast that Seungmin worries that you might have given yourself whiplash. Your eyes search his, trying to find any trace of a lie but you know that you won’t find one. Seungmin has never lied to you. He can see the small sparkle in your eyes, the sliver of hope you carry.

“You know that right? That I love you?” He murmurs as he comes impossibly closer, noses touching and you can feel his warm breath against your chapped lips.

You let out a shaky exhale. “You…You do?” Your voice is no higher than a whisper, as if you spoke it louder it wouldn’t be true. He lets out a soft huff of laughter. You had always adored his laugh, especially the evil laugh he would let out when he was being a menace. It was one of your favorite things about him. The other being his smile, even when he had braces. He had found them dorky and ugly, but you just thought he had looked just as handsome with the metal.

Seungmin tucks some hair behind your ears, looking down at you fondly. “I do. So much,” He leans in just an inch so he can finally press his lips to yours. It’s just a quick peck, both of your lips are far to dry to have an enjoyable kiss at the moment, but he couldn’t hold back anymore.

When he pulls back he notices that you’ve shed a few more tears and he can only hope that they’re happy ones, even with your current situation. He wipes them away with his thumb.

“Minnie,” He hums in response. “Promise me. Promise me right now that you will never leave my side,” Your tone has an edge of desperation to it. Even if it’s impossible you need to hear him say it. Even if he has to lie to you for the first time.

Seungmin leans in to press a kiss to your forehead before keeping them pressed together. “I promise. It’s you and me. Until the very end,”

After spending a few more moments together the two of you finally make your way towards the backyard. Jeongin looks peaceful inside the hole Minho had dug for him, hands held together with some flowers you assume Hyunjin had picked for him. It’s the only consolation you have - Jeongin is no longer in pain, he’s in a much better place now. He’s with his hyungs.

They would take care of him now.

You have to look away as they begin to fill the hole with dirt, burying your face into Seungmin’s chest. You can’t bear to watch, the finalization that your best friend is not coming back.

Jeongin is gone.

And he took half of your heart and the broken strings of your sanity with him.

When you walk into the kitchen the next morning, clad in only Seungmin’s shirt, both Jisung and Hyunjin give you identical smirks behind their cup of coffee. You roll your eyes at dumb and dumber, flipping them off as you grab your own serving of caffeine. Your reaction only spurs them on as they giggle manically.

“God you two are annoying,”

“Yeah and you’re loud,” Hyunjin snickers and Jisung has the audacity to laugh. Your cheeks turn red as you clear your throat, trying to look like their words had no effect on you.

“You’re one to talk Jisung, pretty sure you woke up everyone that one night,” You quip back and the boy practically chokes on his drink. Hyunjin wacks him on the back, now giggling at the expense of the other.

“The point is. We’re happy for you. It’s about damn time. Can’t believe it took the literal end of the world though,”

“Yeah, I thought I was gonna die with all this mutual pinning and constant heart eyes,”

You roll your eyes again at their antics but your smile gives away just how fond of them you are and even if they’re annoying you’re happy to know that they’re happy for you. Except for when Seungmin waddles into the kitchen half asleep and no shirt on, coming over to you to lean his whole body weight on you. Your cheeks flare up once again and it makes the two boys holler at your reaction. Both you and Seungmin flip them off.

“Ugh, actually I take it back. This is a bad idea, you two are basically the same,”

Seungmin lets out a soft laugh before pressing a kiss to your temple, finally moving off you to make a cup of coffee. You simply observe him, watching as he swipes at Jisung for probably saying something stupid and Hyunjin’s high pitched laugh echoes in the room. A smile graces your lips.

It’s for just a moment that you think that everything is going to be ok.

Of course, the world loves proving you wrong.

A week goes by without any bumps, things falling back into place slowly after Jeongin’s death. Seungmin can’t quite explain it but something still feels wrong, this nagging feeling in the back of his brain. On more than one occasion he’d find you in the bedroom you two shared now, sitting on the edge and just staring at the wall, eyes glassed over. It was like you were a million miles away. You couldn’t even hear him when he’d call out your name several times until he has to shake you back into your body.

Every single time you’d tell him you were ok, just tired but Seungmin didn’t believe you. If he’s honest, he’s scared. He can’t help but feel like he’s losing you even when you’re right in front of him. Something dark is trying to take you away from him, but he’ll be damned if he lets that happen.

Things get worse though.

Tensions have been running high. You easily snap at the smallest things, the slightest inconvenience sends you reeling. Seungmin is the only one who can calm you down, the boys practically avoiding you when you’re about to blow. On days like this he feels like his grip on you slips even more.

Not only that but Jisung and Hyunjin have been at each others throats nonstop. It reminds you of freshman year of high school, when the two boys could not get along, constantly bickering and fighting. It had nearly torn your friend group apart.

So you’re not surprised to come back home from a quick supply run with Seungmin to a yelling match between the two of them. Dumb insults are being thrown around and you are sure that there is an even dumber reason as to why they were fighting.

Minho is off to the side, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut. You can tell the older is so done with the two of them, having probably already tried to stop them but had all but given up.

The two are in each others faces, guns waving around in an unsafe manner as they practically spit in each others faces.

“What the fuck is going on,” You cut them off, your voice piercing. You want to make it clear that you are not in the mood to deal with this.

“Fuck you Han Jisung,” They ignore you, continuing their fight as if you had never even entered the room.

“You’d like to wouldn’t you? Is that why you’re always trying to pick a fight? This isn’t how you get someone in bed with you Hwang Hyunjin,”

Hyunjin’s nostrils flare as he pushes Jisung back harshly. You’re starting to get real annoyed at their childish fight. They were being so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if zombies started showing up at their ruckus. You’re about to tell them to cut it out before a gunshot rings out, startling everyone in the room. You flinch and instinctively duck at the sound. Seungmin quickly throws himself over to you, hugging your frame to his body in order to shield you.

But when you look up it’s not you who has been shot. Hyunjin is still standing somehow, a hand pressing to his neck but it does nothing to stop his blood from spurting from the wound. His eyes are blown wide in shock, staring at Jisung in disbelief. The latter has already dropped the gun, having gone white as a sheet, his hands trembling.

Hyunjin seems to be trying to say something but the only thing coming out is gurgles and broken words, but you’re pretty sure everyone can hear the strained ‘Jisung’ that slips from his blood stained lips. It doesn’t take long before his strength leaves his body, falling to the ground, dead.

The room is deadly silent in the aftermath. No one moves a single inch.

“I’m- oh my god. Fuck I. I thought the safety was on. I didn’t. I didn’t think. I- Oh my god,” Jisung beings to ramble, his voice wavering in disbelief at what has just happened. He’s on the verge of a panic attack or a mental break down. Minho attempts to reach out to him to try and comfort him but Jisung simply slaps his hand away, scared that he might kill the older on accident too.

You make your way over to Jisung, no emotion showing on your face, nothing to give away what exactly is going on in your mind. In fact, there’s only one thing on your mind when you pull the gun out from your holster, pushing it into Jisung’s temple.

His eyes go wide, shaking his head as he pleads for his life. “Wait. No. You can’t be s-serious! It was an accident! I didn’t. I did-“ You don’t have time to hear his excuses. Your friend is dead on the floor over some arbitrary argument. In your jumbled mind, this is the only thing that makes sense.

You pull the trigger.

Jisung flops dead next to Hyunjin and the next thing your brain registers is Minho slapping the gun out of your hand. It feels oddly like deja vu and you’re brought back to the vivid memories of Jeongin’s death. Minho’s fingers are curled into the collar of your shirt, rage overtaking his features.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU,” He shakes you rather violently in his grasp. You still haven’t shown a single emotion on your face.

“Hm? What do you mean? Jisung killed Hyunjin, so therefore we should put Jisung down. Isn’t that only fair?”

“Fair? Do you fucking hear yourself? You just killed Jisung for no reason!”

“And didn’t Jisung just kill Hyunjin for no reason?”

“So what? We just go around killing friends if they make a mistake?”

“A mistake that cost another one of our friends lives,”

“So what you’re saying is that we should have put a bullet in your brain the moment you didn’t come back home with Felix and Changbin?” Your eyes narrow dangerously, snarling at the male in front of you.

“How was that my fucking fault? Felix was tripped by a zombie and Changbin went back after him. That was HIS choice. You can’t blame me for that” Minho looks like he’s seconds from strangling you. So you make it worse, something you were good at. “what are you so fucking mad for? Upset you can’t get your dick wet anymore?”

Minho slaps you straight across the face. You know you deserve it.

“Fuck you, you crazy fucking bitch,” Minho spits in your face before pushing you back, stomping away.

Even though he had hit you with as much strength as he could, you can barely feel where he had struck you. Your body is all too numb to register anything.

Seungmin has been eerily quiet this whole time, not saying anything until he comes over to you, wrapping his arms around your middle to pull you flush to his chest. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, staring at the white ceiling.

“Do you think I’m crazy Min?” Your voice is quiet, a distinct tiredness laced under your words.

“You did what you had to do love,” He mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You both know he didn’t answer the question.

It doesn’t even surprise you when you find Minho gone the next day, half of your supplies missing. You can’t find it in you to even care, he could have taken everything if he really wanted to. You’re sat on the edge of the bed with Seungmin beside you, your eyes foggy as you stare at the white wall. He’s got your hand in his lap, thumb tracing over your knuckles.

Seungmin can no longer ignore the fact that the person he had fallen in love with was gone. Lost somewhere inside the recesses of your brain, tangled in the strings of your sanity. Still, Seungmin is so deeply and irrevocably in love with you. That would never change. No matter how far you fall, he’d be there to pick you up.

Besides, he knows it’s not your fault. You’ve been pushed too far, past the point of no return.

You know it too. How many times have you told Seungmin to just leave? That there was no way he could be in love with the person you had become. Seungmin would be better off by himself, far away from you. But he’d just hold you a little tighter, run a hand through your hair and whisper how much he loved you. The two of you would spend hours like this, wrapped up in each other, trying to pretend the world outside didn’t exist anymore.

In the end you didn’t really want him to leave. You were too selfish. You need Seungmin.

And he needs you just as much. Which is why he easily agrees to your little plan.

The two of you find yourselves on the roof of the nearest tallest building, standing mere inches away from the ledge. You watch as the sun sets, an orange red glowing in the sky. Had you not known the earth was all but doomed, you’d find it beautiful. Especially for your last moments.

You turn to face Seungmin, only to find he’s already looking at you, that adoring look in his eyes. It makes you wonder how he can still look at you like that, when you’re making him do something like this.

“Are you sure?” You ask, voice rough. Though if you were honest, everything about you was rough now. Tangled hair, sunken in cheekbones and permanent dark circles under your eyes. The clothes around your frame were baggy from how much weight you had lost since this all started. Seungmin still finds you beautiful.

He comes over to slide his palm against your jaw and you lean instinctively into his warm touch. It amazes you that his simple touch could bring you so much comfort.

“Of course,” And he says it with such conviction that you don’t argue. You’re far too tired to argue anyways. As selfish as it is, you don’t think you could do it without Seungmin anyway.

Seungmin’s watching you intently, stroking your cheeks. He knows how tired you are, how much pain you’re in, to the point where you just want everything to stop. You’ve suffered so much, the burden of being their leader was too heavy for you alone to carry. Despite the circumstances, Seungmin thinks you had been a good leader, you had done the best you could. You had sacrificed everything for them, including your sanity. Seungmin is proud of you. He always would be.

All Seungmin wants is for you to be happy. He’d give you the whole world if it hadn’t gone to utter shit.

So if this is what you need? If this is what it takes for you to finally be at peace? Then he’ll do it. He’d do anything for you.

Seungmin pulls your face forward, slotting his lips against yours. You wrap your arms around him, letting your head tilt to deepen the embrace, making sure he can feel all the love you have for him pouring into him. Until it seeps into his bones. Because you know. You both know that it’s your last.

Seungmin had made love to you earlier, after the two of you agreed on the plan. You both had needed it, wanted it. It was just another last thing you two would do together. The way he held you afterwards had made you cry, how he held you like you were the most precious thing to him in the world. It had made you feel guilty, that you just couldn’t bring yourself to continue going on. Seungmin knew, and he could never be so selfish to make you go on when you simply couldn’t.

Besides, he was selfish himself. Seungmin doesn’t think he can bear watching you further lose yourself to the darkness.

The two of you pull away and you slide your hand into his. He gives your conjoined hands a gentle squeeze. Even now he’s still reassuring you. The two of you step up on the edge, the sun having just fallen over the horizon.

Seungmin feels oddly at peace, standing here with you. At least he was putting his fate into his own hands and there was no one he’d rather be with then you in this moment.

Because at the end, it was Seungmin who had stayed with you. Who had promised you forever and Seungmin has never lied to you.

“Minnie?”

He hums in response.

“I love you,”

“I love you too. Until the very end,”

Both of you lean forward.

#stray kids #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin angst #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #stray kids fanfic #skz x reader #kim seungmin angst #stray kids au #stray kids x reader #seungmin x you #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz

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meddling-in-horror · 8 months

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Giving Them the Moment: How Our Flag Means Death and it's Portrayal of Black Men is the Most Important Thing on Television Right Now

Note: written April 20, 2022

Media is an incredibly distinct way of communicating. It has a wide reach, and each person has their own interpretation of what they see. That’s the beauty of the medium as a whole. However, there are often downsides, especially when it pertains to the West. In the US in particular, there is a trend within popular media to lean towards propagandization. Whether it’s the idea that communism and socialism are products of the ‘Evil East’ or the lingering effects of the Motion Picture Production Code - also known as the Hays Code, the media monopolies have a firm grasp on what we as a society watch and enjoy.

When you begin to play close attention to how the media portrays Black men, this becomes abundantly clear.

It is a rare thing when we see Black men whose characters aren’t portrayed as being the object nor the perpetrators of violence. In fact, only one mainstream popular show comes to mind: The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. But even then, the given circumstances of Fresh Prince revolve around Will’s escape from the violence of the ‘urban’ inner city. This vilification of Black men dates back to the 1910s with D. W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation, and continued into the 1930s, where Black people were often personified as the monsters, representing the ‘exciticism’ of the world beyond the West. It is the ‘exoticism’ that has played a huge part in the dehumanization of Black men as a whole. But as a Black Queer person watching Our Flag Means Death, it is breaking that mold in an incredibly important way.

The Black men in the show are allowed to have fun.

This show is breaking barriers left and right. Of the major recurring cast of 15, over half of them are people of color. It’s overt and unflinching portrayal of Queerness when so many of its older viewers - myself included - have lived through the Bury Your Gays and Dead Lesbians tropes time and time again is overwhelmingly refreshing. Nearly all characters are Queer until proven straight and represent all parts under the umbrella, including Leslie Jones’ polyamorous pirate queen and Vico Ortiz - a non-binary actor - playing a non-binary character.

But in a world where the narratives of Black men are so often framed around violence and brutality, the Black crewmates of the Queen Anne’s Revenge - Frenchie, Oluwande, and Roach - are allowed to be funny and vulnerable. Each one of them is starkly different from the other with identifiable characteristics that allow the audience to humanize them. The trio quickly became my favorites among the crew, with Roach being the stand-out amongst them. Samba Schutte’s often deadpan delivery never fails to draw a laugh from me, in particular the assertion that “meat is meat”. Frenchie, played by Joel Fry, is the quickest on the draw where his intellect is concerned, being posited in the show’s fifth episode as having had a hand in inventing the pyramid scheme while spouting the wildest of conspiracy theories and being afraid of cats (they’re witches, they steal your breath, and have knives in their feet, you know). The softness and constant vulnerability of Samson Kayo’s Oluwande may be one of the most important aspects of the show, as it establishes him as a reliable and trustworthy confidante to not just Jim, but to Rhys Darby’s Stede Bonnet as well.

They exist in their own separate spheres on the ship, going about their own separate business completely unbothered. While it is implied they lead violent lives as pirates, this violence isn’t used to define them as characters. In fact, Oluwande stated that both he and Jim engaged in piracy because they “had no choice”. The brief mention we get of Frenchie’s backstory implies that he lives a life of servitude, though whether that was as an enslaved person or a freed Black domestic worker is not mentioned. While there is little known about Roach so far, it is implied that his culinary skills are far beyond the levels of what is needed aboard a pirate ship.

The friendships and relationships they form within the crew aren’t built on violence either, but on open and honest communication. Most notably, the friendship of Frenchie and Wee John Feeny, played by Kristian Nairn. Fry and Nairn are an impeccable comic duo when their characters become ‘room people’, and the scene where they begin to design their new space is a personal highlight of the episode. Oluwande and Jim’s romance - played to perfection by Kayo and Ortiz - is one that revolves around both characters being almost devastatingly open with each other. Both actors play the emotional vulnerability of the characters well, and it is important to emphasize that it is Kayo’s Oluwande that moves to meet Jim where they are.

While the show allows all its men to show varying levels of emotional vulnerability - an exception being offered to the emotionally constipated Izzy Hands, played by Con O’Neill - there is something so special about seeing that luxury afforded to Black men. This show has, in just ten episodes, has become a game changer for the television industry. It has proved that a show with explicitly Queer characters can become a massive sleeper hit, and that sometimes the best kind of historical show is one that is historical fiction. But it has also proved that you can create a narrative with Black men that doesn’t include their stories being framed in violence or brutality, that they can be funny, charming, witty, vulnerable, intelligent, complex characters with their own narratives that serve a purpose outside of a device of exoticism. It is this rare thing that makes these characters, and indeed the show as a whole, so important to its viewers.

We deserve more vulnerability, more humor, and more humanizing content from these three men, and this show is one that is truly deserving of a glorious second season.

Sources:

Donaldson, Leigh. “When the media misrepresents Black men, the effects are felt in the real world.”

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/aug/12/media-misrepresents-black-men-effects-felt-real-world.

Kumah-Abiwu, Felix. “Media Gatekeeping and Portrayal of Black Men in America.”

Opportunity Agenda. “Media Portrayals and Black Male Outcomes.”

https://www.opportunityagenda.org/explore/resources-publications/media-representation-impact-black-men/media-portrayals.

Our Flag Means Death, (2022-). HBO Max.

#not horror but its relevant #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #roach #frenchie #oluwande boodhari #david jenkins #black men in media #let black men be silly in things!!!!!!#our flag means death season 2

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myhairpintrigger · 1 year

Text

Moonlight & Shadows (aleksander morozova x fem!moon summoner!reader)

READ PART 1 HERE

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the requested part two to another request i had gotten previously so PLEASE read that first. it’ll make it easier for you to understand this one :) apologies in advance for how long this is… i got very carried away.

requested by: @sloppyzengarden

as always.. PLEASE SEND ME YOUR LOVELY REQUESTS <33

warnings: major character death, spoilers for season 2, canon typical violence, mentions of blood. slightly (?) ooc (?) mal

word count: 17.5k

Tendrils of shadow weaved themselves between your glowing fingers and you tapped them, watching as the darkness of the shadows fizzled into a soft silvery shower of tiny sparks.

Your delicate hand was clasped tightly in Aleksander’s much larger, scarred one. A black mark covered the back of his hand where the bone of the stag used to sit, fused into his skin.

With your free hand and his, the two of you absentmindedly messed around with your powers, something the two of you did often. He claimed you should use it often and that’s why he did it, but you suspected it was because he enjoyed watching your light consume his shadows and turn them into silvery, moonlit sparks.

You sat on one of his thighs while your legs were draped across the other and you laid your head down on his shoulder. Every now and then, he’d turn to press a kiss to the side of your face. Despite the situation you were in, the pressures you both were under, you’d never felt so adored.

You pulled back just a bit to look up at his face to admire him. Black scars now decorated his beautiful face and there was a different roughness to him ever since you had found him, emerging from The Fold.

He didn’t like his scars, but to you, they were just another part of the man you loved so dearly. Every part of him was so beautiful to you.

As if sensing your stare, he slowly turned his head downwards and gazed at you through his half-lidded, tired eyes.

“What’re you staring at, little one?” He asked and reached down to run just the tips of his calloused fingers over your cheek.

“Just you. What else?” You answered honestly, and he simply let out a short laugh.

He didn’t respond in any other way, instead deciding to wrap both of his arms around your waist. You laid your hands on his chest and rested your cheek against his collarbone, eyes falling shut slowly. Comfort washed over you like a warm rain and you gathered the lapels of his kefta in your fists, holding yourself as close to him as you possibly could.

Most of your nights ended like this, together. Ever since you had found him, crawling out of The Fold with his nichevo'ya following behind him, he’d held you just a little bit tighter when he got the chance to. He hadn’t allowed you to board the skiff with him and Alina on that fateful day where everything went terribly wrong. He’d instead had Ivan put you to sleep and left you in his tent back at the army encampment. When you woke, you could feel him. All of him. All of his pain, his suffering, and most of all, you could feel the way he was calling for you. You heard it in your mind, and it led you all the way to the edge of The Fold. When he came stumbling out, you ran to him, taking him into your capable arms.

When you promised him forever, you meant just that.

You’d always known there was a darkness within Aleksander. A darkness that was more than just the shadows he controlled.

A darkness that you’d taken in whole and accepted as part of the man you loved.

There was much unspoken between the two of you, much that was unnecessary to speak. He knew you better than you knew yourself, and at this point, you liked to believe that you knew him better than he did.

“You ought to be getting some sleep, my precious Saint.” He whispered and placed a kiss against the side of your head.

“I do not wish to, not yet.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I am comfortable here with you.” You replied and looked up at him. His face was soft, a sight you’d seldom seen before his emergence from The Fold. You felt a twinge of sadness in your stomach and he must have noticed it on your face, because he cupped your face with one hand and leaned down towards you.

“Oh, my love. None of that. Do not pity me. I am alive and I am well. You are mine, I am yours, we will emerge victorious through it all, all is right. All is well.” he cooed in a tone that could’ve convinced you that the sky was green rather than blue.

His warm lips pressed themselves against your temple and he drew you in closer to himself until you were completely covered in him.

“My beautiful Saint of the Moon, sleep now. I will not let go of you.” he promised in that same velvet tone, and it was enough to make you close your eyes.

“But you need your sleep, too, moi soverenyi.” you whispered to him, but you felt his finger tap your lips.

“I will sleep once I know you have comfortably fallen into your very own slumber. As I do every night.” he replied and you nuzzled your face into the side of his chest.

You listened to the shallow beating of his heart underneath your cheek and you focused on the rise and fall of his chest, never wanting to move from the spot you’d taken up residency in for the night. The distant sound of his heart lulled you to sleep, slowly at first, and then your exhaustion came down on you like an avalanche, pulling you down into its clutches.

“Do you think perhaps once we find the last amplifier that I could have a bit of it, too?” you asked softly, watching as Aleksander flipped through a leather bound book on the table in front of the two of you.

Vladim, a small Alkemi pushed another book towards Aleksander and he let out a discontented hum.

“But of course, my little moonbeam. Anything you would like shall be yours.” he mumbled distractedly and you heard a snort from the other side of the room. You glanced over at Baghra who sat in her cage, eyeing you with contempt.

“Feeling like a little house kitten yet, Miss y/l/n?” Baghra asked and Aleksander’s head perked up.

“Speak not to my Moon Summoner, woman. Keep your spite to yourself and rot with it, mother.” he said sharply and then as if he had to apologize, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Do ignore her. She couldn’t possibly understand the capacity of that which I have affection for you.” he murmured and then picked up another book.

“Please. You know little of true affection, Aleksander. You’ll have your fun with your pet and then once the novelty wears off, you’ll want another. Something else to gain.” she said with a sense of pride that made you curl your fingers into fists.

“Last I checked, Baghra, I was not the one collared and chained to a skiff. My presence is entirely voluntary.” you snapped, referring to Alina.

“Voluntary because you choose to show him what tricks you’ve learned. Because you derive your pride and pleasures on making him proud. Proud of the tricks he taught you. You-“

“Enough!” Aleksander yelled and turned towards Baghra, “Bitter hag. Make your assumptions to yourself, for you know little of what you speak.” he snapped and the room fell entirely silent.

His arm wrapped around your middle and he pulled you into his side tightly.

“You can have whatever you like. If you desire The Firebird, then I shall give it to you on a silver platter.” he repeated and then stared down at you, his eyes steely, “A queen deserves that much.”

A warm feeling, much akin to drunkenness, filled your chest as you looked up at Aleksander and he trailed his eyes away from the journal in his hands. He looked down upon your face and then he sighed.

“Stop gazing at me like that. We have things to do today and if I catch your affectionate stare once more, I will want nothing else but to stare back.” He replied and then he set the journal down and clutched your hands in his.

He gave you a soft smile and then he ducked down to place a delicate kiss on your cheekbone.

“My dear girl, would you be so kind as to fetch me the notebook that is in our room?” He asked softly and you looked up at him, giving his hands a soft squeeze.

“Of course. Give me a moment, I’ll be right back.” You promised and he moved in to give you one more peck on the side of your face and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Once he had released your hands and turned back to his work with Vladim, you walked out into the hallway, humming quite contently to yourself.

You rounded the corner to your bedroom when a hand closed itself around your arm. You spun around urgently only to see Genya standing behind you, her lips pursed in a frown.

“Y/n,” she began, speaking in a tone not much louder than a simple breath, “I am hoping you will find it within yourself to help me.”

You gazed into the red headed girl’s eyes and you blinked a couple of times, reaching up to gently lay your hand on her forearm.

“You look ever so frightened, Genya.”

“I need your help-“

“Yes but you are shaking.” You protested, cutting her off.

“That is why I need your help!” She exclaimed and then she leaned her face into her hands, “I did not mean to raise my voice to you, I apologize, y/n.”

You’d never seen her act so skittish before and it struck a chord of worry deep within you.

“Oh, please no. Don’t apologize. Just tell me what you need, darling.” You breathed, trying to be as soft and kind as you could be to the anxiety ridden girl.

“David and I-“ Once again, the girl was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream behind the two of you, and you slowly turned around.

The scream resonated in your bones, it nearly made you shiver with its proximity. You’d heard that kind of scream many times before; someone was in great pain.

Determined footsteps followed just a moment later and they echoed down the hall, coming closer to the two of you.

Genya let go of your arm instantly and she turned the opposite corner and took off in a fast walk, leaving you standing in confusion. Just as you went to walk to your bedroom, another hand caught your arm and you looked up to see Aleksander.

He did not look down at you this time. His face, though stoic, had a burning fury bubbling just underneath the skin, and you could see this through his dark eyes. His jaw was set so tightly you thought he might shatter each and every one of his teeth. You had not been around an angry Aleksander before. Either he displayed his anger elsewhere, or he was just very skilled at keeping it at bay. Whatever the case may have been, the apoplectic glint in his eyes made you frown and you wanted to make yourself very small in that moment.

“My love?” You whispered and reached up to place your hand on top of his as he held your upper arm.

His restraint was impressive. For someone who had eons of rage just beneath the surface, he held your arm so gently that you would have believed him to be much happier if you’d felt his touch without seeing his face.

After just a moment, he tipped his head down towards you and he gave you a very, very tense look.

“I have acquired amplifiers for you and I.” He said simply and then he let his fingers fall away from your arm before he gently brushed past you and strode down the hall.

You wondered where he could have found an amplifier so instantaneously and you turned around and made your way back into the room he had just left.

Vladimi stood at his table with a semi-disgusted look on his face and you stared at him for a moment before you dared to look over at Baghra, who had her hand cradled against her chest. Blood slipped through her fingers at a rapid rate and dribbled onto the floor beneath her. You questioned what had happened and turned to Vladim to ask, though, you wished you hadn’t, because the boy held a dish with one severed finger sitting upon it.

Your mouth fell open and you looked between Vladim and Baghra rapidly before you retreated out of the room, feeling rather sick to your stomach.

You hadn’t seen Aleksander all day. Not since he informed you that you now had an amplifier. The thought made you shiver.

You had never been fond of Baghra, in fact, the two of you had a very tumultuous acquaintanceship. She was very well aware of the fact that you stood with her son at all times, completely devoted to him. Just as you were well aware she was completely devoted to his downfall. The two beliefs didn’t match up, and neither did the two of you. That didn’t necessarily mean you wanted her to be dismembered in the name of your own gain.

It wasn’t as if you were angry with Aleksander, though. Truth be told, you were a bit afraid of him at the moment. You had never seen the man angry before. He was smart, he played his cards right, and he was cautious to never show you his anger, his contempt. Perhaps it was because he knew just how terrifying he could be. He didn’t need a gun, he didn’t need weaponry of any kind, he didn’t even need to raise his voice. All Aleksander needed to invoke fear was a simple change in his eyes, and the look in them earlier was enough to send a biting chill down to your very bones. And you weren’t even the subject of his anger.

You finished your ninth slow lap around the grounds of the sanctuary and you rubbed your cold nose a few times, letting out a little sigh. You’d been outside walking for quite some time now, trying to decide what to do next. You wanted to thank Aleksander for the amplifier, but you also wanted to ask him why. You wanted to go inside and sit on his thigh while he pondered by his window, but you didn’t want to see his anger. So you instead went for your tenth circle around the grounds, only getting started before someone cleared their throat near you.

You turned your head to see David walking alongside you now and you gave him a little smile. He didn’t smile back.

“Is there anything I can do for you, David?” You asked, keeping the polite smile on your face as you spoke to him.

“Yes. I need to ask something of you. I would never ask if I wasn’t completely desperate.” He mumbled and then looked away from you.

“Ask.” You instructed, and you were almost surprised with how your tone resembled Aleksander’s.

David must have thought the same thing because his eyes shot towards you and he studied your face for a moment before he shook his head.

“I am… leaving. With Genya. I need you to keep The Darkling… occupied. For the evening. Please, y/n. I know very well of your devotion to him, I know what I risk by asking this of you, but I saw your eyes today, when you realized what he’d done to Baghra. You are afraid of him. So are we. Please, I beg you to let us go. Let us escape. Buy us some time.” He explained, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice.

You eyed him and pursed your lips. A bit of your own anger began to build and you let out a little scoff.

“Do you realize what you ask of me? You want me to deceive the man who protects me? Who protects you? All of us? David, he saved Genya. He saved you, and all you can do to repay him is run?” You asked incredulously, your eyes narrowing.

“He is no man! He is evil in its truest form. He commands wicked things, horrible things. He inspires nothing a man who saves his people should inspire. He inspires fear! Pure fear!” David protested and then stopped walking, causing you to stop as well.

You looked the Durast up and down in disgust and you clenched your hands into fists.

“You only fear what you don’t understand. Just because you cannot see the beauty in his nature does not mean it isn’t there. You and Genya are ingrates. You should be ashamed of yourselves. He saved you, took you in, gives you purpose and a shelter in a country where Grisha are being hunted every single day-“

“And why are they being hunted now?” David asked sharply, cutting you off.

“Because they fear what they don’t understand!” You exclaimed, “Just as you do! Just as Genya does! My answer is no. I will not aid in your abandonment. If you wish to run, do so at your own risk. I hide nothing from my Darkling.” You hissed, squaring your shoulders as you stared up at David.

The mild-mannered man looked down at you in a sort of disbelief and then he shook his head.

“I cannot have you tell him what we have planned.” He said somberly and reached out for your arm, but you jumped back as quickly as he moved forward.

“I will tell him what I please!” You shrieked and held your hand up threateningly, the silvery light of the moon glowing just beneath your skin, “It would do you well to not try and stop me, David Kostyk.” You warned before you stepped back once more. You stared at him for just a moment longer before you took off back towards the sanctuary, running with intent. You looked back just once to see him running in the opposite direction. Frustration filled your chest and you ran even faster up to the doors. You flung them open once you reached them and dashed inside. It took all the self control you had not to scream Aleksander’s name, and as soon as you came running through the halls, Genya went running past you and you gasped.

You ran down the hall to your bedroom, your footsteps graceless and loud as you stampeded towards the room and you pushed the door open.

Aleksander sat in his chair and when the door flew open, he slowly looked up at you.

If he was angry still, there was no trace of it left on his face and in his eyes. Instead he looked exhausted, pained, regretful.

You let out a loud cry of frustration and you pointed towards the hall, out of breath.

“Genya and David are deserting!” You cried out.

That got his attention and he stood as quickly as you got the words out. He grabbed his cloak from off of the table it laid on and he nodded towards the door.

“Come then.” He commanded simply and he stormed out of the room and you followed behind him, your chest heaving.

He pulled his cloak on as he walked and then reached back to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him.

“How do you know they are deserting?” He asked you as the pair of you made your way outside towards his horse.

“David. He asked me to keep you distracted while he ran with Genya.” You admitted and Aleksander looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Then I suppose we will have to put a stop to that, won’t we?” He asked in a hum.

As soon as you reached his horse, he hoisted you up onto the animal and climbed on behind you and kicked the horse in the side, getting it to move.

You looked out across the clearing before you and you saw Genya’s head bobbing above and beneath the tops of shrubbery and twiggy bushes.

“There.” You said and pointed towards the distance, and Aleksander didn’t waste any time in steering his horse in that same direction.

You placed your hands on top of his gently and you let out a very quiet sigh.

“I am sorry, my love.” You whispered and you could feel him shake his head behind you.

“This is not your doing, I will not have you apologetic for the actions of others.” He replied and simply urged his horse on faster until the only sound you heard was the thundering of the animal’s hooves.

The two of you chased the girl up a few paths until you rounded a corner and he called out for her viciously.

“Stand and answer me!” He shouted determinedly.

Genya was cornered. There was nowhere else for her to run now that she was stuck between some old ruins and you and Aleksander. Your lover threw himself off of the horse and you stayed up on its back, staring down at him as he stalked towards her.

His hood hung over his head ominously, and the ground beneath his feet blackened in little tendrils, all radiating out from him. Genya was shaking like a frightened animal and her eyes darted between you and Aleksander in terror.

Normally, you probably would’ve felt pity for the scared girl, but all you felt in that moment was a white hot twinge of frustration .

How dare she so easily abandon the man who saved her life? The man who wanted nothing but peace for his people.

You stared coldly at the girl and you straightened up your shoulders, your jaw setting sternly.

Aleksander pushed his hood off of his head as he approached the Tailor and he looked around the small clearing.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked lowly, still approaching Genya, “I rescue you from certain death, yet you abandon me.” His tone was calm, so soft that it was eerie.

She looked up at you as if you might save her from her fate, but you simply watched her as if this was nothing but a show put on for your own entertainment, a silly little attempt at your amusement.

Her face became one of anger and she whipped her head towards Aleksander.

“You used me to satisfy a king. I should be your greatest shame,” she replied, her voice trembling just as hard as she was, “Please,” she began, tears forming in her wide blue eyes, “just let me go.” She wasn’t begging, she wasn’t asking. She was trying to reason with him.

She turned towards you and then she let out a fragment of a gasp.

“And you! Who have you become? You were my friend!” She cried and pointed at you shakily.

You raised an eyebrow and then let out a long sigh. You tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and you shifted on the horse.

“You speak of things you have no possible capacity of knowing.” You replied in an even tone.

“Please, just let me go.” She repeated, eyes still on you as if you were going to speak up on her behalf.

You weren’t.

“I’m afraid not.” Aleksander spoke, and you tore your eyes away from Genya just in time to see one of his nichevo'ya rise up from the ground at his side, “I need you, Genya.” He added, approaching her with small steps, his side half consumed by the cyclonic billowing of shadows that made up his new creatures of nothing.

Genya jammed her hand into her coat and yanked out a gun, and without hesitation, shot into the nichevo'ya. The misshapen humanlike form of shadow moved toward her, followed by Aleksander and she made one last look up at you before the nichevo'ya wrapped itself around her and she let out a gut twisting scream.

You averted your eyes from the scene in front of you and pushed down the little sliver of guilt that prodded at your throat.

She deserved it. She was going to desert you. She betrayed Aleksander, she would have gone straight to Alina.

You closed your eyes and took a few slow breaths before you opened them again and exhaled slowly. You kept your eyes on your hands now as Genya continued to scream and for only a second, you thought you tasted but a lick of the fear that compelled Genya and David.

Aleksander was nearly doubled over coughing when you entered your room. You approached him with caution to make sure you didn’t startle him, and you laid your hand gently on his back, passing him a handkerchief from the pocket of your kefta.

He took it from you very gently and held it over his mouth as he continued to cough. After a few moments of this, he straightened up slowly and lowered the handkerchief. He dropped it on the chair he was clutching onto and you didn’t dare look at it, afraid of what you might find.

His eyes found your face and he reached out for you, his hand sliding gently around your neck as he pulled you into his chest.

“I know that look. I’ve told you not to pity me.” He mumbled and tucked your head against his chest. His voice was hoarse and he sounded exhausted, but you let him pull you close nonetheless and wrapped your arms around him tightly.

“Aleksander, I do not pity you. I worry for you. Grisha do not get sick, yet you cough and are burdened with headaches. I have the right to worry. I lo…” you slowly trailed off and let out a small huff. You didn’t let yourself finish, instead, you pressed your face against his kefta and closed your eyes tightly.

Many of the emotional things between you and Aleksander went unspoken, and it had always been this way. You weren’t doubtful that he loved you, just as he wasn’t doubtful that you loved him. Nonetheless, it was a word that fell into the realm of the unspoken.

You never knew why.

Perhaps it was that it had a deeper meaning than just the affection you two held for one another. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to proclaim your love for him in verbal form. But he never did. Not in such a direct way. For you, not telling Aleksander that you loved him was simply because he never did either, but for him, you theorized that it was much deeper. Maybe it was because he didn’t love you- which you didn’t believe for one moment- or maybe it was because the last time he claimed love for someone, they were murdered before his very eyes. Or perhaps it was because the moment he said it aloud, he would give up the very thing that kept him impenetrable to his enemies: he would give up his supposed invincibility.

To his enemies, The Darkling didn’t have weaknesses. He didn’t falter, and he didn’t hesitate.

To most of them at least. It was no secret that you two were close, and Alina knew that much. Though, you didn’t fear Alina. Neither did he.

But you were his weakness, just as he was yours. You admittedly had many more weaknesses than he, your so few years on this earth leaving you with soft spots that had yet to harden. He had the luxury of having those soft spots hidden behind walls and steel and stone.

His hand slid away from your neck and up into your hair as you stood silently in your thoughts, and his fingers curled protectively against your scalp.

“You worry for such trivial things, angel.” He replied quietly.

It wasn’t trivial.

Not to you.

If he didn’t get the third amplifier before Alina did, you knew that his use of merzost freely would poison him until his heart finally did stop for the first time in over five hundred years.

You didn’t say anything more. You just kept your face hidden against his chest and you clung to him, desperate to have him as close to you as possible. Especially tonight. Especially after Genya.

The two of you hadn’t said a word on the matter, and you knew it was because Aleksander knew he’d frightened you, even if you did try to mask it with a replica of the hard facade of his that you coveted so deeply at times.

A knock on the door broke your silence and pulled you away from your wondering thoughts and Aleksander gently pulled your head away from his chest with the grip he had on your hair. He leaned down and pressed one delicate kiss to your lips before he let go of you and cleared his throat.

“Yes?” He called and the door opened briskly.

His unofficial right hand, Fruzsi stepped into the room and she approached the two of you instantly.

“General, Miss y/l/n.” She greeted with reverence.

Aleksander hardly acknowledged her greeting and instead turned his body towards her and let out a quiet wheeze before he spoke.

“The moment Genya is conscious, let’s take her and make sure the others understand what awaits them if they are disloyal.” He instructed and you bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want to be part of that.

“With pleasure.” Fruzsi replied obediently and clutched her hands in front of her as she bowed her head just slightly at Aleksander.

He turned back around and faced you now, reaching out to carefully adjust your kefta, straightening it and dusting it off just a bit.

“I’ll admit disappointment,” he began and then he tidied up the collar of your kefta, and though he was fiddling with your clothing, you knew he was speaking to Fruzsi, “I always felt an affinity for her. And David,” he continued before he turned back towards the other girl in the room.

“Morozova’s journal is missing.” She blurted and you stiffened.

The journal was the only thing you all had with the information that was needed to possibly cure Aleksander’s ailment that he’d dragged out of The Fold with himself.

His shoulders stiffened and you reached out to grasp his forearm, and though he didn’t acknowledge you, he was thankful that your hand was on his arm.

Your touch grounded him.

“Vladim believes David took it.” Fruzsi continued on, a look of worry ghosting over her features.

Aleksander didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds and you brushed your thumb soothingly over the sleeve of his kefta, even though you were sure he didn’t feel it through the thick material.

Of course David would take it. The one thing that you needed. The betrayal of Aleksander by two people he claimed to trust sent a stab of sickness up through your stomach.

“And with it, any possibility of understanding my… condition.” he slowly turned towards you, his face colorless. The same anger from earlier boiled just beneath his skin and his eyes seemed to glow with the same fury.

You practically cowered underneath his indignant stare.

His lip curled back just slightly and you let out a shaking breath, your hand tightening around his arm, mouth forming his name.

You had never been one for anger before. It took a great deal to get you to the point of rage, and even then, you kept yourself as calm as you could. You had to. All of your life, you had to. You could tell by the look in your lover’s eyes, that he reached his breaking point. There was no masking his anger now, his mask had fallen, and there was no amount of patience now that could compel him to slip the mask back on.

“Leave.” He hissed over his shoulder at Fruzsi.

The girl glanced worriedly at him and then at you before she bowed her head once more and scurried out of the room.

Aleksander yanked his arm from your grip and you gasped softly.

“Aleksander, my love-“ you began but he held up a hand to silence you.

You fell silent, your heart hammering anxiously against your chest now.

He breathed heavily for a moment before he launched his arms down upon his desk and sent everything atop it flying, a loud, mangled cry leaving his mouth. He turned his back on you and leaned up against the desk as he continued to scream, and you brought your hands up to your mouth, tears gathering in your eyes.

The sound of his yells and the clattering of objects flying off the desk made you jump and you stumbled backwards just a bit, a tiny cry escaping your lips. You held your hands tightly over your mouth and watched him as he lifted a shaking hand and turned it over, staring at the remnants of his and Alina’s shared amplifier.

You watched him in shock and you shook your head, lowering your hands from your mouth.

You knew very well of the tether Aleksander shared with Alina, and you also knew of the dangers that came with it. He loved to have the last word, loved to toy with the girl as if she was a mouse caught by only her tail and he was the cat that held her in place.

“My love, do not call on her, you’ll only grow angrier.” You whispered and stepped towards him.

But he already had.

You had barely left your room for a week now. You’d barely found the will to speak along with your desire to not leave the room.

Aleksander knew very well that he had scared you the night the journal was reported missing, and though he didn’t come out and apologize aloud yet, he’d spent a considerable amount of time with his arms around you. He would hold you against his chest and he’d coo sweet little things in your ears and he’d rock you back and forth like he was comforting a baby.

His guilt was eating him alive, perhaps more rapidly than the merzost was.

Tonight in particular pained him more than the others.

You were sat at his desk and stacked his papers carefully after arranging them. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t even mean to stand up so fast and so aggressively, but he rose rapidly from his favored chair and you jumped backwards, eyes wide as you looked up at him.

You stood up quickly and tried to play it off as just getting up, but he’d seen the way you’d flinched.

“Y/n,” he whispered and slowly moved towards you. When he was only a foot away from you, you looked up at him and gave him a watery smile and shook your head.

“No, Aleksander I’m just fine. It’s okay.” You insisted and held your hands out to dismiss whatever he was about to say. You knew the look on his face well. He was stricken.

“You are not fine. You walk on eggshells around me. You have ever since Genya.” He stated and you swallowed nervously, shaking your head in protest.

“I don’t, I promise.” You insisted, your voice getting stuck in your throat nearly at the end.

“What do you call this, then? You jumping at my abrupt movements, your newfound anxiety in my presence. Just seven days ago, I brought you comfort. I know this has to do with her and my outburst and I am sorry that-“

“No! No! Please, Aleksander! You have nothing to apologize for-“

“I am sorry that I allowed myself to act that-“

“Please, no-“ you cut him off again, only to be cut off in return.

“Will you just listen? It was no way for me to behave. Especially in front of you. Because if I don’t have your devotion and your trust then I have nothing.” He said firmly and reached down to cup your face in his hands.

His touch was feather-light and he held your face carefully as if you were thin, breakable glass.

“You have my devotion and all of my trust. It was just… new. Genya has nothing to do with it. I’ve just never seen you so… angry. It startled me.” You admitted in a whisper and Aleksander leaned down to rest his forehead against yours.

“My sweet little angel, I do apologize for startling you. Please know that my anger will never be turned on you, it will never be directed towards you. How could I be angry with you? You stand by me so adamantly and so loyally. That is a wonder. A beautiful wonder. I’ve not known such unconditional devotion.”

“That’s because it’s not only unconditional devotion, Aleksander.” You whispered and closed your eyes, your lips trembling under the weight of the words you wished to speak.

“What else is it, then?”

“I am devoted to you, that is the truth. But I don’t regard you with only devotion, Aleksander. This unconditional devotion you speak of is not devotion at all. It is love.” Your voice broke at the end and a single tear rolled down your cheek, “It is love Aleksander. Unconditional love. And I know you don’t wish to say that aloud, but it’s-“

He cut you off yet again, this time with his lips crashing down upon your own.

You received his kiss with a type of reverence that could only be comparable to the kind you give to a God and you returned his action by kissing him back. His fingers curled into your hair and held your face to his as he kissed you with the same reverence, and you could feel past his apology, past the shared reverence. You felt his sorrow and his fear and his devotion to you, all in his kiss. When he finally pulled back to take in a breath of air, he let out the tiniest cry you had ever heard out of his mouth and he clenched his jaw painfully tight.

“What have you done to me, woman?” He asked breathlessly, squeezing his eyes shut.

You opened your mouth to answer but you never got the chance to, because he spoke again before you could.

“I don’t fear things. I am the one to be feared. But I fear losing you. It rattles me down to my very skeleton. I fear losing you the way I should fear death. Tell me what you’ve done to me. Tell me what curse you’ve put on me to leave me in such a haze. Tell me why you have me on my knees for your love. Oh, I want it. I need it. I crave it. Oh, how I want you. I need you. I crave you. You are the light that belongs to the darkness. The Moon needs the shadows to shine. You were meant for me, just as I was meant for you. And oh, my beautiful saint, how I love you.”

You gasped at his words softly and he nudged his nose against your own, and you didn’t notice that you were crying until he was wiping your cheeks dry with his thumbs.

“When we win, when we get out of this victorious and I rise as King, I will make you my queen. I will have you for life. I will marry you, underneath that pretty willow behind the Little Palace, in the dead of night where we can be surrounded by nothing but shadows and moonlight. Isn’t that what we are? Shadows and moonlight?” His tone was hushed and it was devout, as if he were a prophet reading you his favorite scripture.

You brought your own hands up to Aleksander’s face and you cupped it the same way he cupped yours. You wanted to speak, but you weren’t sure if anything would leave your mouth except for sobs, so you let him continue.

“I fall at your feet, Sankta y/n. You are my very own saint to worship, and I will make sure that one day, you are the one they scrawl into the history books and sacred texts. Sankta y/n, summoner of the Moon. My love, my life. You are the one thing that makes me stronger while simultaneously making me weak.”

“That is love, my dear Aleksander.” You cried and he shushed you with a handful of light kisses over your trembling lips.

“That is love.” He echoed, his lips so close to yours that they brushed your bottom lip when he spoke.

The two of you stood in silence for a long time, and he wiped your tears when they fell and you brushed your thumb over the soft skin underneath his eyes.

Finally, he pulled his face away from yours and he looked down into your eyes with an intensity he’d not looked at you with before.

“I mean it. I will make you my queen and marry you underneath the willow behind the Little Palace. Surrounded and adored by Grisha. We will liberate our people and I will spend eternity by your side. My queen of the Moon, the love of my life.”

You nodded once, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards.

“Eternity sounds nice.”

In the days following your heart to heart with your Darkling, Aleksander had a Durast make you a ring infused with his mother’s finger bones. Your very own amplifier. He’d slid the dainty gold ring onto your little finger, too, murmuring the entire time about how he’d get you a prettier ring one day and how this one was just a reminder of his promise to marry you. And then he held up his own hand to show you his own little gold ring, sitting upon his little finger as well.

It was a pretty ring. Really. It was gold and made to look like a willow branch, fashioned after the tree he vowed to marry you underneath. He always was one for symbolism.

You sat and admired the metal on your finger while sitting atop the desk in yours and Aleksander’s shared bedroom. Most of the other Grisha that were usually around were out on a mission, and Aleksander was hiding out somewhere, using the tether to provoke Alina, as he so often did. The sound of metal clattering startled you and you slowly climbed off of the desk and walked to your door. You pushed it open and looked around the hallway. No one was there, and no one should have been there to make something fall, that was for certain. You stepped out of your bedroom and eyed the halls once more suspiciously before you shook your head.

“Hello?” You called out, expecting exactly what you got in return, which was silence. You stepped out further into the hall and you began to slowly walk towards the makeshift laboratory to find Vladim, who had likely stayed behind, not one for the organized attack on the Lantsovs. The sudden sound of glass smashing and things clattering to the floor made you freeze in the middle of the hall and you raised your hands up, the unforgivingly cold light of the moon beginning to light up your hands. The strong electric feeling that came along with your new amplifier travelled up your spine and out towards your fingers, sending a bright surge of light up through them.

Out from around the corner, Baghra and Genya walked towards you in tandem. Baghra looked complacent while on the other hand, Genya looked furious. You hadn’t directly looked at Genya since she’d been maimed by the nichevo'ya, and now that you were looking directly at her, you felt a small bit of pity fill your head.

“Stop right there!” You called at the two of them.

Baghra did. Genya did not. Instead, the Tailor marched towards you and you raised your hand up higher as if you were loading an arrow with one hand.

“Genya, I do not want to use my power on you. Stop where you are, now.” You commanded, standing your ground.

She did not reply, and she did not stop, either, until she was nearly three feet away from you.

“Look at me,” She seethed and pointed at her face, “Look at me and know this is your doing. I never thought you’d lose your compassion. Your kindness. But every single day that passes, you become more and more like your Darkling.” She growled and you shook your head.

“You are a fool, Genya Safin.” You breathed and then lowered your hand just a bit, “You are the only one to blame for your misfortune. And when we find David, you’ll be the only one to blame for his misfortunes, too.” You chided and watched a look of worry cross her face.

“You’ve lost your heart.” She said harshly and then jabbed you in the chest with her finger, “You have allowed The Darkling to rip it from your chest and blacken it. We grew up together, Y/n! We served the Queen together! How could you have just turned your back on me? I needed you!” She shouted and you lowered both of your hands entirely.

“My heart is as bountiful as it needs to be. Blackened or not. You betrayed and abandoned the Darkling, therefore you have betrayed and abandoned me.” You said flatly, gazing at her with the same look you’d give a non-compliant child.

“You love a made up man. He will never love you back. He is using you. The same way he used Alina, you’re just too arrogant to believe that you’re being played with. You are but a piece in his infinite game of power.”

She wanted you to doubt him. But you knew better. You saw sides of him that no one else got to, that no one else needed to.

“Don’t make me maim you further, Genya. You might have to find a strength greater than your beauty if you keep pushing me.” You said coldly.

This had her eyes blazing angrily and she reached for you, grabbing onto the lapels of your kefta.

You brought your hand up to shoot a beam of moonlight through her chest, but you were stopped, something cold and clammy tugging your wrist backwards. You looked up to see a thick tendril of shadow around your wrist and you looked at Baghra who now had her own hands raised. You furrowed your brow angrily as you watched the old woman and you went to raise your other hand, and in the struggle you didn’t even see Genya reach up to grab the side of your head until you felt her fingers in your hair. She swung your head near the wall and you pushed back with all your might, but she kept trying to make contact between your head and the wall. You growled in frustration and tried to fight her off with your free hand, but another shadow wrapped itself around your free wrist, and before you could even protest, your head was being slammed ferociously into the wall, and blackness consumed your vision.

You weren’t sure how long you had been unconscious, and furthermore, you weren’t even sure of where you were, because when you woke up, you were behind iron bars on a gravel floor. The room around you was dim, and it looked like it had been carved out from a cave. You went to touch the side of your head that throbbed painfully, only to find that your hands were bound and separated by a beam of wood. You let out a frustrated groan and you slammed the wood between your hands against the bars, but it hardly even dented.

“There is absolutely no point in trying, girl. You are getting a taste of what it’s like to be a prisoner.”

You groaned again and lifted your head to see Baghra walk shakily into the space beyond the bars in front of you.

“Mm, abduction is your thing now?” You asked sardonically as you looked up at the scraggly haired woman. A sharp pain shot through the side of your head where you’d been hit and you winced slightly, your vision blurring just temporarily.

“I wasn’t fond of the idea but sometimes we have to do things we aren’t fond of in the name of what’s right.” She answered with a shrug and she sat down on a stool about six feet away from you, and you loathed how there were bars in your way of tackling the woman to the ground.

“So your grand idea is keeping me locked up? And then what? I’m not the threat you think I am.”

“No, not a threat. More like… bait. But I wouldn’t expect you to recognize when you’re being used. You haven’t thus far, why start now?” Baghra droned and your lips twitched angrily.

“Your plan is listless. Aleksander will tear you and anyone else apart to ensure my safe return.”

“You overestimate your importance to my son.”

“On the contrary. I think I underestimate it at times.”

The two of you were locked in an intense stare for a long time before she finally waved her hand dismissively.

“Well, only time can tell.” She conceded and slowly stood up. She didn’t say another word as she exited the room, and you didn’t care to speak either, so instead you watched as she left, sneering in her wake.

You were unsure of how long you sat in silence in that dim little room, but it surely had been a few hours before you heard gravel crunching underneath a pair of footsteps. You looked up spitefully to see Alina standing across the room with a deep frown on her lips, and at her side was unmistakably her little orphan friend, Mal. You eyed the two of them contemptuously and said nothing as Alina approached you. Instead of using the stool Baghra sat upon, the girl knelt in front of the bars and she placed her hands against them, a sadness pooling within her eyes.

“I remember when you saved my life. I’ve always so admired you for that.” She said quietly, wrapping her fingers around the shabby iron bars between the two of you.

You didn’t say anything in return. Instead, you shifted your gaze to the wall adjacent to you and you shook your head once.

“Y/n, I know this is hard to hear, it was for me as well, but you are being used. You are being manipulated. You’re stronger than this, look at you. You harness the power of the moon. Our powers are supposed to work in tandem. We are supposed to work in tandem. Please don’t let your potential be reduced to just another thing Kirigan desecrates and throws aside.” Alina whispered and reached through the bars to touch your arm.

You shied away from her fingers and you looked up at her, staring her down as if she were as maimed as Genya.

“It’s okay to be scared. But I really need you to trust me.” She added and pulled her arm back to her side.

“How long have I been here?” You asked her, looking down at your sore wrists. Surely they were raw by now.

“Almost a week. We had to keep you unconscious until we were sure you were securely… locked up.” She said with a frown.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, laying your bound hands out across your thighs.

“This is ridiculous. You are begging for a death sentence.” You mumbled.

“Right. And so are you and The Darkling. Trust me when I say, we will deliver.” Mal snapped, and it was the first time you’d heard him speak. You eyed the tall, dark haired boy and your lips curled upwards into a little smirk.

“Try, otkazat'sya.” You challenged and you watched Mal’s face darken as he took a step forward.

“She’s hopeless, Alina. He’s fried her head. Whatever friend you knew now belongs to Kirigan. Just do as the old woman says and get her out so we can get going. She won’t help us willingly so she can follow us as our leverage.” Mal remarked stuffily and he crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes raking over you in disdain.

“And just where do you think I’ll be following you?” You asked rigidly, looking to Alina this time.

She hesitated in answering, her eyes shifting down to the gravel floor. You could tell she didn’t want to be in this mess, and neither did you. However, you’d be more inclined to be kind to her if her main objective wasn’t to kill your lover.

“We are going to find Morozova’s workshop, and you are coming with us. We hoped as an ally, but Baghra warned us that you might not be so interested in being an ally.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll have to politely decline. I will not be going with you.” You drawled and dug your heels into the gravel beneath your feet.

“You don’t really get a say in the matter.” Mal snapped and you looked up at him through narrowed eyes.

“You sure talk bravely for someone so mortal.” You replied and he took another step forward and raised his thick brows.

“And you sure act like you’re important enough for Kirigan to smite me over so perhaps we are both wrong.” he replied and you watched as Alina reached up and placed a hand on his leg to silence him.

She gave him a sad look and then shook her head a few times.

“Mal.” She warned and then nodded back at you, “She’s not the enemy.”

But you were… weren’t you?

It was probably best for them to keep believing you weren’t, though. Keep yourself unassuming and secure feeling.

You glanced down at your hand and almost let out a breath of relief when you saw your ring still sitting around your finger. The only explanation you had was that they didn’t know it was your amplifier, and if that was the case, you had to keep it that way.

To keep yourself unassuming, indeed.

The next few days were uneventful. You had spent most of your time on a horse, your hands still held apart. Your entire body was stiff and at the end of the day when you were allowed off of the horse, walking was a daunting task all on its own.

Hardly anyone said anything important around you, and the journey was quiet and awkward. However, the night before last- the first night of your journey- you had heard Alina speaking to Mal and Baghra when they believed you to be asleep. It wasn’t of much importance, but she did say that Aleksander had been the most unstable she’d ever seen him the last time she reached out to him through the tether. Baghra had assured her that they were not going to be stopped by him, but Alina seemed on edge and quietly tried to suggest leaving you behind to find your way back to him.

That was the night you had started trying to create your own tether with Aleksander. It’s mostly all you had put your energy into for the last few days, desperate to hear his voice at the very least. You weren’t afraid that anyone was going to hurt you. Alina wouldn’t in spite of her big heart, Baghra wouldn’t because you knew deep down she knew you cared fiercely for her son, and Mal… you weren’t sure about. But he didn’t scare you. If anything, he just vexed you beyond all reason.

The two others led their horses on foot while Mal was pulling the one you were on. He hadn’t so much as looked at you once that day. Bitter little orphan.

“You know, if you spent even half as much time smiling as you did brooding and being a grump, you might actually start to have the inkling of a personality.” You remarked down at the boy. At first you thought he was going to ignore you some more, but you watched in surprise as he shook his head.

“I’ll take brooding and grumpy over being The Darkling’s zealot, time and time again.” He replied, not looking over his shoulder at you once.

You rolled your eyes and wished you could kick him in the back, and you willed him to come a little closer to the horse so that you could. But he never did, much to your disappointment.

“I believe my feelings for him to be no different than your own for Alina. I mean, we’re both putting our trust and loyalty into something otherworldly. The only difference is, this side of the world has never scared me as it has you.” You remarked, feeling a sense of accomplishment when you watched his fist tighten on the reins.

He said nothing for a while, the only sound now was Baghra and Alina chatting ahead and the sound of twigs and gravel crunching underneath your horse’s hooves. You didn’t expect him to speak again, so you closed your eyes and prepared yourself to connect with Aleksander once again.

Mal’s voice stopped you.

“At the risk of feeding into your delusion, I believe that we are entirely different. Look, I know you aren’t a bad person. His crimes aren’t on your hands, Alina tells me of your kindness when she came to the palace. How could you have betrayed her after saving her life?”

“I didn’t betray Alina. I simply chose my side, just as she chose hers. That doesn’t… I don’t have to justify myself to you, boy. You know as well as I do that when you care deeply for someone, a lot of things such as reason or morality tend to fade into grey little lines that are easily blurred.” You remarked.

This time he really didn’t answer. And you were fine with that.

You closed your eyes again and went back into your mind, doing everything you could to find a way to Aleksander. You almost groaned with frustration nearly half an hour later when nothing had happened.

You both had Baghra’s bones as an amplifier. You both wore the same thin gold rings on your littlest fingers. Surely that had to be enough.

It didn’t seem as if it was, though.

You wanted to reach for your ring, but the bar between your hands stopped you and you frowned and clenched your fists tightly, balling them up against your thighs. You took a deep breath and decided to try again.

You closed your eyes slowly and focused on the band around your pinky finger. You focused on how it was cold, how the patterns on it pressed against the side of your ring finger. You felt a small buzz at the very back of your mind and you grit your teeth and chased it, breathing heavily. You focused on him. The thought of him, the feeling of his hand against yours, the sound of his voice, and the starless black glittering of his eyes. The blankness behind your eyes began to shift into something blurry and misshapen. It focused and refocused hundreds of times before the picture in your mind became the blurry from your shared bedroom.

Your stomach filled with warm anticipation and you took a long, deep breath and willed yourself into the room. The second you moved forward into the room, it was as if everything around you changed. You could no longer feel your sore body nor could you feel the horse beneath you. The air felt warm and soothing against your cheeks, and it was a different feeling than the chilly air that had been biting at your face for the past few days. Your steps were soundless as you moved further into the room and your eyes fell on Aleksander as he stood by his window. His hands were gripping the windowsill so tightly that the skin over his knuckles was pulled taut and colored white. His hands shook underneath the intense pressure of which he held the windowsill with and you didn’t have to see his face to know his jaw was clenched.

You spoke his name, but the sound seemed to get lost, because you didn’t hear it, and he didn’t seem to either. You felt a twinge of disappointment and you took a long breath and refocused completely on him, speaking his name again.

This time, you could hear it. It sounded like a faint, distorted echo. One that he still couldn’t seem to hear.

You clenched your fists as tightly as you could and you focused on the ring on your finger, on the man in front of you, on the very emotional connection you two shared, and you finally spoke his name one more time.

Your voice was fully audible to your own ears now, and you had definitely gotten his attention, because he spun around from the window and his eyes fixed themselves on you. There was a vast collection of emotions that flickered through his eyes, ranging from surprise, to relief, worry, anger, and then finally something else that you couldn’t name at first but you eventually came to recognize it as guilt and sadness.

“Y/n.” He breathed and strode towards you determinedly. He reached out to pull you towards him, but his hand only went right through you.

It took him just a moment to recover from the confused look that painted itself over his face, but when he did, his eyes flooded with realization.

“You aren’t here. Not really.” He whispered sadly, his big, dark eyes glossing over with a layer of unshed tears.

“No. But I’ve been trying to reach out to you this way for days, and I haven’t been able to. This is the first time it’s worked!” You exclaimed excitedly and then you smiled up at him.

He did his best to give you a proud smile, but you could see there was a heavy sorrow lingering in his eyes.

“Oh, you’re such an intelligent girl. So gifted.” He said softly.

You wanted to touch him. You wanted him to take you in his arms. You missed him.

“Aleksander, I don’t like being away from you.” You whispered and you watched him shatter before you with those words.

He closed his eyes and reached up to rub them with the sides of his hands and he let out a slow sigh.

“My darling, where are you? I will find you and I will bring you home. I will kill anyone who stands in my way; anyone who tries to stop me.” His face was almost pained and you frowned.

“I don’t know where we are. I just know we have set out to find Morozova’s workshop.” You stated.

Exhaustion started to seep into your head and you were finding it hard to keep the connection going. You knew you were not as powerful as Alina and Aleksander, and this was taking almost all of the energy and power you had, and it didn’t help that you couldn’t even use your hands.

“We? Who is we? Who is with you?” He asked sharply and he leaned closer to you. His eyes studied your face and he frowned, “Angel, you look so tired. You need your rest, this must be taking so much out of you.” He whispered and you shook your head.

You struggled to piece your thoughts together so that you could answer him, but eventually you pushed through and were able to elaborate.

“We… Alina, Mal, Baghra.” You mumbled.

He gave you a little nod and then he frowned even more. He looked as if your struggle pained him.

And it did.

Seeing you this way pained him more than he cared to admit, and the week without you had been one of the hardest of his entire life. It was as if he could feel every single second passing. All he could do is hope that his Grisha would find you, hope that you were safe, and then fantasize about how he would enact painful revenge on anyone who dared lay their hands on you. He would have his revenge on those who took you away from him.

“Darling, stop trying to keep the connection going. You’ve done so much already, and I am so proud of you. Seeing that you are unharmed is the greatest relief to me at this moment. Rest now, don’t exhaust yourself. I will find you, everything is going to be alright. Do you trust me?” He asked softly and gazed down upon your face.

You gave him a nod and he gave you a watery smile in return.

“Sweet little girl, you have made me so proud today. I love you. Know that I will find you. I swear it.” He vowed in a whisper and you looked into his eyes one last time before you felt the connection slip.

It was like a rope, pulled in two different directions being cut in the middle. Your eyes snapped open instantly and you gasped, nearly falling off of the horse. You steadied yourself quickly and you had to readjust to the brightness of the outdoors. You blinked a few times and looked around to see that you had stopped moving, and Mal was staring up at you, along with Baghra and Alina.

Alina looked a bit paler and she turned to Baghra with a worried expression.

“I knew this was not a good idea, Baghra. I-“

Baghra cut her off with a wave of her hand and she eyed you contemptuously, her beady eyes fixing themselves on you in an accusatory way.

“You, too, can connect with my son it seems.”

You didn’t respond, instead you jutted your chin out as if you were an indignant child and you looked away from them, gazing off over to your left.

“Foolish girl. You think he’s going to save you? He won’t give himself up, even for you.” Baghra said haughtily and you shook your head once, not saying anything.

“Look, we need to get inside.” Mal stated and then looked up at you, “But she can’t come. If she’s able to speak with Kirigan then she can’t be anywhere near whatever is in there. Then whatever we find out, so does he.”

You snorted and looked back over at the three of them.

“What was the point in bringing me, then? This was easily a three person job. I think, Baghra, that deep down, you did expect Aleksander to come for me. You wanted to isolate him from his Grisha out in the middle of nowhere, then you would’ve had your chance to stop him. But now that he hasn’t come, you are flailing.” You theorized and then you shook your head with contempt.

No one said anything for a long time. You knew you were right. They knew you were right. No one wanted to speak. Baghra didn’t want to admit her idea had been a farce, Alina was anxious, and perhaps Mal just had nothing to say.

But as usual, the boy finally did find something to say.

“Get down.” He commanded and you held your hands up and shook them a few times.

“Can’t really dismount a horse on my own without my hands.” You said in a bored tone, and Mal scoffed in annoyance, but his irritation didn’t stop him from reaching up and grabbing your waist. He easily lifted you off of the horse, and instead of setting you on your feet, he gingerly dropped you before making sure you were steady.

You fell onto your knees in the fallen leaves and the dirt and you winced. You didn’t have even a moment to recover and stand before Mal grabbed you by your upper arms and dragged you to a tree next to a large rock. He pushed your side up against the tree and you yelped, the rough bark biting into your cheek.

“Give me the rope.” He instructed and Alina hesitated for a moment before she reluctantly untied one of the ropes from one of the horses and brought it over to Mal.

You looked up at the tall, lanky boy and you shook your head.

“Just let me go. You don’t need me, I don’t need any of you. Please.” You said exasperatedly and he gave you a hard look before he pushed you down onto your knees. Your knee collided with one of the tree’s protruding roots and you groaned quietly, leaning your head up against the side of the tree.

Mal looped the end of the rope up underneath one of your shackles and knotted it many times before he tied the other end around the slender tree. He gave the rope a hard tug and when it didn’t budge, he stepped back and looked down at you with disgust.

You mirrored his expression to a T and then sneered.

Your eyes wandered past him and you looked at what seemed to be large rock formation on the side of a hill, but upon closer examination, there was a door. It was much like the stone doors you’d find at a tomb, and there were branches and vines shrouding the entryway. Small stone steps led up to the door and your three delightful travel companions slowly turned away from you and walked towards the workshop.

You looked down at your raw wrists and you gave the rope a few sharp little tugs before you let out a grunt and leaned your back up against the tree. You needed Aleksander. You needed to speak to him again. If only you weren’t so damn exhausted.

Your entire body ached and you could hear Baghra speaking faintly behind you. You closed your eyes as tightly as you could and tried to muster enough energy to connect with your lover once again.

You couldn’t.

You opened your eyes after a while and realized that you couldn’t hear anyone any longer, and you turned to look over your shoulder to see that Mal, Alina, and Baghra had disappeared. Likely into the workshop. You scooted over in the dirt and leaves until you were up against the rock and you laid your arms down on top of it and laid your head against your arms as if you were laying your head upon a desk. You stretched your hand out a bit and then felt something sharp catch your palm.

“Ouch!” You hissed and sat up. You glanced down at a rather sharp edge on the rock and then looked down at your now bleeding palm that had been sliced open. You slowly turned your head back towards the sharp, serrated edge of the rock and then you glanced at your shackles. You quickly rose up on your knees and leaned over the side of the rock and brought the middle of the wooden beam down on the sharp edge of the rock. You pushed down against it with all of your might and began to drag it back and forth rapidly, trying to saw through the wood. After a few grueling moments of this, you stopped and let out a little whimper.

Your wrists were raw and sore against their metal shackles and your arms ached terribly. But you had made some progress. The rock had indeed began to cut into the wood and there was a small split in the wooden beam, about one quarter of an inch deep. Staring at the split in the wood filled you with determination and you brought the beam back down on the edge of the rock and continued to drag it back and forth as hard and as fast as you could. Your wrists protested with every movement, but you didn’t stop.

You had almost gotten past cutting halfway through the beam when the scraping of stone stopped you. You quickly scrambled back down on the ground as if you were sitting there the entire time and you stayed still and silent. After a moment, you turned to see Mal and Baghra standing in front of the workshop. Baghra passed Mal a blade and you tried to make out what they were saying but couldn’t hear anything more than their faint vocal tones. You watched as Baghra cut Mal on his hand and he slowly turned and pressed his hand against the stone door, which slid shut. Mal jumped back, startled, and he slowly stepped away from Baghra and the door, looking frantic.

You turned your attention away from the two of them and instead looked back at the wooden beam that held your hands apart. You pursed your lips and you put the beam over your knee and tried to snap it, pulling your wrists down as hard as you could before you let out a shriek and stopped immediately, your wrists now bleeding from all of the friction against your raw skin.

You heard Alina cry out from inside the workshop and you turned to watch Mal dash inside. Baghra didn’t follow. Instead she came towards you hurriedly. She used the blade in her hands to cut the rope off of the tree and she grabbed your arm.

“Come with me, girl.” She said flatly and pulled you to your feet.

You complied silently and glanced at the severance in the wooden beam. All you had to do was wait for the right moment. You followed Baghra inside of the workshop and the two of you joined Mal in the doorway to one of the rooms.

Mal went to run for Alina, but with the hand she didn’t have on you, Baghra grabbed onto Mal with and she shook her head.

“Don’t break the connection!” She commanded.

“You said she’s not strong enough to face him!” Mal protested.

You looked past Mal to see Alina surrounded by an electric blue light and you widened your eyes. Aleksander was here.

“Exactly.” Baghra said to Mal calmly and stepped in front of him, leaving you behind.

You eyed Baghra warily as she grabbed a torch off of the wall and walked towards Alina, who was struggling against the wall, held there by the telepathic presence of Aleksander.

“I will end this once and for all. Once I’ve killed my son, my time here is done.” Baghra said sternly and tossed the torch into a bin of scrolls, “All this goes with me.” She finished and you let out a wail.

“You’re heartless!” You cried out, realizing what she was about to attempt to do, “He is your son, Baghra!” You screamed and tried to run at her, but Mal stopped you and pushed you down to the floor, where you landed in a graceless heap of limbs.

“You know what you have to do. And close the door on your way out.” Baghra said to Mal as the room began to go up in flames, “And leave the Moon Summoner here with me.”

Baghra approached Alina and you slowly sat up and turned to the shackles on your wrists. You had to break out of them, there was no question about it now. You began to slam the split in the wood against the rock walls and you let out a scream that was born of pain and determination.

Alina dashed past you, and you assumed Baghra had freed her from Aleksander, and Mal was now dragging her out of the workshop, trying to convince her to leave Baghra behind. The old woman now stood at the far side of the room in a trance, her head tipped upwards in focus.

“The Firebird!” Alina said in a panic and jumped towards the burning table.

“I know where the Firebird is!” Mal shouted, “We have to go!” He said and yanked her towards the door.

“No! Y/n, Mal we can’t leave her!” She cried and you looked up at Alina who was standing a few yards away from you, trying to break free of Mal’s grasp.

“Alina, cut your losses. She is not your friend, we need to go!”

You eyed her sadly and you let out a little sniffle, looking up at her. The room grew hotter as the flames grew closer to you and you shook your head once, looking down at the floor.

“Mal, she’s innocent, please!”

But her begging was futile, because Mal only gave you one last look, a cocky little sneer, and then yanked Alina from the workshop.

You heard the scraping of stone and knew that the door had been closed.

You cried out in frustration, tears pooling in your eyes and you banged the wooden beam against the wall, even harder now. You didn’t realize you were screaming until your throat felt hoarse and you coughed, smoke filling your lungs.

This couldn’t be how you died. You refused. But your body had different plans. Exhaustion washed over you, trying to pull you into its sea. You were so tired. Everything hurt. You were almost tempted to lay down and let the warm flames consume you until you remembered Baghra. She was aiming to kill Aleksander.

With one final burst of determined energy, you slammed the beam down on the jagged edge of the wall a few more times before you heard a snap. You looked down at your hands to find them separated. Still shackled, but separated.

Quickly, you scrambled upwards with a burst of adrenaline just in time to see Baghra collapse. She turned her head slowly and her eyes met yours, blood dribbling from the corner of her lips.

“Stupid girl. Though it will never be enough, thank you for loving my stupid boy.” She murmured, and you could hardly hear her over the roar of the fire.

You looked down at her in disgust and you shook your head.

“One of us had to.” You spat and then you brought your right hand up to your lips. You placed a little kiss on the gold ring upon your little finger and then you let out an ear shattering yell, bringing your hands together in a sharp clap that resonated even louder than the fire.

Silver light flooded the entire workshop and turned each flame into a blazing beam of the moon. You held your hands together and squinted to see, but within seconds, there was nothing but bright, bright light and then an earth shaking crash.

You fell to your knees dizzily, unsure of what just happened and your eyes rolled backwards into your head as you slumped sideways and finally let your exhaustion drag you away from the present.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, and you could feel a cool breeze dusting across your cheeks. Your throat was dry and your tongue was like sandpaper against the top of your mouth. You willed yourself to open your eyes and you stared straight up at the grey sky above you.

Your body was sore everywhere, but you couldn’t ignore the tingling, electric sensation that coursed through your veins. You weakly pushed yourself up and felt rubble tumble off of your chest as you did. The workshop laid in ruins around you and there were still little traces of silvery light, fizzling out slowly like smothered flames. You took in the ruin around you and you blinked a few times.

You did this. You had destroyed this entire cavelike workshop. You would’ve been a bit more giddy if you weren’t covered in bleeding cuts and sensitive bruises. A strange sense of pride swelled in your chest and you very slowly hoisted yourself up with a grunt, grabbing onto a fragment that remained of the wall to steady yourself. You looked around the mess slowly and your eyes settled on a hand that protruded out from underneath a pile of stone.

Baghra.

You stared down at her for a long time and then finally you tore your eyes away from her rock burial.

If she was dead, it could mean two things. Aleksander’s mother had killed him, or he had killed his mother.

With a grunt, you walked away from the ruins of the workshop and approached the nearest tree. You leaned heavily up against it and took a few long, deep breaths before you closed your eyes and reached up awkwardly to hold onto your ring with your opposite hand.

It was much easier this time to establish a connection with Aleksander, you simply pictured him in your mind and let your power do the rest. When you opened your eyes, you stood behind him in what appeared to be a tent. He was hunched over on his knees and seemed to be in pain, but you couldn’t deny the relief you felt to know that he was alive.

“Aleksander.” You breathed.

You knew he had heard you by the way his head perked up a bit, but he didn’t turn towards you.

“Sweet Moon Saint. Are you really there or have you come back through my head?” He asked in a low, ragged tone.

“I’m not there. Not yet. I just had to know if you were alive.” You said quietly and watched as his shoulders rolled back a bit. He never did turn around, though.

“Mm, alive, yes. I was very worried about you. My mother told me you were going to die for my sins. It seems ironic to me that now she’s the only one that’s perished for them.” He said in a deadpan.

“My love, where can I find you?” You asked softly and he let out a sigh.

“You sound terrible. You sound tired. You sound hoarse. What have they done to you?” He asked, hanging his head.

“I am fine, Aleksander. Please, I need to come to you. Tell me where you are.” You pleaded and he very slowly turned his head toward you.

“Keramzin. You’ll find my encampment. Please, please my love, do not leave me alone on this earth. Fight tooth and nail if you must, but return to me. You must return to me.”

“I will.” You promised.

Always.

The journey to Keramzin had been a brief one, and you were thankful for that. You weren’t sure how your body hadn’t given out, but after hobbling through the mountains for nearly a day, you came across a little farm and stole a horse from its stables.

After that, it was a straight shot. You made it to Keramzin in only six days and it was easy to locate Aleksander’s camp. You slowly rode up on your horse towards the camp, and two large Heartrenders ran towards you to stop you before recognition crossed their faces. They both bowed their heads to you and whispered your name.

Sankta Y/n.

Your hair was in tangles and your face was polluted with dried blood and dirt and your kefta and dress were torn and caked with mud. You looked terrible.

But you also looked formidable.

Perched high upon your horse, broken shackles still around your wrists, wounded, but sitting straight with your shoulders squared nonetheless.

“Take me to The General.” You commanded and slid off of the horse, landing on your feet, a painful shock going through your entire body as you hit the ground.

You followed the two Heartrenders through the field and around a handful of tents before you saw him. His back was turned to you and he stood at the precipice of a dead little meadow, and across from this meadow was a shabby home. Likely an orphanage or an inn, you reasoned. Fruzsi stood a few paces behind him, and as you approached, she turned around and let out a gasp. Your eyes met hers and she bowed her head immediately.

“You’ve returned.” She said softly, relief evident in her tone.

“I always will.” You said gauntly and then stepped past her.

You continued on towards Aleksander, and when you reached him, you slid your hands around his arm and fastened yourself to his side before you completely leaned against him, your legs giving out.

He didn’t even need to look at you, he recognized your touch the second you grabbed his arm. He turned towards you and in one swift movement, hooked an arm underneath your knees and lifted you off of the ground and into his arms.

Silently, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tucked your face in the spot between his shoulder and his throat, breathing in his scent. He wordlessly tightened his grip on you and he buried his face in your hair. The two of you stayed like that for a very long time, silent. The only sounds between the two of you were sighs, sharp inhales, and exhales.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Aleksander moved his face away from your hair and he gazed down at you as you laid in his arms, weary.

“I love you.” He whispered, dipping his head down so that he was close to your face.

You turned your head so that you could look up at him properly and you leaned up to nudge your nose against his.

“Aleksander.” You whimpered and he nodded once.

“I know. Never again. You will never be away from my side again.” He promised and you gave him a little nod, your eyelids growing heavy.

He watched as you fought to stay awake in his arms and he turned towards the crowd of his Grisha. He glanced at Fruzsi and then he jerked his head towards his tent, “Draw the Moon Summoner a bath immediately. Have an Inferni heat it. Get me a Durast so we can get these dreadful things off of her wrists. Waste no time, she is in pain.” He ordered and Fruzsi ran off in a frenzy.

Within only half an hour, you already had a Durast remove the shackles from your wrists safely and you now sat in a deep metal bathtub, filled with hot water. Aleksander knelt by the side of the tub and kept his eyes on you the entire time you laid in the water. You looked over at him and he reached up towards you slowly to tuck a piece of damp hair behind your ear.

“Aleksander, what did your mother do? When she claimed she was going to kill you.” You asked quietly.

He sucked in a deep breath for a long time before he blew it out and then he gave you a very small, very sad smile.

“She told me she was going to burn you alive, then she… permanently severed the connection between Alina and I.” He answered and then held up his right hand.

It was deep grey and glinted metallically in the low light of his tent. You stared at it for a moment before you looked up at him, a little frown tugging your lips downwards.

“I should have stopped her, Aleksander, I’m so sorry-“

“Do not. No. You will not apologize. You couldn’t have done anything. Judging from your state now and even when you called on me the second time, you were in no condition to stop her. I am simply grateful that you are alive and you have returned to me.” He explained in a soft voice and you reached out of the tub to gently take his new hand in your own.

You intertwined your fingers with his and you closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the edge of the metal tub. He allowed you to hold his hand for only a few minutes before he pulled away from you and stood up. You opened your eyes and looked up at him as he shed his kefta and a few other layers until he was only in his base shirt, a loose fitting black shirt made of silk. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and he knelt back down next to you and he held his hand out to you and nodded towards it.

“Hand me the cloth, my dear.” He instructed softly and you reached down into the water to search for the cloth that had been in the tub with you. You found it a moment later and then brought it out of the water, wringing the excess water out of it, and you dropped it in his hand.

He made a pleased humming sound and he grabbed your arm and lifted it up towards him. With a touch as soft and light as the silk of his shirt, he began to clean your skin with the cloth.

You watched his scarred face as he bathed you, and the sight broke your heart in the best way. He looked so serene and so peaceful, making his features softer and you swore you had caught a glimpse of boyish innocence in the sincerity on his face. The world had been so cruel to him for five centuries, and despite it all, he’d allowed himself to love you; allowed you to love him.

Your eyes glittered with tears and they began to fall freely down your cheeks while you watched him wash your arms and your legs, being especially tender with the places that had little bruises or scrapes. His touches were usually selfish, driven by his own need to have you close to him, but as he touched you now, there was nothing but selflessness behind his actions. When he moved up with the intent to clean your face, your tears made his face fall as he shook his head.

“As beautifully as you cry, I have half a mind to let you continue, however, the sight breaks my heart. What pains you?” He asked softly and reached up with the cloth to very carefully wipe at your face.

“It is not pain. You are my greatest accomplishment.” You whispered and leaned into his hand as he wiped your cheek, “You are the best thing that I will have ever known in this life.” You added, your lips trembling as you forced them up into a smile.

He stilled his movement and he looked down into your eyes and simply shook his head before he went back to washing you. Once he had finished cleaning you up and washing your hair, he stood up and rolled his sleeves back down. He pulled all of his shed clothes back on, along with his kefta and he grabbed a large, thick towel off of the table he stood near. He came back to the tub and held it open, looking down at you.

“Can you stand, darling?” He asked softly and you nodded. You grabbed the edges of the tub and very slowly pulled yourself up.

Before you could even step out of the tub, Aleksander wrapped the towel around your upper body and lifted you out of the water. Your bare legs broke out in goosebumps and you held onto his shoulders as he carried you to his bed. Once he sat you down, he readjusted the towel around your body and he knelt in front of you.

“You claim I am your greatest accomplishment. The best thing you’ll know. But you are mine. My greatest accomplishment, the best thing I’ll ever know. My peace. My sweet peace in the middle of the turmoil and chaos that is my long life. You are the truest kindness I’ve ever been shown, and whatever sent you to me knows I don’t deserve you, but Saints, I will try everyday.” He murmured and laid his head down against your thighs as he knelt before you.

You reached up and threaded your fingers through his hair and stroked it gently.

You looked down at him as he laid on your thighs and your chest ached with adoration for the man that was before you. No one else mattered anymore, how could they?

Alina had told you that you and her were meant to operate in tandem, but the sunlight is no place for the moon, and moonlight has no business with the sun.

No, you and the Sun Summoner had no business working alongside one another, because Aleksander had been right when he said that the moon needs the darkness to shine.

Moonlight needs shadows.

In all your life, you’d never imagined your death.

You’d never felt as if you’d die.

But you probably wouldn’t ever have imagined it would happen this way.

You stood by Aleksander’s side in the middle of The Fold. Alina and Mal had created a bubble around them, keeping the volcra out. Keeping the darkness out. Your hand was tightly closed around Aleksander’s and you held a bright beam of moonlight in your other hand, eyes fixed on Mal and Alina.

It all had happened so fast.

One moment Aleksander was pulling you against his side and Mal was shooting at the creatures of darkness that threatened to come in and wreak havoc inside the little bubble of light. The next moment, you were making eye contact with Mal. His face twisted in a feral anger, and he spun his gun towards you and shot it just as Aleksander dropped your hand to summon his Cut.

You didn’t even realize you’d been shot until warmth began to spread over your chest. You looked down to see the silver embroidery on your black kefta turning red with your blood, and that’s when you felt the pain. A hot, sharp ache bloomed through your chest and you fell backwards, head thumping against the sand. You’d been shot in the place between both of your collarbones, between the tiniest opening in your bulletproof kefta.

How capricious this universe can be, you thought.

Everything around you seemed like it was happening underwater, and you felt something shift next to you. You very slowly turned your head to see Aleksander on the ground next to you, clutching his side. He had been wounded, too. By what? You weren’t sure.

You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing- if you could even call it that. Every breath you took felt shorter and shorter and you were losing awareness rapidly.

It took you a moment to register that your name was being screamed and you opened your eyes to see a blurry Aleksander knelt over you. Light of pink and blue was swirling around everywhere and he pulled you up into his arms as if you were a child and he cradled you against his chest as he rose to his feet. The world became brighter and brighter around you until there was no trace of shadow.

The Fold had fallen.

You weakly grabbed at Aleksander’s kefta as he held you and your eyes grew hot and burned with fat tears.

“Aleksander,” you whispered weakly and let out a pathetic, weak sounding sob, “Please do not let me die, I don’t want to die. Please, I don’t want to die.” You begged, and you watched his face contort painfully.

He ground his teeth together as he looked down at you and his own tears threatened to fall.

“You are not going to die, do you hear me? Everything will be alright. You’ll still be my queen, wed under the willow at midnight. Remember?”

You did remember and you wanted to tell him you remembered but your mouth didn’t seem to want to form the words and your head didn’t move when you willed yourself to nod.

He let out a broken choking noise and he shook his head rigorously.

“Don’t you dare. Do not leave me alone on this earth. Y/n! Don’t do it!” He called and sunk to his knees.

Your head weakly rolled backwards and he grabbed your jaw gently, forcing you to look up at him.

“Please. Do not go this way, my love. It is not your time to go.” He whimpered and you shakily reached up and laid your hand on top of his as he held your jaw.

“You… are my greatest accomplishment. The best thing that I have ever known in this life.” You mumbled and gave him a weak smile.

“Your life is not over!” He protested and then he pulled your head up to his, resting his forehead against yours, “You are too young, my love. You are meant to live centuries at my side. Please, I know you’re strong, I need you to…” he trailed off and stared down at you as you cried. He wanted to beg you to fight, but the look on your face stopped him.

Your face was full of fear and you were shaking in his arms.

He knew you weren’t going to survive, and filling you with that false hope was not fair. Was he even going to survive? Likely not. He was a selfish person, but he couldn’t be selfish with you. Letting you die in fear because he begged you to hold on wasn’t fair. He couldn’t be selfish now. Not while you slipped away in his arms. His chest ached in a way he never wished to feel again, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to. He placed one kiss against your lips and bumped the tip of his nose against yours.

“It’s okay, my beautiful moonbeam. You can let go. Close your eyes, angel. Close your eyes and let go, it’s okay. I won’t let go of you.” He whispered, his own tears falling onto your cheeks.

“I love you. I’m so proud of you.” You breathed, your hand weakly falling away from his.

“And I love you, little love. Rest now. No one can ever hurt you again. It’s okay to just rest.” He said, barely above a whisper. Your tears and his mixed together on your face and you closed your eyes slowly.

With the last bit of strength you had in your body, you moved up just slightly and pressed your lips against his, and you did your best to muffle the sob that came from his mouth with your own.

A bittersweet smile crossed your lips as you moved away from his lips and you laid your head comfortably against his arm.

“My love, my life.” You murmured and he took a sharp intake of air to prevent himself from crying more.

He knelt there on the sanded ground with you until he watched you draw your last breath and he leaned down to kiss your forehead, painfully aware of all of the eyes on his back.

“My love, my life.” He repeated against your skin.

He very carefully laid your body out over the sand and rose to his feet, turning to stare at Alina blankly. He looked over at Mal as he laid unmoving and Aleksander held his hand over his wound as he stood straight up.

“Now… you know sacrifice.” He breathed and watched Alina carefully.

Alina eyed him and then glanced at your lifeless body on the ground.

“I believe you do, too.” She spoke in a firm tone, “And look what said sacrifice did.”

“Indeed.” Aleksander replied blankly, willing himself to keep his eyes off of you, “Look what it did.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she nodded once at him.

“Mal and I changed the world.” She said tearfully, a little smile on her face, “We tore down your Shadow Fold.”

“You have my sympathies for what comes next. When you realize that what you’ve done solves nothing. The world doesn’t need a Saint to protect it-“

“But you needed one. You just had to have a Saint. And look where it got her. Perhaps the world doesn’t need a Saint, but look what you have done to yours.” Alina shouted and pointed at you.

His eyes wandered towards you and he shook his head, holding his hand over the gash in his side caused by Alina’s Cut.

“Your Firebird did this. Not I.”

“No, she is dead because of the choices you made.” Alina stated, shaking her head just once.

“Choices you, too, will make in time.”

Alina jutted her chin up into the air and she balled her fists at her sides.

“I will never walk your path. And if you hadn’t carried her down it, she would never have walked yours either.”

“I know you believe that now-“ Aleksander stepped forward and let out a groan, holding his side with both hands, “But soon, you’ll have no equal. The years spent alone will grind you down, they will harden you. And who will be there to shield you from it? Who will be there to save you? I could have. Y/n could have.“

There was a long pause shared between the two of them, and Alina grasped his shoulder when Aleksander approached her unsteadily, still clasping his wound.

“I will save myself. Your legacy is already written. It always has been. No amount of love for or from a girl could save you from that truth. There is no redemption.” She gave his shoulder a hard shove and he fell to his knees in pain.

He let out a long, gasping growl, and one of his nichevo'ya poured out from his back, taking on a sinister form behind his kneeling body.

The creature grabbed Alina, by the throat and lifted her up and when Aleksander tried to stop it, the creature flung him backwards.

A blade came flying through the air and pierced the shadow form, sending it scattering into the air, and Alina fell from its grip. Aleksander pulled himself up off of the ground at the same time as Alina rose to her knees and he grunted.

He walked towards her and offered her his hand.

“You can’t control them, can you?” She asked shakily, “You can’t control any of it.”

“I thought I could control it all once.” He spoke and Alina eyed his outstretched hand as if it were a venomous snake and he continued on, a tear rolling down his cheek, “Find peace. And for a moment…” his eyes fell shut and he tipped his face up towards the sky, “I swear I did.”

He inhaled shakily and his mind flickered to you. Every little moment with you seemed to rise to the forefront of his mind. The first night he held you and lulled you to sleep, the night of the winter fete when you promised to stand with him forever, the afternoon just mere weeks ago when you two had whispered your first and most meaningful “i love you”s. Tears were steadily falling down his cheeks now, slipping through his closed eyelids while your sweet voice filled his ears, calling his name, singing him praises. In his mind, you weren’t laying on the sand with a bullet in your chest. Instead you were laying underneath the moonlit, starry sky with him, in a world where forever meant forever.

Not here. Not in this cruel place where you had to be the atonement for all his wrongdoing; the price he paid for the sins he committed.

This world was no place for you. He swore you were his Saint but as he imagined felt your touch on his face there in the middle of what used to be his Fold, he began to wonder if really you were an embodiment of The Moon itself. Graceful and beautiful in all endeavors.

He could hear you calling for him and he leaned forward to meet your call, further, further…

Until he could lean further no more because a blade had pierced his abdomen.

He laid his hands on top of Alina’s as she held the sword in his stomach and he looked up into her eyes as black blood fell from his lips.

“Thank you.” He mouthed.

She gave him one nod and withdrew her blade, sending him falling backwards onto the sand next to you.

He heard you call for him again, and you were closer this time, and he was ready to answer your call.

Alina stood over him and he let out a little cough before he sucked in whatever breath he could to speak.

“Alina. You make sure there is nothing left of me. But her… please see to it that she is buried underneath the willow tree just behind the Little Palace. Please. She deserves that much. Make sure she’s remembered as a Saint.” He begged, giving the Sun Summoner a little nod.

She gave him one nod in return and pursed her lips.

“For her, Aleksander. Not for you.” She whispered and he gave her a weak smile before he looked past her, up at the sky above.

“I hear her.” He breathed. And it was true. Your voice rang in his ears, singing his name.

“Go to her.” Alina commanded quietly, her voice softening only slightly.

So he did.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan

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