#//But would rather not want people to touch him so easily. Is decently okay with brief touches tho; like shoulder pats or the like

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya is rather touch averse, cringing away from casual contact people give him under the guise of being distracted or idle movement. He's used to it, the Ragnvindrs and Adenlinde got him used to frequent affectionate physical contact, but it can still be entirely Uncomfortable if he's touched by someone outside those he is close to or someone he's otherwise Allowed to touch him.

#hc; kaeya #//Mentioned before; but am Elaborating on other aspects since Aven get brain juices flowing for this #//Unlike Aven; he's FAR more tolerable of people who touch him unprompted. & more willing to indulge for himself outside his comfort people #//Unless he himself had actively given the indication he doesn't want it; in that case THEN he's likely to anger & retaliate #//But yeah; his response is usually Discomfort & trying to get away from it one way or another. Can tolerate it to appear friendly; sure #//But would rather not want people to touch him so easily. Is decently okay with brief touches tho; like shoulder pats or the like #//Will actively lean into it & encourage further touching ONLY as a means to an end; adjusting any wandering hands only when going too far #//Esp if he can use that like a carrot on a string–if they concede to what he wants; they can touch him more. Maybe MORE than just that too #//He won't initiate any touch unless he deems it Absolutely Necessary; WILL internally scream if they Immediately reciprocate the contact #//Uses it as a 'reward' sometimes; a little pinch of the cheek; a hug; getting right into their space; if he sees they'll react favorably #//Maybe more if they have connection enough; like Huffman or one of his longer-running liaisons. Is p ok w/ sleeping w/ them as reward #//Sometimes he forgets some people don't like that he does this; like Rosie. Tries the tactic to get a favor then Remembers #//Absolutely apologizes; feels mortified when she scrutinizes him for it. Esp since she'd be one of few ppl who KNOWS just how Averse he is #to it in the first place. Him slipping up like that in front of HER is smth he'd STRESS over. She could hold over his head for all he knows #//How can he even joke abt it? Worse if she asks abt his way of doing things or indicate she doesnt Like that he uses himself as bait #//Has absolutely accidentally tried to seduce/bait sb like that who he absolutely should Not have. Like Jean. Ended up playing it off like #a joke between friends; but damn near had a panic attack from the guilt the moment he was safely in his office. bc Jean is SPECIAL to him #could he treat her like THAT? How could he almost let her SEE that side of him? His casual charm and facade are ONE thing #//But him actively doing something like THAT; esp for Jean of all people; is COMPLETELY off-limits; no matter his feelings #//Actually; especially BC he harbors feelings for her. Ppl like Lisa on the other hand; he is VERY comfortable doing this with/to #//She GETS the flirty habit & dishes it back without losing image of him in the way someone he regards at Jean's level possibly could #//And as far as Lisa knows; it's Only a playful habit; not a means to an end. The ones who prolly Know might be certain folks in the church #//But that's just bc he gets frequent checkups after every lil Rendezvous of his. Which is why he's got dirt on Every Single Person There #//Except Barbara; but he absolutely makes SURE she's not the one he's dealing with whenever he goes. Wants to spare her his messes #//Damn; veered a little but it's alright. 'A little'; HA. Nah; my tags are but the cluttered corkboard of my thoughts jhdbfjdf #//Diluc; Addie & Jean are the people he most Fears finding out abt his methods. Doesnt wanna THINK abt how they'd feel/regard him after tha #//Knows for SURE it'd be painful if the way they treat him changes even a SLIGHT. ESP Addie; he can bear the other two; but Addie??? #//Nah; he'd be fucken DEVASTATED. That's the ONE person he knows hold true unwavering unconditional love for him; no matter what #//To do anything to damage that? He'd be so fucken GUTTED. He expects everyone to get fed up with/disdain him at some point. But not HER #//Keeps this shit on the down low by always having dirt on the people he gets Involved with; if not using keeping it up as an incentive

[warsamongthestars]

One of the most interesting things about TCWs Rex's character arc struggles is that, he's constantly put into contrasts.

Rex, as we know him, stands to be the main representation of a Clone Trooper. He's the first major named CT Character, that isn't Commander Cody, who doesn't have any ties to the films (Unlike Commander Cody), and thus can act and be written with far more freedom to explore.

[ You can't write Commander Cody too much by the end of the day, because one, years of expectations weigh, and two, he still has to shoot Kenobi at the end of everything. ]

Rex has two major conflicts in his arc, that represent the three defining points of clone troopers:

Loyalty to their Brothers

Loyalty to the System

Loyalty to themselves

Let's have some examples.

Our first major touch up with this, is the exact Opposite of all three: Sergeant Slick.

He is not loyal to his brothers (And gets a lot of them killed, whilst blaming the Jedi), he is not loyal to the system (He's a traitor), and he's not loyal to himself (He will make a lot of claims... which are unsubstantiated, because he gets a lot of people killed for purposes of greed and perceived slights).

This one is your easy Villain. Its easy to see, via Slick, that Loyalty to Brothers, Systems and Self is very simple.

But TCWs takes it a step further into complication.

Cut Lawquane, a deserter, is not loyal to the system (because it certainly isn't loyal to him), is loyal to himself, but is neutral when comes to brotherly loyalty.

( I say neutral, because he was willing to slay Rex if it meant staying free and his family safe. He did stop, because he's true to himself, and the self he wants to be isn't someone who kills people... Its just that sometimes, what is wanted, and what it is needed, isn't always the same thing. )

This is the first major bang up to Rex's Character Arc, because now we have a decent enough brother who is absolutely Not Loyal To the System that Rex is. And eventually, Rex lets him go, showing that while Rex is Lawful Good--he leans more towards good, whilst still retaining lawful plausibility.

This step slapped Rex, but it was a surprise he could easily, just simply, file away and not think about too hard. Deserting is going to happen when you're in an army of millions, and if they're off to be farmers instead of soldiers, well that's okay and a very nice thought.

The real kicker was Umbara.

One could argue that the Lola Sayu Mission should've hit Rex, but instead of Rex, it hit Fives the hardest (And with good reason). It's probably why there was an implication of a fallout between Lola Sayu and Umbara ("Just like Old times, Rex.")

And Fives becomes a contrasting challenge:

Loyal to Self

Loyal To Brothers

Neutral to Disloyal to System

Fives would bend the system until it breaks if it meant saving his brothers and more. He's the Chaotic Good to Rex's Lawful Good.

Rex is painfully upright and loyal to the system, so when one of his best and closest brothers decides "fuck this", it shakes him up.

Especially when Rex is finally confronted with how rotten the System gets: by General Pong Krell.

To contrast the contrast, on other side of Rex is Dogma, who is Fives' opposite. The Lawful Neutral.

Loyal to the System above all Else.

Neutral to Disloyal to Brothers.

( It does not help that Anakin Skywalker only recognizes Lawful as being Obedient rather than "adherence and or comfort to a code or set of rules" and thus draws more parallels between Rex and Dogma, than Rex and Fives. )

The Umbara Arc throws Rex through the whole loop, with all its conflicts. Especially the challenges it would make to Rex's whole character and showing him how far things can go.

Until finally, Rex finding what lines to draw in the dirt when it comes to "Loyalty to the End".

... But not enough to save anyone.

Then comes the Conspiracy arc, and while we don't know Rex's side, we do have implication of the aftermath.

The coverup of Fives' death (Because it would've had to been), by brother no less (Another big thing), and with the chip arc, which Rex did look into--would've put Rex up against someone he could not and would not possibly be capable of working through or against: Anakin Skywalker.

( Obviously for narrative purposes, Skywalker can't be stopped less TCWs became an AU instead )

Rex finds that his closest and brightest was labeled traitor and terrorist for his attack on the chancellor, via the very same bulletin points that Rex's character lives by, and it would immediately put him up against Skywalker.

The reason being, is that Skywalker is close to the Chancellor, and likely told Rex to drop any investigation.

And through speculation based on aftermath episodes... and What we know by this point...

I bet that Rex did not want to lump Anakin with Krell as a "System Problem". Because Rex worked with Anakin, and Rex's character falls in line with Anakin, and to consider Anakin to be part of the problem would go against Rex's character--thus, it is "unthinkable" and much easier to simply... Believe that Anakin has the best intentions.

( Even if that came at the cost of Fives. )

( Even though it would come at the cost of the 501st in the future--Rex only did enough that it would save his Life, and Ahsoka's, but nobody else's. He pays dearly for that comfort in Anakin at the cost of Fives, and the cost of Everyone. )

Moving to S7... and the Bad Batch.

Rex comes up against his absolute Opposite once more--in Sergeant Hunter, and the various Bad Batchers.

We've hit full circle.

Hunter commands a small squad that he pretty much lets do whatever, whilst Rex hangs on commands and commanding. Hunter is Evasive, Rex is Honest; Hunter gets stressed by Command, Rex does not.

Hunter is endlessly snarky, whilst Rex is straightforward. Hunter loses his faith midway through Mission, and Rex does not. Hunter's appearance is against all regulations, whilst Rex is clean shaven.

Hunter wasn't made for command, he just wasn't the stronger personality in the Batch to cause problems, whilst Rex is trained and made to command.

The one thing they do have in common, is loyalty to brothers, and the difference is--Rex doesn't hang on to anyone in lieu of the bigger picture, but Hunter does, existing in the smaller pictures.

( That's the TCWs implication-- If I went into the TBBshow, Hunter would not be coming out nearly as good. )

With the other batchers, Rex comes up against each one being individually against an aspect of his character.

Tech is disloyal to the system, he's as far from any sort of clone soldier you can get, and he's not even dressed for it. Tech comes in as a research first.

Wrecker is disloyal to self, bolstering about his skills and making light of the situation before it crashes on him. His disloyalty isn't a case of selling out--its a case of simply not considering himself in any measure. He puts others above him.

Crosshair is disloyal to brothers. He makes it a point to start shit in the middle of a mission, question authority, making disparaging remarks, and attacking a sense of self. The difference here is that, instead of accumulating falsehoods (like Slick), or physically attacking--he attacks the comforting falsehoods that a clone trooper would take on out of loyalty to brothers, system and self. If you're a brother, why don't you act it. If you cared so much for this one guy, why did you leave him behind. If you were that good in your little system, why did the specialists get called in. ( Crosshair is also a dick, but one can understand why he does things. )

Each Bad Batcher serves as a challenge to Rex's character. They are as far from Lawful as possible--but they are Good.

And then there was Echo.

But Echo doesn't serve as a challenge to Rex's character. If anything, Echo might serve as the "reward" for Rex's character arc. He saved at least one Brother, and one of his closest.

...

Unfortunately, Rex's full character arc wasn't ever really fully realized, because he is, fundamentally, a satellite character for other characters to bounce off of, even if those characters are other Clone Troopers.

( hell, Rex serves to contrast Cody, and neither of those too really had full Arcs )

Its why Fives took more attention in Umbara than Rex. Its why Ahsoka gets off scott free at the end of the day but Rex doesn't.

Its why when certain points of Jedi pop up, particularly that even our main character Jedi aren't really all that Lawful Good and do fuck up and waste a lot of brothers' lives for it, that Rex does not intervene.

Because, his character was never given that development to step in and tell someone to "Hey, stop, you are going to get people Killed."

A full Arc would've allowed that, and he wasn't afforded one.

A post TCWs Arc for Rex to get that Development, to fully understand all he went through and implement it into a new character arc, was implied with Rebel's Rex... but is currently unfulfilled.

( Don't be shocked that I don't consider TBBshow to count. )

But there ya go, a nice sum Analysis on Rex.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #tcws tbb arc #umbara #captain rex #analysis

[scoutpologist]

Can we talk abt how they plan dates for each other bc I think c!q would try to go all out for c!will and plan more expensive dates but Wilbrs would be more personal

OH MY GOD OKAY YOU'RE SO RIGHT YOU'RE SO RIGHT. EXPLODES

c!q is a very materialistic person. i don't mean that he prizes material wealth over anything else, but rather that being physically comfortable is very important to him. he really cares about sensory pleasure and getting to experience the finer things in life. he enjoys grandness!!

on the other hand, c!wilbur is the opposite. he feels most himself when everything has personal significance to him, when everything has it's own special place in his heart, either because he worked hard to make it or because the person who gave it to him was special. he's not interested in material value of his objects, just how meaningful they are. he's much more cosy!!

i have no doubt this would be a bit of a problem early on. if quackity is constantly making gestures with material wealth like gifts and expensive dates, wilbur could view that as quackity trying to change him or guilt him into something. if wilbur is constantly trying to connect solely through quality time, quackity might think wilbur doesn't actually care about him and is lying about wanting to be in a relationship. these aren't very rational things to think, but they're very reactive people with hair-trigger tempers and a lot of paranoia. this could easily be solved with a decent conversation, though, which i assume would happen, because wilbur would freak if quackity tried to imply he wasn't serious about a relationship, and would probably end up explaining himself. quackity might react worse to what wilbur could think, though.

after that inevitable conversation, though, they'd probably accommodate each others love languages extremely well. i can see quackity making a piece of jewelry from scratch for wilbur with very high quality metal, with important symbolism, or wilbur planning a really nice vacation or night out but adding a sentimental touch (like a meaningful location). i also imagine they'd both like more private dates, although wilbur would probably not shut the fuck up about quackity and the fact he's dating him. they could have been such a power couple. screaming

#ask #Anonymous #tntduo #wilbur soot #quackity #dsmp

[zerozerozio]

your heavy headcanons were so cute like omg omg okay now I know you probably get this question a lot but do you have any lee ones for medic? he’s precious

first of all sorry i took so long to do this!!!!!!!! im a rather busy man, mwomp :( and im so glad you like my heavy headcanons!!!!! but anyway, oh my GOD okay this man. and a warning ahead of time, i am heavymedic trash and there is a decent amount of that in here.

this man drives me insane, im telling you. he drives me up the wall in the best way.

while writing this i sound like a maniac in my head, im bouncing all over the place writing this nonsense down. there will be more of these sort of posts likely, this is just the first one. idk if i can get everything down in one post Hh.

So. Lee Medic. in this essay i will

overall hes a ler leaning switch. ler leaning bc hes not close with many people in a way where he feels particularly comfortable being vulnerable, but is happy to tickle other people (and he doesnt necessarily mind if they get him back, but many people would be too intimidated to do that.) with people he's close to cough heavy cough, he actually really enjoys it. being playful and letting himself act childish is really therapeutic. plus the sensation itself is somewhat fascinating. hoo!

he is a silly guy, we know that. he is SO very silly. for personal reasons hes also very sensitive. like he told me himself guys trust me

his laugh??? HAVE YOU HEARD THAT SHIT?? ITS SO WJANZHJAJZHSGS. FREAKING ADORABLE!! The fuckin "hooh hooh!" CRIES /POS???

Also, nervous laughter King. He's giggling before you even touch him. this goes for non tickle related situations as well. he can be seen doing a little "aheh" anytime he is a bit nervous in canon material. so naturally, it is reasonable to assume the more nervous he is the more he will giggle. back him into a corner and start wiggling your fingers at him and giggles just bubble out of him what a Guy

He will try to hold back his laughter due to a combination of being flustered, trying to tease the ler, and just out of reflex. he can't do it for particularly long though. plus he doesnt really want to, laughing is fun for him!

if he doesn't want to be tickled, he will say so clearly. whether he isnt in the mood (which doesnt happen often but it does sometimes) or he doesnt feel comfortable with the ler, he will easily tell you to Stop. and he means it, he doesnt look flustered or anything in that moment, remember he is still a dangerous mercenary and not the most sane individual so just do not push him outside of his comfort zone. and in general, he doesn't really like being touched by people he isn't at least somewhat close with, so he naturally wouldn't like it if they tried to tickle him.

touch is a very complicated thing for him. neurodivergent alarm wahh!!! remind me to talk about medic autism headcanons in general because as an autistic person, trust me. anyway not to project too much but tickling as a stim? like hes all happy and excited talking about some ridiculous experiment that went well to his Bro™ Engie, and he just skitters his fingers along Medic's sides and riles him up further. science friends, good stuff.

okay i have more to say but this is Long jdhahsjs let me know if anyone wants to hear more but as one last thing i will say his ears may or may not be ticklish and he will shut his eyes and chuckle softly if heavy kisses him there

#bryn's headcanons #tf2 medic #sfw tickles #sfw tk blog #sfw twords #sfw tickling community #medic tf2 #tf2 #heavymedic #red oktoberfest #engineer tf2

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Hello, I want jump into this torture Phillip bandwagon, may please I ask for headcanons for Aurora going into another sleep curse but this time Malfie wakes her up

Of course!

So it all started during a visit to The House of Mouse-

Everything was fine until a new sense of danger came around, threatening Aurora and others with doom

Everyone's panicking, especially Philip since his wife was threaten, and it was up to a lot of people to decide who will help protect the princess

Somehow it became time for Maleficent's trusted recruiter to watch her and protect her

Of course hardly anyone was happy about it but what other choices they had? Let her stay her in castle where the baddie would go and kill anyone who tried to stop them?

Now let's mix OG Sleeping Beauty and the Maleficent movies

I will say Maleficent and Aurora, though still nice together, maybe have lost some conversations and time together after her and Philip got married. Obviously it was no one's fault but Maleficent is awkward on things like this so she kind of tried to act cold but secretly wants Aurora and her to have that bond again

Luckily for her, the little princess began talking to her rather quickly and easily and the two's bond was growing again by the day

Another thing growing by the day as Maleficent noticed is the at first "I wouldn't touch you through a 40 thick wall" vibe of Auroa and Malfie slowly blending to a "okay you're decent" vibe

They would have conversations and bond sometimes throughout the stay

Before Malfie realized it was too late, he had fallen for her.

He fell depressed after that since it's a ultimate rejection on his part and he already failed in love due to Joe's contract with Ursula and how impossible it would be anyway

Maleficent sees him looking like he'll cry in the castle one day and comforts him, which surprised the bird but accepts the gentle touch and words

Once Aurora was back home she realized something was different than before and it was cause of her stay

Anyway no time to think about that and what to do, the villain cursed Aurora and everyone was heartbroken

Like Joe had to catch Malfie and hold him once he heard

After a long LONG while of figuring out they all found out it's a sleeping curse much like Maleficent's, but if she doesn't wake up soon she'll die.

So, yeah, no pressure-

Philip decides to kiss Aurora to help save her from the curse.

Everyone was shocked when she didn't wake up instantly!

They all were trying to figure out what happened, surely the spell's lifter isn't true love's kiss then right?

Malfie tried to chime in on the conversations only to be yelled by Philip which got Malfie upset

"Don't act like I don't care about her!"

The ones in the room were shocked silent from the tearful outburst of Malfie, he even ditched his mirror as of the moment

Philip glanced to Aurora and then let out a sigh before offer Malfie to kiss her

Of course everyone's like "wtf NO!" while Malfie was rejecting it a lot before Philip pleaded saying "it's might be the only way to save her.."

Eyes were on him and Maleficent gave Malfie a gentle rubs of his shoulder which calmed him down a bit

With everyone holding their breath and eyes glued to the scene, Malfie made his way to Aurora's resting cursed form

He apologized for doing this without asking her before he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against her soft gentle ones

The kiss lasted a mere 5 seconds or less but Malfie's heart was full of bliss that'll last forever

Or well...last as long as 5 seconds once he sees she's still asleep

Suddenly, color filled Aurora's skin and her eyes shot opened as air crept her lungs causing a small cough

Malfie quickly got back to her side and helped her sit up properly, the reality the kiss worked slowly sinking in his mind and he began to cry happily into her hands

People were confused, and the recruiters were happy in spit of the villains confused and even more confused of their recruiter's expressions

Time after that was difficult but okay

Aurora and Philip are in the process of working on something like a divorce and talking and Philip has allowed Aurora to spend time with Malfie when he's free since she had to time to date and grow when she married Philip

Maleficent is happy with the outcome in the end

Malfie feels bad breaking a marriage but is happy to be loved but someone like Aurora

Is Philip hurting? Yeah, but who would he be standing in front of true love? He and Aurora would still remain friends and have their kingdoms combined still even after the split

#disney villain recruiters #malfie #disney aurora #prince philip #disney sleeping beauty #maleficent

[boethiahsboytoy]

Helloooo there silly little MERIDIA KISSER/OC ANON coming on in to say 1: happy Valentine’s Day if you celebrate and/or even care about it BUT!!! Some RANDOM QUESTIONS!! How do your ocs (however many you wanna answer for) spend valuable time with their loved ones? Can be romantic, but it could just be with their friends, whoever you wish to answer for! Hope you have a good day and have had a good little while!!! :^]

I should come up with some silly little sign off that’s easier than “meridia kisser/oc anon” but whatever oh well that’s for later on lol anyways!!

Hello Meridia kisser OC anon !!! Happy Valentine's day to you too ✨️ I hope you've been doin okay ! Thanks for the question hehehe :3

Hmmm so Vyrthaal's favorite way to spend time with his loved ones is to make things with them. Either collaborative things, like cooking a meal together, or separate things--when he and Kili are grown n move in with each other, Vyr will often be working on repairing armor and weapons while Kili does his work as an alchemist. But even before then, with his Stronghold, everyone places a heavy emphasis on working together so that's the environment he's spent most of his life in ! I also can see Vyr and Serana sparring together a lot, especially when they become full time vampire hunters. Helps them attune themselves to how the other fights and of course keeps their skills sharp.

Vulon loves going Out and doing stuff. That can be anything from...the entirety of the Dawnguard questline to just walkin' from Breezehome to the marketplace! With Serana it also just loves to sit and talk while working on little crafting projects. And while it doesn't consider Miraak a loved one he was an ally for a time, and it loved learning Dovahzul with him, and sparring as well. With Lord Boethiah it just loves doing anything with them. Sparring is something they do often, but Vulon especially loves working on art while they hang out, and they often take the form of a lil snake to hang around Vulon's shoulders while it gardens.

Sethsa's preferred way to spend time with people she likes is to just sit quietly with them. She can often be found in her and Chal's room while he does Chal things, just sitting at her desk or in bed, reading or just resting. With Rune it's much the same, with him doing stuff and her hanging out, except he'll be sitting in her lap or something. She also loves having her hair get braided, and teaches Rune how to do it uwu

Jo'safiir is rather busy as the Arch Mage, but when he's free his favorite thing to do with loved ones is cook! He cooks often for the students, at least once a week, and Miraak always helps out. He's also a social drinker too, so sharing some booze is also one of his favorite ways to spend time with people! His secret favorite thing to do with Miraak is to cook him a huge whole big dinner, usually of things he grew up eating and are childhood favorites, and just share that with him. After thousands of years in Apocrypha, Miraak sort of forgets what food is like. He's touched that his husband wants to share smthn so important with him uwu

Varla, even if he wasn't a Seeker, would love learning things from his loved ones. He was always a bit of an Outcast with his peers even before he was outed for Daedra worship, but the few he got along decently with he'd love hearing abt their latest research, or pet projects, or that one niche area of interest they had. When he grows closer to Hermaeus Mora, he would often ask his Master questions he could easily find answers to on his own, just for the happiness of someone he loves teaching him something new.

But what about Your OCs :3c Like how do they express their love ! And how do they like spending time with their loved ones too? I love hearing abt peoples OCs and how they are w their loved ones (platonic, romantic, familial, whatever I just think it's SO sweet and fun🥺🥺)

Thank u for stopping by ! I love hearing from u :3 Hope u have a good day/night ! Also lmk any time u think of a different sign off/tag lmao hehe :3

#ask #anon #oc x canon #i fuckonge Love thinking abt my funky litle guys being w their loved ones and hanging out

[phoenixyfriend]

OKAY so on the topic of Star Wars takes wrt “character ends up in an A/B/O universe where they’re an omega, but they were previously a cis male in their canon”

@atagotiak and I had some Thoughts on discord

So, obviously, Anakin would make a good omega and he’s also incredibly murdery. Foregone conclusion that we're using him for this.

There is no preexisting Anakin in the Omegaverse. He shows up JUST as the war is starting. Canon timeline is in the third year of the war (he’s 22), but whatever dumped him into omegaverse also tossed him back a few years. No de-aging, just a bit of mismatched timeline stuff.

He's... really good at war, and clearly a Jedi, so the Temple just kind of goes "WELL OKAY THEN, SURE, YOU'RE IN, EVERYONE PRETEND HE'S BEEN HERE THE WHOLE TIME." The Jedi, by and large, don't care about omegaverse dynamics beyond 'what do you need, medically, to be happy and healthy' and 'what do you need to be aware of so you can be prepared for biases you encounter in the field?’

None of the civilian natborns (mainly politicians) want to put him on the field because of those biases. Anakin, being Anakin, is VERY blatantly an omega in scent, has never been on suppressants (because it wasn't a thing he fucking NEEDED), is incredibly emotional as a person, loves kids, etc.

Like, nobody wants an omega fighting a war anyway, but THIS one is like PINNACLE omega, and those awful Jedi are making him FIGHT just because he's good at stab!

The Jedi: Actually, it's because he's got several years of war experience that we don't, and he's a good tactician that works well with the clones-- Coruscant: You MONSTERS The Jedi: Look, we gave him the option to not stab and he looked absolutely devastated. Anakin, several days earlier: You don’t want me? I’m not good enough??? Jedi: Also he can beat up at least half the temple.

He doesn't know a damn thing about dynamics, but he DOES know that sometimes he's so horny he wants to stab HARDER. The clones are largely disinterested in their generals' dynamics because between mostly-Mando* trainers and no-dynamic Kaminoans, they only really care if a person can shoot.

* Mandalore approves of Fighty Omegas. As far as (traditional) Mandalore is concerned, you want an omega that will kill the threats to your children as well as you do.

Anakin: You know more about being an omega than I do. Rex: ...I'm an alpha. Anakin: Yeah. Let that one sink in a bit.

We have two options for Obi-Wan!

Omegaverse local Obi-Wan (beta) has never met this man before, and is very unnerved that the immediate default reaction Anakin has to his presence is releasing Family pheromones as if Obi-Wan is his DAD and like. This strange, too-tall man from another dimension has got absolutely NO control over what he projects in the Force OR in his dynamic.

Obi-Wan was ALSO transplanted from canon to omegaverse, and is also an omega, for contrast reasons. He is nice and friendly and and likes poetry and that sort of thing... but also he has the highest dismemberment count in the movies. Also he doesn’t prioritize romance.

We went with the second one because it's hilarious.

Someone watching them spar: Wow, omegas from that universe are terrifying.

As previously mentioned, now with some tweaking to account for both: Obi-Wan and Anakin just straight up don't exist until they drop headfirst into the council room, already covered in blood. (It's mostly not theirs.)

Nobody realizes either one is an omega until they "naturalize" to this dimension and Anakin goes into heat... and doesn't realize it, actually, because his primary symptom is heightened protectiveness and aggression. Everyone else with the right nose realizes, because the man has no control over his pheromone production, but Anakin? No. He just stabs. He’s angry and horny and he will cut someone.

Ahsoka has no reaction to human pheromones but basically everyone smells Anakin's "my child!" reaction to her, so... Cool. Have a padawan, we guess.

Anakin ends up sparring a lot with Aayla and Ahsoka, because only humans and near humans have dynamics, so these two don't REACT to the pheromones situation.

(Palpatine is a Kindly Old Beta who tries to treat Anakin the way he EXPECTS Anakin wants to be treated, which is. Not. Accurate.)

(Anakin hates it.)

I'm just so in love with "An omega can't fight." "You wanna fuckin' bet?"

There are plenty of omega Jedi, by the way, it's just... most of them can keep it relatively low-key instead of Anakin's jet-engine broadcast. Some, if they're known to be omega, probably take advantage of being underestimated, like Obi-Wan probably (and especially a version of Obi-Wan that was always an omega, unlike this version). They have a very different way of presenting themselves than Anakin, who's not subtle about being an omega and also not subtle about being all aggressive and stabby.

At one point, Anakin has to protect some Very Traditional Individuals who get all "Stay back, Omega, it's not safe!" and he's just... so tired of this shit. “You are squishy civilians and I'm a trained Jedi Knight and accomplished GAR General who's killed more people in one sitting than there are in this entire palace. Sit the fuck down and let me do my job.”

It starts making the rounds that Anakin insisted on fighting in person, and the rumors shift from "how dare the Jedi force an omega to fight" and over into things that are deeply hurtful in-universe in the vein of "broken omega" and some people try to say it to his face but like...

He didn't grow up here.

He doesn't care.

Say that to one of his friends and he's going to rip out your spleen, probably, but say it to him and he's just staring at you flatly and asking if that's a negative on getting away from the encroaching battle droids, sir?

"You're rather unpleasant for an omega, aren't you?" [deeply offensive] "I literally could not give less of a fuck about your opinion. Move."

It's not that there aren't omegas that act like Anakin, either, it's just that most of them aren't, you know, Jedi who regularly interact with the upper crust, or capable of his level of destruction. Unbeknownst to Anakin, everyone clocks him as Outer Rim based on his behavior, well before his accent gives him away, and certainly before he mentions he's from Tatooine, because Core Omegas Don't Act Like That.

Someone they meet in a more diplomatic setting says something decently passive-aggressive about how at least Obi-Wan acts more like how an Omega should. Then a battle breaks out for some reason, and... well. Anakin and Obi-Wan cause such a scandal by keeping score of kills in a battle, don’t you know?

Turns out sending Anakin to fight Ventress is great because she keeps expecting him to react a certain way but NO he's here to STAB.

I like the idea that Obi-Wan's favorite opponent these days is Grievous because the cyborg doesn't have a nose, and thus gives zero fucks about dynamics or heats. Dooku is a rich old man who has opinions heavily influenced by Sith Juice Making Him More of a Dick, and the Dathomiri can smell dynamics even if they don't have them, and so they have biases about those things. Meanwhile, Grievous is just there to Kill, and Obi-Wan genuinely appreciates the lack of commentary on his dynamic.

Dooku’s probably an alpha, or a beta who's used the whole "we are more level-headed" thing as one of several angles to keep himself the public face and supreme commander of the CIS.

On to more fluffy things that have less to do with political biases.

There's a lot of "I'm upset that my loved ones don't know me," but also please understand the appeal of Obi-Wan marching up to Quinlan like "Yes, hello, I understand you've been read in on the full situation behind myself and my former padawan. I was close friends with your alternate universe self, which I feel is necessary disclosure before I propose the following: Would you like to join me for my upcoming heat, as I have minimal experience with the dynamics situation and even fewer people I actually trust, and I believe I can put my faith in you to treat it as casually as necessary while still having control and respect for my person."

(The Team is in a fairly safe place to process stuff, but having sudden unexpected changes to your biology has gotta be a little traumatizing, on top of ending up in a universe where none of your friends know you and people have a whole host of unfamiliar forms of sexism to point at you.)

Obi-Wan, who wasn't quite touch-averse but was much more easily overwhelmed by physical contact than Anakin (who craved it), suddenly finds his body switching gears and insisting on cuddles with Trusted Loved Ones, which is.... mostly Anakin, on account of nobody else really knowing him yet. Also Ahsoka, who is aware that she's something of a replacement for her alt-universe self, but Anakin explained it as "I love you so much no matter which dimension I'm in or what you're like, and I'd like to get to know you the way I got know her."

(It's rather eloquent for Anakin. He got Obi-Wan to help him draft up the script for when he pitched taking on omegaverse Ahsoka as a padawan.)

Anakin gets a more intensely sexual heat than 'usual' at one point for Reasons (IDK it could be as innocuous as 'we got better food than the usual rations and my body is reacting to the higher fat content with the belief that it's safer to have a baby now'), which nobody takes a whole lot of notice of because they're in a WAR, and also this is only his fourth one so it's not like he's got a lot to compare it to... except then the predominantly alpha clones can't stop themselves from reacting to the pheromones, mostly by wandering past his door and asking if he needs anything, offering up alpha-scented blankets and stuff for the nest to soothe the hormones, bringing snacks and electrolyte drinks, and like, Anakin is flattered, really, but fuck off please.

(He got a warning from medical a few hours before it hit that it would be different, so he actually does have alpha-scented fabrics to help him out. Apparently that's a thing you can just ask friends for, so he asked Rex if he had anything on hand that he could spare. He now has one of Rex’s recently-used sheets and a bodyglove in the nest.)

(Anakin has no idea how to feel about the nesting instinct, but at least it’s warm.)

Tia asked "Oh hey, who has the scared and horny reaction to his carnage?" and like.

Listen. I'm not saying I've been low-key imagining this as Rex being a very subby alpha who's really into Anakin's whole Thing but...

At one point Anakin gets injured in a way that requires painkillers and he ends up whining to the point of almost crying about the fact that nobody is cuddling him right now in medbay and Kix just gives up and comms Ahsoka to come hug her weird older brother.

And Then There Is Purring.

That’s a Thing Now.

Rex ends up in the pile somehow. He came over to check on Things and ended up yanked in by half-asleep, half-high Anakin, who has a grip like an octopus and no impulse control and is purring like a pod motor while NUZZLING HIM.

There’s a lot of blackmail photos featuring Rex’s very intense blush as he’s cuddled by his commander (giggling at him) and general (clinging like a tooka and rubbing himself all over).

Anakin is deeply offended that ANYONE thinks he'd want to get pregnant by just any old person, NO he needs to fall in LOVE there needs to be EMOTIONAL DRAMA and if Padme won't have him (apparently she's in a relationship and no he's not BITTER) then he'll find someone else to have a whirlwind romance with!

People think Anakin's a slut because he can't control his pheromone production (he has NO practice and for health reasons he can't go on suppressants) so he always smells open and ready for flirtations, which Obi-Wan also has to a somewhat lesser degree (he's older so his body just naturally produces less), and then someone tries to cross a boundary and grabs his ass and ANYWAY Anakin has to now fill out an incident report for breaking a civilian's arm.

Again.

#Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Rexwalker #Quinlan Vos #star wars #the clone wars #time travel #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #phoenix posts

[vennylavey]

4NEMO Headcanons

title; Xia0, Vent1, Ka2uha & A3ther 4 YOU

character(s); xiao, venti, kazuha & aether

summary; "hey, the new finding nemo movie looks kind of cool and— BY THE ARCHONS, WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PEOPLE AND WHAT ARE THOSE GLOWSTICKS FOR?"

tw; none

a/n; i researched 4nemo not knowing i'd be walking into a bottomless pit. this is fine. just some headcanons before i lose my mind over the albedo fic again

VENTI

Meet Venti — The Windborne Bard!

An individual that shoots melodies and lyrics straight out of his arse. The one and only, the leader of 4NEMO.

Technically, nothing he sings, writes or composes are shot out of his very nice ass. They're rather exquisite, never failing to impress his fans.

But he's just so freaking talented. It's almost unfair.

So trust me when I say this man can single-handedly make tsunderes— It's an inside joke of the fandom to chastise Venti for his bashful mischief and tendency to get in trouble.

Oh and they don't even wanna talk about the Holy Lyre der Himmel incident.

Barbatos' most treasured lyre and Venti really just broke it before giving it back. Favonius Entertainment's authorities and followers alike pretty much busted a gut over it; Not as much as shining idol Deaconess Barbara did, though.

The erm.. rather violent scandal was sweeped under a rug later on, but the deaconess' fans definitely found joy in the brief glimpse they had of a side of Barbara they never knew before. Many have likely fantasized about it, but more on that later.

Venti co-founded the group with Aether and a few others.

Since he has the most experience in music and show business, he gets to be the leader. A decision begrudgingly approved by everyone. (None of them exactly wanted to lead, either. But Venti? Because, really?)

Now, contrary to popular belief — especially the members' — Venti made an excellent leader.

No one really expected much from him. However, despite Venti being infamous for his unreliable character, he handles everyone quite well.

Of course, there's not much problem with Aether. Everybody loves Aether! Aether can do no wrong.

But also, Venti can easily calm Xiao; It's this magic moment where Xiao is just about to burst, or when he's in a very bad mood, or when Xiao leaves the room to skulk, or well, technically, that's all the time—

"Xiao," Venti would call.

Then the idol would visibly freeze from his soft almost cooing tone.

And when Venti says: "Come here," Xiao goes through this whole process of softening under Venti's touch.

As for Kazuha, he was never the chatty type. Much like Xiao. But when Kazu did speak, Venti would listen. Considering how easy it is to talk over him, this simple action is quite the feat.

Over time, the others would learn to keep their ears open for Kazuha as well. (This is with Venti's advice, of course.)

It can simply be said that Venti can be mature and logical when he wants to be. Those moments were rare, but essential.

As for the times when he's not trying to make sure everyone is okay, he's a crackhead.

Although, no questions asked, Venti's the main vocalist. He's decent at dancing, and his rapping doesn't have as much appeal as the others' does—

but his vocals. HIS VOCALS.

Those who have not heard his singing voice are simply unfortunate, because it is the closest you will ever be to heaven. Venti's vocals are simply celestial.

He may not know much of his way around a rap, but he is nothing short of an expert at singing. Or harmonizing. Or bringing out others' voices by being back-up but your voice still shines through even as back-up.

It's amazing, alright? He's amazing.

Other than his voice, Venti's possibly best hook as an idol is his big personality. And let me tell you, Venti has so. much. per-so-na-li-ty.

Let's all agree that he basically lights up every room he walks into.

Also—

"Ya~hoo! The name's Venti! This is Xiao, Kazuha and Aether, and we are.. Is that wine?"

(There is definitely an existing meme involving him and wine.)

Aether sighs from beside him. "4nemo. Our name, is 4nemo."

(Venti is, most definitely, at the legal age to drink wine. And yes, he has most definitely sent emails to Angel's Share to let him advertise their wine.)

Venti appeals to his fans as a young feral cutie. He's adorable, and acts childlike in all his endeavors.

He totally can't read the room— or doesn't anyway.

He's unbelievably clingy. Loud, but they only let it be because he sings a lot and his singing is never bad.

"Even when he's intoxicated, he's cute!" his fans would say. (Though most would tell them that it might be a matter of the eye of the beholder thing)

He is just so wholesome. He acts like a child so often that his fans are expected to want to baby him.

In fact, Venti is so family-friendly that—

GODDAMNIT. NO, HE IS NOT

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME—" you hear his fans from a mile away— "WHY MUST HE DO THIS!?? VENTI NO!!!"

Oh, yes. Venti yes.

He acts all cute and wholesome during their variety show and vlogs—

And then the new music video comes out.

HE'S NOT EVEN DRESSED SEXILY—

But Venti looks as celestial as his moves are utterly enticing.

He's not as skillful a dancer as Xiao, but Venti sets that mood like he sets 4nemo's kitchen on fire 🔥🔥🔥 He's very seductive— he reels you in with those teal bedroom eyes. Almost glowing from intensity.

He argues to Aether: "It's the contradiction! I want them to feel embarrassed that they're attracted to me in that way when I'm so wholesome <3 And they can't really blame me! I was just dancing normally, ehe~"

His fans argue: "It's the gap moe."

Venti definitely plays a lot of instruments, too! Mainly the lyre, the piano, the ukelele, and the flute. (He's surely good at others as well.)

He definitely names all his instruments, too.

All in all, if you're curious about 4NEMO and came plunging for content from google— Venti will have you.

Hook, line, and sinker!

XIAO

Meet Xiao — The Vigilant Yaksha

A talent that has long been hidden in the depths of Liyue Qixing Studio's idols. Many fans know him by his title, but rarely by his name. He's been called a ghost, a mysterious entity— but no matter the person, anyone who watches his performance are always moved by it.

With that said, Xiao is decidedly the main dancer of 4NEMO.

He had always been dancing; But his first interest in the music business came from an encounter with Barbatos' music.

It was during the sort-of battle of the bands for the Archon's seat, and at the time, he'd been in a very bad place in life. He'd been reckless. Uncaring for his own well-being. And the only thought that had been on his mind back then was to assist Rex Lapis out of gratitude.

But when the Archon war ended, where was he to go?

Barbatos' music helped him out of what would have been a very dangerous mindset for him; He had danced to it only once. And he'd searched for him for so long only to come up with nothing.

The goal to dance to Barbatos' songs was probably what pushed him to join 4NEMO. That is, more than his fondness for Aether, he suppose— to dance to Barbatos' music was just another reason.

Sooooo, is anyone going to tell him that Venti is Barbatos? No? Okay-

Other than being the main dancer, Xiao is also the lead rapper. He doesn't have much experience with it, but his voice definitely suits rapping.

Kazuha guides him from time to time; And that was fine.

Anyone but Venti would do.

"How did I do?"

For some reason, Kazuha always laughs merrily before giving his criticism. It's not out of mockery. Xiao's convinced he'd know if it was.

But it must have been because of something he did— was it his face?

"Why are you laughing?"

"Hahaha, it's nothing, Xiao. Don't mind me."

Xiao, of course, would scowl disapprovingly at that. For some reason, he always feels as if he's being treated like an overenthusiastic child by Kazuha.

To be fair, Xiao has always taken the somewhat more responsible role when he's with Aether and Venti.

Venti will always annoy him, and Aether was more of a wild card— the boy switches sides as often as he smiles. And he smiles a lot of times.

So Kazuha suddenly coming in and patting him on the head? the head pats weren't unwelcomed but It's definitely new.

Xiao is also one of the visuals!

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, he's the most fashionable out of the four of them. He has a really good eye for styling. And his make-up skills are the best! Red eyeliner on the bottom lid? A purple diamond on his forehead? Exotic. It represents 4NEMO's brand so well.

And you'd think it would have been Venti, but no—

Xiao is simply a genius when it comes down to it. You can even see it in the way he styles himself!

He always wears tight-fitted shirts. And they're never not sleeveless— it's definitely so he could show off his green tattoo. Sometimes they're collared. Sometimes it's a high neck. Sometimes they show his collar bones, but this man.. This man never styles without a choker or any piece of clothing that hugs his slender neck.

Oh no, don't even get his fans started on the tank top, the back window, and the white shirt.

"Ooohh~ Xiao's wearing white for a change, everyone!" giggles an unsuspecting Venti as he plops down beside Xiao. "Ehhhh? Why'd you have to cover it up with a jacket?"

Venti vlogs their travels live from time to time. So Xiao just goes along with it after denying being filmed for so long.

"It's cold," was his fairly simple answer.

"Now, now! Don't be like that, Xiao~ Let us see!" Venti teases. "Right, chat? Xiao should let us see, right?"

Chat echoes a series of agreement even as Xiao shakes his head from Venti's mischief. Of course, Venti being Venti, ignores this and sneakily pulled on his jacket's zipper.

"Venti—"

Before Xiao could even scold him, the jacket has already been pulled open— and there Xiao is, leaning back on the couch and sighing in all his beautiful glory, a white turtle neck only covering half his torso open for all of Venti's vlog spectators to see.

Clearly, Venti did not anticipate the overwhelming aesthecity of Xiao's very toned stomach muscles.

So after just standing there in shock, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, Venti squeals in embarrassment, drops his phone and runs.

"AEEETHEEEEEERRRRRRR—"

Xiao takes it upon himself to pick up Venti's phone.

He winks at the camera, and the chat goes wild.

Safe to say, his fans (and Venti) are feral.

He styles the others occasionally, too. Especially Venti— his taste is unconventional, too unconventional, so Xiao tells him to save his creative ideas for fashion vlogs.

Xiao likes putting Aether in heels 👀

And Kazuha— well, Kazuha already styles himself just fine. Xiao's just there for a second opinion.

As for Xiao's fans, they are absolutely starved.

No one — and I mean no one— can ever convince me that this is not true.

There's not much individual content of Xiao out there; So his fans have to rely on watching other idols' vlogs if they want to see him outside of their group's official appearances, as well.

His fans mostly see him when Kazuha goes live; Both of them are super chill, and when they go on a vlog together, it's really just them hanging out in the hotel room while Venti and Aether are out, in which those two go outside the most as the faces of the group.

The followers never really thought that the Kazuha and Xiao pairing would be entertaining, but some do see their friendship as something holy and untouchable.

If his fans want to see him hang out outside though, their bets would be best put on Aether and Venti—

With Aether, Xiao is still pretty tame. And when they go to the mall, they somehow always end up buying clothes for each other. The people look forward to the choreography videos the most, though, with Aether being the lead dancer and all.

But if Xiao's fans wants everything to be extra comedic, they go to Venti. Because Venti does not tame Xiao.. He drags this man out of the cave and pushes him around to his heart's content.

Xiao may appear in Kazuha's vlogs most often, but he's liveliest in Venti's vlogs— and by lively, I mean angry.

Clearly, no one can count the number of times Xiao has been subjected to Venti's pranks and antics.

He's also always in the video when Venti mentions doing something to or with a boy best friend. (More or less, Xiao definitely has had enough of recording for TikTok with him as well.)

Oh, and comedy-wise, all fans of his should definitely have heard of that one vlog— Zhongli's video, titled 'Childe buys everything I put in the cart'. Everyone who shipped Zhongli and Childe says it was a date. And that Xiao was either Zhongli's Feral Child or The Prettier-Than-The-Date Third Wheel.

"Hmm, Xiansheng.. Are you sure this is all you want?"

Childe asks, deliberately ignoring the fuming Xiao right beside the gentleman. The man in question moves to nod, but Xiao turns to him sharply, so Zhongli respectfully waits for his opinion.

"I'd personally be pleased to see the perverted ginger's funds dwindle from this course. Even if it's only by a tiny margin."

Zhongli considered this. He turned Xiao's words over in his head even as Childe retorts and the two had both entered in a cycle of banter once more.

Then, he decided.

"Xiao."

Both men stop their bickering to turn to him.

"Get in the cart."

Clearly, it was just a metaphor.

No one near enough to Xiao would ever dare to mention the fact that after a second of internal debate, he had readily approached the cart as if it was a formidable opponent; Everyone pretend that he wasn't willing to do it.

But after such a bit, Zhongli proceeded to call up 4NEMO's manager and buy Xiao's time to advertise a donation event Zhongli decided to hold on a whim.

The rule was technically to buy whatever Zhongli puts on the cart.

So Xiao bought the cart for Zhongli. And Zhongli picked out whatever he needed for the event and placed it inside.

Suffice to say, when Xiao hisses at Childe whenever he sees him, Childe hides behind Zhongli and hisses back.

Anyhow, Xiao does have social media. He never uses them.

He never tweets.

(If he does, IT'S SO OUT OF CONTEXT I- Every tweet has 5k or more replies, and everyone is making up these elaborate stories - EVEN THREADS - as to why he would say this.)

So it's less like he 'never' tweets, and more like he tweets so randomly.

At one point, he retweeted cats because Kazuha liked them.

"Kazuha, Aether. Go to, after lunch." He captioned.

He doesn't know how to bookmark or screenshot. This man literally uses twitter to write his schedule, I'm crying

Right after the cat thing, his next tweet is an apology to Venti, because Venti DEFINITELY made a thread about being left out.

"I'm sorry, Venti. But you're allergic to cats."

He posts his practice dances once every three weeks. And he goes live once a month.. or a month and a half.

When I tell you his fans are crying, they absolutely are. Especially those who have a completely different time zone.

It's not too much of a hassle once the newbies get used to it, though. They love him all the same. And their bitterness disappears whenever he goes live—

"..."

Xiao stares at the camera in silence, lips pressed together, and cheeks decidedly very red.

All his fans know, after all, that Xiao may be polite and courteous, but he's also quite awkward. The fact that he doesn't try to be his usually distant and polite self when he goes live speaks volumes.

Xiao treasures his fans a lot. So he tries to be more outgoing for them.

"I brought my flute today. Would you like to hear me play it?"

In short, Xiao makes a lot of his fans wait— but he's very meticulous. And every time he does feed them content, the wait would always be worth it.

( P. S. - A number of his fans definitely make threads about how sweet and gentle he is under the deceivingly grouchy exterior. )

KAZUHA

Meet Kazuha — The Maple Leaf Rebel

(The amount of research I have to do for this man—)

Soon.

AETHER

Meet Aether — The Force of Sunshine

Soon.

idol au concept originated from @/veechu_

first art above is by @/Kackaorz1

venti art by @/rome_romedo

xiao art by @/siraisi00

kazuha art by @/creadbrumbs

aether art by @/ventuspluma

All these people can be found on twitter! Go give them a follow because the art and the anemo boys content is immaculate.

#sncrly.4nemo #sncrly.idolau #sncrly.headcanons #sncrly.venti #sncrly.xiao #sncrly.kazuha #sncrly.aether #genshin impact #genshin idol au #genshin headcanons #4nemo #genshin ff #genshin venti #genshin xiao #genshin kazuha #genshin aether #genshin fluff #venti headcanons #xiao headcanons #kazuha headcanons #aether headcanons #xiaoven #kazuxiao #xiaother #is the narrator reliable #probably not #this was sitting in my drafts for months #I CAME BACK AND I WANTED TO POST LOL #will it be continued #to continue or not to continue that is the question

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tubbo tommy ranboo and george - trampolines and chaos

this is part 13 to the great adventures series

an: so it’s very clear y/ns love language is spending time with people and physical touch, all love mentioned is platonic

you and ranboo settled in rather quickly. However, there was good and bad news the bad news was you both had to isolate which meant when tubbo would go out with the others the pair of you couldn’t go the good news however, was that it would only be for a week and that you could both spend a lot of time together catching up and talking about anything that came to mind making the pair of you grow close. the pair of you would work on the scrapbook with tubbo, this was your favourite thing to do as ranboo would add his own twist to it and often came up with new ideas, you would both stream together for your twitch channel when tubbo was out and when he would come home you would all stream on ranboos channel. you often found yourself helping ranboo film videos for youtube or help him cook when tubbo was streaming. since you shared a room with ranboo every night you would sit on the couch pulling him close so you could play with his hair whilst a random film would play in the background, today was no different you sat on the couch and put bo Burnham's inside on whilst you waited for him to walk over with a blanket so he could sit in between your legs letting you play with his hair

“your hair got long boo…I’m going to try and plait some of it”

“I couldn’t get a hair cut and you know this”

you laughed quietly to yourself continuing to plait some of his hair he would occasionally sigh and pretend he didn’t like it but it was pretty obvious that he was beginning to relax under your touch, you continued plaiting his hair listening to him quietly sing along to the songs. it was moments like this you both loved and appreciated but would never tell anyone that it happened. it was your little secret.

after five days passed you and ranboo were free to go meet with others again meaning you could finally go out and film the trampoline vlog for tommys channel which you spent the last five days planning. safe to say you were excited, you hadn’t been to a trampoline park in a while. you woke ranboo up at 10 am you didn’t need to worry about tubbo as you heard him walking around talking to his phone it took a few minutes to realise he was doing a Twitter space. tubbo sent you a message earlier to let you know that there was a package for you near the door so once you got ready you went to grab it, inside was a couple of shirts, hoodies and hats from your sample merch you were honestly amazed. ranboo walked up to you grabbing one of the shirts and a hoodie.

“y/n these look great wow”

“I got a couple of each size, find the sizes you want and they’re yours”

a few minutes later ranboo walked back into the room wearing your merch

“mind if I wear it for the vlog”

“of course you can ill be showing it on stream later”

and with that you all made your way to the tubbo and began your journey to the trampoline park, it was a relatively quick trip the three of you spent the entire trip talking about stream and youtube ideas.

as soon as Tommy saw you all walk into the trampoline park he ran over tackling you all into a hug

“Hey guys, how have you been! we’re just waiting for George”

“speak of the devil he’s just arrived..ranboo I am not an armrest”

“sorry y/n it’s not my fault that you’re the perfect height to be one”

a few minutes later you all made your way to the trampolines. this is where the chaos began you all didn’t know where to begin, excitement took over and safety when out the window. you and ranboo challenged each other to see who could jump higher

“CATCH ME RANBOO”

“HUH Y/N”

you jumped from the trampoline you were on into ranboos arms (luckily as if he didn’t catch you, you would have fallen)

“thank you boo”

Tommy dragged you all the area where you had to try and hit the person opposite you off of the plank, you stood laughing as tubbo instantly hit Tommy making him fall

“boooo”

“I’d like to see you do better y/n”

“bet..tubbo get back on”

the pair of you put up a decent fight, Tommy ended up distracting tubbo which allowed you to win, you then went against George and won then ranboo decided to go against you

“…haha hey boo looking awfully tall today”

“you look awfully short today”

you then tried and failed to make him fall ranboo on the other hand was able to make you lose your balance however you weren’t going down on your own so you dragged him down with you. after that you stood in awe watching tubbo do tricks on the trampoline

“look at him go he’s like a gazelle”

“I'm sorry ranboo what gazelles have you been watching”

“you don’t know what I’ve seen y/n”

you laughed as Tommy went up next claiming that he could also do that…he couldn’t.

George noticed a box and attempted to jump over it followed by you who only just managed to jump over it as you got distracted on the run-up, up next was tubbo who jumped over it, Tommy tried to jump over it but ended up rolling over it you stood shaking your head as ranboo went next unsurprisingly he jumped over it easily then lied down on the box

“Hey how’s it going”

you and Tommy had the same idea

“we’re going to jump over you ranboo”

“oh no please don’t- OH GOD”

so you and Tommy failed to jump over him and crashed into him

“hey boo-“

“that didn’t go to plan”

“no, it didn’t”

you and Tommy got up and decided to lie down with him you noticed tubbo at the run-up getting ready to jump over the three of you, you all screamed as tubbo successfully jumped over thou all

“holy shit”

“oooohhhh”

“didn’t doubt you for a minute tubs”

you got up and went over to George who seemed to be having a lovely time on the trampolines, you heard screaming in the background and turned around to see ranboo chasing Tommy who decided that the safest option would be to run headfirst into the wall

“what the fuck is up with him”

you all stood on the inflatable safety hazard not knowing which way it was going to turn, this didn’t go well for any of you as everyone but ranboo (because he was filming) was instantly hit by the inflatable you ended up on the floor you looked up to see ranboo looking down at you

“don’t look at me like that boo”

“you really do amaze me”

“I put a rock in your pocket”

“no- what how”

you couldn’t contain your laughter as ranboo pulled out a rock which you did indeed place in his pocket sometime during the trip. you all decided to try again on the inflatable this time it went slightly better…for less than 30 seconds you got hit and dragged over to tubbo and George who had also been hit

“Hello boys”

a few minutes later you tubbo and ranboo tried again this time it went well for you, you managed to pay attention and ignore ranboo who was shouting that he will beat the machine. well, it went well till ranboo got hit as you found it hilarious which ended up being your downfall as you got distracted.

you all decided to have a totally safe game of dodgeball

“guys it’s like mcc”

you and ranboo looked at each other before yelling about how you both wouldn’t know, you decided to aim at tubbo who was focusing on Tommy which allowed you to hit him multiple times

“Y/N I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS”

you made your way over to him tackling him resulting in you both falling

“We are bee boy”

“I hate you”

“love you too”

after helping tubbo up and aiming at Tommy you heard ranboo yelling

“I just got hit in the balls by tubbo...OW AND Y/N THANKS A LOT”

“you’re welcome my beloved”

you sat with ranboo as the others continued to play dodgeball, he tapped your thigh to get your attention, you turned your head to see him holding part of his glasses

“your other pair is in my bag I’ll go get them”

“I’ll come with you”

after ranboo told the others the pair of you made your way to your bag

“thank you y/n…how did you know I’d break them”

“tubbo and I both carry a spare pair on us just in case. we went out to get them on our way to the airport”

the pair of you made your way to the others who were now stood waiting for you

“Woah what the fuck is this”

tubbo tapped your shoulder and whispered that someone is on their way to explain what it was, a few minutes later one of the workers came over and explained how it works and what to do, you all watched Tommy go up you tubbo and ranboo constantly made jokes about him the entire time, you continued to do this as tubbo went up

“can I clickbait this if you die”

“oooh can i”

ranboo went next you and tubbo both tried to hit him with the dodgeballs from earlier however you both missed you watched as ranboo slid down and looked at you

“sup”

“oh god I’m next”

you went next the entire time you made comments about not letting go

“what if I don’t let go”

“I will personally drag you down”

you looked down to see Tommy pretending to get ready to drag you down

“NO TOMMY”

and with that, you let go

“Hello boys that go fast doesn't it”

George went next and screamed the entire way down you and tubbo looked at each other questioning if you heard the same thing before looking back at George

“Are you okay”

one at a time you all jumped off of the mini wall onto the soft landing below, Tommy landed funny accidentally hurting himself

“Tommy I love you but you’re an idiot”

ranboo went next landing in the same pose as before

“sup”

“stylish..real stylish”

tubbo pushed you off before you even had the chance to jump

“TUBBO I SWEAR TO GOD”

“REVENGE FOR HITTING ME IN DODGEBALL”

the others sat down looking up at you and ranboo who was now stood on the wall looking down on them

“jump”

“okay”

“wait what”

ranboo grabbed your hand and jumped off onto the landing taking you down with him

“Why does this always happen to me why not George or Tommy”

Tommy ran off after asking you all if you all thought he could request a song as he returned you could hear mask beginning to play and Tommy trying to sing along whilst running over to you all. you all then spent a good while messing on the trampolines so Tommy had footage to use for a montage after that you all made your way to some chairs so you could have a minute to relax and have a drink. you sat next to tubbo trying not to laugh as you watched ranboo attempt to drink the water through his mask

“oh wait did you just-“

“now your mask is going to be wet”

tubbo and Tommy ended up running off to get more content for the vlog and George ended up walking off somewhere, ranboo looked at you before welcoming you with open arms, the two of you sat in each other’s embrace watching Tommy and tubbo run around the park.

“you doing okay boo”

“I’m alright a little hot”

“that’s expected I mean you’re literally wearing a hoodie and mask with glasses I’m surprised you can even see when you're on the trampolines”

“I can't”

the two of you sat talking for a few more minutes before going back to the trampolines running, jumping and falling over. 10 minutes later you sat with Tommy watching George definitely do something on the floor, you weren’t quite sure what he was trying to do

“wooo go, George”

“thank you y/n”

at this point, it was clear you were all getting tired you all went off to buy a slush before sitting back down in the chairs you were making your way to sit with tubbo however your dear friend ranboo pulled you down to sit with him

“oh hello”

“hi y/n”

“I have a slush”

“as do i “

before you could speak again you heard Tommy and George messing with a walkie talkie, you sat looking at the two of them not realising that ranboo also had one

“give us more trampolines”

“hi George”

as you didn’t expect this you jumped slightly making ranboo turn his head and laugh

“Jesus christ when did you get that”

“well tubbo gave me it I was going to tell you but I wanted to scare you y/n”

after cooling down you all went to the play area, you found a slide and ran to it ranboo not far behind

“y/n wait for me we can go down together”

“okay go behind me”

ranboo got on behind you and held onto your waist so you didn’t go down without him. Tommy noticed this and wanted to join the chain

“We can go down together”

“alright hop on”

“slide trio”

“tubbo…there’s four of us”

not wanting to be left behind, George decided to join the chain

“is everyone ready”

“no”

“don’t care”

and with that, the five of you made your way down the slide, after this Tommy dragged you all to the mini jump area where you all sat watching George have a great time

“I don’t care about the rules”

“you’re doing great”

you all ended the trip at the inflatable safety hazard again, you sat with ranboo who kept an arm around your waist whilst recording Tommy who was just constantly being hit and knocked over even though he wasn’t playing

“just get out just get out”

“get out get out”

“he’s dying”

“I'm using this for clickbait on stream”

later that night you decided not to stream as you decided that you’d rather spend the night scrapbooking and playing random board games with tubbo and ranboo

taglist

@fuzzycloudsz @wtfwriter @bearytime @milkydisaster @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt writing #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt reader insert #mcyt fluff #tubbo x y/n #tubbo x you #tubbo x reader #tubbo imagine #tubbo fluff #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit fluff #ranboo x y/n #ranboo x you #ranboo x reader #ranboo imagine #ranboo fluff #georgenotfound x y/n #georgenotfound x you #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound fluff #the great adventures series #dsmp imagine #dsmp reader insert

[aetherarf]

So as my first request, if possible and you feel comfortable, I would like to ask for something with diluc, kaeya ​​and childe with a fem reader who had an abusive father. I don't care how he was abusive, you can choose which one favors you best. And with that, I would like to know how the characters would react by discovering this or how they would deal with the traumas and the reader's fear. Anyways, whatever you think is best 💓

Hello! Also I think I'll go with somewhat different one's each time... ( Diluc gets the short end of the stick again ). Also... I will admit, unless I tackle gender-based topics, I write men and women Readers the same...? You can easily read it as GN but I'll probably just default to GN terms since men and women both suffer from abuse and Gender is a complicated thing that doesn't fit into these writings. [Sorry if I disappoint!]

Edit: forgot to put a summary oopsie

[[ WARNING: ANGST, ABUSE MENTION, RAPE MENTION ]]

[[ Summary: You loved him, you loved him with your whole heart... but no matter your love, you had to eventually tell him what broke you, and caused you to act this way

Total Word Count: 1'880

Childe Word Count: 544

Diluc Word Count: 734

Kaeya Word Count: 602 ]]

Childe

Childe considered himself a pretty affectionate guy--He liked innocent wrestling, tickle-fights, and if he had his way, he'd have his hand on you every second of the day, on your hip, around your shoulders, holding your hand, or even just having your pinkies intertwined was enough.

However, you flinched. Every time he ever tried to make a motion towards you, you flinched, and i you didn't flinch, your eyes widened in shock.

You would apologize, and he tried to dismiss it, It's okay, you didn't do anything. I'm sorry for scaring you.

And he left it at that. But, you were sitting next to him, and he yawned, trying to casually wrap an arm around you, but as soon as he touched your shoulders, you yelped, flinching and staring at his offending arm in shock... and then, slowly, you took deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," you said, exhausted, "I didn't mean to jump."

Childe put his hand on his lap... and he frowned.

"You didn't do anything wrong... but... can I ask... why you flinch from me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side a little, "Normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but... I guess after seeing it so much, I wonder if I've been hurting you on accident, or... if you just don't trust me. I don't like... feeling bad all the time."

You shook your head, grabbing his hand--you were always better when you initiated it, rather than him, "You-Of course not. You've never hurt me, you're always good... it's just..."

Childe looked at you, expectantly, "Just...?"

"... I-I got hit a lot, in the past. I... don't think I've gotten over it. But-you didn't do anything, it was just... him."

Childe's face... darkened. His eyes--they seemed almost empty as he stared for a moment, his hand slowly shifting to grab yours, firm but gentle.

"Who hit you...?" He asked, completely serious... dark.

"It-Childe, you're scaring me."

He blinked once-twice, and that horrific expression disappeared, back to his sweet, charming, slightly-dumb self.

"I'm sorry, snowbird. But-Who hurt you? What happened?"

You hesitated... you'd have to tell him eventually, and there would never be a more perfect time than this.

"My-my father. He... He was a very angry individual. Any slight irritation, and..."

Childe, slowly, lifted your hand to his mouth to press a gentle kiss upon the back.

"You don't have to keep talking if it's too hard," he said, with a smile, "I get it... But-It must be hard to live like that, right?"

You nodded, "It's... awful," you admitted, "I hate it. I don't like feeling scared of you... Even if... No, wait..."

"I get it," he reassured, even if he didn't hide his pained expression well. "I'm a Harbinger... I can get you the best consoling and therapy that money can buy... I can't help you, i mean, talking me me won't help that much, but... Would you do that for me? I can set it all up, I promise... I just need you to go."

You stared.

"Will you go with me, the first time?"

He hesitated.

"Well, I probably won't talk much, since I want it to be about you, but... I'll go. I'll make sure no one as much as lays a hand on you ever again."

Diluc

You and Diluc got along well. You both enjoyed cuddling, but sometimes you slept back-to-back, not from any sort of lack of intimacy, but you just didn't want to cuddle.

You liked to cook together, Diluc oftentimes taking the lead. When he was alone, in the safety of your home, he was quite soft spoken, never raising his voice, and he was gentle whenever he touched you--He truly was a gentleman to his core.

But as you both lie in bed, Diluc reading a book as he furiously squinted at it, you reminded of his worsening vision, you sighed softly.

"Diluc," you said, and he lifted his head, surprised, before he looked down at you. He didn't say anything, just waiting for you to speak.

"... Are you disappointed? With me? With us?" You asked, months and months of fear finally coming out--you couldn't even be upset, or sob, or fuss, you just felt tired.

"What?" He asked, staring at you for a moment. "No. I'm happy. Are you... Disappointed?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper, barely able to hold in his fear.

You pushed yourself up, "No, no, I just... You know what people do when they're together."

Diluc stared at you blankly, waiting a response. After a few second too long, "Oh," he said, "... Do you think I don't love you?" He asked,

"No, no, I meant-sex. I just... We've never done it. Are you... Disappointed?" You asked. He shook his head,

"No. I have you, I don't need sex."

You were quiet for a moment.

"You don't want to... Have sex with me?" You asked--you didn't know whether to be pleased, to know he loved you so dearly that he didn't care for that, or to be insulted.

"I..." He took a deep breath, "I don't want to have sex with anyone or anything, really. If you wanted to, I could... Come to terms with the idea. It's not you, I just... Sex doesn't... Appeal."

You sighed... Were you relieved? You still felt an agonizing pain in your chest. "I get it--and... I guess not, I'm happy with us." You said, smiling as you looked over his face... He, however wasn't smiling.

"You're lying," he said, stating it so plainly that it sounded like a fact, "You brought this up because it was upsetting you."

While lying, you put your arm over your eyes... focusing on breathing, as to not sound choked up--strained.

"I just... I don't know. I was-I was scared you'd ask."

He set everything off to the side, and instead laid down beside you, gathering you up in his arms as he held you close--his hand gently running up and down your back.

"Are you afraid of sex?" He asked... "... If it makes you feel better, I am too."

You looked up at him, staring for a moment.

"I... I was raped," you said, without realizing, "By... my father. He-He was... drunk. It happened... more than once. I don't think he ever remembered, he was-he was so good to me when he was sober, but..."

You hid into his chest, hiding from the world.

"I'm scared," you whined, softly, "I'm tired of waiting for it to happen... with you."

Diluc pressed a kiss atop your head, "... I would never do that, and I don't drink." There was a long moment of silence, "... You have told me about your pain, and... I believe it's only right I tell you of mine. I... Have a similar story," his voice was shaking, as he was struggling to even think... or to talk.

"It was not by my father, he was a good man... But-I... had a friend. Someone I... once cared for. I was drugged, and..."

He swallowed thickly.

"I was aware. I could feel everything, but I could not control my body. I... I understand why you are afraid. I think, I'm afraid too."

You held him close.

"I don't want us to be afraid anymore."

You could only nod at that, closing your eyes as he held you--But, somehow, despite all this fear, you felt so safe in his arms.

"Do you think... we should talk to someone? A professional?" He asked, "I... I never told anyone, but... It... Might be good. For both of us."

"I think so, too." You pressed a kiss over his heart, "Can we go to bed, though, like this?"

"Of course, my blossom."

Kaeya

Kaeya considered himself pretty keen--He noticed how you would, oftentimes, try to desperately explain and justify doing anything. You were minding your own business, reading? You'd try and justify it, "I just... had a hard day. It's not anything bad, I promise."

And he's usually reply with that signature smile, "You could be reading porn and I wouldn't mind, you know."

You laughed it off, but there was an edge of fear in your voice.

Fear.

You were always afraid, and he wanted to fix that. So, he took a day off, just to prepare everything. Some nice candles, a good dinner, some fine wine... And when you came home, he hugged you, held you delicately like you were made of glass. You had a lovely dinner together, with sweet smiles and gentle kisses...

Until the two of you sat together, and Kaeya, lightly, rested his hand on your leg.

"I... Figure you're in a decently-good mood, right?"

You were, it was nice... but you were terrified about what he was going to ask.

"I wanted to you about something... why are you so... scared around me? I don't mind what you do, you can read what you want and do what you want, you don't need my approval for anything... except maybe sleeping with others, but..." He sighed, "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" He grabbed your hand, holding it with both of his own, "I want to make this right, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

...

How could you respond?

"I'm not afraid of you, I'm... just afraid. Old habits die hard, I guess," you laugh, but it's broken and forced--Kaeya does not laugh.

"Why?" He asked, voice low, "Are... is something threatening you? Blackmailing you? If you just tell me, I can fix it. I have my ways."

"No, it's... not blackmail." You tried to think of how to word it.

"If I may guess," he said, "Has someone... hurt you in the past?"

As you looked at him, eyes wide and vulnerable... he knew he hit the nail in the head.

Suddenly, you poured it all out.

How, everytime you did anything, even just looked at someone for too long, how he would yell at you, punish you for anything you did. Reading a book for your studies, he would threaten to burn it, you desperately having to convince him of its innocuous nature, hiding anything you wanted to keep safe.

How he'd scream for hours at a time, until his voice was hoarse and you were terrified he'd make good on his promises that you'd die by his hand.

As you spoke, Kaeya had only stopped looking at you for a single moment, to grab a box of tissues to set upon your lap, "Go on," he said, when you hesitated.

And, now you leaned against his shoulder, slumping... weak and exhausted. He, slowly, wrapped his arms around you, letting your head fall to his chest as he squeezed you close.

"I... I'm sorry. I truly am sorry, love,"

For a moment, he was quiet.

"I don't know how to help, but... I know someone you can talk to. Help you... Get through it. Therapy."

You lifted your head, looking at him with glassy eyes.

"Will you come with me?"

He hesitated.

"He's safe... But I'll go with you a few times until you can trust them, okay?"

You, weakly, nodded. "Okay."

"For now... Do you want to go to bed?"

Weakly, you smiled, "Only if you keep me safe from my nightmares."

Kaeya smiled back-"I'll do the best I can."

#genshin impact #diluc #childe #kaeya #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #bark writes #angst #angsty bark #hurt and comfort #// took me awhile...

[mlm-mod-taka]

Hi! Can I request some Yasuhiro, Kiyotaka, Mondo and Kazuchi (Seperate) X GN reader headcannons where the reader sneaks up on them and starts tickling?

Thanks in advance!

TICKLING THEM • hiro, mondo, taka, kazuichi x gn reader

of course! another interesting fact about me: i am extremely ticklish, heh. also! i overuse the word "tickle/tickled/ticklish" alot, so my apologies if it gets tiring to read. and im also sorry if this is a little short, i sort of ran out of ideas. i hope this is still decent though!

tws/cws: kazuichi kicking you & mentions of bruises.

|| -> mod taka <3

is somewhat ticklish. he isn't on most of his body, but he is on his neck and feet. every other part doesn't feel like anything, but the moment you touch those parts is the time he'll run away from you.

the first time you tried to surprise tickle him, is by doing it to his waist. he didn't react at all, so thats a complete fail. but, when you tried it the third time at his neck, he started giggling like an entertained baby.

the second time was ticking his armpits, which didn't work either. third time is always the charm, though! sadly, he immediately bolted to the other direction after you even slightly touch his neck.

after that, you use your knowledge to your advantage. everytime he tries to annoy you, all you have to do is threaten to tickle him by his neck and he'll shut up right away.

the way you found out that he was ticklish on his foot, was by offering to massage his feet jokingly. which, he started distancing himseld from you, so this raised your suspicions.

when you go to touch the alarmed hiro's feet, he runs away from you, which confirms that he is, in fact, ticklish on his feet. you could use this to your advantage as well, if you wanted to.

he's just that one person that bolts away the moment he sees a sign of your hands going to his neck or feet. he'd rather get in trouble from running in the halls by taka than being tickled.

is one of the most ticklish people you'll know, which is slightly unexpected but still. he has gotten extremely good at hiding it, though. he has a gang and needs to keep up a bad boy persona, so he knows how to hide it for the first few times.

the only time you can actually tickle him is when he doesn't know you're around and/or when you catch him off guard. which is why you deicided to surprise tickle him. you didn't really get why he was trying so hard to hide it, but you swore that you were going to break his calmness.

the moment you slightly graze your hands onto his waist, he's booming in laughter almost immediately. of course, he covers his mouth after he realizes that you just tickled him, and now you have to deal with an annoyed mondo.

after you actually manage to tickle him, he'll avoid going near you for about a few days, at the least. the man isn't about to get tickled again out of fear that others will make fun of him for being so ticklish.

gets revenge by doing the same to you in front of everyone else. if he has to be embarrassed in front of the others, then you do too. of course, he would defend himself if you ever tell others that he's extremely ticklish.

so, after you tickle mondo and find out his deepest, darkest secret, is the moment you're agreeing to an extremely long lasting tickle battle that will probably last for years. but hey, atleast its fun!

okay, this man is by far the most ticklish on the list of characters. the worst area for him is by his armpits, if you even slightly touch it then he'll start to laugh extremely loudly.

he has no shame in admitting that he's very easily tickled. the only downside to confessing this in front of all of your classmates, is that they all try to tickle you atleast once everyday.

when he hears someone sneaking up behind him, he immediately assumes that its leon. and right as he was about to turn around and lecture "kuwata" on repeatedly tickling him, to his surprise, its you instead.

of course, he becomes a laughing, giggling mess in your hands, which is very entertaining to watch. just get ready for the scolding of your life afterwards.

if you could slowly become more resistant to tickling, taka would be the first to get rid of his tickle spots. its such a common occurance of him getting tickled that theres a whole archive of videos of your boyfriend being tickled.

he thinks its a little funny though, so he lets it continue without too much complaining. it does get annoying at times, but its nice to know that he's making people so happy by simply laughing.

overall, he's completely fine with you and the others doing it to him. since its ishimaru, he'll still tell you off, but its definitely not as bad as most of you thought it would be. the whole situation just gives everyone a good chuckle and morale boost.

no. he will not in any way shape or form let you tickle him. he doesn't want to be made fun of for being pretty easy to tickle, so he just avoids anyones hands that goes near his ribcage.

his ribcage is the worst area to touch him in, you did it once accidentally, and since he's one of those people that kicks and moves really haphazardly when he's tickled, you got a bruise from it.

it takes you awhile to figure out that he has a tickle spot. he hides it pretty well at first, but when you realize the area then you'll see how obvious it was, you just needed to look a little closer.

so, when you go to tickle him behind his back the first time, he ended up running away because he heard you beforehand. the second time, you actually got to do it, but it ended in him kicking you because of how much he moved around.

he apologizes the moment that he feels his foot hit your leg. but, he won't help you out since you shouldn't have tickled him! he really dislikes when people do so. he'll let it slide this time, since he loves you.

practically begs you to not tell any one about his tickle area. the moment that the others' know about it is the time that the others will start to take advantage of that knowledge and use it against him.

just, don't tickle him too much. unless you want to be kicked and have a squirming kazuichi on your hands. he's fine with you doing it every once in awhile if you two are alone.

#📍 dismissal ∆ #yasuhiro hagakure #yasuhiro #yasuhiro hagakure x reader #yasuhiro x reader #mondo oowada #mondo owada #mondo oowada x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #kiyotaka ishimaru #kiyotaka #taka #kiyotaka ishimaru x reader #kiyotaka x reader #taka x reader #kazuichi souda #kazuichi #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi x reader #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa headcanons

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (2)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, hella nervous!bucky, dangerously sweet!y/n  🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“What the hell do you mean ‘you’re not going’?”

Bucky shrugged, taking a bite of the bagel Steve picked up on his way to the apartment. He flinched as Steve flung open the curtains, expelling a cloud of dust as the sunlight invaded the living room, illuminating over months of untouched mail on the coffee table and crumbs in the carpet.  

Sam kept his eyes burning on Bucky from the other end of the table. “You can’t back out now, Barnes. She’s expecting you!”

“What’s this about again?” Steve asked as he slid into the chair beside Bucky.  

“Book club. Y/n. Barnes is being a coward again,” Sam explained a little too nonchalantly for Bucky's taste.  

“I’m not being a coward,” Bucky grumbled, avoiding Sam’s eyes and very much proving his friend’s point. “I’ve just— I’ve got better things to do.”

He regretted it the moment it left his lips because both Sam and Steve exchanged a less than subtle, irritatingly familiar glance.  

“Yeah, like what?” Steve scoffed. He extended his arms out to gesture to the empty apartment. “You got tons of plans this week? Think you might see sunlight again or did someone hang garlic in the hallway?”

“Shut up,” Bucky warned, rolling his eyes. It had been a few days since he’d ventured out to the VA for the first time and it was more than he’d done in weeks. It should have been enough for these two, but it never was. They always wanted more out of him. They couldn’t just leave him to rot in his apartment, could they?

“It’s Sunday, you know,” Sam said, devilish smirk rising on his face.  

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I’m well aware.”  

“Come on, man!” Sam groaned, slamming his hand on the table enough to cause a ripple in the coffee mugs. “I saw the way you were looking at her. You can’t tell me seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go...”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed red. They burned hot on his skin and it only seemed to make it worse. He’d never been like this before he was discharged – flustered and easily embarrassed. He supposed before he came home with one less limb and baggage the size of his living room, he didn’t have much to be embarrassed about. He was a flirt, a bit shameless about it, too. He’d had girlfriends and hookups and never thought much about it.  

But now? The vague idea of even presuming to be interested in a woman was borderline laughable. What chance could he possibly have? He was washed up and broken, missing a few pieces, and half off his rocker. There wasn’t a chance in hell you’d go for a guy like him. It was easier to just pretend like he didn’t care, give into the empty void he believed his heart to be, and waste away.  

“Seeing her again isn’t a good enough reason to go,” Bucky said flatly, much to Sam’s annoyance. It was a bold-faced lie, one all three of them were well aware of, but it didn’t mean Bucky needed to give them the satisfaction of admitting it.  

He thought of you in that sunset red sweater, holding a book tight to your chest with that sort of bright starlight look in your eyes as you listened intently to a retired vet go on and on about his personal connection to some corny book. He’d only met you for maybe a span of a few minutes, and still, he could somehow still picture your smile. He wanted to see it again.  

But there was a sharp pain in his left arm; it burned, enough for Bucky to reach across his chest and try to put pressure on it, only to slip through thin air and land against his ribs. The pain remained, like an extension of himself, on an arm that was no longer apart of him. There and not there all at once. He groaned.  

“It’s not a good enough reason, Sam,” Bucky repeated. “I’m not going. She probably won’t even notice.”

Another lie.  

Sam shook his head, the smile quickly leaving his face in favor of one Bucky knew all too well. Disappointment. Frustration. The thing was, it didn’t hurt as much when Bucky was purposeful in creating it.  

“I thought you liked her?” Steve asked cautiously, eyes catching Sam’s for only a moment before he turned back to Bucky. They’d been talking about him. He hated when they did that.  

“I don’t even know her, Steve,” Bucky shot back. He shouldn’t be getting angry with them. They were only trying to help. And yet here he was – pushing away the only two people left in his life that still managed to tolerate him. He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw, trying to push past it. “She’s nice, okay? She’s pretty. Is that what you want me to say?”

Steve sat back in his chair, exhausted. “I want you to be happy, Buck.”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, well, shoulda thought of that before I got myself blown up.”

“Bucky--”

“Let it go, man,” Sam sighed, setting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  

Bucky felt like he could sink straight into his chair. Why did he always do this?

“I hope you change your mind,” Sam said simply, gathering up his things as he and Steve started to make their way to the door. “It could be good for you.”

Bucky knew what he meant by that, the underlaying message hidden just beneath the surface: she could be good for you.  

Right on cue, the pain started up again in his arm that was both there and not there, and Bucky tried to grit his teeth through it, though Sam could spot the tells almost immediately: his right-hand gripping to the arm rest, the flinch in his jaw, the short tense breaths.  

Sam sighed, pausing in the door frame. “We’ll be back in a few days. Try to clean up the place, will you? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Ma said she’d bake you cobbler if you promise to eat it,” Steve offered, too hopeful for his own good. It had been Bucky’s favorite once; the sort of dessert he talked about on desert nights when the mess hall served day old meatloaf and bland potatoes. He didn’t have much of an appetite these days.  

Bucky forced out a smile for his friend’s sake and nodded.  

A familiar silence swept over the apartment as the door closed behind them. It had been a comfort once; a darkness that swept around his shoulders like a blanket. It kept him isolated and suffocated and still, safe.  

Now, it mocked him.

He stared at the knob on the door, tapping his fingers against the edge of the table. He’d done this about a dozen times before, trying to convince himself to do something more with his days than waste away in an expensive one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.  

Steve was right. What the hell else was he going to do today? Stare at the wall for a few hours? Pretend to watch TV and not catch a single word of dialogue? Make a meal he wouldn’t eat?

He thought of you again. How you might scan the room in search of him and a frown might pull at the corner of your lips to not find him amongst the crowd. He wondered if you’d be dressed in yellow or orange or if you’d resemble a cloudless sky as the sun touched over the peaks of the city in soft pinks and purples.

He wanted to know so badly it was killing him.  

“Fuck.”  

He dragged his feet to the bedroom to find something half decent to wear.  

***

It had been a less than ideal start to your day.  

The children’s reading presentation at the library got a little out of hand when the speaker – a local theater student – got caught up in the voices and scared half of the toddlers to tears as he took some interesting liberties with The Cat in the Hat.

Then, a rather unpleasant woman yelled at you for twenty minutes about a man sleeping on the bench outside the near the entrance as if it were a personal affront that this man, a little down on his luck, dared to catch a few minutes of sleep in a public place.  

The internet was shotty all day, leaving a few college students red in the face and with fat tears matching those of the toddlers in the next room over when hours' worth of work had suddenly disappeared in front of their eyes.  

And of course – the teenagers. A band of four boys who hid under the brim of baseball caps with skateboards tucked under their arms, who found it rather amusing to stalk out the adult section and flip through the sorts of novels with bare chested men on the cover until their snickering could be heard from the floor below.  

It warranted a coffee, at least.  

The only solace was that it was Sunday. Your favorite day of the week. It meant a few hours at the VA and catching up with the guys. You hadn’t seen Natasha in a while and you were hoping to see how her new job at the security firm had gone. She was exceptionally qualified and you were almost certain you had her interview answers memorized by the time you’d finished practicing together.  

But there was something different about this Sunday, something that left a few butterflies in your stomach where an easy contentment usually belonged. You were nervous, but there was an excitement, too.  

There’d be a new face in attendance.  

A beautiful face.  

A face that you imagined required a double take were you to see it for the first time on a busy street.  

“You’re smiling again there, darling.”

You looked up to find Mrs. Jefferson keeping a careful eye on you from over the top of her reading glasses. She wore a smile upon her face, one that blended into the laugh lines by her eyes. Her hand trembled with a familiar quiver as she reached up and slid the glasses off her nose. They rested comfortably on a purple beaded chain as they hung around her neck.  

“You always have so much going on inside that head of yours,” she quipped, chuckling to herself. She was a slow mover as she turned to the computer to begin typing in her code. “Have you checked out the books for the VA yet?”

“Already done,” you confirmed, your mind still a little in the clouds. Coffee would definitely need to be a requirement before you stepped foot in the VA.  

“Get a move on then,” Mrs. Jefferson said, gesturing to the door with a trembling hand. “I know you like to get donuts for the kids.”

You still had a few minutes left on shift, but Mrs. Jefferson was always so understanding. She had a son who was in the military once who saw about four tours. Always had a habit of going back, she’d said, like he was testing his luck. You weren’t sure how he’d died, but you knew he didn’t have the chance to go back for a fifth.  

She was a part of a group no one wanted to be in: those who have lost someone to war. Membership cost was steep and there was no going back once it was paid. It was a lonely group, one far too many people occupied. Your own membership card was heavy in your pocket.  

You glanced toward the door. The sun was shining bright on the pavement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

She smiled. “Yes, of course, dear. Tell the boys I said hello.”

“Yes, ma’am!” you called as you gathered your things and the shoulder bag stuffed with books and quickly scurried out the door before another disaster could reel you back inside.  

The sun was warm on your skin and you took a minute to savor it before shoulders started to bump into you, forcing you off balance. You could see your breath in the autumn air, and still, the sun touched your cheeks and left behind a comfort there. Smile on your face, heavy bag draped over your shoulder, you resided to grab coffee and donuts at a café close to the VA before book club started.  

It was one you visited a few times before, right across the street from a painfully busy Starbucks. The quaint coffee shop was often empty inside, save for a few college students with headphones in, typing away at their laptops, and a regular you often saw nursing a black coffee by the front windows, watching the people as they walked by.  

It smelled of coffee beans as you stepped inside. Fresh. Aromatic. You took in a deep breath.  

“Ah, Y/n!” a voice called from the back in a thick Colombian accent. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Hi, Luciana,” you laughed as the woman who owned the shop rounded the corner behind the counter and ran out to give you a hug. She was a tiny woman, short and shout, but her hugs could render even a giant of a man to a puddle.  

“Donuts for your friends down at the VA again?” she asked, releasing you from her embrace, though she still managed to pinch your cheek on the way out.  

“Yes, please!”

“And coffee for yourself?”  

She knew you too well.  

“I could use a bit of a pick-me-up,” you admitted. She knew your order by heart.  

“You should see if that Sam wants to have some good coffee for a change at his next event instead of the bean water he serves our veterans now,” Luciana inquired as she pulled on a pair of gloves and began to stack your box with assorted donuts. She had that smile on her face you recognized well. She asked about Sam a lot.  

“I’ll be sure to get his thoughts,” you replied, trying to stifled a smile.  

“Have him come by,” she offered rather smoothly. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen his pretty face and I could use a little pick-me-up myself.”

She winked at you and set the box of donuts on the counter. Then, your coffee; lid pressed on top, cardboard around the edges to protect from heat. You reached for your wallet but she snuck her hand over the counter and grabbed your wrist.  

“No, no, not today, my dear. My treat.”

You parted your lips to protest but she shook her again.  

“Tell those kids to come visit me every once in a while, okay? I’ve got a discount for ‘em,” she offered, bright smile over painted red lips. She waved you off and you knew there was no arguing with her.  

“That’s very kind of you, Luciana. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”  

“So will my business, dear.” There was that wink again.  

You laughed, heading for the door. “I’ll see you next week!”

The bell rang on your way out.  

The VA wasn’t more than a few blocks from Luciana’s, but the bag piled high with books was starting to weigh on your shoulder. It didn’t help that you had to weave expertly between the pedestrians to balance your coffee and the donut box, too; tourists walking about 10 mph too slow and locals stuck in their path with no qualms of shoving you out of their way if you managed to jump in their trajectory.  

As you approached the VA, the crowd began to disperse. There weren’t too many people who frequented this street as there was little more than the VA building itself to occupy the tourists. You were surprised to find a man standing in front of the doors, staring up at the building as if it offended him in some way.  

Dark brown hair tucked under a baseball cap, just barely peeking out at the nape of his neck. Right hand tucked deep into his pocket, rigid in his stance as he stared down the double doors. He was talking to himself, you realized, judging by the soft clouds of chilled air by his mouth.  

James Barnes.

Bucky.

A smile suddenly took over your face, enough that you had to bite down on the edge of your lip in an effort to suppress it. You’d hoped he would come, but Sam had talked about his friend Bucky long before you met him in the empty library of the VA a few days prior. He didn’t say ‘yes’ to much of anything and he seemed to be the sort of soldier that got left behind by the system when he returned home.  

But he was sweet. You could tell that just from the small interaction you’d had. Quiet. A little flustered. Maybe reserved. But he had beautiful eyes; blue, like they could capture even the faintest colors in the sky and the sweep of a current in the Mediterranean. He’d only barely lifted the corner of his lips to a smile that day and it left you wondering how lovely he was when it touched his eyes.  

“Bucky!” you called, moving a little quicker now as you approached, but he didn’t seem to hear you. Still focused on his staring match with the building, it seemed. For a moment, it seemed as though he might be turning to leave and your stomach twisted.  

You were nearly at his side, a little out of breath when you called his name again and it registered this time. Only, it must have startled him because an arm jutted out in your direction, knocking the coffee from your hands. You were too stunned to do much of anything about it as they coffee flung itself to the pavement, the contents spilling to the ground and over your sneakers. You clutched the box of donuts tight to your chest.  

Bucky froze, almost as still as a statue, his eyes focused on the coffee spilled on the sidewalk. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitch and slowly, his eyes drew up to meet yours. He stared at you for a moment, mouth falling agape. His ears were burning red.  

Then, he seemed to come back to reality as he blinked a few times, his eyes darting from the shock on your face to the coffee on the sidewalk.  

“Y/n! Shit—fuck! I am—so sorry,” he started to ramble, his hand reaching out, though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “I didn’t realize you were-- fuck—”

“It’s alright, Bucky,” you tried to ease him, a laugh in your voice. “Don’t worry about it. Probably didn’t need the caffeine anyway.”  

“I should, um,” he looked around desperately, scanning the street for the nearest coffee shop, his hand clenching and releasing at his side in a repetitive squeeze. It was really sort of sweet. “Let me buy you a new one.”

You smiled at him and he softened a bit. “That’s really not necessary.”  

He gritted his teeth as you bent down to pick up the empty cup and shook the excess coffee off your shoes. They were old sneakers anyway and you were looking for a halfway decent excuse to get new ones. Then came a shy ex-soldier barreling in from the sky with a strong aversion to your coffee.  

“I knew this was a bad idea...”  

He was talking to himself, grumbling under his breath, and you realized why he was staring at the building for so long. You took a step closer to him, studying the way his chewed on the inside of his cheek and shoved his right hand into his pocket.  

“Is it?” you asked.

Blue eyes flickered to yours, brows furrowed. He didn’t think you’d heard him. “Sorry?”

You just smiled at him, shaking your head. You’d been working at the VA long enough to recognize the man behind the soldier; one who’d been beaten and bruised and left to waste the second he was dropped back on American soil. Constantly beating himself up, constantly wondering if he was doing the wrong thing and struggling to be the version of himself he was before the war.

“So, James Barnes,” you grinned, “you decide if you’re coming in or not? It’s a little chilly out here. Don’t want you catching a cold.”  

Bucky stared back at you, unsure. But you could see the tension easing off his shoulders. His right hand was hanging back at his side again as his eyes flickered up to the doors again.  

“Come on.” You smiled at him again and you noticed pretty quickly that he softened when you did that. It made your stomach flutter. You took a step forward, hoping he’d follow behind. “There’s shitty coffee inside we can share before book club starts.”  

“I don’t even know what you’re reading,” he admitted, that sweet nervousness taking over again.  

“You don’t need to,” you shrugged and his brow scrunched up again, confused. You glanced back at the doors. “Well, I’m going inside. I hope I see you there.”

With that, you turned and shouldered your way through the doors, donut box clutched tight to your chest. You waited by the entrance until you heard the soft grumble of a graveled voice outside, and then, footsteps as they approached the door.

You smiled.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

just some hawks headcanons

he loves doing your eyeliner and loves when you point out how good he is at it

he’ll do cool designs too not just normal eyeliner and if you ever wanna do his eyeliner he’s so down (but if you’re not super good at it he will playfully make fun of you, while giving you little tips here and there it’s cute)

he’s such a morning person it’s annoying at times, but it’s generally because he’s been working nonstop for years on a schedule that had him up early 

but on the bright side, if he has time before he has to go to work, he’ll make you breakfast and you’ll get wholesome morning cuddles before he goes 

or if it’s a day off you’ll wake up to him pressing soft kisses all over your cheeks and nose and jawline and a few stray ones on your lips while he whispers ‘come on baby, time to wake up’ all pouty like

he likes to sleep on top of your chest, mainly because it’s easier for him to sleep on his stomach cause of his wings, but he’ll wrap his arms around your waist tightly and bury his face in your chest or neck

he also nuzzles into you a lot, both asleep and awake, he thinks its comforting

he wants to stay up late with you so badly because he’ll take essentially any time he can get with you, but no matter what he wakes up early so he knows he needs to sleep early too, would probably knock out at midnight at the latest anyways

he whistles all the time, he hums a lot too, he’s got a pretty decent voice 

his hair, while it looks good, is probably pretty tangled and messy all the time since he’s always flying around, so he’d love it if you helped him brush his hair gently

also he loves when you help him take care of his wings, he’s kinda hesitant to let other people touch them because they’re so sensitive but if you’re gentle then he’s ecstatic 

when you kiss he lets out little hums from the back of his throat

whenever he gets hurt doing hero work he tries to stay away from you until his injuries dont look bad/he can function fairly normally, one reason for this is that he doesn’t like being seen as weak and vulnerable, he likes people thinking he’s indestructible almost, especially you, and the second reason is that he hates worrying you. he’s so thankful for you and just wants you to be happy so he hates worrying you in any way

but you will catch on eventually, and he begins to grow out of this when you start taking care of his injuries and coddling him a bit 

at the beginning of the relationship it was kinda rocky in an emotional sense, he was physically there and from an outside perspective everything seemed great considering how busy he is and all that, but you knew there were some barriers there that took a while for you two to communicate about

thing is you’re likely keigo’s first relationship, he’s never had the time or care to even think about one but you came along and he just couldn’t resist, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do outside of things he’s heard and he still isnt sure how much trust he should give you

and he knows there’s something up, but he’s still careful about bringing it up, sometimes he thinks that maybe it’d be better for the both of you if you broke up but he knows he’d miss you and doesn’t want to

so eventually you’d have to bring it up, just ask him if things are okay and help him to understand that you’re there for him and that even if it takes time you want to learn about him - even while dating it could take a bit to fully earn his trust, but through various vulnerable moments he’d begin to open up more

he’s insanely protective of you, he tries not to let the media know too much about you if you’re not a hero, and even if you are he tries to make sure your relationship isn’t made into this huge publicity thing - and if anyone ever bothers you he isn’t shy to stand up for you and hurt somebody, he cares more about you than his reputation and he’ll deal with the consequences later

he’s jealous in a possessive you’re mine kind of way, but he does like to show you off, it’s just he has kind of a look but don’t interact policy, as soon as someone tries getting too friendly he’s backing them off, but he loves people knowing that youre with him

if you’re a hero he’ll definitely try to work with you often if your quirks allow it (mainly meaning if you have a quirk that has you out on the field capable of doing intense fighting rather than a quirk that would keep you in a different field than him)

he can be extremely touchy but he can also have moments of not wanting to be touched at all, sometimes he feels better being in his own space, he doesn’t like feeling crowded even if it’s just you, but during these times he’ll still want to be around you, maybe even having your pinkies laced but that’s it

he ruffles your hair all the time

he probably loves going to the park late at night to play on the playground, he likes a lot of more ‘childish’ seeming things mainly because he didn’t have a normal childhood, but he’d love running around the playground with you

asks you to race to who can swing the highest faster and then uses his wings and cheats (he’s probably caused the swing and him to swing around the actual pole at the top doing that before, his life flashed before his eyes, he never did it again)

he absolutely loves carrying you around while flying, if you’re afraid of heights or just don’t like it he understands but if you’re into it then he’ll do it all the time, he thinks of the sky way above the clouds as a safe space where it’s just him and his thoughts and no problems, and he’s so happy to bring you there - now it’s just you two in the whole world and he wants nothing more 

he has dreams of just being able to live freely with you, going around the world just being happy doing whatever you want, maybe eventually settling down, doesn’t matter where - he’s not all too sure if it’ll ever happen since it feels kinda impossible to him to have a life where he isnt stuck doing hero work, but he craves it a lot 

if you don’t want to get married or have kids that’s perfectly fine, keigo would be happy either way, but he probably dreams of those things too - he seems like the type of kid who imagined a pretty wedding with the love of his life one day, and he just knows that if it’s going to be anyone it’s going to be you 

always flirts with you super confidently, tells you stupid pick up lines as if you weren’t dating, but if you ever turn that back on him he gets super flustered

he’d probably cry if you ever pointed out how beautiful you think he is, like his face and body and everything - it’s not that he’s never been told it before, he’s literally a model, he knows he’s attractive, but he probably thinks people view him more so as an object to look at rather than actually appreciating him, so knowing how much you love him for him means so much 

it was a big thing for him even just telling you his name, everyone (at least for a while) only knew him as hawks, so if you start dating before his name was made public, it’d take a lot. he’d probably do it before asking you out, but he was still very nervous about it. he probably only told you his first name at that time, his last name came later, maybe even into you dating

though he instantly fell in love with the way his name sounds coming from your lips

there might be a lot of petty arguments, he can get agitated fairly easily when he’s been working a lot which is most of the time, and at the beginning of the relationship he didn’t know how to talk this through and would get annoyed by little things - he’s gotten better at it over time though and now he calms down quicker and talks to you about it 

would think it’s funny if you bought any stupid merch of him - he walks in and you have a blanket covered in his face and you’re wearing shorts with his hands on the ass, he’d think it’s hilarious. 

#for anyone that reads tags #i know ive basically died but i wanna come back so i'm gonna try #im probably gonna clean out my inbox too #so sorry if i delete yours it's just a lot of the requests idk how to answer and theyve been there for months now #also - i gotta come clean #shinsous not my fav anymore :( i'm still in love with him but stupid keigo came and demanded my hand in marriage or whatever #but idk how to rebrand my blog so hoe for shinsou stays for now #anyways #hawks #hawks headcanons #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #keigo takami #takami keigo #keigo takami x reader

[fictionplumis]

I see your “Roche is secretly a half-elf” and raise you “Shrodingers Roche”. 

Half the things he does is just so Aen Seidhe that when it gets to the point where he’s forced to cooperate with the Socia’tael for the benefit of everyone, like we all want to happen, the elves are just like, “Okay, he has to have Elder Blood. Humans aren’t normally like that, especially humans like him, who revel in violence, murder, and bloodshed. I mean, he doesn’t know who his father is, so...” 

And then Roche turns around and says or does something that contradicts the theory completely and all the elves throw their hands up like, “Nope, he’s a dh’oine.”

-- Roche likes being up high places, both because there’s a tactical advantage but also because he just does. He’s a Blue Stripe, he knows how to climb a tree like a Squirrel, and yes, sometimes he will do it just to sit in the damn tree because at least there he has some peace and quiet sometimes and can observe the surrounding area better. 

-- He hates jumping through the branches chasing down some Socia’tael member who won’t do the decent thing and just let themselves be shot from the trees by a crossbow or come down themselves to get their asses handed to them in a proper fight. Fuck that. He will drag that elf from the tree by their ankle on sheer principal to kill them on the ground. You know, the only sensible place to fight. 

-- He’s really good with a bow. Ves is better than him with a crossbow and is quickly catching up to his skill with a regular bow, but for the moment he can still outshoot her if they’re both using traditional bows. His aim is also damn good with a crossbow for a human, Ves is just better. 

-- Hates using a bow. Just fucking hates it. Iorveth or someone will preach about the benefits a bow has over a crossbow and Roche will go, “Oh yes, well my opionion is,” then he flips the bird and leaves to go shoot shit with his crossbow. But of course he would rather use a sword, or a knife, or just straight up start fucking people up with his mace because who needs poise or grace when you can just bust their skull in with a mace? 

-- When he explained how the Blue Stripes were so hard to ambush without Roche figuring out their location seconds before the ambush, what he describes sounds oddly like he’s tuning into the feeling of the forest. He claims it’s a feeling, like the trees are holding their breath, like there’s a charge in the atmosphere, a drop of pressure on a beautiful sunny day before a bad storm. And what human can feel the natural world around them that strongly and not have a drop of Elder Blood there? 

--Then they watch him pass up five different medicinal herbs on his way to pick some poison mushrooms that aren’t deadly if cooked, but will cause mild stomach pains nonetheless. And Roche is like, “It’s fine, because it’s food that doesn’t kill anyone and doesn’t cut into our rations. Who cares about some mild abdominal cramping? Ves goes through that once a cycle and she’s fine. My unit never complained about them before besides the one person who died before we realized we needed to cook them, but no one liked him anyway.” 

-- He likes looking up at the stars, which Iorveth found particularly endearing. Of course, as a Commander and someone who travels a lot, Roche would need to know how to navigate by them, but laying on his back at night looking up at them twinkling overhead isn’t navigating, and Roche even knows some of the lore behind the constellations, even if the lore he knows is heavily changed to fit human beliefs when they had once been elven stories. 

-- Roche can identify the Guiding Star and knows that it’s part of a ladle, but he doesn’t get how it’s a ladle. He can’t see the ladle. He finds the star because he recognizes the pattern of the other stars around it but they don’t look like a fucking ladle. And he knows those three stars over there are the belt of a hunter but that does NOT look like a hunter with a bow. He cannot for the life of him understand how some people saw those dots in the sky and went, “Ah yes, that looks like an archneas.” Don’t try to show him and point it out star by star, don’t try to draw him a picture and explain it, he won’t get it. He doesn’t see it. He thinks people that do are a little touched in the head. 

-- His ears are sensitive. 

-- He claims that’s pretty normal for humans and they aren’t even slightly pointy.

-- When he wants to, he can move incredibly silent and blend in well with the forest despite being bright fucking blue. There is a kind of grace about him, too. All of those things are too well done for most skilled humans.

-- He’s big. He’s bulky. He has to try at being silent. Body hair. Also he would rather not fight with grace, he’d rather just wail on someone with his fists and taste blood in his mouth.

-- He rarely dreams, and when he does, they’re intense. 

-- All the dreams he has can easily be explained by PTSD. 

-- Roche does actually find peace in being in nature. When he’s alone. When he’s not looking over his shoulder for threats. And he’s very good at just being in the middle of the woods and doing things. It’s something he never admits to anyone because it just never really comes up. 

-- If given the choice between being in the middle of the woods, or in a city with a fucking bed and roof over his head, he’ll pick the bed ANY DAY. 

-- He’s actually a very clean person if given the choice. He likes baths, especially hot baths because they ease his aching muscles. And he prefers his clothing looking nice and neat, like he just stepped out of the Vizima palace. 

-- He doesn’t complain about going weeks covered in blood, sweat, dirt, shit, and gods only know what else. He’ll complain about having to scrub it off his clothes, though. 

-- He’s fucking TOUGH. For a human, he’s survived some extreme shit and kept on trucking. He can take a fall, he can take a hit, he can nearly be burned alive by a dragon and then buried under half a foot of rubble and get up and be pissed off that his uniform is scorched and he broke three ribs. Socia’tael have seen him take arrows and just keep coming. 

--  He aches a lot. Muscles, joints, especially his wrists from using a sword. All that jumping after the Socia’tael and fighting his way out of every situation has taken a real toll on his body. He often wears compression gloves under his studded ones to help with the pain. He claims that age is a factor because he’s not a young man anymore, but Elder Blood would staved that off for a bit longer. Time will tell on that one, whether is pain his lifestyle or age, and if he lives long enough for his age to give much of a hint.

-- And a random thing that screws up the whole idea he might have Elder Blood, this poor man can’t carry tune for shit. Can’t even hum on key. He’s fucking awful and so he just WON’T because his biggest weakness is doing something minorly embarrassing. 

So the question becomes, is Roche a half-elf, a weird human, or are humans just sometimes like that? Until they know for sure, all are equally likely and valid.

#rorveth #vernon roche #iorveth #half elf roche #witcher 2

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

#bts fics #bts fanfic #BTS suga #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #bts angst #bts smut #fallen angel #fallen angel au #bts reader #bts you #bts fluff #bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #park jimin #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #two shot

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 2

A/N: the flower husbands do be kinda 😳 in this part so obligatory reminder that this is about their characters, not the irl people! anyway homoerotic swordfight lets gooooo (also look at me posting two days in a row hell yeah)

Warnings: arguing, violence, swordfighting, flirting

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost 

-

It was a good day. The sun was shining, Jimmy was finally getting some organization done in his empire- and then he showed up. Jimmy just about dropped the materials he was carrying to his storage building when he spotted Scott standing on his roof, looking down at it with a frown. Jimmy let out a frustrated groan, quickly hustling into the building to dump his materials in a chest and then back outside to glare up at Scott. He gave a cocky grin and a wave, and Jimmy let out another frustrated sound.

“What are you doing here?!” Jimmy demanded. Scott merely shrugged.

“I dunno, was bored. Decided to fly by. Your roof is terrible by the way,” Scott said, shifting his weight on the wood and grimacing when it gave a creak.

“What do you mean, my roof is terrible?!” Jimmy protested with a frown. He thought his buildings weren’t half bad! Sure, they were nothing fancy like Scott’s, but they made do! They were simple, Jimmy liked simple.

“I mean I can barely get a foothold here without feeling like I’m gonna fall off, it’s way too steep!” Scott replied with a grimace. Jimmy rolled his eyes.

“My roofs aren’t meant to be perches, Scott. Besides, steep roofs are kind of the style around here!” Jimmy said, crossing his arms. He was slightly aware that he looked like a pouty toddler at the moment, but was too irritated by Scott’s presence to really care. Scott wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Jimmy, you wouldn’t know style if it smacked you in the face,” he retorted.

“Excuse you, I have a lot of style!” Jimmy protested.

“You wear a cod head,” Scott said flatly.

“Exactly!” Jimmy said, as if it was obvious. Scott rolled his eyes, and Jimmy scowled at him. Scott could have whatever opinions he wanted on Jimmy’s style, but his roofs were fine! He would show him, Jimmy could stand on top of the roof just fine if he wanted to! With a determined frown, Jimmy equipped his elytra and flew up to the roof, startling Scott slightly.

“What on earth are you doing?” Scott asked with a resigned sigh. Jimmy landed on the roof, and only wobbled a tiny bit before he caught his balance and stood on its steep slope just fine. Well, maybe not just fine, but he was trying to prove a point to Scott here. He didn’t need to know that Jimmy was frankly struggling with keeping his balance.

“See, it’s not too steep! I’m standing just fine!” Jimmy said proudly, putting his hands on his hips in a triumphant pose.

“You’re really trying to out-perch the person here with actual wings?” Scott scoffed, raising an eyebrow. Jimmy deflated slightly.

“Okay, well- it does sound dumb when you put it like that- but what does that say about you if the guy with an elytra can perch better than the guy with real wings!” Jimmy said, faltering only for a moment before regaining his confidence.

“Please, I’ve kept my balance on worse than this,” Scott huffed. A semi-victorious smirk came to Jimmy’s face, and Scott looked at him in confusion.

“Then why were you complaining about it?” Jimmy asked, voice cocky and a full on grin spreading over his face. Now it was Scott’s turn to look frustrated, and his mouth opened and closed uselessly for a few moments.

“I- well- that’s besides the point! I had to think of a functional purpose for why your roof was bad other than it was ugly, Katherine told me to play nice!” Scott finally shot back, moving forward and poking Jimmy in the chest. While it wasn’t even that hard, Jimmy nearly toppled over anyway, only saved by Scott rushing forward and grabbing his arm to steady him. Jimmy’s face suddenly felt warm at Scott’s touch, and he blamed it on the frustration he felt over what Scott had said.

“You’re only here because Katherine sent you?!” Jimmy asked, surprising himself at the disappointment that underlaid the annoyance in his tone. Scott let go of his arm with an eye roll.

“Why else would I visit you? And you’re welcome for not letting you go splat,” he scoffed.

“I would have been fine, I don’t need your help!” Jimmy shot back.

“Oh you definitely need help Jimmy, looking at the state of your roofs,” he retorted.

“For the last time, my roofs are FINE!” Jimmy shouted, shoving at Scott without really thinking about it. Scott stumbled backwards, and with a gasp Jimmy reached out for him- only for Scott to right himself with a powerful flap of his wings, blowing Jimmy backwards a bit. Jimmy opened his mouth to apologize, but stopped cold at the downright murderous look in Scott’s eyes. Scott had always been a tall, imposing figure- but with his wings flared, a hand on the hilt of his sword, and icy blue eyes glittering with anger- Jimmy was beginning to wish that he would take a moment to think before he did something like shove someone who was definitely better at fighting than him.

“Jimmy, you could have killed me,” Scott said, voice low and dangerous.

“But I didn’t! You caught yourself and- wait no Scott, wait- SCOTT!” Jimmy rambled, voice tapering off into an undignified shriek as Scott drew his sword and lunged forward. Jimmy managed to scramble to the side and avoid the strike, unsheathing his own sword as he did so.

“Wait for what, Jimmy? You attacked first,” Scott taunted as he raised his sword again, and Jimmy was barely able to block the blow in time, a resounding clang echoing through the swamp.

“Katherine said to play nice!” Jimmy protested, cringing internally a bit at how much he sounded like a whiny toddler.

“Katherine isn’t here right now,” Scott growled. Jimmy grit his teeth, pushing against Scott’s sword with his own and causing Scott to stumble backwards.

“Fine, then I’ll actually be able to fight you this time,” Jimmy said with a determined scowl.

“I’d like to see you try,” Scott taunted with a smirk. Jimmy advanced with a shout, Scott sidestepping to the side easily, the tips of his feathers barely brushing against Jimmy’s sword. Jimmy stumbled forward, unable to slow his momentum- until he toppled over the side of the building. Luckily he was able to glide down with his elytra just fine, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at Scott indignantly as he effortlessly landed on the ground. He ran at Scott again, slashing and jabbing but only growing more and more irritated as Scott easily deflected every blow.

“This is ridiculous!” Jimmy panted as he tried to catch his breath, while Scott didn’t have a single feather or hair out of place. Scott smirked, slowly circling as he lightly twirled his sword, adjusting his grip.

“It is, I thought you’d at least put up somewhat of a decent fight,” Scott said with a mock disappointed hum. Jimmy barely took a breath to reply before Scott lunged at him, and Jimmy brought up his sword to deflect- until Scott’s true target hit as his blade slid under the hilt of Jimmy’s sword and he brought his blade up harshly, causing Jimmy’s sword to fly out of his hands. Scott swung at him again, and Jimmy dodged the blow and made a break for his sword. Scott leapt after him, knocking Jimmy to the ground. His sword ended up stabbing into the ground, inches from Jimmy’s head. Jimmy let out a low sound of frustration, viciously jabbing his elbow back and unable to keep the satisfied smile off his face when his elbow connected with something solid, resulting in a shout of pain and frustration from Scott. The moment of victory was short lived as Jimmy tried to scramble up, but was yanked back down by Scott again.

The two of them grappled for control, each of them trying to get to their own sword but being pulled back by the other. Eventually Scott ended up on top of Jimmy, hands pinning his wrists to the ground and nose barely an inch from his. Both of them were breathing heavily, and Scott’s hair was rather disheveled from their fight, a few strands hanging from their usual place and brushing Jimmy’s forehead. And inexplicably, all Jimmy could think about was how he could kiss Scott if he wanted to. They were practically sharing the same air, and Scott was looking at him with something burning in his eyes despite the icy tone of their hue- Jimmy’s face flushed at the sudden rush of thoughts, how vividly he could envision the feel of Scott's lips on his own. Scott’s burning expression turned curious, and he smirked in a way that sent Jimmy’s stomach flip-flopping not unpleasantly. Scott shifted, until his breath was ghosting Jimmy’s ear- and oh this is how Jimmy died. Not with a sword through his stomach, but with whatever Scott was doing to make his insides squirm like that.

“If I had known you liked being pinned, I would have done so much sooner,” Scott said in a low croon, and whatever Jimmy had been feeling before was quickly replaced by irritation. He wanted nothing more than to shove Scott off of him, but seeing as his hands were pinned, he couldn’t.

“Get off of me,” Jimmy growled. Scott let out a short, low chuckle, and Jimmy internally cursed his body for shivering at the resulting breath against his ear.

“That’s not how this works, we’re fighting,” Scott said with amusement lacing his tone.

“Oh really? Cause you seemed very interested in something else a few moments ago,” Jimmy huffed, turning his head to try and glare at Scott. Scott relented and shifted so he was looking Jimmy in the eyes again.

“Only because you were blushing, you idiot,” Scott retorted with a laugh.

“I was not blushing! I just… my face gets red very easily, and fighting takes physical effort!” Jimmy protested.

“Uh huh,” Scott said with an unimpressed stare. Jimmy scrambled to think of something to say back, to maybe unbalance Scott as much as the winged elf had unbalanced him- but any train of thought was halted by a disapproving voice.

“You two are either getting along too well or you aren’t getting along at all,” Katherine said, and both Scott and Jimmy’s heads whipped over to see the head of House Blossom glaring at the two of them with her arms crossed.

“Oh. Hi, Katherine,” Scott said with a sheepish grin.

“Don’t you ‘hi, Katherine’ me! I knew sending you over her alone was a bad idea,” Katherine snapped, and Scott had the decency to look at least a little embarrassed.

“I don’t think Jimmy was complaining about this turn of events,” he muttered. Jimmy glared up at Scott incredulously.

“I very much AM complaining, get off of me!” he protested. Scott finally relented with a sigh, letting go of Jimmy’s wrists before getting up, wings shaking out any dirt and a hand smoothing his hair back to where it should be. Jimmy scowled, getting up as well, brushing the dirt off himself and adjusting his cod head. Scott walked over to where his sword was still buried in the ground and yanked it out with a grimace, looking it over before sheathing it. Jimmy’s sword was still lying a little ways away, and he walked over to it with a sigh.

“So what argument were you having before you decided it was necessary to solve it through swordfighting?” Katherine asked, disapproval lacing her voice.

“Jimmy pushed me off the roof,” Scott replied with a shrug.

“You pushed first! And you said my roofs were terrible!” Jimmy protested.

“I poked you, and your roofs are bad! That’s just a fact!” Scott retorted. Jimmy opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Katherine coming to stand in between them. Jimmy hadn’t even realized that they were moving closer to each other until Katherine had stepped in.

“That’s enough! Scott, I told you to be nice, and Jimmy I thought you were gonna try not to let things get to you too much!” Katherine reprimanded, gaze switching between the two of them. Both of them were silent for a moment, each looking a little sheepish but neither one wanting to be the first to own up to what they said. Jimmy’s eyes met Katherine’s, and she gestured towards Scott with a pointed expression. Scott looked baffled for a moment, while Jimmy simply sighed as he begrudgingly gave in to what Katherine was undoubtedly expecting. Jimmy looked to Scott, and the winged elf jumped slightly at the sudden solemn eye contact.

“I’m sorry for pushing you, I was frustrated and let my emotions get the better of me,” Jimmy said softly, and Scott blinked in surprise at the sincere apology. He was silent for a moment, until Katherine cleared her throat expectantly. Scott sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.

“I.. I’m sorry too. I was trying to get a rise out of you, and I guess I shouldn’t have reacted so… extremely when I succeeded in that. And your roofs are… acceptable,” Scott said, looking like saying the last statement caused him physical pain. Jimmy laughed good-naturedly.

“You don’t have to lie about my roofs Scott, it’s fine. I know they could never compare to the grand-ness of Rivendell’s buildings- but apology accepted all the same,” Jimmy said, a pleasant bubbly feeling growing in his stomach at Scott’s resulting smile. Katherine looked far too pleased with herself as she grinned as her gaze shifted between the two of them. Scott was still looking at Jimmy though, something almost calculating in his expression, but softer. More… intrigued, maybe? Jimmy couldn’t quite decipher it. Scott suddenly looked away, clearing his throat.

“Well I uh… I think I’ve kept you long enough. From… doing whatever it was you uh. Were doing. Bye!” Scott said, taking off before Jimmy had a chance to say goodbye or even wave. Jimmy watched until Scott’s form grew smaller and smaller in the sky, feeling hopelessly confused. Katherine patted his arm gently, Jimmy only slightly jumping at the touch as he turned to look at her.

“Now that wasn’t so bad! Maybe the next meeting will actually go smoothly for once,” Katherine said brightly. Jimmy chuckled, looking back up at the sky, even if Scott was no longer in view.

“I think that’s a bit much to hope for us,” he said remorsefully. But all the same… he hoped that maybe Katherine was right.

-

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