#<- the au is based off limited life so it counts

[widows-alliance-but-everywhere]

Day 33 is brought to you by the admin! Art for an AU I came up with on twitter :3

#scott and cleo #admin art #liml #<- the au is based off limited life so it counts #Smajor1995 #zombiecleo #Scott Smajor #life series #traffic smp #trafficblr #martyn inthelittlewood #trafficshipping #crush as in queerplatonic #inthelittlewood #day 33

[superhaught]

Angel in the Snow

Pairing: Reneé Rapp & Reader (platonic)

Warnings: drug use, drug-induced unconsciousness, overdose, refers to sexual assault, mention of blood, emergency room examination, angst, hurt-comfort

Word Count: 2950, Part 1/?

Note from Author:

! This is an AU where reader finds Reneé before she loses 7 hours of her life that night. There is difficult subject matter here so please read at your own discretion. !

Big shoutout to @fanofthings20 who beta-read this piece for me, thank you so much!

If this is missing any necessary warnings or tags please let me know!

Finally, carry Narcan/Naloxone!

Reneé is reader's best friend. Reneé is partying a lot and one night, Reneé is unaccounted for. Reader looks for and helps her friend. Based on the events that "Snow Angel" is about.

No one knew where she was, and you were the only one who seemed to care. Everyone was annoyed that you were even asking. 

“You’re freaking out over nothing, I’m sure she just left.”

But you didn’t feel like it was nothing. There was a feeling in your gut that said otherwise. Reneé had disappeared from the group over an hour ago. Your best friend in the world was nowhere to be found and all of these assholes were more concerned about maintaining their buzz than her well-being. 

You sent her a third text asking if she was okay that got left on delivered.

You never felt that it was your place to stand in the way of Reneé having fun and enjoying herself, but you were worried about her. More than worried… you were scared for her. 

Lately, you had felt like she was pushing the limits of what she could handle, sustaining herself on parties and substances and hook ups. You knew that she was trying to escape something, you just didn’t know what. You would have given anything for her to just let you in. 

One week prior, you went out on a limb and tried to talk to her about it. She got mad. Madder than you’d ever seen her. 

“I’m done with this conversation,” she asserted.

“Reneé, please, I’m just trying to help…”

“Well, you’re not. You’re just being fucking annoying.”

She told you to leave her alone, but you couldn’t leave her alone. Especially not now. Not when she had her finger on the self-destruct button. 

You weren’t invited to this party but you knew she was going to be there with some guy and his friends and you just didn’t trust him. So you showed up and found the group she was supposed to be with, but Reneé and her date weren’t with them. 

“Fuck you all,” you said as you stormed off and started asking for help from the bartenders and bouncers. You showed a picture of her to various club staff and none of them really recognized her or knew where she might be.

No one was taking you seriously and you started to doubt yourself. Maybe you were being insane. Reneé is an adult and the fact that you were trying to track her down when she didn’t even want you here was pretty crazy of you. She probably did just leave with the guy to hook up.

But then you shook your head. No. You’d rather be anxious and find out that nothing was wrong after all than let something happen to her. If she was drunk or high, she could be taken advantage of and you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t do everything you could.

You tried calling her. You let it ring until it went to voicemail, “Hey it’s Reneé, leave a message.” You felt sick to your stomach. Even if she was mad at you, Reneé would never not pick up a call from you if she could help it. 

You did another lap of the dancefloor and still didn’t see the blonde. You started to check the club bathrooms, shouting her name and getting a lot of weird looks but not getting any closer to finding her. So you started to get more creative. You left the club area in favor of searching the hotel that housed it. The main lobby was fairly empty and quiet. 

You rushed up to the worker at the front desk and showed Reneé’s picture to her, “please, I’m looking for my friend, I think she could be in trouble, have you seen her?”

The woman sighed and pulled her glasses down from the top of her head to examine your phone. She squinted her eyes as she took the phone from your hand to look at it closer. Your body trembled anxiously as you waited. 

“You know what,” the woman began, “she does look familiar. I think I saw a blonde girl like her go into the restroom here a while ago. She came from the club and there was a young man with her. She didn’t look well.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” You took your phone back and sprinted to the bathroom she pointed to. The bathroom door flew open at the push of your arm and your worst fears were confirmed at what you found in the bathroom. 

Reneé was unconscious on the bathroom floor, curled up in one of the stalls. 

“No… no no no!” You fell to your knees at her side and grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Reneé didn’t respond. You leaned down and felt that she was breathing, just really slowly. 

You shook her again and touched her face. She was cold and clammy. Her makeup had run down her cheeks. There was blood on her pants. You couldn’t think about what might have happened, yet, you just needed to help her. 

You knew she’d kill you if you called 911 but you didn’t fucking care so you did. You punched 911 into your phone with shaking hands and then put it on speaker and set it down on the floor.

“Nine one one what is the location of your emergency?”

You didn’t realize that you were sobbing until you spoke to give the operator the address of the hotel. 

“Okay hun, I’ve got your location, take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.” 

“It’s my friend, she’s unresponsive. I think she might be overdosing or maybe she was roofied, I don’t know what to do! Should I give her Narcan?” 

“Yes, do you have Narcan available to you right now?” 

“Yes, I do.” You opened your bag and took your Narcan kit out. You thanked your lucky stars that you thought ahead to bring it with you.

“Great yes go ahead and administer the Narcan. Paramedics are on their way to you now. Have you ever administered Narcan before?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

The 911 operator started talking you through the steps and you ripped open the package and put the tip of the sprayer into one side of Reneé’s nose and depressed it to administer the medication. 

You waited for a few seconds, caressing Reneé’s cheek gently and saying her name out loud, waiting with baited breath for her to respond. Suddenly, Reneé inhaled a deep breath and her eyes flew open. 

“Oh my god! Nae!” 

Reneé looked all around her in a panic and then finally found your eyes. She gripped your arms with white knuckles. 

“It’s me, Nae. It’s me… you’re safe, I’ve got you… it’s okay…” you spoke to her through tears.

Reneé didn’t say anything in response, she just stared at you with wide eyes. 

The 911 operator spoke from the phone, “is she responsive, now?” 

“Yes, yes, she’s awake.” You sobbed. 

“Okay the ambulance is almost there, stay put for the paramedics okay? I’ll stay on the line with you. Can you get your friend in the recovery position, do you know that?” 

“Yes,” you replied, “Reneé, I need to roll you onto your side, okay?” 

Reneé was just terrified and slow to process anything but she let you adjust her onto her side with her arm under her head. 

You leaned over her and wrapped your arms around her. You whispered to her, “it’s okay, help is almost here. And I’ve got you… you’re gonna be okay, Reneé… I’ve got you…” 

Reneé coughed and started crying as she grasped onto your hand tightly, lacing her fingers with yours, “how… how… did you… know…?” 

“I just knew… I knew you needed me…” 

“I’m so… sorry…” 

“Shhhh… shhh… stop…” your own tears fell onto her shoulder and you rubbed your thumb over hers, “that doesn’t matter…” 

“I… I… I fucked up…” 

“It’s going to be okay…”

The next hour was a whirlwind. You stayed at Reneé’s side the entire time while the paramedics came and checked on her in the hotel bathroom. Then they got her onto a stretcher and brought her into the ambulance. You held her hand the whole time. 

You were there as Reneé got checked into the hospital ER. She was asked a million questions that she struggled to answer, not remembering much of anything from her night. Reneé kept looking over at you with panic in her eyes. 

“It’s okay, just do your best,” you whispered.

The ER nurse took her vitals, drew blood, gave her fluids through an IV, and had Reneé provide a urine sample. Then, she left the two of you alone in a sterile exam room to wait.

Reneé’s mind and body were exhausted. She had dark circles under her eyes. Her lips were dry. She shivered and trembled in the uncomfortable hospital bed. But she held on tightly to your hand like it was her lifeline.

You squeezed her hand back and smiled softly, “I’m here,” you’d say, “I’ve got you.” 

She nodded and tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. You reached out and wiped them away with the thumb of your free hand, “it’s gonna be alright.” 

Reneé leaned into your touch and closed her eyes.

“Reneé,” you whispered, “I want to leave the choice up to you, do you want me to call your parents?” 

She shook her head, “please, don’t… not yet… I don’t want them to freak out and get on a plane… I’ll tell them… when I’m ready… I promise…” 

You nod your head, “okay, Nae. If that’s what you want.” 

“Thank you…” she sniffled.

You leaned forward and lightly kissed the back of her hand.

“I wish you weren’t seeing me like this…” she mumbled.

“Don’t even worry about that, Nae.”

She frowned and went quiet for a moment, then whispered, “if you hadn’t found me…”

“Shh… don’t go there…”

 “I’ve been such an idiot. I should have listened to you…”

“You’re not an idiot, Reneé.” 

“I thought I could make it go away…” 

“I don’t understand… make what go away?” 

Reneé stared at you for a moment, debating whether or not to say what was on her mind. You squeezed her hand again and gave her a pleading expression.

But before Reneé could speak, there was a knock on the door and it began to open. Reneé closed her mouth, let go of your hand and directed her attention to the door. 

A doctor and a police officer came into the room together and shut the door. Reneé’s eyes widened. The doctor sat down on a rolling stool and explained what they knew so far. She had a high blood alcohol level, and an intense cocktail of drugs in her system, which included weed, cocaine and ketamine. 

The doctor continued and asked Reneé if she would be willing to undergo a sexual assault examination.

To your shock, Reneé adamantly shook her head. 

“No… no, I don’t want to do that,” she said. 

“Are you absolutely sure?” The doctor asked. 

“I’m sure… I just want this to be over.” 

The doctor nodded slowly, “it’s your choice. If you change your mind, just let someone know, but the sooner it’s done, the more likely it is we will find actionable results. For now, though, this officer has some questions for you and then I’ll have a nurse come back in to discuss some rehabilitation options with you, alright?”

Reneé nodded. The doctor stood up and left the room. You met Reneé’s eyes and repeated the doctor’s question, “Nae, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she snapped. 

The officer then pulled out a notebook and began asking Reneé questions about her night. Who she was with, who had the drugs, where did they get them, what she remembered leading up to going to the hotel bathroom…

Reneé maintained that she didn’t remember much of the night. She didn’t know how anyone got the drugs. She didn’t know if she was alone when she went to the bathroom or not. She didn’t know what happened to the guy that she was with. 

You sat beside her and listened to the conversation. The more questions she was asked, the more emotional Reneé became. She started to cry and you just caressed her arm until the officer was finally satisfied and left. 

Over the next hour, a nurse came in and gave Reneé some brochures for drug rehabilitation programs and then took her vitals one last time before discharging her. 

You left the hospital and called an Uber. Reneé gently took your phone from you and added a stop to the ride and then handed your phone back to you. 

You looked at what she added, “a CVS? What for?”

“I have to get something.”

“Okay.”

The car pulled up and you got inside. You thought of asking her to finish what she was saying before the doctor interrupted but inside, you rode in silence. The driver parked at the pharmacy and Reneé moved to get out of the car.

“Want me to come with?”

“No, stay here,” she instructed. 

You waited in the car while Reneé ran into the pharmacy. She was back no more than five minutes later with a small bag. 

The driver continued on and finally dropped you both off at your apartment, which was Reneé’s request. You unlocked your apartment door and she went inside and went straight to your kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. 

She reached into her bag from the CVS and then looked at you with a serious expression, “I don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything in response. 

Reneé pulled a Plan B package out of the pharmacy bag and your heart sunk. She opened it and briefly skimmed the instructions on the packaging and then took the pill and drank the whole glass of water. 

“Nae…”

“Don’t.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything… I’m just… sorry.”

She sighed, “you didn’t do anything worth apologizing for.”

“I’m sorry that this happened. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there.”

“You were there. You did everything you could’ve.” She stared for a long moment at her own hands planted on your kitchen counter, “I’m exhausted…”

“I’ll get you some clothes to wear to bed.” 

Reneé nodded her head.

Before going to your bedroom you slowly approached her and held your arms out. She looked at you out of the corner of her eye and then suddenly turned and collapsed into your offer of a hug. She grasped you tightly, squeezing the fabric of your shirt in her fists and she sobbed. The floodgates burst open and the woman bawled into the crook of your neck with unprecedented force. 

You must’ve held her like that for twenty minutes. Eventually, you dropped your hands from her back to her thighs and you lifted her up in your arms for her to koala around your front, wrapping her legs around your hips and keeping her face buried against your shoulder.

You carried her carefully down the hall to your bedroom and set her gently down on the edge of your bed. 

You went to step away to grab clothes for her to change into but she held onto you, “Wait…”

“Okay, alright… I’m here,” you assured. You sat down beside her on the bed and she leaned against you.

“D-don’t leave,” her voice cracked as she spoke, “I don’t want to be alone tonight…”

“I won’t leave, Nae. I’m right here.”

There was another long period of silence where she just leaned against you and closed her eyes while you rubbed her back. She finally let you get up to grab clothes for her and then she asked for your help to change. 

You gently helped her out of her party clothes which bore the evidence of whatever it was that she had gone through and she put on one of your oversized t-shirts and a pair of your plaid boxers that you often wore to bed. 

After that, you tucked her into bed and she reached for your hand, “please, stay with me.”

You held her hand, “I’ll stay. I promise.”

“Will you hold me?”

You nodded, “of course.”

You crawled into the bed behind her and wrapped yourself around her in a protective embrace. She held your hands tightly in hers and clutched them against her chest. You could tell that she was trying to match the pace of your breathing. 

“It’s okay…” you whispered, “I’ve got you…”

You didn’t want to be having the thoughts that you were having. You didn’t want to be thinking about how her hair smelled or how her skin felt or how much you’ve always wanted to cuddle her like this in your bed or how she looked wearing your clothes. It wasn’t right for you to be thinking about those things when she was having the hardest night of her life. You just needed to be a good friend right now.

Reneé shivered and whispered into the darkness, breathing your name gently. 

“Yeah?”

“I…” she began.

You waited for her to continue. You held your breath, not knowing, but hoping against all hope that she would finish that sentence.

“I…” she tried again, “... thank you.”

“Oh… yeah, you’re welcome… of course.” You squeezed her hand once more, unsure whether the squeeze was your way of saying it’s okay, I love you or goddammit please just say it or I’ll wait for as long as you need me to. Maybe it was all of the above. Maybe it was just goodnight. 

Either way, Reneé returned the squeeze with three pulses and then she fell asleep in your arms.

#renee rapp #renee rapp fanfiction #real person fiction #renee rapp au #renee rapp snow angel #renee rapp & reader #my fanfiction #my writing #original writing #cw: drugs #cw: blood #cw: assault #cw: overdose

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4861

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

10. S'mores

It’s the “sex play” (God, that term is so cringe) thing being on the table that builds the tension in the apartment, all of them knowing about it but none of them talking about it. Mary sure as shit doesn’t have the guts to break that ice, and now Bucky’s always deep in thought and quiet around her. And Steve, well.

Steve is like a big, mopey golden retriever who knows its humans are upset but doesn’t know how to help besides headbutting things affectionately.

Mary’s feelings for him only grow when she realizes that he really hasn’t told Bucky about that night in the kitchen: the things she’d confided about the razor and her nightmares and sneaking out to the gym. Knowing that Steve’s stuck by his word like that makes her like him and trust him a whole heck of a lot more. 

But it doesn’t solve the underlying problem. 

There’s a court hearing in front of a judge next month to revisit the custody arrangement—Next month. And one afternoon while Bucky’s out of the apartment, Steve gently informs Mary that Dr. Linda is recommending the order be extended. Jesus fucking Christ. 

And then the results to that test Linda made her take, the “Submissive Sexual Interests and Tendencies Assessment”, arrive in the mail (addressed to Bucky, because of course they would be), and Mary gets her hands on them after Bucky and Steve read them, and she’s mortified at what it says about her.

Tendencies: Passive aggression (reactive aggression in lieu of submission), emotional outbursts, low self-esteem, impulsive sexual promiscuity, self-harm, alcohol use disorder, possible co-morbidity (OCD, EDNOS, BDD). Dynamic Preferences: single dominant authority figure, structured domestic routine, service, discipline, monogamous relationship, emotional bonding. Recommendations: Following assessment review, patient is most likely to benefit from continued domestic control in a consistent (24/7) environment. Transfer of custody not recommended. Continued therapy sessions and educational courses at CDP highly recommended. Most beneficial therapeutic modalities include limited corporal discipline, sex play, and reward-based service routine.

There’s a ton of infuriating psycho babble bullshit packed into those results that she could get upset about, and she does, but Mary’s eyes track over that one, most-horrible phrase over and over again: 

“Transfer of custody not recommended.”

Fuck.

She loses sleep over it, sneaks out of the apartment in the middle of the night and does cardio at the gym until she’s exhausted enough to head back home and pass out. It pisses her off that this is such a thing now. She doesn’t want to be special needs, she should have the right to choose whether she even wants treatment or not! She resents the hell out of Bucky and Steve for having custody of her the way that they do. They’re clearly expecting her to blow up or something, after the news from Linda and the SSITA results come in. It’s so obvious that they’re walking on eggshells around her, Mary halfway wishes they’d just do something. One way or the other, it’d be better than this.

Linda claims that they’ve expressed “positive feelings” about a sexual dynamic, but if they have, they sure aren’t expressing it to Mary. She suspects that most of that positivity has come from Steve, and probably only because he’s a golden retriever in human form who just wants to do what’s right and good, not because he or Bucky are particularly attracted to her.

While she has managed to clean herself up quite a bit since moving in with them, Mary isn’t delusional: she realizes that Steve and Bucky are very attractive men, whereas she’s just average. She tries to tell herself she’s fine with that. She knows Bucky and Steve could probably get like, a supermodel to sleep with them if they really wanted to. Mary’s not in their league, and that’s okay. 

But if they’re not attracted to her that way then they should at least have the decency to just say so! At least then she could find someone else, get back on Tinder, or even sign up for one of those ProDoms that the CDP has. Darcy said Thor was good, so maybe Mary could request him? The way that Darcy had described the guy, he sounds like he's a hunka hunka burning Nordic god. Mary could go for that.

She brings it up casually over dinner, framing it lightheartedly, and Bucky literally crushes his water glass in his prosthetic hand. “What?” he snaps, frowning down at the mess he’s just made. “No.”

Mary huffs and goes to fetch the desserts while Steve gets the waste bin and begins scraping the broken pieces of glass into it like it’s just another Tuesday. “I don’t see why not,” Mary complains from over at the counter. She’s pulled the plates out from the fridge and grabs the butane torch for the meringue.

“Jesus,” Bucky exclaims when he sees the industrial sized torch she's wielding. “Where’d you get that?”

Mary purses her lips as she focuses on achieving the perfect amount of toastedness. “Hardware store,” she mutters. “So why can’t I go see one of the ProDom’s again?” She purposefully over-torches Bucky’s meringue, because she can tell that this isn’t going to go her way. “Sounds like a win-win. You don’t have to deal with me, I can meet new people, and insurance pays for it. What exactly is the problem?” She’s trying to force him to admit that he doesn’t want to Dom her sexually, trying to get him to see that something’s gotta give and he’ll have to let her use one of the ProDoms eventually if that’s what the severity of her “condition” requires (gigantic ‘Ew’). 

But frustratingly, he refuses to engage with her on the topic. “It’s a no, Mare,” he tells her sternly. “Pros are for people who have more experience. You don’t.”

Mary seriously doubts that. “Linda didn’t say that,” she argues, carrying the plates over to the table and handing the nice one to Steve and the burnt one to Bucky. 

He pulls it closer to himself and raises an eyebrow at it. “Linda’s being diplomatic,” he mutters. “I thought you said you were making s’mores?” 

Yesterday, Bucky had been talking with Steve about how much they both missed their old camping trips they used to take. The two of them must’ve waxed poetic over campfire s’mores for ten whole minutes. So Mary thought this would be an excellent way to butter them up. Apparently not.

She sniffs and picks up her fork. “They are s’mores. It’s a plated dessert, Bucky. An interpretation. It’s not literal.”

He grunts and peers at his portion, poking it dubiously with his fork. “What’s it made of?”

Mary heaves a sigh and snottily recites: “Honey Sablé, 70% Valrhona cremeux, cold-smoked Italian meringue, torched ‘mallow, Graham crumb streusel, and tempered chocolate stick for garnish." Both Bucky and Steve stop poking at their plates and just stare at her for a second. 

“Sounds good,” Steve chirps, and digs into his.

Mary stares Bucky down, until he too, deigns to eat the apparently too fancy for him version of a  s’more. “Oh, damn,” he says after the first bite, looking taken-aback. “I can taste the smoke.”

Mary preens, then asks again about the ProDom. “Well if I’m not getting it there then who the heck’s supposed to fuck me?” she winds up blurting out of frustration.

When that direct reference doesn’t elicit any response from Bucky besides a barrage of bossy instructions for after-dinner cleanup, Mary loses a bit of the hope she’d been holding onto that maybe Linda was right about them being attracted to her. She just gave him the perfect fucking opening, and he didn’t take it. She gets the kitchen cleaned up from dinner, resigning herself to another evening of platonic domination that doesn’t quite hit the spot. 

Nightly drops are nice. Not as nice as they were in the beginning, the effects having waned quite a bit from what they once were, but still better than no drops at all. 

Mary sits on her pillow on the floor, head on the couch cushion next to Bucky’s thigh, listening vaguely to the sound of the television while she enjoys the feeling of his fingers carding through her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. It’s been a while now, and she doesn’t think she’s going to get any deeper. It’s late, already they’ve watched two full episodes of their show, and Mary’s got work tomorrow. It’ll be bedtime soon. 

A big yawn works its way up in her throat, and Bucky chuckles when it finally breaks free. “Tired?” he asks.

“Mmhm.” She inhales deeply and sits up, sleepy and squinting. It takes a moment before her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and Bucky’s form sitting right in front of her. Wow, she’d been really close to him, hadn’t realized just how close. Had she been … hugging his shin? God, she hopes not. Not like she hasn’t spent whole evenings fantasizing about rubbing her face all over his thighs and his— Nope. Not gonna think about that when he’s sitting right there. She tears her eyes away and forces that train of thought to stop right in its metaphorical tracks. 

“You good, Hon?” Bucky asks, his soft voice drawing her attention back from her own head. She looks up and sees his fond expression, his relaxed posture. Wonders if he’s in Domspace at all. Probably not.

Then her eyes land on the line of his cock at the front of his pants. 

He’s hard. Not very, but some. Underneath his sweats his dick is chubbed up enough that it creates a slight bulge against the fabric. Mary freezes, staring for too long before she’s able to tear her eyes away. When she does, and she looks up, Bucky’s watching her with an inscrutable expression. Her breath catches and her mind goes absolutely dumb.

Does he want ..? Should she ..?

She looks back down at it, at the relaxed splay of his thighs. She wets her lips and thinks about reaching forward and sliding her hand over it, what it would feel like, if it would twitch, if Bucky would shiver or make a sound. She wants to touch it, and seriously considers doing so, but when she looks up at Bucky again, he doesn’t look like he’s excited, or anticipating her touching him. He looks … resigned. 

“Tired?” he asks kindly. "Do you maybe ... Do you need anything else tonight? From me?"

Mary's lips part, heart leaping at what that might mean ... but then Bucky looks over at Steve with visible yearning in his eyes, and the two of them share one of their silent conversations, brows pinched and expectant. 

Oh. Right. Bucky’s just horny and eager to get Steve into bed, wants to wrap this up. Mary wonders if he really can’t tell that she's not far down like she used to get. Maybe he thinks this is all she needs and he really isn’t going to take Linda’s advice seriously. Mary should be happy about that. After all, it’s what she wanted. Isn’t it?

She balls up the hand that she’d been imagining touching Bucky with and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, I’m tired. Think I’m gonna … go get ready for bed.”

She glances over at Steve, but he looks mopey and eager to get out of the room just like his husband does, cementing the notion in Mary’s mind that they don’t want to be with her that way. No doubt they will if push comes to shove, because Linda’s told them Mary needs a sexual dynamic, but it’s not something they’re excited about. Mary knows men: They’re not the sort to sit around and wait for a girl they like to make the first move. And certainly not a man like Bucky, of all people. 

She tries not to be hurt by it, but still gets a little weepy while brushing her teeth, the unintended rejection stinging more when she’s down in the tingly, vulnerable throes of subspace. She spits, rinses, flosses, rinses. Grabs the mouthwash that she hates to use but that Bucky has ordered her to always use after brushing her teeth at night. 

She says goodnight to Steve and Bucky through the safety of her closed bedroom door, and despite her voice being warbly, neither one of them knocks on the door to see what’s up. That drives the point home, and Mary tucks herself into bed with the mindset that she’ll let them know they don’t have to sleep with her just to be nice or to help her or whatever. She’ll just find a way to convince them that she really is fine with going to one of the ProDoms, and that it really is a better arrangement.

Better than a pity fuck, at least.

It’s disappointing to know that Mary prefers the ProDom, that she doesn’t want to make their relationship sexual, but Bucky gets it, and he knows that he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not exactly an easy person to get along with, after all. He’s prickly as fuck, grumpy, bossy, selfish. And aside from her natural submission, Mary’s personality clashes with his horribly. Steve is essential, but he just isn’t enough to successfully buffer between the two of them—not enough to make her want them that way, at least. 

Bucky can see the profound disappointment in Steve’s eyes that night, as Mary doesn’t react the way they were both hoping, doesn’t take the offerings Bucky puts out.

They have to let it be her choice, of course, having planned it out and discussed it between just the two of them. It's all anybody ever talks about in the D/s community these days: making sure subs are the initiators at key moments like this, not letting domination creep in and become manipulation-so easy to do with how naturally vulnerable and people pleasing submissives are. Gone are the days when Doms like Bucky were encouraged to guide new partners in the "right" direction. That leads to too much trauma, too many subs in situations they don't really want. Mary has to be left to make the choice on her own, it's her right.

But it's still the hardest fucking thing for him to do, to just sit there and wait passively. And it still stings when she looks straight at his erection and declares that she’s ready for bed. Well, if it wasn’t clear before.

Steve looks like a friggin’ kicked puppy, as he stands outside of Mary’s closed bedroom door and bids her goodnight. Bucky nudges him in the direction of their own room and murmurs, “Come on, Sweetheart.” 

In their bedroom, they each get undressed. Steve continues to mope, so Bucky goes up to him and places a hand on his shoulder and rubs. “Hey. Don’t sulk. You’ve still got me.” Steve’s mouth twitches in a small smile and Bucky’s heart flares with fondness for him. “You wanna play a game?” he offers, leaning in and kissing him once on the lips. “Mm?” He looks down pointedly to both of their boners that haven’t completely lagged since tv time ended.

“Okay.” 

Bucky hums and turns, putting his left shoulder out. “Lend a guy a hand?” Steve obliges. He removes the prosthetic arm with practiced motions. Bucky moans quietly at how good it feels to get the heavy weight off. “Fuck.” He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck each way with a blissed out groan. “Yes.”

“You’ve been wearing it more than usual, lately,” Steve points out, going over to set it on the table at Bucky’s side of the bed. “Why?”

He already knows: Bucky can tell from the way he asks it. He grunts and looks away, refraining from answering. He normally only wears the arm to work and to the gym, skipping it around the house or when he’s just got simple errands to run. There’s a surprising amount he can do just fine without the use of two arms, and he’s been confident about being seen in public without it for a long time now, thanks to Steve and their friends at the V.A. Being self conscious about it again after all these years isn’t something Bucky wants to admit out loud or think about, but Steve isn’t stupid. He can put two and two together. 

“Babe,” he says softly, walking back over to stand behind him. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and noses into his neck. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Bucky inhales deeply. “I know. I’m not.” Steve makes a sound that clearly says he doesn’t believe that. But Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it, so he reaches back with the only arm he has to grab playfully at the side of Steve’s ass. “Go in the bathroom. Get the water going how I like.”

Steve groans and thunks his forehead against the back of Bucky’s neck. “Not that game,” he complains, though there’s no conviction to it. He slinks off towards the bathroom to go do as he’s been told. “I hate that game.”

“Fuck you. You love that game.” 

Steve shoots him the finger from over his shoulder, but something about his naked body and tight little ass being on display strips the gesture of its animosity. He disappears into the bathroom and Bucky walks over to their bedroom dresser to grab a hair tie, still snickering. He sobers when he takes one from the valet tray and realizes that he’ll have to have Steve tie his hair back. That’s one thing he never could figure out how to do one handed. He stands there and looks in the mirror above the dresser, studying the left side of his body in a way that he rarely does anymore. 

He’s gotten so used to it: his life with Steve, whom he knows down to his bones accepts him unconditionally. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like to be self conscious about his body. Bucky hasn’t known how to talk about it, and Mary hasn’t asked. She’s seen him with his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, or in tee shirts at the gym, but that’s all so far. Sometimes he’ll catch her looking, but he’s got no clue what she’s thinking. He considers his reflection, looks at the scars and puckered skin, the implanted base of the arm where his stump used to be. He doesn’t like the uncomfortability of being critical of his body again. In a way, he almost resents Mary for it, for making that feeling come back after all these years. Silly, he knows. 

“Babe?” Steve’s voice calls out from the bathroom. Bucky’s ears register the sound of rushing water. “You coming?” 

Bucky inhales deeply and decides it doesn’t matter anyway. Mary wants a ProDom, not them, so he doesn’t have to stress over what she thinks about any part of his body, let alone the one part he doesn’t have.

“Yeah.” He turns his back to the judgmental mirror and heads towards his very non-judgmental best guy.

“Okay. Stop clenching.”

Steve exhales shakily, but he does obey, body slumping back against the end of the tub as he relaxes his muscles. “Fuck,” he breathes, overwhelmed.

“Hand too, Baby.”

His hand abandons his dick in the bathwater. “Ungh.”

Bucky smiles lazily and rubs the side of his foot against Steve’s hip in praise. “Good boy.”

They’re in the bathtub together, opposite ends, legs tangled. Their combined bulk displaces the water all the way up to above their shoulders, but that’s part of the game: they’re not allowed to splash on the floor, so they can’t jerk off very hard or fast. First one to splash water on the floor is the automatic loser and has to bottom the next time they fuck (Bucky added that little caveat because he’s very good at not splashing, whereas Steve is hopelessly clumsy and overeager ). “How you doing, Sweetheart?” he asks, drinking in the sight of Steve with his lips parted, chest heaving, squirming. He’s pink from temple to tits, flushed from the bathwater and arousal both, and Bucky loves it. “You’re not close already, are you?” he tuts, grinning. “So sensitive.”

“Buck,” Steve croaks, heated eyes dragging over Bucky’s body at the other end of the tub where he’s still gently jerking himself off. “Please.”

Bucky affords himself another toe-curlingly good swipe over the head of his dick before he nods. “Okay. Slow. Just like me”

Steve huffs and wraps his hand back around himself, stroking his dick in slow, measured strokes, just like Bucky said. Bucky’s guts warm and another heady rush of dominance swirls low in his belly at watching Steve do exactly as he says. “You can start workin’ it again, too,” he says.

Steve moans gratefully. “Thank you. Fuck.” His abs start clenching, his body straining again with visible tension as he works the Aneros that’s seated up inside him. Under the water, his knees move in and out in that instinctive motion as he tries to rock it just right. But it’s hard to do it with the water so high, and more than once he catches himself and holds back at the sight of the bathwater sloshing precariously close to the lip of the tub. At one point he gasps and his eyes slam shut, and Bucky figures the toy must’ve shifted to press even more directly against his prostate. 

“Ooh, does that feel good, Stevie?”

Steve peeks his eyes open, glaring across the way at him. “You know it does.”

Bucky does, in fact, know exactly how good it feels—because he’s got another of the exact same toy inside of himself, right now. “I don’t know why you still agree to play this game,” he taunts, grunting from the effort of holding back his own moan as his prostate gets a firm prod from the head of the toy. “You—nngh—you always wind up losing.”

“Yeah, well …” Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows heavily. “Maybe I don’t mind you coming out on top, sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Bucky scoffs, but he’s breathing heavier than he was thirty minutes ago, his composure slipping the longer he works the toy inside himself and jerks himself off agonizingly slowly underneath the water. In fact, he’s not even sure it even counts as jerking off at this slow a pace.

Edging is something he’d introduced Steve to early on in their relationship, as soon as he’d realized how delightfully sensitive his new boyfriend was. And Steve, the big idiot, had worried Bucky wouldn’t like it, had actually thought of it as a negative! An absurd notion that Bucky promptly disabused him of. Watching his ungodly sexy blond behemoth of a husband whine and squirm and struggle to hold himself in check is one of the fucking hottest things Bucky’s ever seen—and he’s seen a lot. He’d been a bit of a manwhore back in his heyday, racking up the bodies as he fought to find himself as a Dom and accept the body an IED had left him with.

Steve, his overly-sensitive, glorious hunk of a then-boyfriend, had helped him to do both. And it’s times like this where Bucky remembers just how goddamn lucky he is. Having Steve to love and fuck around with feels like the best gift in the world. 

At the other end of the tub, the water sloshes as something he’s done to himself makes Steve’s breath hitch in another helpless moan. He tosses his head back for a moment, eyes clamped shut as his expression crumples beautifully and he whimpers. Bucky’s ass clenches down hard in arousal at the sight, which only makes the toy in his ass rub over his prostate that much better. His cock throbs as his pleasure flares dangerously high. Fuck, he wants to come. 

Licking his lips, he decides it's time to end this. His balls are pulled up too close to his body, taut and full and aching for release. Trying to school his breathing into something resembling nonchalance is a lost cause, and his face feels almost as flushed as Steve’s looks right now. Bucky decides to call it, because even though he’s the automatic favorite to win this game every time, he is capable of losing, if he gets too caught up in ogling Steve’s body and reactions and doesn’t focus enough on playing his cards right. “Okay,” he finally says, smirking when Steve’s head jerks back to attention, his irises visibly flaring in excitement. “Yeah, Baby. It’s time.”

“Fuck.”

“You ready for the home stretch?” He waggles his eyebrows and lets his head rest back against the tub, spreading his legs wider and keeping his eyes on Steve. “Gotta keep up,” he instructs, even though Steve already knows how this goes. When Bucky tightens his hand and speeds up the pace of how fast he’s jerking himself off, Steve copies him. That’s how it is at the end of this—totally-rigged-in-Bucky’s-favor—game. They both jerk off at the pace that Bucky sets, and the first one to splash water on the floor or come is the loser. It’s not very fair, but Bucky never claimed he was a fair guy. He is, in fact, selfish as fuck. 

Lucky for him, Steve’s into that.

“Fuck,” Steve pants from his end of the tub. He slides down lower, keeping more of his body under the water in an attempt to prevent splashing. It’s a futile effort, though, because he’s doomed to lose anyway with the faster pace that Bucky’s set. Already, he’s going lobster red in the face, brow pinched and desperate, knees knocking the sides of the tub as he compulsively works the toy in his ass. 

The arousal in Bucky’s gut coils tighter at the sight. “Watch my hand,” he warns, when he notices Steve slacking off. “Gotta match it, Baby.”

“I am.”

“Tighter,” he says, eyes gleaming. “And stop avoiding the head. I can see you cheatin’ over there, Punk.”

Steve whimpers, and Bucky knows that he really wasn’t going as tight as he is, because Steve’s hand changes its hold and he starts getting the head of his dick with the same intensity that Bucky is. Bucky grins open mouthed, panting. “Atta boy.”

“You should—ugn.” Steve grimaces. “Should get a penalty, for being cut. I should get an extra, nnnh, th-thirty seconds, at least.”

Bucky laughs, because trust Steve to think of a sportsman’s solution to the inequity of their dicks. Steve being uncut means that it takes less intense stimulation for him to come. They both know this, Bucky loves this, and again: he never claimed the game was fair. “No penalty,” he grunts, speeding up his pace even further. Steve’s eyes widen but he matches it. Bucky grits his teeth. He can hold out long enough. Steve’ll blow in seconds at this pace. 

And sure enough, it’s not even twenty seconds later when Steve is crying out, body tensing and muscles straining gorgeously as he seizes up and starts to come. “Agh!” His knees fling out hard and hit the sides of the tub, splashing water over the lip to the floor below. But he hasn’t even noticed, he’s so lost to his orgasm. His asshole is twitching, sucking on the Aneros as the contractions of his body pull the toy up against his prostate again and again, drawing the pleasure out. He shoves down hard in the water and shouts louder, as though he’s getting a second orgasm on top of the first. “Ohnfuck …” 

Bucky groans as he watches it happen: Steve’s gorgeous face and juddering hips, big hand wringing up hard underneath the head the whole way through. The fucking sounds he makes, Jesus wept. It’s leagues better than any porn Bucky’s ever seen. “Fuck, Baby,” he praises. “Yes. Fuck that’s so hot …” 

Steve’s hand keeps working the whole way through, only abandoning his cock once it’s fully spent and softening, the cloudy ribbons of his cum floating away in the bathwater. “Fuck,” he exhales hugely once it’s done, letting his body go lax and slump so far down that only his face is above the waterline.

Bucky grunts and spreads his legs wider, not heeding the splashing rule now that he’s already won. The water splashes precariously as he shoves his hips down and down and down, squeezing the shape of the toy inside so fucking perfectly. Fuck, it feels fucking good working over his spot like that. “Oghnnn,” he pants, grunting and groaning and jerking his cock hard. “Fuck, Baby. You’re so fucking pretty. Fuck. M’gonna cum …” 

Steve gives a sated hum from his end of the tub. Bucky can sense him shifting in the water, and then gasps when he feels the ball of Steve’s foot gently press up on his balls. His eyes fly open and he looks down. “Oh, shit,” he whispers. “Fuck, fuck.”

Steve grins and rubs his foot against him. And Bucky doesn’t have that fetish, but there’s something so fucking perverse about seeing Steve’s toes up against his balls that it turns his brain to mush anyway and pushes him right on over into orgasm. He shoots off beneath the water, stroking and thrusting and moaning—and probably splashing water all over the floor just as badly as Steve ever has.

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[valorkook]

Milestones | j.jk

pairings: jeon jungkook x genderneutral!reader

type/warning: hospital!AU, doctor!jungkook, nurse!reader, romance, some fluff and angst on the side, tsundere!jungkook (cold, temperamental character), enemies-to-lovers trope, inaccurate depiction of hospital work environment, kind of inspired from Koi wa Tsuzuku yo Dokomademo and from my dreams lmao

word count: 6.5 k

summary:  After you were transferred into a different hospital department, you’re still getting used to the two things that bothered you in the first place upon arrival; the scream and the cries the children would make when a nurse, like you, is approaching them every time. . . as well as the annoying yet handsome doctor who never fails to test your limits since day one, but you are not the kind of person that easily backs down from these new challenges. You convinced yourself that you’re headstrong, but does your heart lie on the same page as your mind?

prologue | part one | part 2 

The jitters you began to develop while on your way to work today haven’t cease despite the amounts of deep breaths you took so early in the morning. The sun was only beginning to come up by the time you picked up your first cup of coffee in the nearby café, located less than a block away from the main building of the Severance Hospital, and yet it did nothing but increase the nervousness within you tenfold. The last time you remember feeling like this was when you were starting your first rotation as a licensed nurse, fresh from nursing school and was yet to hone the skills necessary in real-life work.

What one of your professors had told you was the truth; you ought to throw the things you learned in textbooks out of the window by the start of practicing your profession within the hospital setting.

And you were throwing every bit of studying you did last weekend, gone was your ability to recall the videos online that were supposedly helpful to refresh your memory regarding pediatric nursing as you embark on the same stairs you climb every morning. Except you’re about to take 30 steps more than usual, and you only got a second glimpse of the grand doors of the maternity unit then taking a turn left to do 15 steps more before landing on the third floor of the hospital. The whole floor housing the pediatric unit.

Gone are the usual beige walls that covered the majority of the hospital’s interior when you stepped into the main hallway of the your new ward. Instead of the aforementioned color, the walls on both of your sides were now covered with more than just one pigment. Animated fishes of different varieties were painted atop the waves that went on and on until the end of the corridor. It’s like visiting a marine park in Seoul where aquarium windows reach from floor to ceiling, though the fishes are unmoving.

You took a sip from your cup hastily when you arrived in the nurses’ locker room, where you’re about to change into scrubs but you left your tongue burning in the process. The usual pink and white patterned uniform was not present in your designated locker and was replaced with a colorful, confetti-like patterned top and plain navy pants to match the background of your scrub shirt.

It was awful, you internally groaned as you grabbed it out from its hanger.

The time was 6:20 AM when you stepped out of the changing room, and most of the crowd that filled the quarters reduced to merely two people which made you panic a little. Compared to the former ward you worked from, it wasn’t until quarter to seven that you’re about to start knowing the patients you will have for the day based on the hand-off report from the previous nurse in shift. But now, not only you were lost in place, but also lost in time and orientation.

This was not what you discussed yesterday over the phone with Ms. Jung, the head nurse of this pediatric unit.  In reality, the conversation you had with her did not even reach this topic; the unspoken rules that only exist exclusively in this ward.

You brushed off any stray hairs that lingered in front of your sight before you gulped down the rest of your coffee—which is still quite hot, by the way—and zoomed out of the room and towards the back doors of the nurses’ station.

“Oh, here’s our new addition to this ward!” a person who wears the same scrubs as yours, presumably a nurse like you, called the attention of those who are within the spacious station. The walls were painted a light blue tone, with no patterns that matched the design of the walls of the corridor. The main oval table in the middle of the station was filled with amounts of files and papers stacked and clipped into binders for each patient that is currently confined in the ward. Little to no pens did not litter the surface at all, as those can be found in the clutch of other healthcare staff or safe within the deep pockets stitched into their uniforms.

After scanning briefly the area for no more than seven seconds, you turned your body towards where the sound of the voice came from. At one of the corners of the station, where the computers are located at the table below the receiving counters, stood a man in front of it. No doubt another nurse as he adorns the same uniform, but your eyes were mesmerized at how he fits the scrubs.

Like he was built to become a pediatric nurse in the first place.

“Ms. Jung is currently busy at the back room.” he pointed behind him, not far off was a room separated by a blue curtain beside another entrance into the station. You noticed from his statement that he is not from the night shift but rather someone who will be joining you today. Hopefully, because you still feel like a lost kid at a grocery store.

He smiled, the whites of his eyes are nearly unrecognizable with the way it mimicked the curve of his lips, “I’m given the opportunity to guide you shortly before we start our rounds. Hello, I am Jimin, and welcome to the Pediatric ward!”

Jimin’s smile was infectious as your lips curved into a small smile, “Thank you for the greetings, I am _____.”

Your interaction with him somewhat gained a few audiences in the station, most of them started to assess your presence as the new nurse in the unit. Out of all the schedules of shifts you were allowed to choose, you rather chose the morning shift as your body clock was accustomed to waking up early.

But you don’t know that deep within the thoughts of others, especially those who are about to start the hand-off report to the next nurses in shift that will accompany you today, that you were brave to choose the hectic mornings that you will have from here on end.

Not far from the station, some footsteps began to trudge their way through the still empty hallways of the pediatric ward. While you were oriented by nurse Jimin with the location of different instruments used and restocked in the medical carts, the other nurses were starting to exchange information before the shift officially starts, before the doctors officially made their presence known in the station, waiting for nurses to instantly report the progress of each of their patient’s health and well-being.

The increased number of pediatric patients since last year was done with the strict routine that a doctor has applied on his team of healthcare professionals. With the emphasis on the word professionals, he meant that those who have gained their license to practice healthcare and can easily understand the instructions he would dictate without another repetition. He’s the kind of doctor who is passionate about treating each of his patients but refuses to show even a drop of empathy towards his team.

That is admirable, so to say. To see a doctor who’s not slacking off and is concerned with the individual needs of his patients, especially since his clients are children spanning from days old to weeks, up until to those teenagers who are a day away from turning 18. Yes, they’re still placed within the pediatric ward if they are even hours away from their 18th birthday. It’s hospital policy.

“Over there are computer carts, though there’s only four as we’re still in the phase of turning from paper documents to electronic medical records.” Jimin explained the situation on the large table in the center,

“Though there is one doctor who prefers the use of those computer carts, so you have to learn it within this day. I’ll—” he stopped to duck under the built-in table, beneath the computers installed on the station desks where you peek down to find pocketbooks lined up, “Here are the manuals, and I’d really love to show you how they work but I’ll have to receive my shift hand-offs right now before they come.” The orientation for you came to a halt when he mouthed you an apology, pointing at Ms. Jung who seemed to be unoccupied with any work at the moment.

The curtains have been drawn open by the time you meet head nurse Jung, who greeted you with a warm smile, “My apologies, I have been busy filing necessary papers but now I can continue where we—or you and Jimin left off.”

“Oh, he was about to show me how the computer attached to those carts works.” you keened, showing a manual on your grip as you begin to flip the pages.

“They nearly have the same user interface as what we use within the ward, but it gets kind of tricky to link the data input into the devices in this station. Come with me and I’ll show you how it works.” Ms. Jung was quick to approach the carts while you made a segue to throw your empty cup into the appropriate trash bin.

Though while booting up the computer, instead of focusing your mind towards the instructions shown on the pocketbook, you were rather distracted by the footsteps that approached you. Or the station, for that matter.

“Good morning Dr. Jeon!” Ms. Jung called for the tall man wearing a doctor’s typical white coat, his side profile was what attracted your sight to him instead of the bright light emitting from the screen of the computer beside you and your head nurse. Finally, he turned his head towards yours when you saw him completely.

God, he looks too young to be a doctor expert in his chosen specialty. There were nearly no blemishes that covered his face, no evidence of what struggles and stress he had faced during his internship. In fact, his youthful face, accentuated by the shape, seems like those who are about to start their residency. Fresh from med school, all-knowing kind of doctor.

Ms. Jung sensed that you two were focused on each other when she continues to speak, “This is our n--”

With one glance at your ID pinned at the side of your scrubs, he finally talked in a monotonous tone, “You, nurse _____. Let’s start the rounds.”

Both you and Ms. Jung were dumbfounded from his statement, though it didn’t last a minute and she started to convince him to give you time to adjust into this new atmosphere, “But doctor, I was about to orient them with how things run in the morning. Catered to what every other nurse this shift is accustomed to,” somehow, her words were lacking information. What routine do nurses have in this unit? Does it differ from what you’re used to?

He only cleared his throat, “I presumed they came from another unit, yes?” the head nurse confirmed immediately, “then they knew what they’re doing in this hospital. Choose a cart and let’s go.”

You stammered, “I-I, uh…” you hesitantly grabbed onto the bar of the cart, keeping the pocketbook inside one of its free compartments before catching up to the hasty doctor who’s leading the way down the corridor.

Back in the station, another nurse named Seulgi caught the sudden interaction between you and him near the entrance of the station, a wave of goosebumps appeared on her body as she gathering her mint green clipboard filled with the hand-off reports she was supposed to relay to you before Doctor Jeon arrived. She didn’t expect that he would be strutting earlier than his expected time.

She ran off of her seat in front of the computer, hoping to catch you and him still in the corridors before you enter a patient’s room.

 If you were to describe Dr. Jeon in one word, it would be cold. . . or cold-looking, if that’s even a word that any online dictionaries would confirm. One look at his face would tell you that he’s serious, like he hasn't had a cup of coffee nor a bun of bread to eat this morning. He doesn’t participate in any chit-chat much like the other doctors in this hospital. Most of the doctors you interact with are pleasant to participate in little talks, whether it concerns the patient’s health or simply about your personal life. Though with him, it was hard to initiate conversation at first glance.

You can see from the stitch embroidered above the chest pocket of his white coat, displaying his full name as Jeon Jungkook, MD. Weirdly for you, it sounds familiar.

Is he the most known doctor in this hospital? Is he the one responsible for the influx of--

“I suggest you stop daydreaming and start assessing the vitals of patient 325.” Jungkook, or Dr. Jeon rebuked. His left arm was still holding the door wide open for you and your cart to go inside. He’s only demanding for vitals yet he made you push the trolley from the station.

Thankfully, your routine of putting your handheld equipment in the pockets of your scrub and hanging the stethoscope over your neck made it easier for you this moment from embarrassing yourself. Placing the cart onto the side of the room, you approached the patient who seemed to be coiling himself in the arms of his mother. Seemingly scared to see a new face.

The tone of your voice shifts to a gentle one as you show the kid what you have in your pockets. Regretful to only pack 3 mint candies for you to consume later on, instead of buying any lollipops to give. While you were busy tending to the child, Dr. Jeon was already conversing with what you assumed to be the father of the child at the couch next to the bed. The mother joins soon after.

“Schedule another blood count for the patient later, I want the results by tomorrow so the family can prepare themselves for discharge. And--” he paused, seeing you only using a tickler and a pen, “why are you not inputting my orders into the computer?”

“I’ll attempt to encode it soon,” you tried to reason

“Don’t you know how computers work?” he disputed, right in front of the family of the patient. You feel embarrassed, like someone poured a bucket full of cold water over your body yet all you could feel was tears threatening to spill from your eyes at that moment.

It was an unnecessary outburst that he exhibited, much less in front of his patient as you blinked once, twice before you bowed yourself in front of the patient before leaving the room, dragging the cart from behind as you pulled the door open. A flustered Seulgi was waiting just outside the door when you stepped out.

“I should’ve approached you since you entered the station earlier, I didn’t know he would be choosing you to accompany him so quickly.” She managed to tell you, slightly out of breath from running after you, “I’m Seulgi by the way.”

You cleared your throat before replying, “I’m _____. Can you try to catch me up with the reports? As well as this one,” you gestured to the cart you’re still holding. Seulgi was quick to nod, immediately opening her mouth and pointing to and from the monitor prior to reporting the patients you will be handling today.

“You weren’t supposed to be accompanying Dr. Jeon during the rounds this morning, I thought they were still Dr. Park’s patient and yet she hadn't shown up in the station earlier.” she explained.

A tsked from behind startled you and her, “I am pretty sure I had informed our head nurse Ms. Jung about that,” Dr. Jeon said in a matter-of-fact tone, “I never knew the experienced nurse who entered our unit is apparently not equipped enough in what we’re dealing with here.”

You took a deep breath before responding calmly, “With all due respect, I believe that I am perfectly capable to handle the workflow in this ward Dr. Jeon. If only you allowed me a little time to be oriented with the equipment you used here.” you gestured to the cart, “I am fine with being scolded for my wrongdoings, but doing that in front of the patient looks unprofessional on our part. Especially yours, doctor.” you continued, seeing his facial expression falter for a second, then disappearing as if he’s not guilty of what has occurred. First day of your work in this ward and you’re already looking forward to going home, and perhaps going back to the maternity ward sooner than you planned.

No way you’re letting anyone, much less a doctor, undervalue your skills that you developed over time. “You should know the demands of every patient prior to arriving in this unit, nurse _____. We suffer from the shortages due to incompetence from our former staff and I don’t want you to become a deadweight for us, tarnishing the reputation we built as well as the lives we’ve saved.” he huffed, his eyes glaring at yours for a few seconds.

“I won’t be a deadweight, I can assure you that.” you vowed, tightening your grip over the trolley.

“Or you won’t last another day.” he added to your statement, then he turned around and proceeded to walk away from where you and Seulgi were still standing. She only cheered you in a whispered tone, as excessive noise is prohibited in the hallways, before she trudged back to the station.

You went off to follow the footsteps of the doctor in front of you, being aware of what you’re about to prepare for the next patient. You believed that he’s doing rounds according to the chronological order of his patients’ rooms, and so you flipped over the paper of the next patient.

During the course of the rounds, there was tension between you and him. Though you were able to answer the questions he threw at you, he was still hostile with you. Maybe he’s like that with everyone except his patients. Head nurse Jung managed to see you from afar, walking a few feet apart from Dr. Jeon as you recognized the guilt and the pending apology she would give you through her eyes.

Truth to be told, Ms. Jung knew how ruthless Dr. Jeon can be. It was a mistake on her part to not check her emails from time to time as she missed the email from Dr. Park sent yesterday about how she would be taking a day off, never knowing that he would be the one to treat her patients in her behalf today.

By the time head nurse Jung was finished explaining the reason you were too early to face the most demanding doctor in their unit, he was long gone from the station. Finding no purpose to stay as Dr. Jeon already managed to see you inputting the data, which means it would appear right on his laptop when he comes back to his office.

“You see how he’s like a phantom lurking around until he makes his presence known when you make a mistake.” Nurse Jimin teased while you and him were on a short lunch break, “though I applaud you for standing up to him, other nurses around here gossiped at how he was the reason for the staff shortages we’re experiencing in this ward.”

You tilt your head in question, “Why would he be?”

“Some of us here are kind of afraid of him, you see how he’s gentle with his patients and their relatives yet he treats others terribly, like how he was earlier with you.”

“How did you know---”

“Word travels fast, I guess.” he chuckled before taking a bite from his lunch. With a mouthful of food, he still replied, “Seulgi heard the commotion, the doors here can only muffle sounds but we can recognize his voice whenever Jungkook is aggravated.”

“Are you close to him?” you asked.

“Yeah, we attended the same nursing school.” Jimin casually replied.

You gasped, “wait, he’s also a nurse?”

“Yep, that is why he can criticize our work from time to time. Though he applied for medical school right after we got our license.” Jimin was quick on consuming his meal, now already packing his lunch boxes splayed onto the small coffee table in the lounge room tucked behind the station.

No more than a minute and he spoke, “It was nice talking with you, _____!” and waved his hand goodbye before he was off to continue his tasks before his shift ended. Which leaves you alone to yourself, perhaps with some other nurses whom you had yet to meet or introduce yourself personally.

The awkward atmosphere after Jimin left returns. And now you attempt to consume the rest of your packed lunch so you can start medical administrations towards your patient. You recalled earlier at how head nurse Jung would make the effort, insisting you to let her assign you to other patients that are not handled by Dr. Jeon, but you kindly declined since you are becoming accustomed to the needs of those patients. Not mentioning how you are determined to prove him wrong by successfully doing the tasks delegated to you, as well as adding your own insights that may be helpful in determining the prognosis of every patient assigned to you and him.

The empathetic side of you was quick to forgive his actions earlier, call it the attitude that you essentially developed back in nursing school. You never once doubted your ability when you started working in this hospital, and your evaluation forms from your former head nurse can prove that. As head nurse Jung has told you, you were still about to learn the difference of workflow that you established back in the maternity ward with what you’re currently grasping in their unit. You were never meant to work with him on your first day here, perhaps on day three with what she has scheduled for you and the other nurses in the morning shift.

You were glad to have Jimin and Seulgi, though she was long gone when you finished your rounds with Dr. Jeon. . . and the fact that she’s quite the blabbermouth with what has transpired between you and him travelled so quickly, from one mouth and ear to another.

The rest of your shift was peaceful, to say the least. You guessed that Dr. Jeon won’t drop by until later after your work so you were busy compiling documents needed to be printed and filed according to the patient’s medical information, as well as making discharge plans with other patients that are bound to be leaving the hospital the next day. Your hands were aching to a point where you keep shaking them from the pain that radiates through your fingertips, and time seemed to pass by when you saw that it was already 15 minutes since the end of your shift.

Most of the nurses you recognize earlier in the morning, including Jimin, are nowhere to be found at this time. They must’ve given their hand-off reports earlier before the time struck 14:00. While you were busy, you were beginning to proceed with your own reports towards the next nurse in shift.

“It’s your first day and you’re handling Dr. Jeon’s behavior,” nurse Nari, the one who’s about to take over your patients in the afternoon till evening, mused. “How was he?”

“Tolerable” you mumble, afraid that he might hear you even though he was still not in the nurses’ station.

She laughed only in return, “Oh he was intolerable for me on my first day here, but soon enough he softened up to me.”

You raised your brows, “Are you and him. . ?”

Nari shifted to full-on giggling, “No! But maybe someday when he’s ready to start his love life, I might do a little flirting here and there. For now, he’s focused on being a doctor full-time; he never bothered to go out on dates and he’s always found in his office at any time of the day.”

You hummed with the information she has revealed to you, though at first you couldn’t care less about the little deets about his personal life. Silence lingers for a bit before you continue to wrap up your work for today, “It was nice talking to you, Nari.”

“You too, _____.” She smiled before waving you goodbye as you were off to find head nurse Jung, itching to go back home in the apartment you are renting two blocks away from Severance hospital.

A week has passed since you started to continue your nursing practice in the pediatric ward. So far, you have set up a routine you follow religiously that enables you to finish all of your work on time. Though there are still a few things that you’re still getting used to,

The first is children who cry when you’re just about to give them syrup medications daily, and the second is the most demanding doctor that ever existed in this ward. . . or rather in this hospital. Although you cannot make a concise statement when you haven’t attempted to transfer to other facilities in this institution other than the maternity and pediatric unit.

There are moments where you see him in a good light; Dr. Jeon Jungkook’s attempt to give a small smile to other staff (or in this case it was just the head nurse and Jimin) and only hummed whenever you give your suggestions pertaining to the well-being of the patients you two were handling every day. Oftentimes you see him in a bad light; a short-tempered doctor who’s trying hard to tolerate other nurses’ attempts at providing a satisfactory result that reaches his criteria or whatever standard he has curated on his own and for the others to follow.

You haven’t had the time to figure out what kind of level he expects others to reach, considering that you were not always assigned to him. With the way the head nurse mixes up the assignments so you could take a breather from him, and for every nurse to ensure the quality of their work is up to what he wants in this unit. You see, you were late to find out that he’s newly appointed head of the pediatric department by the time you entered the ward last week, which only means that the internal pressure he has clearly elevated to satisfy not only the patients but also the administration of the hospital.

Gossips inside the ward would say that he’s working much harder than every other doctor in this institution to chase one thing, and that is to become the medical director of this whole institution. He has no time to create a network of influential people when his name alone can create a buzz in this place, no matter what department or ward you’re currently in. 

A loud clang of what you assumed are clipboards surrounded the ward so suddenly, snapping your focus from what you were currently typing on the computer when you hear the hushed scolding coming from the nook of the station. With the days you spent recognizing others’ faces and voices, you ought to know that Dr. Jeon was hot-headed today and he’s tormenting yet another staff member late in the morning. 

It was a miracle that he was not popping blood vessels when he has a hard time controlling his emotions from bursting like a balloon. Not long and head nurse Jung was quick to rescue another damsel from getting an earful from Dr. Jeon, like the way you experienced on your first day. You didn’t bother to look behind to see the commotion happening behind the curtains until someone tapped your shoulders. 

You looked around to see head nurse Jung, a kind smile adorning her features before gesturing towards Dr. Jeon, who was hasty in checking the charts from the clipboards containing his patients’ profiles. You knew the look she was giving you when you stood up from your seat and approached the grumpy doctor at his seat from the other side of the station. 

With the professional front you’ve practiced every night every time you’re about to face him, you asked “Are there other tasks you want me to take over for nurse Gaeul?” 

He only sighed before looking up at your face. A tired look replaced his usual features before he glanced back at the computer, “Just keep an eye on patient 302 every 15 minutes, report to me when her temperature increased above 38 degrees celsius. Also, check her heart rate.” 

You only offered a single reply of agreement before fetching the patient’s paper chart in one of the clipboards he’s currently looking at next to his laptop. While your hands are about to made contact with the rigid plastic covering, Dr. Jeon was quick to grab your wrist. “Record it on a new paper, nurse _____.” 

His tone of voice was distant to the usual sound emitting from his mouth on a daily basis. It was smoother, a tone of softness lingers when he talked to you today compared to other days. Or is it just his voice he’s using when he was sucked out of energy to do nearly anything productive for a while. 

You only commented, “Seems like you’re tired, when did you last step out of this hospital Dr. Jeon?” 

Although you attempted making small talk, he felt like doing otherwise. “None of your business.”

“Okay.” you awkwardly replied, fleeing from the station after you mumble your apologies towards him. You hoped that no one heard of it except you and him, while he remained unresponsive in his seat with his right hand massaging his temples after you trudge your way out of the station. 

It was after you submitted your charts when you thought you would see the last of him, now that you’re given a day off from working tomorrow. You only hoped that the apartment above yours would settle down from making too much noise during your free time, you were generous enough to give them a few days (3 days would suffice in your own opinion) to completely move their stuff into the building. You didn’t know your new neighbors yet, but you were confident to assume that the people above your floor are the new tenants as the apartment has been vacant for a while. 

You took a shower when you arrived back home. Your slumped posture welcoming the warm shower, sighing in relief with the perfect temperature as you felt yourself getting sleepy in the process. A nap after this would appease your free schedule, containing no plans to even step outside and socialize with your friends who are working in other parts of Seoul city. 

Though your plans didn’t go to plan when you realized you forgot to take out yesterday’s trash. Now clad within your pajamas at 18:00, you begrudgingly picked up the plastic bags lying at the little foyer of your apartment and wore your sandals lying on the steps. You approached the elevators at the end of the dimmed hall, pressing the button going down as you patiently waited for the doors to open.

You nearly dropped the trash bags in your clutch when you saw a familiar face greeting your sight when the doors swung open. Inside the elevator stood Jimin, whose hair was still wet and was also holding recyclable trash on his forearms. A smile grew on both of your faces when you recognized each other. 

“I didn’t know you lived here?!” you exclaimed during the elevator ride down the building.

He replied, “Well, we just moved in days ago. We’re residing on the 5th floor.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re the one who’s been moving stuff in the middle of the night.” you mused, to which he only shyly rubbed his neck probably in embarrassment. 

“We’re sorry about that,”

You shook your head, “No worries though, welcome to the building!”

The elevator doors opened by the time you finished your small talk, but deep inside you were hoping to chat more with him as he has become a close friend of yours since day one. Compared to what you are currently wearing, Jimin seems to be preparing to go somewhere with the way he’s wearing a nice outfit; donning a striped shirt with black jeans and boots to compliment his figure. It was a miracle to still be fit despite the stress you and him are facing nearly every morning. 

“By the way, we’re going out to celebrate our moving in. Perhaps you want to join?” he told you while taking both of your time walking towards the back of the building, where the trash segregation is done manually. You instantly nodded in agreement, granting your wish to hang out with him at least once outside of work.

“We,” you wondered, “who did you move in with? Is it your significant other?” 

A chuckle left his throat only, almost as if he’s too shy to reveal who it is. “Well, I think you know who it is. I have been living with him though it feels like I’m the one who always occupies the apartment because he’s not home most of the time.” 

“He. . . who is he? Jungkook?” you joked, while Jimin’s glance was focused behind your figure.

“What’s funny about my name, miss _____?” Jungkook, once again, made himself known in the worst way possible. You nearly choked in your own spit, eyes widening in astoundment with your reply answering Jimin’s words. 

“Nothing doc-- I mean sir,” you coughed, “Jungkook-ssi. Welcome to the building you two.” You quickly strode away from them towards the glass door entrance of the back of the building. 

While you wanted to cower away for the rest of the night, Jimin never failed to remind you when and where you two (and Jungkook, apparently) will meet for dinner. “Let’s meet down at the lobby in an hour, _____.” 

You only raised your right arm, with your hand gesture agreeing to the arrangement.  

As the time arrived, you were clad from your sleepwear to wearing a simple shirt and jeans to dinner. They were precisely on time when you found them in the lobby once the elevator you’re in arrived on the ground floor. Compared to the usual white coat and formal outfit that adorns Jungkook’s frame, his outfit for tonight consists of loose clothing that barely compliments his figure yet screams comfortability. 

“Tell us when you’re done ogling at me because I’m hungry.” he snapped you out of your thoughts while looking smug. If he weren’t that handsome you could’ve smacked him--

Rather, you quickly averted your gaze towards his companion by his side, “You look great, Jimin.” 

A huff was barely inaudible from the only doctor in the group before exiting the building first, leaving you and Jimin to initiate the conversation on your own. Though he didn’t fail to include Jungkook into the talk, his responses were clipped to a few words only before resorting to silence. He was consumed with the handheld device in his palm most of the time, while simultaneously walking along the pavement. 

“Is he always that cold and harsh when meeting strangers?” You can’t help but ask Jimin who’s walking by your side. 

He replied to your question after looking cautiously at the man walking a few feet away from the two of you, “Not always, though he has the ability to sense those who are trying to score a date with him after their initial conversation with him.”

“So he doesn’t do relationship?” 

Jimin shook his head, looking back at Jungkook who did not make any attempt to remark about his roommate’s statement. “As far as we have lived together, he has never brought a date back home in the last few years.” 

The amount of pork belly you and Jungkook had grilled over later was not quantifiable with your fingers, but you three were still not incoherent enough to count the number of soju bottles that you have drunk during the span of dinner. You were still safe from stumbling your way back home with them. As much as your mind could still absorb the events tonight, you were still capable of comparing the sudden shift in Jungkook’s behavior as it was influenced by the alcohol content of the beverage. 

Your vision could barely capture how he looked tonight after drinking; red-faced and the creases between his brows were nowhere to be found. His eyes were bigger, brighter than the usual sharp stare that your set of eyes meet nearly every morning. The conversation you barely made through with him was now flowing at ease, effectively getting to know each other even though there’s a big possibility that you might forget about it when you wake up the next day.

“Does baby fever exist among the staff in the maternity ward?” Jimin curiously asked out of the blue, which made you choke on the soju shot you’re currently taking. Meanwhile, Jungkook only laughed drunkenly in response. 

“I don’t know how to answer that, but in my experience, I hadn’t thought of it. I mean, babies are cute when they’re still babies, not when they enter the age of 18 months.” 

Jimin hummed, still looking sober among the three of you despite drinking the same amount of alcohol, “Well, what convinced you to join the pediatric unit. Knowing that you’re aware of the ages of the patients we’re treating?” 

Okay. That was a hard question. Rather than replying first, you pick up another slice of grilled pork to eat and ponder more about your answer. The truth can inevitably cause a feud with the involved departments, good thing you have an ounce of sobriety within you at that moment. 

“Is it because of me, huh? You haven’t been able to take your eyes off of me--” Jungkook smugly replied. 

You interrupted him with a scoff, “Get off your high horse, I didn’t know you even exist until I saw your stupid face that morning!” Jimin only laughed when his roommate’s face became stern, with a pout that only appears when he’s had enough alcohol in his system. 

“How is my face stupid!? Children adore me whenever they see me, but with you, they suddenly cry. This face is the reason many people want me. How about you, huh?” Jungkook retorted, his voice slurring more than ever. 

You were about to answer back when Jimin suddenly covered your mouth and Jungkook’s, “You two had enough for tonight, even when you’re drunk you’re still getting on each other’s nerves. And you can’t use your normal voices, we’re not in a bar with booming music to raise your voices!”

Jungkook still tried to respond, even if the sounds were muffled to the point that you can’t comprehend the words he was saying but you were sure that he’s insulting you behind Jimin’s hand. Though it seemed funny at first for Jimin to see how the two of you are acting, he was worried after the bad looks you two were gaining inside the restaurant. 

“I think it’s time we head back home, you guys.” You couldn’t agree more, wanting to make Jungkook disappear from your sight at that moment.

#bts #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #bangtan #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fics #bts fluff #bts angst #kpop #kpop fics #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #doctor!jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst

[vickylamore]

Past The Breaking Point | Learn

ATEEZ x Female Reader

The revolution wasn't meant to be so gruesome. It wasn't supposed to be so violent. Peace and freedom were the only things everyone wanted, but corruption and dishonesty lead to where we are today. When you venture out of the safe zone in order to retrieve information, you come back to secrets unveiled and a possible genocide looming over your head.

genre: Dystopian/War AU, Rebellion/Revolution AU

warnings; death, violence, guns, conspiracy, wounds. (It's pretty gruesome, especially some of the scenes. there is some fluff though, not really.)

word count: 9.6k

notes; its comeback season (for me, at least). It's loosely inspired by/based on HALAZIA by ATEEZ (and you can't spell ate without ATEEZ, just saying). The story will be divided into three parts, the first one is learn. Hopefully, you guys enjoy reading :) it's very late, I'm very tired.

Based off of: HALAZIA - ATEEZ // Part One: Learn // Part Two // Part Three

Learning how to be an escape artist was hard. But like many other things amid the war reigning in the capital, you learned the hard way and conducted your first solo expedition six months afterwards. There were six small recording disks in the six major CORPS facilities up north; dozens of miles apart with different levels of security. The disks were circular and small with flashing red beacons underneath. If those beacons stopped flashing and stayed green, the recording limit had been exceeded. When Yeosang had told you that most were out of recording storage, you sighed.

Retrieving and replacing the small disks was nearly impossible and yet, it’s been three full years since you’ve done it. The recording capacity was about six months, capturing both audio and film, pictures and only turning on when a heath signal was present. It had been only four months since you installed the latest disks, which meant either they were planning something or the activity in those rooms was higher than usual.

The capital was a warzone for the last three years. The country had been divided into two sides, those who obeyed the corruption of the government or CORPS, and those who wanted something new; a new life, new freedom, a new world where they could live freely. 

It was the rise of a new rebellion that started the chaos, all because CORPS prohibited all use of freedom, rights and expression. 

Elders and children alike have been living in this rundown hellhole since you were eighteen, and still do this day, no efforts of peace have been made from their side. They want total annihilation of the rebellion you were a part of, the cult they called it— 

HALAZIA wasn’t a cult— not in the way they put it. A rebellion in which the slogan was Hearts Awaken, Live Alive and be the Symbol of the Sun was not the significance of some cult that wanted total world control and run some sort of dictatorship government. You all wanted freedom from the shackles they put you in, you all wanted an escape from the cruel punishment methods. How they abused the technology they had created thanks to their people and used it in such tortuous ways. 

And so, the capital split. CORPS had control up north with most parts of the east. The west had some control but it was small and had little to no power like the other areas. South and nearly the entirety of the west were run by ATEEZ, the core founders of the revolution, the core group you were a part of. The movement is exceptionally high in the west and progressing in the east, although it’s been hard gaining control and convincing those swallowed by fear and torment to change sides. There were also sectors in every part of the capital and running clocking-wise starting from the north, there were about twenty sectors per region.

The clock ticked five pm when you left the equipment room, your soft footsteps barely ringing in the underground base. Utility belt at your waist, black mask at the base of your face, watch with a built-in camera, gun strapped to your hip and of course, the small badge that had the revolution symbol, the ATEEZ flag, inside one of your pockets. You rarely interacted with your people and it wasn't because you didn’t want to. Rather, you were mostly the informant of the core members, looking for information and being one of the most agile ones in the foundation, you were needed for most difficult and complex situations. It would be detrimental if everyone knew who you were, even if no harm is intended. The badge was a piece of identity you would use only if you had to.

No one— granted, you hoped no one knew you were leaving. It wasn’t the first time you’d leave for these particular disks, but every time you did, it was almost like they were compelled to say goodbye in case something went wrong. Jongho did it last time and Yunho did it before that. Both of them should be some parts of the market a couple blocks down, probably seeing what’s happening in the community. Either way, Yeosang had already sent the blueprints of the buildings once again; news of renovations in the core facilities would change your infiltration path.

It was late afternoon, and riding your motorcycle by the time night hits would draw unwanted attention, especially if you were entering enemy territory with a curfew. You were going to wear your rollerblades, ones that would switch to your boots with a click to your ankles. Although it would take about two days to go to and back, it was better than getting caught because you were scared of a bit of cardio. The route was always the same, leave in the late afternoon towards the highest security facility and start there. It would be the most difficult and leaving would be even more of a bitch than getting in. The security would be less tight around seven and eight am when the night shift switches with the morning guards. 

You stopped at the telecommunication station, and grabbed your earpiece, wearing it as the connection lit up on the screen as ACTIVE. Your name popped on the screen, right under two other names, your pulse at a steady rhythm beside it. You stared at the other names, finding comfort in the way their heartbeats were steady. To the left was a small window open, showing where everyone was through small red flashing lights. Everyone was in their room, except of course Mingi and Seonghwa, who were out right now.

And except for the person behind you.

“Don’t say you didn’t know I was leaving, you were with me when Yeosang called my radio.” A soft scoff left his mouth behind you. You didn’t bother turning around and tightened the glove strap around your wrists. “If it were up to me, I would leave tomorrow.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Rather get this over with,” you finally turned around and stared at Hongjoong. “It’s odd that the disks are already at max capacity. It’s not normal.”

He nodded, “I know. I don’t like it.”

“Me either.” You closed your eyes. “But the sooner I get them, the earlier we’ll have some idea of what’s going on.”

“Be careful.” He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t pleading either. “Especially when you cross center. You’ll have a better chance getting into the biggest facility than getting through center.”

Eyes open, you saw that Hongjoong wasn’t looking at you. Or if he were, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Instead, his eyes were trailed by the steady beat of your heart. “I didn’t think it could get any worse,” you said with a whisper. “And until we take control of the east, it’ll be hard putting pressure up north.”

He nodded again. “I know.”

The Center was technically the truce zone but you’ve heard the rumours about CORPS deploying soldiers in every single building they could access. People still lived in those areas, and they would perform random searches on homes and kill anyone who was a part of the revolution. If they thought that you were then they’d kill you on the spot. They stopped trying to find the core members after years of searching, they're killing anyone who’d look at them the wrong way. Hongjoong has a younger sister living in the center, and frankly, it’s a miracle that she’s still alive to this day. Most of you had family everywhere, and most of them took part in the revolution— the only exception was Wooyoung’s father, who didn’t know his son was one of the founders of ATEEZ. When Hongjoong visited her about two weeks ago, he came back with footage of these random searches and an audio file that involved her directly with three CORPS soldiers asking her all these overwhelming questions about her family, friends and affiliates that could even be thinking of being a part of the revolution. It was crazy.

It was too dangerous to move loved ones, especially if they lived in parts like the north or sections of the west and east that were still considered enemy territory. If CORPS kept tabs on all their civilians and some suddenly went missing, it could possibly be led back to any member. Your identities need to stay hidden all the way until the end, no matter what.

You understood Hongjoong’s concern however; lately, tensions are way too high for comfort. Your people weren’t stupid, they were equipped with guns, vehicles, equipment and homes they could go to, especially those who lived in the south. There were markets, shops for equipment, and everything you could possibly imagine while the city was in chaos. They were forced to use their weapons on the infiltrating soldiers, especially near the northeastern borders where the enemy can attack at any moment. The bloodshed that was forced upon the rebellion is giving CORPS even more of a reason to be aggressive. The shelters that were scattered in orange zones (dangerously close to the northern and northwestern borders leading into the heart of the western region) didn’t have as much support, so they were less fortunate with access to equipment and medical supplies. They held their ground, and the rebellion made sure to help those outside the safe zones in all ways they could— hell, Mingi and Seonghwa should be getting back sometime early morning after visiting the shelters all over the city.

You walked towards him, a hand on his shoulder and muttered, “I’ll be okay.”

“No words of conviction will make me feel better.” 

You snorted, a small smile tugging your lips. “Send Wooyoung to the market up north later in case. If I need a backup, I’ll contact him and once I’m done, I’ll come back with him. Either way, he’s been itching to go out.”

You left him in the room as you walked out. As a good luck tradition, you touched the symbol on the wall, the ATEEZ flag which seemed to appease all your worries. Lingering in the doorway, your heartstrings tugged in all directions— it’s been a tough couple of weeks, one that no one was expecting. All sides were becoming more aggressive, it was far from the idea of peace and freedom you had in your mind.

Just play your part, you thought. Only time will tell.

~

Hongjoong was right, getting through the center would be the most difficult part of your run. It was an absolute warzone, no wonder he warned you. Getting to the center, because the base was pretty far south took about, on foot— rollerblades, the entire night. You were stuck in that hellhole for nearly two hours and had to venture and stay in a beatdown home for nearly half that time, avoiding the laser guns and eyes of CORPS soldiers who were patrolling in the late night of a cold spring day. Their flashlights were blinding and high vision too, forbid you were even caught with it, it would be disastrous. When you managed to leave and make your way to the first warehouse, it was already past eight. 

The progress wasn’t as long as you thought now that you knew all the new shortcuts to cut the distance short. But they were danger zones, and you had to always be on guard if you didn't want to accidentally run into determined civilians that wanted nothing to do with the revolution.

Getting and switching the first disk in the largest CORPS base was relatively easy. It was easier than the previous times. Of course, it was challenging; avoiding the cameras and navigating through the newly built roads were difficult, but there were fewer soldiers than at all the other times. You still remembered when you were almost caught the first time you did what you had to do and it really wasn’t fun. The hallways were empty save for the main rooms such as training facilities and medicine. There were also the meeting rooms, where all of them, for some reason, were occupied. You took pictures of evidence while crawling through the vents as quietly as you could before grabbing and replacing the hidden disk in the area you left it in. 

The distance from the first one was about thirty minutes if you were to drive, so it was nearly an hour for you to get there and retrieve it— and the distances between the other facilities were farther. Usually, it would take five hours to get to all six, and you’d add another four just to get in and out. Although it was the exact same order of business, getting inside and retrieving the disks was easier than usual. And it was the same thing for the third and fourth. When you got to the fifth facility, you almost didn’t go in. 

It was empty.

Not a ghost town sort of empty, but more than half the soldiers usually assigned to patrol were nowhere to be found. Your footsteps as you walked through the empty room almost felt hallowed. You hadn’t touched your gun during your entire outing and for some reason, despite the stillness and silence, you really wanted to have it in your hand. It felt dangerous to even breathe, you were too paranoid to let the base know what was going on, scared that it was all just an illusion and they were waiting for you.

But the attack never came. And it was the exact same when you went to the last facility.

Your expedition time was cut by a couple of hours, and now it was five in the afternoon. With the last facility being near the west border, you decide to stay in one of the few ATEEZ safehouses used by those a part of the rebellion and take refuge in hopes of escaping CORPS. It was an abandoned warehouse-like car parking that had a surprising number of levels. You knew they were in the higher parts of the building. In case unwanted guests made themselves known, they could use the fire escape on the roof or escape from one of the windows onto one of the buildings below. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been and so, the people who lived knew who you were.

Inside a smaller house, you searched for anyone who might be there before settling in the kitchen and leaning against the counter. It was the first breather you took ever since you crossed center and finally, with some time to breathe, you called base.

“Z to base,” you whispered, pressing the button on your earpiece until someone spoke. “Z to base.”

Your earpiece cracked. “Base to Z, go ahead.”

“I got the disks, and replaced them as well.” The disks were in your left pouch, it was one of the most secure places where you could store them. “I should be travelling back sooner than expected— can you connect me to Rouge?”

“I didn’t even notice you left,” San’s voice buzzed through.

“Funny,” you snorted, “and where’s Robin, I miss him at the comms.”

“Rude,” he whined. “Robin’s analyzing data with J and Cypher right now. But they’re here and they can hear you.” 

“What about Ace, X and Silver?” 

“Just walked in.”

“Alright, great,” you turned on your watch— why was, in reality, a smartwatch but anyways— and selected all the pictures you’d taken, sending them to the base computers. 

Wooyoung’s voice soon buzzed through. “Rouge to base, what’s up?”

“On a call with Z in the north,” San informed.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked quietly, going through the pictures, “I’m all set to get back home.”

“Already?” Wooyoung's surprise didn't go unnoticed. “You sure you did it right?”

“Don't test me, dipshit,” you groaned while sending the pictures back to base. “X, Silver— you there?”

“We hear you loud and clear, Z,” Seonghwa replied, “what's up?” 

“First, I'm glad you guys got back okay. Second, while you guys were up north, did you pass by CORPS facilities or hear anything unusual about them?”

“I heard that there was a lot of commotion happening at the main facility, sure, but it's always like that when we're up north,” informed Silver— Seonghwa. “Why?”

“Crow, I'm sending pictures to the base right now, you should get them in a bit— I sent them to you as well Rouge, make sure no one can see you while looking at them,” you clicked the send button and turned the watch off. “Usually, it would take me eight to nine hours to go through all six facilities— I would even do it over a course of two or three days depending on the situation. I finished in six hours today.”

Your watch lit up: MAIL RECEIVED AND OPENED.

You sighed and closed your eyes, “the photos were taken inside the CORPS facilities earlier today. The last ten pictures are images taken from facilities five and six and—” 

“They're empty.”

“Exactly,” breath caught your throat, the worst possible explanations running wild through your head. Mingi's words probably voiced what everyone was thinking. “The usual number of soldiers inside those facilities was slashed in half.”

“What the hell,” Hongjoong whispered under his breath. “What the hell is going on?” 

“It's almost like they've transferred facilities but they're nowhere to be found, and all the meeting rooms were filled, every single one.” The words held so much weight that it dizzied you. You hated going into something blind, with no information that could help or warn you. For the very first time, none of you could predict what CORPS was planning.

And it terrified you.

“Z, Rouge,” Hongjoong called urgently, “I need both of you out of the red zones and get back as soon as you can.” 

“What about the disks?” suddenly asked Jongho.

“No impurities were found when I scanned them, and even if there were any, I took the memory card and destroyed the devices. No trackers were found.”

“I doubt they know about them,” Yeosang muttered, “if they did, they would've deactivated them and lured her out in the next two months. They weren't deactivated until today, which matches up with her getting them.”

"I'm gonna stay at the second safe house in sector fifty-two until Rouge gets here,” you informed with a shaky sigh. 

“I'm half an hour out, I'll try getting there faster, alright?” 

“Okay.” You opened your eyes, dread filling your stomach. “Okay— I'll let you guys know when he picks me up.”

“You guys be careful.”

Hongjoong wasn't asking again. He wasn't pleading again either. It was an order to reunite with each and stay safe until getting back home. 

“We will.” You weren't even sure. “I'll talk to you guys later.”

You ended the call, your heart thumping in your chest, inside the ways of your skull— the dread caused nausea in your stomach and it shook your entire core. The fear of the unknown was a real one, it was a sort of fear you’d never wish upon your worst enemy. It leads to stress and anxiety, fogging one’s mindset to the point where one wouldn’t be able to think properly. 

And being on the side that had no idea what was going on sucked.

You left the small house after clearing your head and made your way to the second safehouse in sector fifty-two. Again, you knew most of the people there and if you didn’t know some, you were about to be acquitted soon. The rebellion wasn’t aggressive— the people in your community were some of the most loving and determined people you’ve ever come across. They were hardworking and wanted peace and freedom like the rest of the people that are making current historic markings in the revolution. 

You only hoped that the revolution would give them what they were yearning for soon.

Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, you walked towards the building. You flashed your badge to the people above, noticing they had hidden their guns as soon as they saw the symbol. Only the nine of you had the badge and only used it in certain situations. Forbid CORPS knew you had those badges.

 You walked towards the entrance, slipping into the open doorway and climbing up the different floors until you reached the floor where a group of seven people were. You had seen them before, for the last three years in fact. They were friends and good people. You nodded as a sign of recognition and walked towards them. Although your mask still concealed the bottom half of your face, you still smiled through your eyes. 

“Thank you for not putting a bullet in my head,” you whispered, your voice tired. Your eyes fell on the guns they had. Those were definitely new. “Wouldn’t want to waste a new bullet.”

“Pretty sweet, right?” One of the men, Alex, nodded and showed the weapon. “The commanders personally came by a few days ago; got new medical supplies and more food. And of course, the weapons.”

“Good,” you agreed. “Use them only when you need to, alright?” They nodded. You looked towards the path leading to another floor, “if you guys are still alive and kicking, I’m guessing she’s still here?”

“She never left,” one of the older women grinned, “she’s been up all morning tending to injuries. You should find her when you go up a level or two.”

“Alright, I’ll be staying for a short while before hitting the road,” you turned on your heel, “take care of yourselves, okay?”

“Hey, Commander Z,” one of them called right before you went up. You turned your head over your shoulder. “How bad is it out there? The radios keep reporting hundreds dying every single day and most are our people.”

You inhaled deeply. The facilities being nearly vacant, the CORPS soldiers that are nowhere to be found— where the hell do you even begin?

They were in the west, specifically near the borders. Although it was technically close to the revolution’s territory, it was still considered an orange zone because they were near the borders, on the north side of the northwestern border, and things were never really quiet. The center zones were as bad as the rumours were and you couldn’t imagine how it was in the east. With each passing day, people were dying and the government was getting more aggressive, a lot more than before.

“Being a part of the revolution means that there are times where it’s quiet, and other times, there’s bloodshed. Right now, it’s bloodshed.” The words felt heavy, the weight was sinking into your skin, as if it was the first time you actually acknowledged the fact that people lost their lives at a terrifying rate these past few weeks. “But keep standing your ground, that’s the best thing you can do right now.”

You climbed up to the next level, nodded and waved at the people, including the children that ran around or played quietly in their respective corners. Going up another floor, you watched as someone sat straight against a pillar and a woman was tending to their wound. You smiled softly and walked towards them. She didn’t see you since her back was facing you, but the boy did, he just didn’t show it.

“—just be careful next time, you’re too important to get hurt because you decided to do some parkour with some friends,” she was talking less like a doctor and more like a mother, you saw it in her eyes; the concern and worry, the slight disappointment as well. She looked over her shoulder, “you boys can help him to the lower level.”

The teenage boys helped their friend up. He had a bandaged ankle and split eyebrow; he most likely landed poorly on his ankle and fell to the floor pretty hard. He got off lucky though, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch.

The trio walked past you, nodding their heads. “Hey, Commander,” one of the boys said. You saw the woman turn her head at the word as you greeted the boys. 

There was no one left apart from the both of you and you fully waited for the boys to leave before saying anything. You walked towards her, her eyes softening upon your face. Once you reached her, her hand gently pulled your mask down. Her hand resting on your cheek, she sighed and dusted off the dirt from your face. 

“Hi, mom,” you smiled, a tired sigh leaving your mouth. “You know the boys will never learn, right?” 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t tend to their injuries, sweetheart,” scoffing under her breath, she brought you into her arms. She was warmer than you, despite living in a place with no running electricity. She didn’t age at all despite not seeing her for a little over ten months. It was probably the longest you’ve gone without seeing her; the last time you were in these territories, you couldn’t stop by because CORPS soldiers were harder to shake than usual. You didn’t want to possibly lead them toward one of the safehouses. There was another a few buildings down and had a bit more people living there, a dozen or so. Again, they were good people who wanted nothing but freedom.

“How you doing, Z?” A pang reached your heart upon the code name. Looking around, you grabbed her hand and lead her into one of the rooms further down. There was no door and it was pretty hallowed, but it gave the both of you more privacy. She sighed, a small smile on her lips, “how are you doing, (Y/n)?”

“Tired,” your voice broke, everything you just learned raining over your head. “Everything’s kinda hectic right now.”

“So I’ve heard,” she nodded and looked into your eyes, a small source of hesitation behind them, “tell me, is it as bad as they say it is?”

You didn’t want to worry her. You couldn’t. The reunion after ten long and treacherous months was supposed to be blissful, not painful and full of despair and fear. But you could never hide anything from her, not even when the city hadn't gone to shit. And so, with a slight nod, you let your head fall, “it’s so much worse.” Your eyes filled with tears. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“From the beginning, sweetheart,” her hands found your shoulders, desperately trying to get her to look at you. “It’ll clear your head— even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“I can’t,” you whispered bitterly, a lump in your throat, “Woo is gonna be here in twenty minutes— if I start, I’ll keep him waiting and I need to get back in the south.”

She hummed, “that boy still is looking after you after all this time, huh?”

You laughed, “he’s practically glued to my hip. That’s your fault.”

“Well,” she smiled, “his mother and I are best friends, it’s only natural for you both to be close— but you surrounded yourself with a group of determined and really stubborn young men that want to change our lives for the better.”

You laughed again, blinking the tears that once filled your eyes away. You stared at your mother, the one that convinced you to continue in the revolution even when fear shook your entire body and wanted to give up. The woman in front of you is and will forever be your heroine.

“You may be laughing but I’m serious,” her eyes caught yours. “I know it might be really hard right now and I can’t possibly fathom what you’re doing through but don’t let doubt settle in here because it didn’t wait three years just for you to let it in now.” She touched the left side of your chest. “I didn’t raise a quitter, I raised one of the leaders of a revolution that will succeed. Difficult todays will lead to better tomorrows, remember?”

Nodding, her hands rested on your cheeks while your own held her wrists. You always wondered how she came up with the words of encouragement even in the darkest of times. Her eyes still held so much light after all the shit she’s been through; raising you a single mother since the age of four and having only Wooyoung’s mother as a shoulder to cry on when times get tough, finishing med school with her and becoming a pediatrician, she was the woman you aspired to be to this day.

“Thank you,” you let your lips curl into a small but genuine smile, “I needed it.”

She had opened her mouth to say some snarky comment or cheesy line but the words never reached your ears. And they never fell off of her tongue.

Gunshots from across the block tore your head away from her hands, and screams and cries for help fell silent a few seconds later. The shots came from the first safehouse in sector fifty-two. In the distance entering the building were none other than CORPS soldiers with heavy guns and masks, shooting every single person, elderly or child, they could find. You watched in absolute terror as they gunned down a teenage girl, pleading to spare her life only to stop upon a gunshot wound to the head.

“What the hell—” your words fell on deaf ears.

From below, a yell of pure panic begged everyone to get down boomed throughout the entire facility. You ripped your head towards the open floor, just quick enough to see a small circular device being thrown from one of the frameless windows and roll on the ground.

Shit.

Grabbing her shoulders as fast as you could, you pulled your mother to the floor, just as the can exploded and thick, yellow gas quickly filled the space you were in. The fog filled every corner of the level in literal seconds, the smell irritating your throat and lungs. 

“Don’t breath in the gas,” you instructed quickly, pulling up your mask back up to your nose and grabbing your gun, “stay low and don’t make a sound—”

“It’s CORPS soldiers!” Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Alex’s voice yelled amid the gas. “They have us surrounded—!”

Gunshots silenced him.

The sound came from all over, the gunshots and the screams of pure terror and fear filled every single floor. Cries and pleads become hallowed whispers and croaks as the people— your people were silenced. You moved to the center of the floor in a hurry, rushing towards the entrance to the upper floor. Your eyes looked outside the window, your finger pulling the trigger and hitting the soldiers hiding in the buildings below, taking cover behind the walls when a retaliation came. Gunshots came from everywhere, if they came from your people or CORPS— you didn’t know.

The bullets shot from your gun hit their target, but there were more CORPS soldiers than the bullets inside. They weren’t stopping until every single one of you was dead. 

You ran back to where your mother was, shooting the soldiers below once more. “We gotta go and we gotta go now,” you rushed, voice stern. “I can’t hold them off and I don’t know if those below us can either.”

The cries and screams continued to run up the walls. The building shook as the soldiers infiltrated the building. 

Your mother nodded her head, “okay.” 

Shots came from all directions again.

“We’re going from the back windows, alright? When I tell you to, you run and you don’t look back. There should be a building, not too high but you gotta jump down and run, okay? I’ll be right behind you.”

Gun in hand, eyes barely glancing outside and shot the soldier that lined his rifle with your mother’s head. “Go.” She ran behind you, crouching and hiding behind the large pillars that supported the foundation. Shots came as they saw you both running and in retaliation, you shot back. 

They just kept coming. There was no end. 

You hide behind a pillar, catching your breath as you changed the gun sleeve, load another round of ammunition and put the older one in your pouch. 

“To your left!”

In a swift motion, you pointed your gun, shot the soldier at the window and watched him fall.

But his bullet shot before you could stop him. You barely saw it travel through the smoke.

A cry, soft and quiet, barely caught onto your ears. In a panic, you turned around, your worse fears coming to light.

Red pooled from the middle of your mother’s chest and from her crouched position, she fell to the floor. 

“No—” you cried, rushed— the words rushed out of your mouth. “No, no, no, no.”

You rushed towards her, pulled down your mask, fell to your knees and went to press your hands to her chest. She grabbed your wrists before you could. Your eyes wide, both out of panic and surprise, stared down. “Mom—”

“Go.” it was rushed, forced out of pain and anguish, it was drawn out and the voice broke at the end. Tears filled her eyes. Tears you never thought were possible to see in the eyes of your heroine, your mother, the only one that genuinely made you who you were today. But there they are, staring back at you all wide and red. 

You wondered if the tears were from the smoke— if they made her cry even more… the air was thick and yellow, and filled with gas— tear gas, ones that made you cry and made your lungs burn. Or was it the pain in her chest, the one you couldn’t take away?

The building shook again, and the numerous stomping and yells from below only crept the ever-lasting story of the abandoned warehouse many took refuge, in including yourself and the only person you called home. They all ran, they all wanted freedom, wanted something more— and if living in a warehouse with people who agreed and believed in the same things you did, believed for a better future, then let them have their freedom.

But life isn’t fair.

“Mom— no,” you held onto her hand, forced your fingers between hers, and tried pulling her up and run away with you. “Mom.” But she couldn't, not in her condition. Bullets flew once again, and dozens of people started falling, yelling, and crying out of pain. Red soon stained the floors, and the yellow smoke continued creeping up the walls, the windows, and the stairs all the way to the top floor. 

They’re coming.

“Mom—” she shook her head, having no words to say anymore. Your eyes filled with tears, more than hers. They fell faster, harder and heavier. Hers weren’t even out her eyes. You weren’t ready for this— for a goodbye. Not like this, not today. “Ma, please.”

She cupped your face, her fingers shaking, her breath quivering. Her words, as soft and quiet as ever, “go, sweetheart.” You couldn’t even look her in the eyes. “You’re time is not now.”

“Let it be,” you wanted to yell, let the world know that it wasn’t fair but your voice came out in a pitiful excuse of a whisper, of a desperate cry. “I can’t be without you, not now. Not when we’re so close.”

Soft eyes stared back at yours, ones that were quickly losing their light. The blood that escaped from her chest wound was dangerously close to your shoes. She recognized this. “The revolution needs you, those people need you. I need you to be with those boys.” The words were quiet and shaky yet there was no room for argument. The fingers on your cheeks lost their grip but the smile she gave never lost its happiness, nor did it lose its light. She pulled up your mask, letting the fabric fall right on top of your nose. “Go, sweetheart— don’t let them scan your face. Go, now. I love you.”

Those words. I love you. So easily said and quickly forgotten until it means something more. No one could ever say I love you after the past had been written, not even you. 

The words that were right there on the tip of your tongue never escaped your mouth. With all her strength, she pushed you away from her just as CORPS rushed up the stairs. The shots came first— the one meant for you was guarded by her. 

And they came again, and again, and again.

You scrambled to your feet, rushing behind a pillar, mind clouded and head heavy. It rang, it rang really bad. The bullets kept flying, toward you and any survivors. Clouds of dust erupted from the ground from the bullets that were shot— screams and cries of mercy ripped the throats of the ones wishing for their own freedom in this cruel world. 

Your legs moved before your mind understood what was going on, your eyes fixated on the open window that would lead you to an open roof of a building down below. It was going to hurt trying to land on it, and the odds of avoiding a bullet in your head were slim to none. They knew where you were, and the voices that came out robotic and menacing from beneath the helmet assured you that they weren’t going to show any mercy to anyone who was a part of the revolution. But your ears still rang from all the shots echoing in the wide now empty level of the warehouse, you couldn’t hear what they were saying or whatever gibberish they were spouting.

It all sounded the same.

The utility belt around your waist held three items that could help you, your radio in case your in-ear communicator wasn’t working, your gun and a smoke bomb. What a beautiful retaliation it was and how easy it seemed to take your weapon and kill every single one of them. Shoot them between the eyes or in the back of the head as they did the civilians. How easy would it be to die here, right now because you drew your gun once more in hopes to abolish the anguish of your shaking heart after witnessing the death of your mother?

It would be so easy. Too easy.

You grabbed the smoke bomb, pulled the switch, and threw it behind you. The makeshift can fell to the floor and rolled before detonating within seconds. The fog was purple, unlike the yellow from earlier. It didn’t sting the eyes like the other either, but it was thicker than whatever garbage the soldiers threw. Activating your rollerblades, your body moved, running towards the opening of the building. The cement floor captured your hassling footsteps and the CORPS soldiers who were blind from all angles, started shooting into the air. 

Your legs jumped onto the seal and clung onto it, observing your escape route as your mind continued to swirl. Your body leapt out of the building and landed on the slanted roof below before running for safety. A safehouse marked by ATZ would help tremendously, but no one was safe anymore. All conquered zones seem to be infiltrated by the government that is still somehow running this broken and run-down world, one that was once filled with goodness, even just a small portion had it all stripped away by war and greed.

The country was torn between people who obeyed the law in fear of getting killed and others who disobeyed in the hope of freedom— whatever freedom might be. 

The gunshots continued to blow and spattered across the very roof you were running on, shooting holes in the concrete below your feet. You've never been a fast runner, not as fast as some of the people you know. It wasn't your forte and will never be. Running brought too many memories, running was the last resort when you had no one to run to, no vehicle or place for shelter. You jumped onto another rooftop, followed by another before climbing up another you— they still followed from afar with their guns, even now from two blocks away.

You climbed a higher building, nearly the same height as the first. The roof the slanted, which should create some sort of shield between you and CORPS and—

The pain of something hitting your side brought you back out of your stupor. The weight of the impact made you lose control. Your rollerblades skidded across the roof, came to an abrupt halt and brought you down, rolled to the edge of the slanted roof and fell a story or two to the floor. Large concrete pillars that fell ages ago cushioned your landing— well, it was better than falling directly onto rebar if you were a tad bit closer to the corner of the roof. The moan that left your mouth was painful, a cry for help as you flipped yourself over onto your back. It took all of your strength to press a shaking hand on your wound, crying and yelling out profanities. You looked up at the sky, the grey and dusty clouds that seemed to pity your entire existence.

The wind blew across your face. You shivered. Blood spilled from the right side of your abdomen onto the floor below, the gunshot wound burning with every lapsed breath you took. You pulled your mask down— it’s getting harder to breathe. No matter how hard you pressed, your hands grew red as the blood spilled on the floor. The world turned black behind your forcefully closed eyelids. The heart in your chest beat out of control, pumping the most blood it can in the circumstances it’s currently in. 

Your earpiece cracked static and continued until a voice came through. The wind blew as night approached, settling into the evening. Crazy how quickly the weather changed. The voice called your name again until you found the strength to reply.

“Here,” the wind that blew nearly concealed your frail voice. “I’m here.”

“—what the hell is happening? Your heart's racing like crazy.” San’s voice clouded your ringing head once more. “Z, what's going on?”

A shiver ran down your spine as it got colder, the temperature changing at a rapid rate. Your breaths grew shaky, and your vision, although already fuzzy, grew fuzzier. Your shoulders slumped against the wall behind you as he called you again, urgently this time.

“They shot up the safehouses,” the words forced their way out of your mouth. “Everyone who took refuge there is dead… every single one.” Coughs erupted from your throat, both from the lack of oxygen you were getting because you were breathing too quickly and the wind blew dust around you. Squeezing your eyes in hopes of blinking the dizziness away, another voice cracked through your earpiece.

“Who did?” Hongjoong asked. He knew and if the entire team was still in the room, they knew too. You could almost envision him right now; he’s standing right next to San, eyes narrowed towards the screen, watching nothing but the soundwaves your voice produced. There was also probably the red beacon that blinked every second, signalling where you were. You wondered if Wooyoung’s following the red beacon, you hoped he wasn’t going to where you were.

“CORPS shot up both safehouses in sector fifty-two.” 

Complete silence was on the other side. No one said a word, and even if it was only  Hongjoong and San in the room at the moment, they said nothing. You tried to move again but ended up letting a muffled cry, your head spinning once more.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice a lot more telling, a lot more concerned. “Z, you gotta talk to me.”

“She’s about three blocks west of the second safehouse,” Wooyoung’s voice cracked into the conversation. You heard his motorcycle rev in the comm. “I’m a minute out, just hold on until then.”

They kept talking but no words made any sense. The world grew colder, the world was already dark behind your closed eyes. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. Your head continued to ring, and your ears are on fire. You can’t even mourn properly, everything was too exhausting, too difficult. The clouds in your eyes were stained and rained red, the blood of innocents spilling onto the floor. The sky thundered in anger, the bolts of lights dark with sadness. It hurt too much to think— the mere thought of your mother ached too much. 

You heard him before you saw him. You heard the bike first, the way it shook the ground you laid on. His helmet fell on the floor with a dull thud. You felt his footsteps against the ground before hearing them. His hand went to your ear and turned off your comm before he called your name. You heard him but had no strength to respond, tell him that you’re still here. Your breathing lapsed, and quickened, everything weighing down on your heavily.

“She was shot in the lower left side of her abdomen, losing a lot of blood,” he said. “—I don’t know yet. Checking now.”

You felt your body move, you sat up straight and rapid pressure on your side made you groan, slowly opening your eyes to see the familiar cherry red he recently before Christmas. “It went through— hold on.” His eyes, filled with concern, caught yours almost immediately. 

“Woo?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded and continued bandaging your wound, wrapping the gauze around your abdomen over and over. Eyes focused and jaw tight, he still managed to speak with the same voice he did whenever you were in trouble. “I’m right here— just stay still for me, okay? I gotta stop the bleeding.” You winced, biting back a cry as he tightened it. “I know, I’m sorry— lean your head against my shoulder if you need to.”

Banging on the top of the building you fell off of tore your eyes open and lifted your head to the roof. They were heavy and the same menacing voices broke through the silence. Mass footsteps cluttered the roof before going quiet. Small creaks soon followed.

Fuck.

His gaze followed yours. He heard them, there’s no way he didn’t. He turned off his earpiece. You opened your mouth but the look he gave you and a quick shake of his head told you to stay quiet. His eyes went back and focused on your stomach, finishing the last layers before cutting the excess and putting it in the medkit he had open. 

He took off his jacket and draped it around your shoulders. With a curt call to your name, you focused on his eyes again right before your own started closing. “Listen. I’m gonna pick you up and it’s gonna hurt like hell but it’s the quickest to get us out of here. It’s gonna go by fast and it will alert the soldiers but I rather not find out how many of them there are. I just need you to stay awake until we get somewhere safe, alright?”

You nodded. He pulled your mask up as he did his own.

Until we get somewhere safe. Nowhere was safe anymore, especially after what happened. But you trusted him, and Hongjoong, and everyone that led the revolutionary. You had to.

He did what he said he would and it hurt even more than you thought. You bit your tongue to stop the cries from leaving your mouth. One moment you were on the floor and the next, you were on his motorcycle with him behind you. You leaned against him, too tired to keep yourself up. Just moments later, he started the engine and sped away. Within those same moments, shots were fired toward you.

You closed your eyes, head ringing again from all the noise. Thoughts running ramped and yet, not one made any sense. Too tired to think straight, too tired to think. The noises started merging into one before none reached your ears anymore. You fell into a deep, comforting silence.

~

It was warm. You were warmer compared to before.

You were on the floor, but whatever heat source you were close to keep you from freezing. It was hard to open your eyes at first, and even when you did, an orange flame made you close them again. Your side hurt really bad, worse than before. But the heat was helping, maybe a little too much.

“— she isn’t awake yet, no.” A familiar voice reached your ears. “It started downpouring, I didn’t want her getting sick on top of her wound.” 

Wooyoung wasn’t too far away from you, a couple feet in front perhaps? “No, don’t send anyone our way. We already made it past center. We’ll be home by morning.” He spoke again. “I’m fine, I’m just worried about her.”

“We’re lucky the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, and that it went through. But I’ll have to see how she’s doing when she wakes up, there’s no telling until then.” He sighed. “I’ll call later, yeah— yeah, you too.”

You opened your eyes and turned your head to the sound of his voice. You were inside a small barn, you could tell by the architecture. The heat source was a pit of fire he must've lightened. He sat against the wall, eyes looking outside. They were cloudy yet deep in thought. You didn’t like seeing him or any of them stressed, it wasn’t good.

“Woo,” you whispered, voice scuffed and dry. The older man— in reality, it’s only by a couple months— snapped his head towards you and made his way over. He had his medkit in hand and crouched next to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, sending you a small smile, “how are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you groaned, inhaling deeply. “I feel like shit.”

“Figured,” Wooyoung nodded, “you’re gonna feel like it for the next few weeks. But as cliche as it sounds, you dodged a bullet.”

You sent him a knowing look, “that’s not funny.” Your lips tugged upwards.

“Maybe you didn’t really but it could’ve been a lot worse.” He took out another roll of gauze and bandages and a bottle of painkillers and another of antibiotics. “The bullet missed everything but an artery, that’s why you were bleeding so much. But it stopped so we should be fine, hopefully.” 

“Hopefully?” You raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you playing doctor right now?”

“You’re better at these things than I am,” he scoffed before closing his eyes. “It’s terrifying taking care of someone for the first time.”

You closed your eyes as well, “it is not the first time. In the early stages of the revolution, you helped me all the time.”

He laughed, “yeah ‘cause for some reason, you were clumsier than you are now.” 

You opened your eyes and sent him another look but didn’t say anything. A small sigh left your mouth, “how’d you get past center so easily?”

“So you were awake while I was on the call with Seonghwa, I wasn’t sure— sit up for me, I gotta change your bandages.” You grabbed onto his forearms as he helped you sit up, small groans of discomfort leaving your mouth. You pulled up your shirt— hoodie? You pulled up your hoodie as Wooyoung unwrapped the other one. “Easily is an overstatement. After we left the safehouses, I practically raced towards center before the curfew. It was hard but I managed to get us in undetected. You were unconscious when we got there but were lucky enough that Hongjoong’s sister didn’t lock up for the night. We stayed there for a couple hours, that’s where the hoodie and joggers came from— I also put all your things in my bag, including your earpiece and gun.”

You nodded your head. You didn’t want to see the old bandages so you settled for looking at your childhood best friend, and watched as he concentrated on wrapping the newer one. 

“They were doing the random searches again, and luck was on our side because they searched her home. I had to hide us under her bed to avoid getting caught.” Wooyoung recounted. “Anyways, we hit the road around one, it’s five right now. It started raining an hour ago so I brought us here. We should be entering south in an hour or two and then base two or three hours afterwards.”

“Good to know,” you whispered. 

He didn’t look at you. Rather, a small expression crossed his eyes. One that you didn’t really recognize. 

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

You hummed quietly, “yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your mom.”

Anguish filled your chest, and dread and agony soon followed. It was at the back of your mind ever since you woke up, but the words never crossed your lips. One moment, she was laughing with you and the next she was dying on the floor. You closed your eyes, hiding the tears that threatened to spill.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it,” he whispered, finishing the last layers. “I know damn well that when my mom passed away, I didn’t want to talk about it either— not even with you.”

At least they’d find peace with each other and continue to live without the other. Woo’s mom had died roughly the same way yours did at the very beginning of the revolution. The same young man that was in front of you had come a long way ever since it started. He had become bolder, more carefree and despite the fact you didn’t think he could, he sheltered his heart even more than he already did.

“But I learned that it doesn’t get any better— the pain I mean,” his words were heavy as he spoke. “And you don’t really learn how to deal with it. You’ll find other things to cope with rather than facing it head-on. If I did it, you’ll probably do the same.” He gently pulled your hoodie down and grabbed a water bottle from the medkit. “But after everything that happened, don’t try dismissing your feelings. You’ve done that enough. Talk about it with someone, I don’t care if it’s not me but talk about it with someone when you’re ready.”

With a shaky breath, you looked back at him, “how did you cope?”

A weighted question. How does one cope with the loss of a loved one? So many people have been coping with their problems, with death, ever since the revolution started. You wondered how some dealt with losing their entire family.

He put two pills, a painkiller and an antibiotic, in your palm and handed you the open bottle. “You first start with acknowledging your pain. Although everyone deals with loss, your pain is yours alone. Don’t try to compare it with others. That leads to denial and pushing your feelings under the rug.” He sat next to you. “I had to force myself to acknowledge that her death wasn’t my fault, that I wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger— even if it felt like I did.”

“It feels like I did,” you whispered, “she was right there and I didn’t react fast enough to stop that soldier from shooting her.” You swallowed the pills. The lump in your throat made it difficult.

You blinked the tears away, “she’s gone.”

“I know.”

“They're all gone,” tears filled your eyes. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your vision cloudy with tears. “Where did I go wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t—” you swallowed the jump in your throat. “You don’t know that. You weren’t there.”

He turned his head towards yours, “I didn’t need to be there to know that you did everything you could.” Wooyoung let out a heavy breath, "their deaths aren't on you."

You opened your mouth to retort, to say something else, but they fell on deaf ears. Instead, you heard the small buzz of his earpiece. “Wooyoung to base. What’s up?”

You watched as his eyebrows knit together, jaw tight, “what, why?” 

His shoulders tensed suddenly. He gently got up, careful not to move you and went to grab his radio. As he walked back, he flipped through the different channels, up until a voice, one of high authority spoke. The voice was gruff, menacing. You both made eye contact. 

“Who—”

“CORPS’ chief commander.”

A pit fell to your stomach.

“— Today, we successfully erased six safehouses that belonged to the rebellion known as HALAZIA, with the group named ATEEZ at its center. Thank you to the community that has helped our soldiers fight against the cult that is trying to take over the capital. However, I have made a shocking discovery that I’m about to share, so please, your surprise was my utmost sincere shock.”

The voice sounded familiar for some reason but since it was a radio transmission, you couldn’t put a face to the voice.

“In one of the safehouses, I, unfortunately, discovered the body of my late ex-wife, the name of whom I won’t disclose right away. She had a child, one that I didn’t know existed until a couple moments ago. However, because of this, we were able to identify one of the core members of the rebellion. (Y/n) (L/n), if you are listening to this message, I, your father, have a proposal for you.”

#vickylamore #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #vickywritings #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #ateez yeosang #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez hongjoong #ateez jongho #ateez seonghwa #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez x female reader #san x female reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #wooyoung x reader #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #san imagines #wooyoung imagines #mingi imagines #seonghwa imagines #Past The Breaking Point

[pupmini]

First Date Pt. 4/Final part! (Bang Chan x Reader)

!!PART 4/FINALE!!

summary: Day to day life was perfectly uneventful, you wake up, go to work, make coffee, go home, and start all over again. But today... you met Chan. And you continue to meet chan... every day.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, some anger from mc, later chapters to include: slight angst/comfort, slow burn.

general warnings:  barista!mc, slow burn, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, cursing, mentions of death.

word count: ~4.8k

chapter content: mentions of food, coffee shop manager!Changbin, nonidol!Chan, nonidol!Han, first meets, first love flutters.

author's note: The last and final part of my mini series! This was based off the song I Think I Know You by Sarah Barrios and Eric Nam! Please give it a listen for the full experience!! I'm so glad to see so many people who enjoyed this series, I had originally meant to just write it for my best friend and leave it in google drive lol but I figured why not share it with everyone on here anyway yk? ANYWAY PLEASE ENJOY IT!!!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Chris’s eyes were wide as he stared at you, searching for some kind of answer from your eyes. Something finally broke through to you, and Chris had to know what it was in case it doesn’t happen tomorrow. He had put too much effort and time into you to let this just slip out of his fingers. He let out a soft laugh and moved his head to be in your line of sight. 

“No, no, what did you remember?” Chris persists, smiling through the surprise in his eyes.

You laughed slightly, taking the football from his hands and holding it up, “It’s nothing I just-- I must have dreamt it, but I remember playing this with someone.”

You had to’ve dreamed it, it was the only excuse you could come up with. Chris is just a new customer to the cafe, and you’ve never met him ever in your life. You laugh it off, and look down at the cafe table with a light flush on your cheeks. 

“I must have a knack for embarrassing myself in front of strangers,” You sigh as you recover from the moment. 

Chris couldn’t think of anything to say. His heart was beating so fast and hard that he was afraid you could hear it from across the table, and all he could do was smile knowing you had remembered him from day one. 

He cleared his throat, and placed his phone down on the table, “I don't think it’s embarrassing,” He pauses, “Anything else seem… familiar?”

You pressed your lips together and stood up from the table, wondering how weird you’d seem if you told him that his voice specifically was in your head, “Uhm, not… not really.” You shake your head at him, and straighten your apron.

“Yo! Chris--”

A loud voice echoes through the cafe, and you turn your head behind you to see another guy quickly approaching Chris with a big smile and a computer bag hanging from his shoulder. His smile was almost as infectious as Chris’s and you took a step back from the table so he could sit with his friend. 

You watch Chris’s eyebrows knit together, and his eyes flicker across his friend’s face in confusion, “Han?”

Han looked at you for a moment and then back to Chris, “Am I.. interrupting?” He asks, pointing between the two of you.

You quickly hold up your hands and shake your head, “Oh, uhm no. I just, uhm-- Thought he reminded me of someone but it was just a mistake.”

You watched the two boys exchange a glance you couldn’t quite discern, and Chris speaks up next with his eyes unblinking as he stares down Han, “Something about deja vu, you know how it is.”

You press your lips together into a tight smile before excusing yourself back to your work behind the counter. Despite the lighthearted exchange, the peculiar sensation lingers in the background.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

As you continue to steam milk and clean down the equipment, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to this odd memory than meets the eye. The cafe buzzes with activity, but in that moment, a subtle thread of mystery weaves through the air. When it slowed, you mindlessly sang along to whatever was playing overhead in order to relax and stop thinking about what had happened earlier.

Chris couldn’t help but listen when you sang. He’d heard it every day and he never grew tired of it, noticing you favored the softer, more indie feelings songs in comparison to the popular media that played between them. He always took his headphones down  from his head and rested them around his neck just so he could hear you softly singing, imagining that one day maybe he’d be able to mix something just for you.

You glance up at the two of them every so often, more specifically, you look at Chris. You chew on your cheek in thought, something was odd about the memory but you couldn’t quite place it and it was driving you fucking crazy. You look at the two boys as they bicker about something on their computers, your hand slipping off the handle of the steamer and your arm touching the hot metal causing you to jerk your hand away with a hiss. 

“Shit--” you whisper, glancing down at your fingers and inspecting it before looking around to see Changbin watching you with a raised brow and you give him a small thumbs up, “I’m alright, no worries.”

“And mentally?” Changbin says, drying off a white mug with a towel. “Your head has been literally anywhere but the cafe today.”

You shrug at him, dumping the over-steamed milk from the mug and pouring a fresh bit to re-steam, “My head is perfectly attuned to my work, Bin.”

“Sure, because you haven’t been staring at that guy for your whole shift,” Changbin says with an eyeroll before reaching for the mug in your hands and putting it aside to have your full attention, “Did he upset you? I can make him leave if--”

“No! God no, Bin,” You say quickly, carding your hands through your hair, “It was nothing, I just thought I knew him from somewhere.”

Changbin freezes as he stares you down, just blinking at you. It was as if he wasn’t sure how to react, “what do you mean by that?”

You make a face at Changbin and laugh a little, “It’s nothing serious, I just thought I had met him before but it was just a misunderstanding.”

Lie. You shift your weight and cross your arms over your chest. You watch Changbin turn over his shoulder and glare at Chris before looking back at you, squinting as he looks you up and down.

“And?”

“What do you mean?” You say quickly, scrunching your nose at him.

“Y/N, i know you better than you know how to make a decent cup of coffee. What else happened that you didn’t tell him?” Changbin pressed, nodding his head to where Chris and Han were seated. Unfortunately, having a best friend like him means he knows what’s going on in your head.

You huff and your arms fell from your chest, “I found this on my doormat this morning, and when I unfolded it I saw his name and order. The same one he placed today, so I asked him about it and--” you pause. 

“Is he stalking you?” Changbin said quickly, unfolding the receipt and reading it for himself, “I can report him if he’s stalking you--”

“No--God, hover parent much?” You huff, pushing him gently, “Anyway, when I sat down with him we started talking and I flicked the football at him and I like-- I swear I remember playing that with him. I remember talking with him, but I swear I have never seen him before.” 

Changbin stares at you over the paper in his hands, his mouth opens as if he was going to say something then he turns around to look at Chris. You take the receipt back out of his hands and fold it back up, and Changbin looks down at his empty hands before facing you again.

“Do you remember him?” He breathes.

“Yes and no?” You say with a half shrug while your face scrunches, “I thought maybe we had met before, but I think it’s just deja vu,” You say, returning to your cleaning tasks as your shift comes to an end.

Changbin smiles softly, and tosses the white towel he was holding over his shoulder, “Deja vu sounds about right,” he says, watching you continue your work.

You let out a sigh. Something about this isnt sitting right. Reaching behind your back, your fingers untangle the bow to your apron and slip it off over your head. There was something about looking at Chris that made you feel like you were closer than strangers, like he had some way of invading your memory without you even noticing. You punch out from your shift and reapproach Chris and Han as they chatter about some project they were working on.

“Dude, this song is all we have-- we have to turn it in. JYP isn’t going to be happy going yet another week without a new song,” Han huffs, leaning his chair onto the back two legs.

“Look, I know but if she’s starting to remember then putting this song out is a risk. I don't think it’s a good--” Chris stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees you approaching them and greets you with that same warm smile, “Hey again.”

“Uh, hey--” You start, awkwardly reaching into your back pocket and taking out the paper football in his hands and holding it out to him, “I just forgot to give you this.”

Chris takes it from your hands and flips it before placing it on the table, “Oh yeah, thank you.”

Before you could walk away, Han speaks up while gently resting his hand on the table as he leans towards you, “Hey, can we get your input on something?”

The sudden question catches you off guard, but if it was an excuse to talk to Chris and figure out what that memory was about then you weren’t going to deny it. You give a quick nod and take a seat next to Han.

“So we make music, and having an outsider’s perspective on our project helps a lot,” Han starts, pointing at his computer, “We’re turning this one in tomorrow and I feel like there’s something missing from it, would you give it a listen for me?” 

Han was already handing you his headphones before you could object, the bulky black over ear headphones rested on top of your head comfortably. They matched the ones Chris was wearing and you could see a bit of a flush form on Chris’s face as he looked at his computer screen intensely, as to not make eye contact with you. 

The music started, a gentle piano echoing slightly between your ears before you hear a voice come in, it’s mid pitched and soothing. Han watches you expectantly and Chris avoids eye contact with you as he types away.

The voice is incredible, and without even knowing it you were smiling as you listened to it. You silently point at Han, asking if it was him singing and you watched him shake his head no before pointing across the table at Chris; who looked mortified that you were listening to him sing.

You reach across and waved a hand near his computer screen to get his attention and when he finally looks up, you give him a smile and a thumbs up. His voice was the kind you hear and suddenly the world stopped spinning, giving you the entire moment to just take it in and enjoy hearing it to the fullest extent.

The music cuts out, and you slip off Han’s headphones and pass them to him gently before looking at Chris, “I… wow. That was actually amazing, Chris.”

“Thanks… Kinda embarrassing to have someone listen to your music right in front of you though you know?” CHris laughs gently, his eyes locking with Han’s as if he was warning him.

Han rolls his eyes before facing you, “I’m gonna be real, we need someone to duet with Chris in it.”

You raise your brows at the comment, shifting your eyes between the two boys, “I think that’s a great idea. It would balance out kind of like a story.”

Han looks pointedly as Chris while gesturing to you dramatically, “See!? I told you she’d do it.”

“Woah-- Hold on,” You say quickly, a tinge of uncertainty in your voice, "I'm not really used to singing for people, let alone two guys I don't really know. It's a bit out of my comfort zone."

There was literally no way in hell you were going to sing on a song for two--well… one guy you don't know and another you have hardly any memory of. The only singing you’d ever done was for yourself. You glance at Chris, seeking some reassurance. He gives you a wince of hope, trying to encourage you, but the reluctance still lingers. The thought of putting yourself out there feels intimidating.

"Come on, Y/N. It's just a small gig," Han insists, his eyes reflecting a genuine belief in your abilities. “You were singing just a little bit ago, I think you would be perfect for it.”

Despite his reassurances, a knot of reluctance tightens in your stomach. The fact you were even talking with two random people feels like a leap into the unknown, let alone in considering singing for them. 

Chris passes you a notebook, “Here, these are the lyrics.”

You glance at the lyrics, imagining the notes resonating in the studio, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension tugs at your heart. The lyrics were close to home, and your eyes flicker at Chris. He had to’ve met me before and I just don't remember it.

After a moment of contemplation, you take a deep breath and meet their gaze. "Okay, let's do it. I'll give it a try."

A genuine excitement lights up Han's face, and Chris lets out a breath he was holding. You card your fingers through your hair and laugh embarrassingly before Han quickly packs up and drags you out of the cafe with Chris in tow.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 

You stand still in a closed off room with a large window on the wall that allows you to see Han seated at the soundboard, “So… this is how you record then?”

Chris nods his head softly as he adjusts the microphone to match your height, “Yeah, this is the part of the studio that keeps all the outside noise at bay so we only pick up the audio we want.” Chris explains, tightening the knob to keep the microphone in place now that it was right where it should be. 

You watched as Chris leaned over to the stand behind you, and you felt your chest tighten at the proximity to him. The warmth of his skin radiating enough for you to feel it before he stand up and gently places the headset over your ears. He leans back to look at your face, eyes flickering between your own, “comfortable?”

You nod, “y-yeah, they’re good,” you say, reaching up to touch the headphones on your head and giving Chris a smile as you shift your weight and he leaves you alone in the room. He takes a seat by Han and you watch as they speak a little bit in silence. Chris looks anxious, Han rolls his eyes at him and says something exasperated before turning to face the window and pressing a button.

“Can you hear us okay?” his voice booms into your headphones, and you give them a thumbs up. 

“This feels insane,” You say with a small laugh, “Are you sure you don't want someone who is known for singing to do this?”

Chris shakes his head before finally looking at you, “Nah, you’ll do great, Y/N.” His signature smile was showing through with his words, and it made you feel at ease even when doing something as crazy as this. “You’ll have my track playing in the background so you can hear how the song is sung. We can re-take things so don’t stress if you mess up, yeah?”

You give him a thumbs up before you see Han put up his hand, counting down from five as you hear the music start playing in your ears. The delicate piano chords echo in your head again and you take a deep breath as Han finally reaches zero.

“You say down right at the corner of my table, and I don't know what it is but I swear I’m feeling deja vu.”

Your eyes closed and the lyrics moved past your lips almost effortlessly, you could hear yourself in the speakers of the headphones. When you open your eyes, Chris’s own meet yours as if he’d never looked away from you. As the music swells you watch him slowly spin the paper football in his fingers and your mind is flooded with the same memory from earlier.

You flick the folded paper and send it flying, over-shooting the goal and Chris letting out a small chuckle as he picks up the paper, “So do I get to know my opponent’s name anytime soon?” He says as he flicks it towards you, his eyes flicking up at you from your hands as you pick up the little paper.

“Y/N,” You say as you sink down into your chair to line up your shot, your tongue sticking out as you focus and send it flying through his hands. You glance up at him as he picks up the paper, “So are you like-- a part of a famous paper football league that I’ve not heard of?”

In a split second you find yourself transported to a different moment – the first time you met Chris. The memory floods your senses: the laughter, the shared conversation, and the spark of connection that had lingered in the air. It's as if a hidden door in your mind has swung open, revealing a scene that was once obscured.

“Swear I feel you in my memory, I think I’ve seen you in my dreams. Maybe you and I have history but I don’t think you know me--”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you stop singing, the weight of this recollection settles over you. The realization is overwhelming, like a sudden rush of emotions that you weren't prepared for. Faces in the cafe become blurred, replaced by the vivid image of Chris, his smile etched into the canvas of your memory.

 “If there was a league, I’d be famous by now and you would have had to ask me for my name at the register,” he says with a playful head nod as he continues to flick the paper back and forth between the two of you, “But unfortunately there’s not, so I make music.”

"You make music?" you ask with a teasing glint in your eyes, "I thought you were auditioning for NSYNC with that outfit."

He looks down at himself, an amused expression playing on his face. "What's wrong with my outfit? I thought it was a fashion statement."

You lean in, pretending to inspect his ensemble with exaggerated seriousness, "Well, if the statement is 'I'm bringing back the '90s,' then mission accomplished,” you bring your hands up to make air quotes with your fingers when you say that.

Oh my god the bucket hat. You remember him wearing stupid bucket hat. A mixture of confusion and awe lingers in your eyes as you stare at Chris and you find yourself grappling with the significance of this sudden memory recall. The once-disconnected pieces of your encounters with Chris start to form a more coherent picture, leaving you in a state of introspection.

“Have we met before? Maybe in another life I knew you, maybe if I try I’ll see right through you and I’ll remember who we were.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, you find yourself only listening to Chris’s singing in your ears as you collect your thoughts. The weight of the forgotten memory mingles with the joy of rediscovery. It's a bittersweet realization – a fragment of your past brought back to life in the present.

You remember Chris's visits, his patient smile each day, a consistent presence for you. Every day, he came back. The thought resonates within you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. The realization is both heartwarming and heartbreaking – a testament to the resilience of a connection that transcends the limitations of memory.

You recall the moments when Chris would visit, sharing stories and laughter as if each encounter were a brand-new beginning. The frequency of his visits, the sincerity in his eyes – it all makes sense now. The times you were less than kind to him, and the one time Changbin kicked him out of the cafe all because you didn’t remember him. He didn't let the forgetfulness deter him; instead, he embraced each meeting with unwavering dedication.

Emotions surge within you like a tidal wave, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Clarity, like a long-lost friend, has found its way back to you. Studio and music in your ears cuts out as you navigate the flood of memories that has rushed back to you. Chris, gaze never wavering from you as he watches the changes in your face, reaches forward and presses a button to allow his voice to reach you.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

As you stand before him, tears well up in your eyes, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself and you shake your head to dismiss his concerns. 

“You know that bucket hat looked awful on you.”

Chris’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, staring at you as if you were crazy. Then his eyes slowly soften, then widen, and you watch his lips part as he smiles, the same one that had melted you the first day you’d met.

“Oh my god--” His voice cuts out as you watch him quickly stand up and enter the recording room.

"Chris," you begin, your voice quivering with the weight of the revelation. "I remember. I remember everything." His eyes widen, and a spectrum of emotions dances across his face – surprise, hope, and a touch of disbelief. He opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can find the words.

"I remember you coming in that day, your smile, the way you patiently shared stories, how I had you kicked out," you confess, tears streaming down your cheeks. The weight of the unsaid becomes a palpable presence in the studio, “I remember you showing me Han’s song, I remember you walking me home, I remember-- God, I remember everything.”

Chris, struck by the depth of your revelation, leans forward, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "You... remember?"

You nod, a mixture of joy and sorrow in your eyes, "Yes, Chris. And I remember the first day we met, how you made me laugh with that paper football game. And I remember the way you smiled at me when I said the 90s was an awful time for fashion and how I fell for you in that moment."

As Chris takes in your revelation, a mixture of disbelief and joy dances in his eyes. He gazes at you, absorbing the weight of your words, and then a tender smile graces his face. With a sincerity that pierces through the air, he begins to share his side of the story.

"Y/N," he starts, his voice tinged with emotion. "Every day, I walked into that cafe, hoping that it would be the day you remembered. Even when you didn't, it was worth it. Your smile, your laughter – they became the highlights of my day."

He takes a deep breath, as if collecting the scattered fragments of his emotions. "I fell for you so hard, right from the start. Your kindness, your laugh, the way you were so warm and inviting to everyone – it was impossible not to fall in love with you."

"I love how you find joy in the little things, how you light up when you talk about your favorite songs, and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. It's like every moment with you is a melody, and I can't get enough of it," Chris continues, his gaze locked onto yours.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you listen to him pour his heart out, the weight of his love both comforting and overwhelming. Chris's vulnerability becomes a bridge that connects every memory you have of him, and he pulls you into his arms tightly.

"I love you for who you are, Y/N, and every version of you, even the one who couldn't remember,” He breathed into your hair, eyes screwed shut as he held you close to him.

“Don’t let me forget you again, okay?”

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The blaring alarm pierced through the veil of your dreams, a relentless assault on the peace that only moments ago had surrounded you. Groggily, you fumbled on the nightstand for the offending device, your hand clumsily slapping at the snooze button in a desperate attempt to silence the intrusion before your hand slips and it falls off your night stand, alarm still blaring.

“God damn it…” You curse under your breath as a resentful sigh leaves your lips. Reluctantly, you threw off the warmth of the covers and reached for your phone, the bright screen reading 4:30AM. Your body was protesting the untimely disturbance as the coldness in the air replaced the coziness of your bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow through the curtains, felt like a sanctuary you were being forcibly expelled from. The cool floor beneath your feet served as a stark reminder that the inviting embrace of your bed was now just a fading memory.

As you stood there, the harsh reality of the impending workday began to settle in. The day ahead loomed like an insurmountable mountain, and as much as you didn’t want to go make coffee for stuck up business men and housewives with too much time on their hands, you promised to open the shop this morning and you were absolutely kicking yourself for it. 

Dragging yourself toward the bathroom, you squinted against the bright light, your reflection in the mirror a testament to the reluctant and incredibly rude awakening. With each passing minute, the realization that the sanctuary of sleep was slipping away. The only thing keeping you moving was knowing you got to have a free cup of coffee as soon as you got there.

The clock ticks, the seconds slipping away, and with each passing moment, the inevitable draws nearer. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating the merits of calling in sick, but reality nudges you with a firm reminder of bills and responsibilities. With a heavy sigh, you brush your teeth and hair as you attempt to blink away the grogginess in your eyes. The morning routine is a series of half-hearted motions. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror wears the exhaustion of someone who'd rather be doing anything but going to work.

The uniform feels like a straitjacket, but you squeeze into it, donning the required apron with a resignation that accompanies the mundane. As you lace up your shoes, you can almost hear the distant and antagonistic laughter of those still wrapped in the warm embrace of their dreams.

The walk to work is a slow march, the chilly air of Seoul biting at your skin. The vibrant sunrise paints the sky, a cruel juxtaposition to your muted mood. The comforting scent of freshly ground coffee wafts from the shop, a mixed blessing as it both heralds the start of another day and wraps you in the familiar embrace of your workplace as you tuck yourself behind the counter swiftly.

The clock on the wall seems to mock you, displaying a time that's far later than you intended to arrive. With an apologetic smile, you make your way to the locker and quickly toss an apron over your head, hoping to go unnoticed.

However, your hopes are dashed as you hear a playful voice from across the room. "Well, well, if it isn't our resident time traveler. Did you bring back any cool gadgets from the future, Y/N?" your boss Changbin teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You chuckle nervously, appreciating the light-hearted tone. "Just a tardiness superpower, I guess. I thought I'd share it with the team today," you reply, feigning innocence.

Changbin leans against your desk, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, the infamous tardiness superpower. I've heard it's all the rage in the superhero world. Fashionably late, right?"

You nod, playing along. "Exactly! It's the new trend. Fashionably late is the new on-time."

Changbin laughs, shaking his head. "Well, as long as you don't start wearing a cape to work, I think we can forgive a little tardiness now and then. Just don't make it a habit, superhero."

Customers trickle in, their orders becoming a monotonous hum. With each espresso shot pulled, you feel a little more awake, a little more alive. The routine becomes a rhythm, a dance with the coffee machines. And as you hand over that first latte of the day, you realize that despite the initial reluctance for starting the day, there's a certain satisfaction in being part of the daily grind. And to which, you let out a small laugh at your own pun and shake your head before glancing back up to be met with the next customer.

When you looked up, you were greeted with chocolatey brown eyes that crinkled a little as he smiled at you. It was a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and it was a smile that definitely melted yours. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Hey, Chris.”

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Author's note: I am... to happy with how this turned out. Let me know if there's any mistakes I missed, it is very late for me as I'm getting this posted and I half-proof read it! Please enjoy the last part, and tell me all about your favorite parts of the series<3 I'll be back soon with a new series as soon as I can lovelies ^.^ Again, this is for my best friend Baylee. I love you more than you love Chan. Seriously.

Love, Bunn XOX

#bang chan fic #bang chan fluff #bang chan fluff fic #bang chan slow burn fic #bang chan slow burn #bahng chan #christopher bang chan #skz fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fic #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids fluff fic #stray kids x reader #skz fluff fic #skz x reader

[bangtanloverboys]

life support // knj

summary - namjoon likes to think he’s the embodiment of the perfect example of a theurgists: positive and enthusiastic. however when his professor asks him to help tutor one of her secondary students, only then is that pushed to the limit

pairing - tutor!namjoon x neurodivergent!reader

genre - fluff; wizard 101 au

word count - 4.0k

warnings - dip’s made up lore, namjoon says one mean thing, thoughts of fraternization 

guide - theurgy = life magic, divination = storm magic; marlybonian = british dog people; pigswick = another wizarding academy; 

author’s note - last names for reasons. and this was a bit personal for me as i do have adhd and i struggled a lot with theoretical teachings. this is based off my own personal experience with school and having adhd, not everyone’s is the same

the seven schools of ravenwood

Best in class. That is how Namjoon has always been described ever since he was a novice theurgist. It came easy to him, with a glance at a textbook he could perform the spell in an instant. Life magic was simply in his blood. So when Professor Wu asked him to tutor some of her less than stellar students, he wasn’t surprised. It took a while for each of the other students to catch on, but one by one, he helped them understand the material and soon enough, they raised their grades. Namjoon’s track record was stunning, there wasn’t any student he couldn’t help.

That was until he met you.

Normally Professor Wu only offered tutoring for her novice primary school students; young theurgists that either did not grow up where magic was practiced or simply fell behind a few lessons and needed a bit of help to get back on their feet. Never before had he had to tutor a secondary school theurgist. But he was willing to step up to the challenge. 

Pushing open the heavy oak doors of the Life School, he was greeted with the familiar sight of Professor Wu standing at the top of the platform. Standing right at the bottom of the stairs before her, was you, dressed in purple and gold. A diviner, Namjoon thought to himself. Life magic sat in between Storm and Fire, so one normally would expect a student of those primary schools would easily understand and excel at theurgy. He wondered what could be the problem. 

“Ah, Namjoon!” She smiled as he approached you both. “Y/N, this will be your tutor; Namjoon Jadeshield. Namjoon, this is Y/N Raindreamer,” she introduced.

“Pleasure,” he greeted, holding out his hand for you to shake. You don’t shake his hand, only giving him a tight lipped smile. “Okay. . .” he dropped his hand. “What exactly are you struggling with so that I can help?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Professor Wu cut you off. “Everything, really. They’re supposed to start their initiate program, but unfortunately they must repeat their apprenticeship.”

Namjoon tried to hold back his shock. Failing the apprenticeship class?  You’d have to repeat the whole two year process, probably never catch back up to your primary school level. “Okay. So how often shall we hold tutoring sessions?” He glanced between you and Professor Wu.

“Ideally every day after class,” the professor answered.

Your head snapped in the direction of her. “No!” Turning to Namjoon, you began to plead with him. “Monday, Tuesday, Thursday. I need Wednesday and Friday free. I have-“

“You know very well that any or all after school activities are suspended until your grades rise, Raindreamer,” Professor Wu tisked.

But you didn’t acknowledge her, only keeping your eyes trained on Namjoon. “I’m sorry, but Professor Wu is right. Until you have sufficient grades to prove it, no after school activities.”

As the words left his mouth, Namjoon watched in slow motion as your face fell. Like the world had crashed around you. Quickly, your face steeled and a frown was etched onto your features. “Fine.”

“Alright,” Namjoon nodded, wanting this meeting to be over and done with. “We’ll start tomorrow. Meet me outside the Commons Library? Sound good with you?”

“Yeah, fine. Whatever,” you huffed as you shouldered your book bag and left the school building, leaving Namjoon and Professor Wu alone. 

“I swear, with a name like Raindreamer, it’s no wonder they have grades like this,” she sighed. “But thank you again, Namjoon. I know you’ll be a great help.”

“I’ll do my best.” 

The following day, Namjoon waited for you just outside the Commons Library. He was there a full 10 minutes before you finally arrived. He opened his mouth to berate you for being late but words failed to come out at the sight of you; fresh scrapes and bandages covering any exposed skin. 

“What?” You raised a brow at him.

“Are you- what happened?”

You looked down at the bandages before shrugging. “Fell.”

Whilst that didn’t feel like the full reason, Namjoon didn’t push any further, simply wanting to get the tutoring session along. You trailed behind him as he climbed up the final steps to the library, pushing open the doors. Namjoon waved hello to Harold, the old Marleybonian that served as the librarian, as he scribbled away in his ledger. 

“This way,” Namjoon said to you as he walked down the theurgy wing. Other life students, dressed in robes of greens and browns, were seated at the tables that were strategically placed alongside the tall bookshelves. He made his way over to his usual table, it sat right between the initiate and journeyman textbooks. Granted those might be a bit out of your range, but perhaps it could serve as a bit of motivation to help you move forward. 

Placing his book bag down, he looked at you, straggling along still. A bit further than he would’ve liked, but you were soon catching up. Your eyes were trained on the books as they flew across the shelves, rearranging and reorganizing themselves. There was a small smile etched into your face as you watched the books and scrolls float about, reminding Namjoon of a child on Christmas. Clearing his throat to gain your attention, he watched as that smile faded away, back into a look of displeasure. You picked up the pace, taking the seat beside him.

“Professor Wu didn’t give me any specifics as to what you need help with. So are there any particular parts that you need help with?” Namjoon asked as you pulled out your scrolls and text books. 

“Everything, I guess. It just. . . doesn’t make sense. I can’t figure out how to get from Point A to Point B,” you explained. 

“So conceptualizing it?”

You blinked at him. “I- uh, I guess that is one way to put it.”

“Okay, that gives us a starting point then.” He smiled at you. “So let’s go to basics. See if that can help.” 

“Alright,” you muttered, learning forward as he began writing.

“So theurgy is a bit different than the other schools, when using magic we don’t summon or coerce the creatures into appearing. We breathe life into them through the Song of Creation. Are you familiar with that?” When he turned to look at you, you were staring blankly at the paper. He waited a few moments for you to respond, but you didn’t. Namjoon snapped his fingers twice, you jerked back to attention.

“Sorry, I- uh. . . what did you say?”

It was then when Namjoon realized how you were able to fail your apprenticeship so miserably and how you earned your last name. 

You could not focus at all.

Every time Namjoon was going over spell casting and or creation, he would turn to you to check to see if you were following, only for you to have a blank look on your face or your eyes to be trained on the floating books again. Every time he would have to snap his fingers to regain your attention. On some occasions, he saw you scribbling away into a notebook. At first he thought you were actually taking notes, but anytime he tried to take a look at it, you shut the book in his face.

By the end of the second hour, when your session was coming to a close, you had finally managed to understand one spell. It was just a shield spell, so it wasn’t too complicated, but not enough for Namjoon to be satisfied with your progress. 

As the two of you left the library, you were about to make a break for the right, no doubt returning to your dorm room in Ravenwood, but he quickly grabbed onto your wrist. 

“What?”

“I want you to read over the History of Life Magic, chapters one through four. Just the basics, that should help at least a tiny bit.”

“You’re giving me homework?” 

He blinked at you, caught off guard by the question. He’s always asked the students he tutored to reread certain materials, and they did so without question. “It’s not really homework, just helps to go over the material again,” he sputtered out in response. “I want to see you succeed and catch up in your secondary school. And reading helps.”

“Yeah, sure,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes, then walked down the pathway through the Commons.

Over the next two weeks, the two of you had fallen into a routine; every few days you’d be late by no more than 10 minutes to each session (how he had no idea, considering the initiate divination class would get out around your scheduled time) with fresh bandages, he’d try his damndest to help you understand the material, and then you’d part ways, heading off towards the right. And it was agonizing for Namjoon. You read at a snail's pace, mixing up the pixie and fairy spells, scrambling words and wand motions together. It wasn’t by lack of effort either, Namjoon could see you were trying, genuinely, but no matter how much reading he assigned you, nothing seemed to stick. You got one spell for every ten he went over with you. He simply could not believe how you managed to even get enrolled into Ravenwood in the first place.

When he expressed his frustrations towards Professor Wu when it was time for a follow up, she finally told him that you were a new student, only coming in within the past 6 months, after being kicked out of Pigswick for poor performance. He was shocked at the information, but it made sense. You were a troubled student and needed a firm hand. So he went to work, putting together another lesson plan that was more strict to try and see if that would help you at all.

It didn’t.

Barely a full session in, he watched as you failed to recite the proper incantations to summon a leprechaun, something you nearly had the day previous. 

“What isn’t clicking for you?” He found himself asking you at the end of the session.

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean, why can’t you do this? This is basic theurgy, and you’re a storm student! This should come easy to you, right? So why are you struggling so much?” He felt like he was at the end of his rope. If he couldn’t teach you, then what hopes could he ever have about being a professor?

“I mean, it just. . . doesn’t. It’s hard to explain. . .”

“Well if you don’t figure it out, you’re gonna get kicked out from another school,” Namjoon muttered under his breath.

“What?”

He froze. He cringed to himself as he turned around to look at you, regretting even thinking the words. Once he laid eyes on you, he saw that same broken look he saw when Professor Wu said you couldn’t continue with your afterschool activities, only worse. Your shoulders sagged, and Namjoon swore he could’ve heard your heart break, shattered by him. Then your face hardened as you tightened your grip on your bookbag.

“Then I guess there’s no reason for us to really continue these sessions, considering I’m just gonna get kicked out anyways.” Then you turned on your heel and stormed off.

“Y/N, wait- I’m sorry!”

He wanted to follow after you, but he couldn’t find it in him to. He watched as you disappeared into the crowded Commons area, wishing he never even opened his mouth. 

The following day after class, Namjoon made his way over towards the Storm School. You deserved an apology, Namjoon knew that. What he said was mean, and something he never should’ve said as your tutor. It was just his luck that his mastery class ended at the same time the Storm initiate class ended, giving him the perfect opportunity to find you and apologize. He eyed through the students as they made their way past him, on their own way towards their next class or any after school club. But he could not find out. He knew he had the right year, you were supposed to go into the initiate class this year, you were the proper age for it. Where were you?

Perhaps you stayed inside to talk to the professor, he thought to himself as he approached the heavy oak doors. Thunder boomed overhead from the gathering storm cloud that resided inside the classroom. It had been years since he’d ever stepped foot in the school of storm, the first and only time being from when he was trying to find a secondary school, all those years before he finally landed on balance. 

Namjoon glanced around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of you but you weren’t in the room. Only Professor Balestrom resided in the classroom, standing on top of his desk as he gathered papers.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the school, clearing his throat to gain the frog professor’s attention. He turned on his flipper as the sound of Namjoon and bounced up to his full height of three feet. 

“Ah! How can I be of service to you?”

“Hi, I’m tutoring one of your students. Y/N Raindreamer? They would be in your initiate class.”

A frown etched itself onto Professor Balestrom’s face. “Raindreamer is my student yes, but they’re not in my initiate class.”

“What?” 

“Raindreamer advanced into the adept class about 3 months ago! They’re a brilliant student, one of the best diviners I’ve seen in a while,” he explained.

The information shook Namjoon to his core. You were an advanced student? But how could that be, considering your grades in theurgy? It didn’t make any sense. “I-I didn’t know that.”

“First time in my class, they struggled though. Came in on a reading day, which is everyone’s least favorite part of the curriculum. But as soon as we got to spell casting, they nearly blew the roof off this place!” The professor continued, leaping up in the air for dramatic effect. “They weren’t even here a week before I took them to the headmaster and demanded they advance to the journeyman course, only that was also too easy! They’re getting a real challenge in adept, I’ll tell you that.”

Namjoon couldn’t believe his ears. Here he was, thinking you were a walking failure, doomed to be kicked out of a second school. Only to learn that you were nearly two years advanced in your studies! “Oh. . . well, do you know where they might be? I do need to talk to them.”

Professor Balestrom looked at the clock on the wall. “Should be in the arena by now.”

“The arena?”

“Yes. The arena! They’re a duelist, did you not know that?”

Only then did it dawn on him that he never did ask what you wanted to do so badly that you wanted to schedule your tutoring sessions around it. Then he remembered what days you were late on, the fresh bandages you always had on. . . You were still dueling. Under the school’s nose too.

“Thank you, Professor Balestrom. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course!” The frog man called out to Namjoon as he all but ran out the door. As fast as he could, he made his way through the tunnels to the Commons and then to Unicorn Way. He pushed open the doors of the arena, the snapping of puppets and growls of different summoned monsters filled his ears as he approached Diego, the dueling master.

“A newcomer? Are you interested in learning the art of the duel?” The unicorn asked, raising a brow at him.

Namjoon shook his head no. “Sorry, I’m actually looking for someone. Y/N Raindreamer?”

“Ah, yes! They’ve been short on their dueling practice lately, but they’re in the next dueling chamber over. Come, I shall show you.” Diego led Namjoon down a hall towards an empty arena, where sure enough you were, dueling against a puppet. 

He was blown away with the sight before him. You waved your wand with practiced ease and the creatures you summoned did your bidding with little to no struggle at all. It wasn’t at all how you were when he was tutoring you. How could you manage to do so good in one class that you advance two classes, but struggle to advance in your secondary?

“Pretty good, eh? Came in from Pigswick, good school and all but they don’t actually teach magic there. It’s all theoretical. But as soon as Raindreamer was enrolled here, and with a little help from your’s truly, they advanced in no time!” Diego explained as he and Namjoon watched you battle the puppet. “They come in here as often as they can, practicing all the spells they learn in class. See the scrolls?” He pointed off to the side of the dueling sigil where sure enough, were piles of spell books and scrolls, mainly of storm magic, judging from the purple lining. But Namjoon could see some greens in there. 

You weren’t just practicing.

You were studying.

Raising your wand again, this time the life symbol appeared. Up until the last wave of your wand, it was perfect. You had twisted your wrist in the wrong direction, causing the spell to fizzle completely. You let out a curse as you stepped away from the sigil, the puppet standing still. You pulled open the life scroll, reading over it again, no doubt trying to find your mistake.

“You’re supposed to twist your wrist towards the right, not the left!” Namjoon called out to you. Your head snapped up in his direction, mouth open to probably yell at him. But you didn’t say anything, your eyes focusing on Diego behind him. 

“He’s right, you were perfect up until that last move,” Diego confirmed as he trotted down the stairs towards you, Namjoon following after. “He was looking for you, I hope you do not mind I brought him here.”

“It’s alright, thank you, Diego.” You gave the unicorn a slight smile, who nodded before stepping away, giving the two of you some privacy. Once your attention was fully towards Namjoon, your lips pressed into a thin line. “What is it, Namjoon?”

“I wanted to apologize, what I said was out of line. As your tutor, it should’ve been my priority to build you up, not to tear you down.”

You regarded him cautiously. “Doesn’t change the fact that what you said really hurt. I did try, but studying like that just. . . it doesn’t work for me. Sitting there and telling me how to cast spells, I have to see and do it to fully understand. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I can see that now.” Namjoon stepped toward the pile of scrolls and books that you had at the side of the arena. Picking up the one that was open, he flipped through it. There were a bunch of notes and scribbles in the margins, he recognized the chicken scratch as yours but what you wrote were what he would go over and teach you in your tutoring sessions. “This is why you wanted those days off, so you could practice your spellwork and could try to actually grasp what you were learning?”

Slowly, you nodded. “I will admit, I did continue dueling, but without the proper amount of dedication to practice and study, it just. . . I couldn’t do it.”

“Then we’ll hold our tutoring sessions here.”

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“If this is what helps you learn, then this is what we’ll do to help you,” Namjoon started, “I’ll tell Professor Wu about the change and reserve an arena with Diego. We can meet here instead of the library, does that sound good to you?”

“I- yeah! That’s- that’s perfect, thank you!” You said, beaming widely at him. It was the first time you actually smiled at him, and he was going to deny the little flutter he felt in his chest. 

“Okay, so I’ll see you here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow!”

Just as he said, Namjoon talked with Moolinda about having you study via dueling.

“I don’t know, Jadeshield. . . they’re failing, and the rules are no extracurriculars unless a student is of a passing grade.”

“I know, but this is how they learn! I didn’t understand it at first, and that’s my fault. But they’re actually really smart! Did you know they’re two classes advanced in divination?” Namjoon countered. 

Professor Wu was taken back by that knowledge, judging by the way her eyes narrowed down and focused on him. 

“Please, just give them a chance.”

She was quiet, before placing her hooves together and nodding. “Very well. You may hold your tutoring lessons in the arena.”

Namjoon was so ecstatic, he would have jumped for joy. But there was one more thing that he had to ask. . .

 Due to his meeting with the professor, Namjoon was running late to meet you at the Arena. He saw you were sitting on the grass outside the building, looking down at that book you would scribble in during your tutoring sessions, flipping through the pages. 

“Hey!” He caught your attention as he approached you. “I have great news!”

Looking up from your book, you furrowed your brows together. “What?”

“I talked to Professor Wu and she gave the green light for us to do dueling tutoring sessions and she agreed!”

You jumped to your feet. “Really?!”

“Yes, and she agreed to something even better.” 

“Spit it out then! Don’t leave me here in all this suspense!”

“If you test well enough on the next exam that’s in a few weeks, you can join the initiate program!” It took a lot of convincing on his part, and staking his whole career as a tutor on the line, but he was wrong to ever doubt you in the first place. He knew you could do it.

“You-oh my stars! Thank you!” Dropping your book, you threw yourself onto Namjoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly.

He stilled at the sudden contact, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. “You’re- you’re welcome,” he said, patting your back gently. He’d never been thanked in such a way before, usually a quick handshake or a smile. Never a hug. 

As quick as you hugged him, you released your hold on him, smiling brightly at him. “Come on! Exam may be a few weeks away, but I wanna be sure I have everything right so I can ace this test!” You said, before racing inside the arena. 

Namjoon stood back for a second, still feeling the heat on his cheeks. He took a step forward to join you, only to accidentally step on your book that you’d dropped. Kneeling down, he picked it up. Curiosity gaining the best of him, he took a peek inside. It was doodles and drawings of different creatures and spells, with little notes dotted along the sides. Still flipping through the book, he began walking towards the arena, but he stopped as he turned to a page that took him by surprise. It was a drawing of him, incompleted, but was very obviously Namjoon. He felt the heat on his face return, crawling up his ears too. Reading along the sides of the page, were your own personal anecdotes about him. Calling him all sorts of names, but also things he had said; Stuff from his lessons. You had remembered, you were trying. He just couldn’t see it.

“Ahem.” 

Namjoon’s eyes broke away from the sketchbook, meeting Diego’s gaze. The unicorn said nothing, only winking at him as he tossed his head in the direction of the arena doors. 

Breaking eye contact, Namjoon pushed open the doors, hoping you wouldn’t see the embarrassment on his cheeks. He spotted you almost immediately, talking with some other students he could only presume were your friends. Taking notice of him, you smiled at him again, and he swore he could see a twinkle in your eye-

No. No. No.

You had an exam to study for and he was your tutor. He couldn’t fraternize with you like that. However, he wouldn’t be for long if you ace that exam. . . 

“Raindreamer, let’s go!” 

#btsghostie #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon x gender neutral reader #kim namjoon x gender neutral reader #bts x gender neutral reader #bts wizard au #wizard101 au #neurodivergent reader #namjoon x adhd reader #wizard namjoon

[sortofanobsession]

One More Diaz (911 Buddie A/B/Ω AU WIP) Part 1

Author's Note: This WIP I started in January has grown into a monster! I had to break it up for editing purposes and posting. So this is part 1. Part 2 has a bit of work still that needs to be done, but I promised to get more of it posted and it has both preview parts in it, so I just decided to post it as a large chunk.

Tag Requests and Prompts are open.

Content warning: Male Alpha/ Male Omega pairing, mpreg, angst, vomiting, morning sickness.

Alpha Buck/Omega Eddie

Word Count: 4k+ (would be longer but posts have character limits I never realized)

Part 2

Eddie is panicking. His life was just getting back on track. He was finally back in a good place. He had his job. His relationship with his parents was okay. Christopher was thriving. And after nearly having to sit there and do nothing after Buck was struck by lightning. Eddie had finally made a move on the alpha. They had been together ever since. 

The emotional aftermath of that had led to a mind-blowing three day heat for the omega. Eddie had thought they had taken the necessary precautions. But precautions sometimes fail. They failed spectacularly based on the three tests that sat on the bathroom counter. Eddie had been feeling increasingly run down and nauseous. He had hoped it was something he'd caught on a call or maybe at Christopher’s school. But nope. The only thing he caught was himself on his alpha dick while heat sick and cock stupid. And damn was he stupid. He and Buck hadn't been together all that long. They had barely discussed how to handle work and a relationship. And Christopher. What would Christopher think? Eddie shook his head and shoved all the tests to the back of a drawer. He couldn't lose it now. He didn't have time to cry. He had a shift to get ready for. 

The omega gets butterflies as he walks into the firehouse and is met with the gorgeous blue eyes and thousand watt smile of his alpha. The father of his unborn pup. And that thought has Eddie's stomach twist and bile rising in his throat. He fights it back but it must show on his face because Buck’s smile is gone. The worried alpha now headed towards the locker room, knowing that was Eddie's first stop. 

The omega tries to focus on changing into his uniform as he opens his locker. He was begging his body not to betray him. Just give him a day or two so he can figure out how to tell Buck. They weren't even bonded. Did Buck even want a-

“Hey,” Buck's voice cuts through the omega's uneasy thoughts and grounds him. The alpha always had that effect on him. Everything seemed so much more bearable when Buck was around. “Take a breath,” the alpha says. Eddie realizes that he hadn't just been stuck in his head. He had been visibly tense and just standing there, hadn't even put his uniform shirt on yet. It was clenched in his balled fist. He feels Buck’s fingers carefully remove the shirt from his hand. “Breathe, Eddie.” Eddie takes a shuddering breath. And then another, until he has cleared his mind enough that the tension in his shoulders leaves. “That's good,” the alpha says with a grin. The grin only grows as the omega doesn't fight or argue as the alpha carefully dresses him. “You good?” Buck asks once Eddie is mostly dressed. And the omega seems mostly snapped out of it. 

Eddie opens his mouth to tell the alpha that he is fine now, that he appreciated his help, but right then Ravi approached them. Ravi must have been helping Bobby make breakfast for the crew because it clings to the younger man’s form and has the omega bolting for the nearest trash can. Setting off a series of events Eddie had desperately been avoiding. 

That was how Eddie found himself sitting in Bobby's office. Door closed so it was just him and the captain, much to Buck's dismay. 

Hen had swooped in, pulled medical rank, and kicked everyone else out of the locker room. She knew. Of course she knew. Hen always knew. But Eddie had been unbelievably grateful for that. She had offered to cover for him, but she told him it wouldn't take long for everyone to figure it out. Eddie might be good at hiding a lot of things, emotions, bruises, illegal activities, not that he does any of those any more. No. But this was something he wouldn't be able to hide long. His body was already making it known. Even his scent had started to change. 

“The longer you wait, the worse it will be, those sad blue eyes were your weakness before you were carrying his kid. You're in for it now,” she had told him. And the omega knew she was right. Just a glimpse of the worry in those blue eyes he so often got lost in when he'd looked back at him before the female beta kicked everyone out made his heart hurt. He was terrible at keeping things from Buck, even before they were together. 

The omega remembers where he is when Bobby sits down behind his desk with a sigh.

“How long have you known?” The captain asks. 

“Took three tests this morning,” Eddie admits. “But it'd been putting it off for a few days, but kind of obvious now.” The omega lets out a nervous laugh. He hadn't planned on telling anyone anything yet. “Haven't even called the doctor’s office yet.”

“You should get on that,” Bobby states. And Eddie could appreciate the fact his boss wasn't using his alpha or his captain tone. It was just a suggestion but Eddie was already planning on it. So he nods. 

“I know,” the omega sighs. He can tell his boss has a million questions but isn't sure what to say. “Yes, it's Buck’s. Yes, I'm going to tell him. No, I don't plan on doing anything stupid.”

That earns an amused chuckle from the alpha. “I figured,” Bobby says. “But you know what this means right?”

“Medic duty or desk duty?” Eddie asks. 

“You’re with Hen on the rig for now,” the captain states. “No fires, no dangerous rescues, no hero stuff.”

“That's always more of Buck's thing,” Eddie smiles. Earning another laugh from the captain. 

“You both live for the daring rescues, but-”

“Oh believe me, my boots are staying on the ground for a good long while. Just the idea of that stupid ladder makes my stomach twist.” The omega wasn't lying. The sway of the ladder even with the stabilizers out would probably have him losing his lunch at this rate. Hell, he'd probably lose it just watching Buck up there, especially after what had happened. 

“Just try not to push yourself too much, the first few months are always the worst for it.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” the omega sighs. 

Buck was waiting for him outside Bobby’s office. The captain just shook his head and grinned. Heading off to make something that the omega could hopefully keep down for breakfast. 

“Are you okay?” Buck asks. And his concern is written all over his face. The omega nods as he glances around. 

“There's something I need to tell you,” Eddie says before leading somewhere more private. The silent conference room.

The silence must be gnawing at the alpha because as soon as the door to the conference room shuts he asks. “What's going on, Eddie? You're not like…”

The omega holds his breath as he lets the alpha find whatever word he is searching for. 

“Sick, right? Like sick, sick. You'd have told me right? Because-”

And Eddie thinks it's adorable how Buck rambles when he's nervous. But Eddie might as well just rip the bandaid off on this one. Half the team already knew. 

“I'm pregnant,” he tells him. The blunt nature of the statement has the normally animated alpha stilling. It's painfully quiet for a beat.

“You’re…You are…we-”

“Yes, we,” Eddie gestures between himself and the alpha. “You're the only one I've been with since-”

“Since Ana,” Buck says, cringing slightly at the memory of the omega he has been in love with longer than he'd been willing to admit was with someone else. “Right, yeah, okay. So…”

“So it's yours,” Eddie clarifies.

“Mine,” the alpha repeats. And the omega gets nervous as it gets quiet again. The only noise is the sound of Eddie's fingers tapping on the table he stands beside. 

“You don't have to-” Eddie starts but is cut off by the alpha's lips crashing against his.

“So you're not upset?”

“Upset?” The alpha laughs. “Eddie, you just told me we are going to have a kid. This is amazing. I was worried you were like dying or something. Freaked me out. The idea of losing you-” 

It's Eddie's turn to silence his alpha. He can't help it.

“I love you,” Eddie says and he is glad he did because Buck looks even happier, if that was even possible with how excited he had seemed before. The alpha is hauling him into a kiss again.

“Love you too,” Buck says against Eddie's lips. And Eddie tries to push the alpha away because he had only rinsed his mouth out after the nausea got the best of him, but Buck didn't care. Not in the slightest. He’d do a lot more than kiss the omega if he could get away with it. He wanted to show his omega how happy he had made him. How happy his inner alpha was at the idea of Eddie carrying his pup. His imagination already took the idea and ran with it and it had a growl rumbling through his chest. And the shiver that runs through the omega has the alpha pinning him to the table. Their make out session is cut short by a knock on the door before it opens. An amused Hen leans on the door frame. 

“All right, lovebirds,” she says with a grin. “Cap says food is ready.” Eddie groans. “The vent fans are on and Ravi changed his shirt, with much complaining, so you should be fine. Also, next time, close the damn blinds.”

“Thanks, Hen,” Eddie says.

“Mmhmm,” she says with a wave as she leaves. 

Buck has not moved. Eddie sighs. 

“Buck…” he starts. The alpha kisses him one last time before he pulls away and stands up. 

“You need to eat,” Buck states. He holds his hand out to the omega and hauls him up. 

“Hopefully, I can keep it down,” Eddie grumbles.

“We’ll find you something,” Buck squeezes his hand as they head to the loft. 

They tell the team during breakfast since everyone had questions as to why Eddie was being taken off rescues. Everyone was excited for them. 

Buck insists on going home with Eddie. And the omega didn't mind. But it ended up Buck following him home. And it's oddly comforting and sweet to look through his rearview mirror to see his alpha. And it has warmth spreading through his chest. 

Christopher is thrilled as he always is when Buck follows Eddie in. Carla gives Eddie a knowing look. He follows her into the kitchen. 

“You tell him?” She asks Eddie when it is clear Christopher has Buck’s attention in the living room. 

“Yeah,” Eddie admits. She had been trying to get him to test since the first time she had picked Christopher up from school and the boy complained he was nearly late that day because Eddie overslept and seemed sick. The female omega had tried to gently nudge the anxious man to confirm what she already knew. 

“So it went well?” She asks. Before Eddie could answer Buck was planting a kiss on Eddie's cheek as he moved past him to grab Christopher a drink from the fridge. And just as fast as he came in, he leaves. 

“Told you he'd be all in,” she grins. 

“I know,” Eddie sighs. “We’re going to tell Christopher.” 

“He’s going to be so happy.”

“I hope so,” the nervous omega says. 

“He will,” Carla assures him. “Right, well since you're both here, I'm going to head out.”

Eddie looks over at his stove and he doesn't have it in him to cook. He leans heavily against the counter as he tries to figure out what to do. He must have taken too long in the kitchen after Carla left because Buck came looking for him.

“You okay?” the alpha asks as he makes his way over to his omega. 

“Yeah,” The omega nods and answers. “Just tired.”

Buck runs his hands up and down his omega's arms to soothe him. “Too tired to stick to the plan or…” The alpha smiles when Eddie leans against him. 

“Nah, he deserves to know,” Eddie says. 

“Why don't you go relax, I’ll order something to eat.” Buck says, he gives into his inner alpha and kisses the omega's temple. Earning a contented hum from Eddie. The tired omega shifts and buries his face in the alpha’s shoulder. 

“Dad?” Christopher calls. 

Eddie looks up quickly to see his son in the doorway. 

“Hey bud,” Eddie says. “What's up?” His son seems to eye him skeptical. It was silent for a moment. 

“Hey superman,” Buck says. “How's pizza sound?”

Christopher nods, “Unless dad’s not feeling-”

“I'm okay, bud,” Eddie is quick to assure him. “And pizza’s fine with me.”

“Are you sure?” Christopher still sounds unconvinced.

“Want to just do it now?” Buck whispers to Eddie. It sends an involuntary shiver through the omega. “Will probably make him worry less if he knows what's going on,” the alpha adds.

Eddie nods. He takes a deep breath. The fact that his senses are filled with the alpha's scent calms his nerves just a bit. Buck was there no matter how this went. They’d figure it out as a family, a pack. He turns towards Christopher. 

“There's something important we need to talk to you about, Christopher,” Eddie starts.

“If it's that you're dating, I kind of know that already,” Christopher says. 

That gets a huff of a laugh from the alpha. “That tracks.”

Eddie grins. “I know, Carla told me you figured that out already.”

“So, what is it?”

Eddie looks back at Buck and honestly, the alpha looks so excited he might lose it. “You tell him.” And the smile that takes over the alpha's face makes the hormonal omega's heart soar. 

“You're going to be a big brother, bud,” Buck tells Christopher. And the omega holds his breath as Christopher processes that information, looking between Buck and Eddie. 

“You're having a pup?” Christopher looks over at his dad. 

Eddie nods, “Is that okay?” 

Christopher huffs. “That's a stupid question.” But the smile on his face betrays him. “It's better than okay, it's awesome.” Buck laughs. 

Eddie sighs. 

“Had us going there for a second, kid,” Buck grins. He ruffles Christopher's hair. “Now go watch TV while I order food.”

“Okay, Buck,” Christopher says. 

“Well, that was…” Buck chuckles as he goes over and pulls Eddie against him. The way the omega stays against him like a puppet that had its strings cut makes him think that maybe the kid had his own suspicions and was teasing them a bit. “That kid is too smart for his own good.”

“Or ours,” Eddie mumbles as he buries his face in Buck's neck again. 

“True, but he's going to be an amazing big brother,” the alpha assures.

“Yeah, he will,” the omega can't help but picture it. A little pack all their own. Buck, Eddie, Christopher and a tiny little pup. It’s the first time he's really let himself believe it. And it brings tears of joy to his eyes. Tears that the alpha must feel because he is pulling back just enough to look at the omega. The smile and sweet scent of his happy partner is enough to remove any worry the alpha had in the moment. 

“Go relax,” the alpha insists. “I’ll be right there.”

After Dinner Eddie falls asleep watching a movie with Christopher. Buck takes the opportunity to check his phone. There are a handful of messages from Chimney begging him to tell Maddie because if he doesn't Chim might. And the alpha chuckles to himself. He tells Chim to relax. He’s meeting her for breakfast in the morning. 

Buck smiles as he greets his sister with a hug.

“You look happy,” the female beta grins as they sit down. 

“I am,” Buck tells her. 

“How's Eddie and Christopher?” 

“Christopher is good, just dropped him at school.”

“And your omega?” She teases. 

“He's probably still in bed,” Buck says. She gives him an amused look. “Morning sickness will do that.” 

“Evan…are you telling me,” Maddie rushes to ask. “You're having a pup? Evan Buckley! How am I just learning about this?”

“I just found out yesterday, the team did too because Eddie is having a hard time keeping anything down.”

“First few months can be rough,” she says. “But I'm sure you're already all over that.” 

“Yeah, Bobby's been a big help. Moved Eddie to the rig with Hen. Working on helping him figure out what he can eat.”

“I'm so excited for you guys.” The beta female smile and scent exudes comfort and familiarity that brings so much joy to the alpha.

“I'm just shocked Chim didn't spoil the surprise,” Buck chuckles to avoid the overwhelming onset of emotions. His life had gotten so.much better in a single day. And his sister seemed so proud of him. He loved them all so much. His pack. 

“It does explain why he avoided talking about you or Eddie. I thought maybe a ring, not a pup, but I'm excited now. Evan, you are going to be an amazing dad. You already are really. Christopher adores you.”

“Well, he's the best so that's easy,” Buck nods, but he had one question he was unsure about. “How do you think mom and dad will react?” the alpha asks.

“They’ll be happy if your guys are happy. They already love Christopher.”

“You think?”

“I know.” 

“We know, mijo,” Isabel Diaz says with a grin after he tells them the news. Tia Pepa laughs at the shocked look on the omega’s face.

“You’re not very subtle, Edmundo,” his aunt states. “You might want to call your mother before one of your cousins does.” His abuela quickly agrees. “Or one of your boys lets it slip.” 

Eddie’s parents were happy for him when he told them. They promise to visit soon. 

Over the next few weeks Buck manages to make arrangements for his apartment. His landlord agrees to let him out of the lease, it was a fight at first but the alpha agrees to pay the early termination fee with little argument. Eddie thought they could have done better but Buck just wanted it done. The team and Maddie had helped him move what he needed. Eddie complains the whole time since Buck won't let him do anything but supervise. The omega ends up making sure everything is sorted and labeled probably.

Buck moving in was almost too easy. He didn't need to keep much. He didn't have a whole lot he cared about. Most of his furniture had been picked by his ex. His sentimental items would easily find a home at Eddie's or stored away for use when they needed a bigger home. An inevitability that would probably happen sooner, rather than later. 

Buck had practically lived at Eddie's long before he moved in. He spent most of his free time there even before the pair got together. So Buck had long been familiar with the Diaz family routines. He knew where everything was and the trio were shockingly good at navigating the space without frustration. The opposite really. It made Eddie unbelievably happy. The omega’s heart soared at how easily at home his alpha was in his space. How Christopher had helped find homes for the Alpha's belongings among the cupboards, shelves and drawers throughout the house. At one point during the process Buck had pulled Eddie into his arms and the omega nearly cried at how right everything felt. It was like things made more sense the way they were now that Buck's photos were added to the tables and walls. 

Buck can't believe how right it feels every time he walks in the door to what is now their home. Going home to his omega and son always had a smile forming on the alpha's face and a warm feeling in his chest. He had always believed that the most important thing he could feel as an alpha was pride. That is what his dad and his coaches always said. Pride felt good. It might be important to most alphas, but it was nothing compared to what Buck felt now. Days like this made him feel bad for those pride focused alphas. Because nothing hit Buck harder or made him feel more alive than coming home to his pack, his family. He felt so much love the alpha thinks that life can't get better. He thinks that, but every time he finds out he is wrong in the best way possible. 

It was early and the house was quiet. It had been a long shift and it was worse when they worked different shifts. He had worked at the station before Eddie had joined the team, but it was different now. The two of them were partners. Partners in anything and everything even before they got together. Not having Eddie there was like someone had taken away half of what made him good at his job. The omega would argue Buck was always good at his job. He didn't need Eddie for that. But Buck was always better when Eddie was there. Bobby had reminded him he'd have to get used to it. Eddie could take up to a year off. Even if he knew it was for the best, Buck knew he wouldn't like it. Buck’s thoughts circle back to what started his mind on this track when after checking in on a sleeping Christopher he makes his way to the room he and Eddie share. And Buck has never felt anything like the sheer amount of love he feels when he sees Eddie. Eddie looks adorable, something Eddie will never admit he is, bundled in what is basically a nest of blankets and Buck’s clothes. He knew it was a thing omegas did, especially pregnant ones, but seeing it when it's your omega? It's beautiful. The alpha moves as silently as possible. Eddie was a light sleeper usually, and sometimes just the change of having Buck's fresh scent in the air was enough to wake him on bad nights when he came in. But the omega must be exhausted, or maybe just really comfy, to sleep this deep. Buck was glad he had showered at the station before he left. He quickly gets ready and carefully moves to join his omega. Which the alpha isn't surprised finally wakes his sleeping partner. 

“Just me,” Buck assures him and the effect is instantaneous. Eddie just hums as what little tension the disturbance caused vanishes. The omega reaches out to pull the alpha towards him. Buck chuckles at the way Eddie scents him once Buck is nestled in. The barely awake omega burying his face in his lover’s neck before quickly falling back asleep. Buck has no complaints. Eddie is tucked tight against him and they would stay that way for a few more hours. Then, begrudgingly, the alpha would have to let go so Eddie could get Christopher ready for school. At least Buck would know Eddie had a partial good night's rest. 

When Buck got up it was late morning. Christopher was already at school.

“Morning,” Eddie said when Buck walked into the kitchen. “How'd the shift go?” Eddie silently waited and watched with amusement as Buck shrugged and got a cup of coffee. “One of those mornings, huh?” Eddie grinned. 

He was answered by the alpha draining half the hot drink and then making his way over to where Eddie was leaned against the counter. The alpha buried his face in the omega neck. 

“That bad?” Eddie chuckles. The omega's fingers card through the taller man’s hair. 

“Shifts are too long,” Buck says, half mumbled in Eddie's shoulder and neck. Eddie smiles and nods. He gets that. Sometimes a shift could drag on even if it had plenty of calls to deal with. It was the downtime that got you. 

“Missed you too,” Eddie says. That has the alpha pulling back so he can probably kiss him. “Hungry?” Eddie asks when they pull apart and Buck goes for the rest of his caffeine fix. Eddie laughs at the nod and mumbled “yes, please,” and “starving”, from the alpha. Eddie might not be the best cook but he had made extra pancakes from a mix he and Chris, thanks to Carla, had long ago discovered could be made during his off days. The mix could be made in pancakes and frozen or just save them having to do it every day. Because they couldn't survive off cereal alone. Not when Chris was growing like a weed and Eddie worked a physically intense job. Occasionally, they'd do waffles or something special, but today had been a pancake day. So getting the alpha's ready was easy. 

Buck watched Eddie make the one meal the omega had confidence in making. The alpha could get used to mornings like this.

#tw: vomiting #tw: mpreg #tw: angst #tw: anxiety #alpha omega pairing #buddie fic #alpha buck buckley #omega eddie diaz

[koocycle]

as you were | jungkook one shot

↳ synopsis. He was only two months into knowing you, yet he already loved and cherished you like no one had done before. But now you’re gone, and you brutally left him nothing behind besides a story with missing puzzle pieces and a set of questions.

pairing. architect! jungkook x fem reader

word count. 4.6k

au + genre. summer! au, semi-exes! au, angst, fluff.

warnings. none

author’s note. being on a writing hiatus for more than a year now, you’d think this was planned to make a come back. (jokes on you and me both), but i actually wrote this rough draft half a year ago and never pushed myself to finish it. struggled with it, could cry over it, same old same old when it comes to me and writing. i’ve decided to get my ass out there and post one of my hundred, rotten and forgotten drafts!!

also why i want to thank @latetaektalk for being SO patient with me as she keeps pushing me (in the most unfriendliest ways) to keep it going!! linh who’s been reading every draft (and each version of every draft, if yk what i mean), from hundreds of different aus. MUCH much thanks!!

while i’m working on bigger things that bring me more joy while writing, i want to show my face out here before i hide in my docs again, and until i dare to peek out again with something new and better, i’d love to read what you think!

this is based off the netflix series ‘lovestruck in the city’.

Jungkook was eager to unravel your every secret.

Without much doubt, both parties knew that you’ve gotten him hooked around your finger from the moment he laid his eyes on you. And you knew there was not much that could go wrong; it never mattered to him how mischievous or how harmless your secrets could possibly be, to what limit his imagination dared to sketch the images you never showed him. Never has he cared about the weight they could hold on to, about the depth that only seemed to increase the longer he thought about all the things you could be hiding from him. You drove him insane like nobody had ever done before. There were no restrictions when it came to you and him, never did he even dare himself to think about setting boundaries. Like a love-sick campus boy, Jungkook was only longing to learn more about you. Over his dead body that he was ever losing you like a damned fool would.

‘‘I think what I’m trying to say is that… it’s probably better for us to pretend last summer never happened.’’

Jungkook’s phone screen falls black in his hand when the voicemail goes quiet once more, coming to an abrupt ending that has his office go mute. His fingers travel through his dark locks ever so gently, like they aren’t filled with rage. His body grows tense in his office chair, no tears hanging on for dear’s life in the corners of his eyes this time around. Maybe they were there the first few times he listened to the 30-second audio eight months ago, maybe the tears were shamelessly streaming down his cheeks back then. Yet today, his sadness is replaced with fury, and it’s everything he can’t handle.

Jungkook doesn’t want to go home just yet. The sky above his workplace paints a hideous, jet black shade and the inside of the building is gloomy and tragic at this hour of the day. The place looks a bit unfortunate without the presence of his colleagues around here, but it’s not enough reason to bring himself home. He’d tell you the cheap prosecco he just poured in his coffee cup is what keeps him at the office this late, just like how he’d tell you he’s used to heavier liquids other than the bubbled wine he buys at local night shops. Yet his eyes are starting to get heavy, and there’s no point in lying when you were the person who knew him best.

Your voice doesn’t even sound the same in the message. The merry tone that always colored your words was not there when you told him to forget about you—again, over a voice message. An action so impersonal, so distant and so foolish, like it was easy for you to forget about him, expecting him to do the same thing with a snap of his fingers. And maybe it was him who was the foolish one for not expecting you to be capable of such cruelty.

‘‘You remember my phone number, right?’’ Is what he asked the final time he was able to hold you, beams of sweat dripping down his forehead with the way the sun fell down his skin.

Worried, massive eyes met yours for the nth time that day.

‘‘Yes, Jungkook.’’ You grinned at him, eyes twinkling the longer you watched him in his troubled state. ‘‘You only made me repeat it a hundred times. I’ll probably forget it the second you’re gone.’’

His smile was unbeatable. ‘‘You’re cheeky.’’ His fingers nipped at your cheeks, ‘‘what if you forget?’’

‘‘I won’t.’’

He sent you a knowing glare. ‘‘What will you do if you do?’’

Merely to satisfy him, your hands scurried inside your shoulder bag to find what he was wishing to see. In a rather clumsy manner, you pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, fingers hurrying to open it. ‘‘Then I got this.’’

His teeth showed. ‘‘That’s my girl.’’ It only took another look into your eyes before he felt secured again, arms falling atop your shoulders to pull you closer to him. His chest was firm as your head rested against him, the assuring hand on the back of your head not dismissed. ‘‘I told you to get yourself a phone. Would’ve made this so much easier.’’

‘‘I told you I’ll be getting one as soon as I get back home.’’ You had told him. ‘‘You’ll miss your flight if we’re getting into this now.’’

‘‘You say that as if that’s a bad thing.’’

‘’You’re lame.’’ Your eyes shot up to meet his, the arms you had wrapped around his waist tightening when they did. ‘‘You should go before you actually miss it, though.’’

He took another moment to take your features in, eyes scanning over every possible detail he could find so he could safely hide them in a memory box up his head. That, for what he thought would be for the time being.

‘‘Kiss me first?’’

Jungkook was a dork, you should’ve seen it coming, yet the taken aback looking smile that made your lips curve was there all the same. You reached up as you stood on your tippy toes, a chuckle leaving both you and him before you were able to press your lips against his. ‘‘I’ll miss this.’’

‘‘No need to.’’ He grinned down at you. ‘‘Do you remember our meeting spot?’’

Your eyes flickered back to his lips. ‘‘Of course I do.’’

‘‘When, baby?’’

You studied him. ‘‘The final Saturday of the month.’’ You cooed, meeting his gaze again and a hand reaching up to rest on his chest so you could gently push him away. ‘‘Now go. I’m not joking.’’

‘‘Whatever you want’’

With a silly, boyish grin on his face, he gripped on to the suitcases on his side. A firm grip on them in the hopes they’d increase his will to leave you. And barely later, when he was only a few steps ahead of you, Jeon Jungkook turned back around to shower you with a dozen of pecks, not without muttering a quick but ensured ‘‘I’ll see you soon.’’ after, of course.

The cup of prosecco in his grip feels heavier than ever before now. He should’ve known you were not one to keep a promise.

Jungkook is in a mourning state the day after. Ever since the clock hit 9 AM as he’s cleared his office; throwing unnecessary papers, floor plans and blueprints out of the way, his mind still doesn’t stay on track. The ongoing design that’s displayed on his computer screen stares back at him in a mocking manner and if it wasn’t for the way Jung Hoseok is keeping an eye out on him just outside his office, he’d be losing himself in another bottle of wine by now. He could always close his blinds, a little voice in the back of his head has been challenging him, but Jungkook knows that it’s only a matter of time before the office’s little mouse barges in to give him a lecture about whatever ‘consequences’ he could be going through if he continues now.

And as if proving his exact point not too long after that, it’s exactly Jung Hoseok that titters into the room like it’s him who owns the place.

‘‘Can’t you knock?’’ Jungkook groans when the older man is only a couple steps in, fingertips reaching up to massage his throbbing temples, elbows supporting his position.

‘‘I could if I wanted to,’’ Hoseok sing-songs in response, a disturbing layer of satisfaction coating his voice as he does so. ‘‘But I like the concept of caution. Makes things a little more exciting in here.’’

The younger can only so much roll his eyes at him, swallowing the words that are seated at the tip of his tongue. ‘‘You don’t have to check up on me every hour. I can take care of myself.’’

‘‘Oh, but I know you can. You’re just not doing it.’’ The elder marvels, his voice a tad bit too loud for an already hectic morning like this. He makes himself comfortable in place, diving down Jungkook’s leather sofa with his hands behind his head like it isn’t his first time. ‘‘How is the design going?’’

‘‘Fine, I guess.’’ Jungkook whimpers, palms rubbing his eyes like he just strolled out of bed. His hair looks like something has gone through them a couple times already, and once more, a hand goes up to do exactly that. ‘‘I’m changing it up.’’

‘‘Again?’’ Hoseok asks from his snug position on the couch. ‘‘How long do you want to keep those people waiting for?”

‘‘I wanna give them what they’re paying me for. God damn.’’ He falls back in his chair with a loud huff, fingers crossing over his chest. ‘‘Not some shitty design that’s making me run in circles.’’

‘‘You know you’re not, right?’’ The brunet sits up, tugging his glasses higher up his nose before leaning down to rest his arms atop his thighs. ‘‘Come on, what did she do to you, Jeon?’’

She.

It’s not Jung Hoseok’s fault that Jungkook became so fucking delicate. And the younger usually enjoys putting a flat hand on his chest as he swears it’s merely a phase he has to go through: a phase of heartbreak, a phase of discomfort that takes some more time to heal. It’s easy for people like Jung Hoseok to walk in here and pretend like everything is fine. People like Jung Hoseok who got their lives figured out with the people they love. It’s an easy job for them to talk out loud, and it’s peak arrogance if Jungkook were one to speak.

‘‘Don’t talk about her.’’

‘‘Obviously, it seems like I’ve got to when you’re not doing what those people pay you for. All fingers point her way, Jungkook.’’ Hoseok hisses, pinched brows pulling together. ‘‘You went on a vacation and met that woman just as fast as she disappeared. You used to finish project after project with ease, people quite literally lined up to see you work in action. Suddenly you come back and lose your drive? As if.’’

‘‘Can you stop? I don’t need you to give me a lecture.’’ Jungkook jeers. ‘‘You don’t know her. The way I get to work these days is on me, I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.’’

Hoseok nods with a tightness to it, like he’s holding himself back from spilling words he’ll regret. ‘‘Okay.’’ he mutters quietly, fingers grazing over his denim jeans. ‘‘I just want the best for you, you’re my friend and that woman was no good. It’s for the better if you forget about her.’’

For the better, he said.

Jungkook huffs, fixing his position so half his face hides behind his computer screen. ‘‘You can get out if you came to argue.’’ He doesn’t like the way his voice sounds, but he’s having a hard time toning it down. ‘‘I’ve got work to do.’’

Hoseok doesn’t say anything after that, sensing that silence is the best way to deal with his younger friend for now. Thus he gets up and exits the room without another word, leaving Jungkook and his thoughts to suffer by himself for the time being. It’s not something he enjoys doing, but Jungkook has always been a little stubborn, an individual that needs time for himself to sort his thoughts out. He’ll figure it out by himself sooner or later.

On the other side of the door, Jungkook is unsure what to do with himself as soon as the soft thud is heard from behind Hoseok’s back. The office runs quiet again and Jungkook’s thoughts are the one thing keeping him trapped in his chair, still and timid like the incomplete design isn’t staring back at him in a pleading, discomforting manner. He would love to care, take charge and put a little more effort into it, yet his mind is elsewhere, making it hard for him to keep his head into the game.

That woman was no good, he had said. His chest filled with confidence as he spoke, making sure Jungkook understood every word even though the younger boy would much rather cover his ears. It was a work in progress, Jungkook had been telling himself the past couple of months, but people like Jung Hoseok only seemed to be eager to speed things up.

You can’t be a bad person—Jungkook knows you are not a bad person. Jungkook saw things that others didn’t see, felt things that he knew you felt as well. And even though he had known you for no longer than a brisk two months, he was sure he was ready to examine your every persona that was hidden beneath the flowery, dazzling girl he met at that beach last year. You promised him that much.

‘‘I think we should just dive in!’’ You had exclaimed back then, wet sand creeping between your toes the more you jumped around the place. ‘‘I’m like, so ready to catch some of those waves you’ve been gushing about.’’

‘‘Absolutely not.’’ Jungkook scoffed on your side, the slight curves that tugged on to the edges of his lips betraying his cool character nonetheless. ‘‘We’ve got to go through the basics before we actually get into the water, you know that right?’’

He watched as you threw your head back at him, a loud and exaggerated groan leaving your throat before you locked gazes again, an obvious pout on your lips this time. ‘‘What’s even fun about that,’’ you whined. ‘‘You’re so boring.’’

‘‘Patience, baby.’’ He beamed, two hands curled around each hip from behind with a slight push forward, ever so gentle, of course. ‘‘Now, get on that board for me. I’ll teach you some positions.’’

He knew what was coming when he saw the way your brows shot up. ‘‘Positions…’’ You sang, a teasing edge to it as a silly grin spread on your face.

‘‘Keep on dreaming, doll.’’ He quipped, fingers nipping at your chin and the way he fought his smile back not missed by you. ‘‘Now do as I say before I make you figure it out yourself.’’

You complied with ease after deciding you shouldn’t be the one to give him such a hard time that early into the crisped morning. He noted how you were having a difficult time keeping your lips sealed shut as he kept stepping around the surfboard beneath your feet, knowing he got the upper hand even if it was you who slipped inside his trailer that morning. Ever the sly little fox you were, your feather-light footsteps did nothing to wake him up as you sneaked into his cramped bed—it was nothing compared to the queen-sized bed you hid from him inside your hotel room just a little away from the beach’s area, but you were not planning on telling him as long as you could slip beneath his thinned covers instead.

It wasn’t like Jungkook was giving you a run for your money, either. Even that same night, when you eventually snuggled deeper at his side and let your arms fall all over his body, outside’s chilly air still lingering on your skin as you did so, he didn’t complain one bit. Jungkook slept with his door unlocked for a reason, and he thought it was more than worth it. Not even when you dragged him out of his bus barely an hour later, clumsily tugging his surfboard beneath your free arm on your way to the shore as you begged him to teach you how to surf. His eyes were still puffy and his hair was a hot mess in the middle of the empty beach, pushed out of his face by the many times you had run your fingers through it.

Yet still, he taught you how to surf. Because Jungkook could never say no to you.

‘‘Basically,’’ you had started, feet planted on the wooden material. ‘‘We live together at this point.’’

‘‘Is that so,’’ Jungkook chirped, his question not really a question. ‘‘Spread your arms. Like this,’’ his hands moved from your behind to grip on both of your wrists, spreading them to match the board beneath you.

‘‘Hmm, yeah,’’ your head fell down his shoulder as soon as you felt his chest pressed against your back, hot breath fanning in his neck. ‘‘Don’t you think so? I’ve been sleeping in your trailer for a week now and you haven’t kicked me out once.’’

‘‘I should’ve.’’ He piped, his smile evident in his voice. ‘‘Spread your feet as well.’’

You did as he told you, curving your upper body when you felt his hands guide you. ‘‘You would never,’’ you snapped back at him, a smile fighting its way on your face. ‘‘Could never.’’

‘‘Curve your back and go down your knees a bit. Your posture looks off.’’ Ignoring your previous comment, he knew he couldn’t beat you to it.

‘‘I think I got it now.’’ You started, waving his hands off you before you turned around. ‘‘We should totally get into the water now that we’ve got the place to ourselves.’’

Jungkook was nearly melting in your hands when you brought them up to cup the plush of his cheeks, ushering him a tad bit closer to place a quick kiss on the tip of his nose, another one followed against the corner of his mouth when he didn’t provide you an answer.

Hooded eyes looked down at you instead. ‘‘You’re underestimating how complex of a sport this is, doll.’’ His features fell serious even as his thumb rubbed circles on your hip bone, a small gesture of kindness Jungkook always seemed to carry with him.

‘‘I don’t doubt that at all.’’ You preened, hands playing with the hairs at the back of his neck, ‘‘but I got myself such a great tutor, not much can go wrong.’’

With a pause and another look into your eyes, he couldn’t pass. ‘‘You’re so used to having everything your way, I don’t know how you do it.’’

Correction: Jeon Jungkook knew quite exactly how you did it—it was like you had put a spell on him that’s got him looking like a lovesick fool chasing rainbows. Hence it didn’t surprise him when your fingers intertwined with his own the moment a smile flashed up on his face. With your hand that had looked so much smaller, so much more delicate than his rough ones, he underestimated the power they held when you dragged him forward, heading straight towards the water with his surfboard clutched beneath your arm.

‘‘I told you it seems easier than it actually is.’’

The damp piece of cloth felt hot against your skin the more pressure Jungkook put against it, the shed’s familiar scent of old paint and planed wood reaching your senses as soon as he told you to sit down. ‘‘And I believed you,’’ you chirped, ‘‘but we had fun, right?’’

Jungkook huffed. ‘‘There is no fun in you getting hurt.’’

‘‘Good thing I’m not hurt anywhere.’’ Jungkook crouched down to match your eye level, not offering you a response as he pinched his brows together and gently continued tapping the cloth against the blossoming bruise on your forehead. ‘‘Can you stop worrying that big head of yours? You’re making me nervous.’’

‘‘I make you nervous?’’ He snorted. ‘‘You fell pretty fucking hard, ___.’’

A hint of annoyance coated his voice like you haven’t heard before. The lips that curled inwards gave it away. ‘‘So? I feel fine now.’’

He didn’t say anything at that and continued to focus on the bruised spot above your brow. You took the opportunity to inspect his features as he did so, allowing your head to fall back against the wall on your side as your eyes attempted to pry into his. Silence took over when you waited for him to say something to tame the tension down, but yet again, without much luck on your side.

‘‘Now what, you’ll just ignore me because you don’t believe me?’’

It didn’t take much for him to drop his hand then, thighs supporting his elbows as a hand ran over his face with a huff. ‘‘It’s not that, ___.’’ He refuted, cheeks blown out. ‘‘You’re just so fucking careless, I wish you wouldn’t push your safety aside just because you,’’ he air quoted, ‘‘‘had fun’.’’

The look that swam in your eyes after that was something he had rather not seen; they were a little conflicted, unable to think of words to say next and the silence that ran through was a bit strange for the type of relationship you shared.

‘‘Ah,’’ he groaned, standing up on stretched legs once again. ‘‘Forget about it.’’

You gave yourself a little longer to keep quiet then, watching as Jungkook awkwardly dusted his pants off and casually started to pace around the shed like you wouldn’t notice the way his cheeks colored a pretty pink. His tattooed fingers played with a couple figurines by the window and it took everything in you to keep yourself composed, (for the sake of his own ego).

‘‘It’s okay,’’ you stood up from your seat, the rusted creak obvious to Jungkook’s ears. ‘‘I like listening to what you’ve got to say.’’

His stomach grew warmer the closer you got, and unlike the floor in his camper, where you tried your best to hide every footstep from him, the shed’s unoiled floor gave them all away.

‘‘It wasn’t important.’’ He had said, body visibly relaxing at the feel of your arms that wrapped around his waist, cheek squished against his back like you knew what it did to him.

‘‘Sounded important to me,’’ you replied, voice small as you hugged him tighter. ‘‘Besides, I like it when you get concerned like that—at what? Week three into knowing me?’’ You teased him, knowing he felt the way you looked up at him from behind. ‘‘When will you be proposing, Jeon? You can’t keep me on my toes forever.’’

‘‘Please,’’ He prattled, no way you couldn’t sense his smile. ‘‘Like you’d say yes.’’

You hummed, the vibrations running through his skin. ‘‘You don’t know unless you try.’’

It didn’t surprise you when he turned back around with a toothy grin on his face. ‘‘Alright, you little tease,’’ he cooed. ‘‘Show me that huge bulge on your forehead.’’

You slapped his chest. ‘‘It’s not huge!’’

‘‘Hm, sure.’’ He mumbled, thumb softly stroking against your forehead. ‘‘It’s massive. Can’t keep my eyes off it.’’

You crossed your arms, muttering a quiet ‘‘jerk,’’ underneath your breath but swallowed the rest of your complaints when his hands cupped the sides of your face, fingertips tugging strands of hair behind your ears as his eyes flickered down your lips. He didn’t ask for permission this time, feeling like it was the right thing to do when your mouths molded together, his fingers resting at the back of your neck as his thumb caressed your cheeks, lips guiding you for better access. Jungkook’s hands slipped lower down your back and rested in place before he pushed you closer to stand chest to chest.

A look of uncertainty painted his face when you broke the kiss, ‘‘You haven’t brought me here before.’’ your arms still embraced him but your curious cat eyes scanned your surroundings. ‘‘Is this where you hide from me?’’

He snickered. ‘‘Can’t hide from you, doll.’’

Jungkook leaned down to press another longing kiss on your lips again but you moved away, resulting in him kissing your jaw instead. ‘‘Are those yours?’’

‘‘Mhm.’’ He hummed, nose pressing against your skin as he inhaled your sweet fragrance.

‘‘You’re not even looking!’’

The heavy man in your arms didn’t bother to lift his head from the comfortable spot on your shoulder this time, the small, wet pecks he left in the crook of your neck not coming to a nearing end, either. ‘‘I don’t have to look. Everything in here is mine.’’

‘‘You’ve got to be kidding.’’ You struggled yourself out of his arms when your eyes fell on something in the distance, moving past him to reach out for it. Jungkook followed after you with a long huff, arms limply falling next to his frame. ‘‘These are yours?’’

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, but your excited voice made up for it. ‘‘Yeah,’’ he grinned. ‘‘You like them?’’

‘‘Do I like them?’’ Your eyes bulged out of your head, a camera in each hand that you came to admire. ‘‘I love them Kook, what…’’

‘‘Careful with them, baby.’’ He quickly reached out for them just in case anything went wrong, one hand on your hip as the other went to the heavier device. ‘‘They’re fragile.’’

Heartening eyes met his, yours filled with curiosity. ‘‘Can you teach me how to work with them?’’

And there you went doing that again; eyes growing until they couldn’t increase any more, corners of your lips that were unable to stay into a straight line due to the excitement that became visible feature by feature. And yes, Jungkook fell for it, once again.

‘‘Again,’’ he began, wanting to tease you a bit further. ‘‘It’s not the easiest hobby out there.’’

He watched as you rolled your eyes to the back of your head. ‘‘We get it, you’re a genius. But I’ve got to start somewhere, no?’’ You gauged, fingers playing with the buttons before you looked through the viewfinder. ‘‘How hard can it be to shoot a couple pictures?’’

Jungkook studied the way you pinched one eye to a close, how your nose scrunched and lips pursed. ‘‘There’s a lot you need to keep in mind while doing so,’’ he dared to wrap his arms around your waist again, nice and warm as he placed his chin on your shoulder. ‘‘Where is all this curiosity coming from anyway? First the surfing, now the cameras…’’

‘‘Hm, can’t I be curious?’’ You smiled, loving the way his breath fanned your throat. ‘‘You’re an architect that surfs and photographs? Something is not clicking.’’

He listened to your mumbles, the teasing tone not dismissed. ‘‘Are you doubting my skills now?’’ He jabbered, ‘‘Come on baby, can’t deny that I was pretty impressive out there. Don’t think I didn’t see you drooling all over me.’’

‘‘Of course, Kook.’’ You hummed, a pretty smile on your face. ‘‘My boyfriend is pretty impressive.’’

The larger man grew still against you for a moment, progressing your words first. ‘‘Boyfriend…’’ he muttered, arms growing tighter around you as his fingers intertwined. ‘‘I like the way you say that.’’

‘‘Do you?’’

‘‘Hm, yes.’’ He pretended to think, trying to hide his beam in the dark spot of your neck. ‘‘Say it again?’’

You put the camera away. ‘‘Say what again?’’ You quipped, turning around to face him and wrap your arms around his neck. ‘‘Boyfriend?’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ he groaned, squinting his eyes. ‘‘Feels good.’’

It did feel good.

© koocycle 2022

#jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts #bts au #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #bts x you #bangtan

[hwanchaesong]

oh great! i was listening to some taylor swift songs today and dress came up and idk why i thought about a friends to lovers scenario with yunho shsodmd so i was wondering if i could request some fluffy scenario based on that ✨ and i'll leave it up to you if you want it to be suggestive 👀

a/n: oh gosh i am literally listening to ts songs all week and that song is so ughhhh

👤: ATEEZ Jeong Yunho

📼: Dress - Taylor Swift

genre & warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive, cursing, university au, friends to lovers au

word count: 644

Your bestfriend's room has been your safe haven since childhood.

A place where you can cry, laugh, and get frustrated without any limitations.

It is also a place filled with secrets, both yours and his. Gossips here and there, talking about bitchy people behind their backs, complaining about teachers who think that they are the best even if they don't teach shit.

Everything happens inside that room.

Even your preparation for the date that your school's heartthrob invited you with.

Yunho watched you twirl around in that beautiful silky dress. It fits you perfectly, accentuating your curves and bringing out the best in you.

"You look a like a princess." he commented, your eyes sparkling at his compliment.

"You think so?" you excitedly yelped.

He stood up and kneeled like a prince, "Of course, now will you please give me the honor of having this dance?"

"Oh," you dramatically clasped your hands on your chest before placing yours in his, "I would love to."

It feels like magic even if the both of you probably look like idiots, moving around in the cramped area without music.

The moment was cut off when a motorcycle beeping outside was heard. Yunho's smile dropped when you detached yourself from him, hurriedly going downstairs.

"I have to go, Seonghwa's here. I'll see you later!"

"Yeah, see you later."

Later came on sooner than expected when you entered his place with a dejected expression. He immediately came to your aid, engulfing you in a tight hug and asking you what's wrong.

"Seonghwa is wrong. I can't believe that he asked me out on a date just for a bet."

Yunho's blood boiled at that, you don't deserve that kind of treatment.

He calmed his self down, he could beat that toothless's ass up without any problems, but right now, his priority is you.

He dragged you upstairs, sitting you down in his comfy bed and getting some snacks in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, your eyes roamed in his room, landing on a teenage picture placed at his work table.

"Remember that ugly buzzcut of mine and emo blonde hair of yours?"

Yunho's voice startled you a bit, "Oh gosh it's you. Please knock next time!"

He shrugged, "This is my room though."

He placed the tray of foods in his night stand, walking over to you to stare at the frame as well.

"Yeah, I do remember. We look so weird in that phase." you snickered, reminiscing about your past memories with him.

"I don't think so, you look pretty every time." he nonchalantly stated, making you gape at him like he just ate the last piece of chicken on the plate.

"Stop joking around." you slapped his chest, but what surprised you was when he caught it with his hand, enveloping it tightly.

"Y/N."

It's your name, a word that you hear every day in your life yet it sounded so different this time.

What changed?

"Since when did I ever joked about things like that?"

You were contemplating so hard on what to reply to him that you didn't notice the inching gap between the two of you.

Soon enough, your noses were touching, his warm breath ghosting over your lips.

"Never." you finally answered, and you were the one who sealed that kiss.

Teeth and tongues clashing, hands fervently roaming all over each other's skin and body.

The room, despite air-conditioned felt humid, the intense heat building up rather quickly.

When you pull away for air, his hands went over to the straps of your dress.

"Take it off." you whispered, "Take me."

People have always talked about you and Yunho, saying that you'll end up marrying each other.

You have always denied their allegations, and now you want to slap yourself for it because right now, all you want to do is grow old with him.

#ateez imagines #ateez #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez angst #ateez reactions #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho imagines #yunho angst #yunho fluff #yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho imagines #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho fluff #jeong yunho angst #hongjoong imagines #seonghwa imagines #yeosang imagines #san imagines #mingi imagines #wooyoung imagines #jongho imagines

[wildelydawn]

You had final thoughts for I’ll Ignite for You. Do you have any for Your Look Through this Lens?

Hi there; you asked this in August, and now it’s October. I waited so long because I didn't have an answer for you. And I still don’t know if I have an answer for you, but I think I’ll try anyway.

I want to first say that having final thoughts on II4Y was infinitely easier because of the nature of the story. Nothing happens in II4Y besides a conversation over the span of three days; and it’s a story that brings Kim and Porchay together and makes them part and then brings them back together when Kim is ready. (Even though II4Y is technically canon divergence, it could very well still take place after canon because I don’t believe Porchay needs to respond to the video. They just need to see each other, and that same spark/intensity from episode 4 would reignite, and that’s still up to Kim to do, in my opinion.)

Thoughts on YLTTL are different. One, I wrote from Porchay’s point of view, and while he’s not innocent or oblivious, he chooses to remain blissfully passive about the many inconsistencies with WIK. Porchay knows there’s something more to WIK, but he never asks because he knows that he’s not going to be WIK’s photographer forever. He knows he’s on a time limit. He has always known that; he’s ready to leave from the beginning of the story. @emberfaye asked me what the first part of Chapter 1 means and when it takes place. In that section, Porchay thinks about how unlucky he is to have the perfect subject because there's nothing to perfect. There is an ending; Porchay assumes the ending to all of this is WIK gets famous and moves on from him. So he's prepared (and maybe, in a meta way, this was my warning to readers to also prepare for the ending of YLTTL.)

The person who’s unprepared is Kim, and that’s borrowed from canon when Kim is looking at the polaroids of KimChay. And in YLTTL, I capitalized on that. He’s wildly unprepared for the fact that even the nicest feelings or moments don’t last forever. He's also unprepared in regards to the lies he tells, both in canon and in YLTTL. But he should be. He’s in the mafia. He knows nothing is permanent. But in YLTTL, he’s not ready for his music career to take off or even to leave the mafia. Chay is ready for the ending, though; he counts down the days every chapter. So, I guess the first thought is this idea of time: how much do you have of it? When will you be ready? When is the right time for whatever is it that you want to do?

Two, even if they were ready, circumstance isn’t on their side. This is just a fact of life. Kim asks Chay if things would have been different if they met at a grocery store. YLTTL was based on the idea that even in an AU, Kim and Chay don’t end up together. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. I personally don’t think the canon ending of KimChay means they don’t love each other, and I think I wrote YLTTL to explore that idea a bit more deeply.

Three: And like I said in this post about Amelia, there’s a (potentially harmful) narrative that you should stop loving someone once you’re not with them. Oddly, I think I love Amelia more than ever; I can safely say she still cares about me too! But we know it’s better to move forward and to accept that there’s no love lost. She’s not this ghost in my life. I talk about her with my current partner. I dedicate IRL works and fandom works to her. This surprises people, but she’s not just a muse. Similarly, Chay is not just a muse for Kim. They are always going to be tangled with one another. Their story doesn’t end just because things like marriage, distance, time, circumstance, exist. Kim is going to find Chay in every crowd, every hotel room, he’s going to hope that every person behind every camera is Chay, and Chay will take everything he learned about photography and apply it to every subject that comes after WIK, he’ll admit to people that he wishes he could photograph WIK some more, he’s going to hold his breath every time he opens his camera bag and then sigh in relief when he doesn’t see anything from Kim there because that means Kim is doing what Chay asked him to do. And even when they can’t see each other, they don’t have to go very far to see each other. The photographs will always be there. You don’t have to see love to feel love, in my opinion. Just because you feel lonely doesn’t mean you’re alone.

Anyways. I don’t think this answered your question at all tbh because YLTTL is a KimChay story and also, in a very twisted way, a story about time and loneliness. But I’ve left you sitting in my inbox for too long, and I hope this was somewhat satisfactory for you. Thank you for reading YLTTL! And thank you for being interested in my thoughts beyond the story! 🖤

#personal #ask #answered #love u anon #YLTTL #Amelia #II4Y #KimChay #myfics #my fics

[unfriendlyamazon]

20 question writer meme

love to do these thank you for taggin gme @alectoperdita

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

51 fics (plus a secret one when i made a fire emblem ao3)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

222,579 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

YGO is my main one, but i'd really like to break into stardew valley and aforementioned fire emblem 3 houses

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Baby Dragon (no surprise there)

Liking You and Me

Sweater Weather

In Awe of Flowers

A Hand to Hold

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do my very best to respond to comments because they make me so happy but sometimes if the fic is really old or I just don't feel like it I may not.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't really write a lot of angsty fics. Probably my angstiest work over all is Competitionverse and No Such Thing As A Free Lunch specifically since that's sort of about how things don't work. I have some angstier stuff in the works because I really want to dig into some Wheeler trauma. Did I ever post my vampire Joey origin on here? That's probably the saddest thing I've ever written.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably when I wrote Seto proposing to Joey

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a few comments especially since I write trans characters and a weird one on my fire emblem fic but I'm not afraid to delete.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I didn't used to! It was more I didn't trust my abilities but now I've gotten lots of practice and I find smut easiest to write. It has a inherent climax.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I write a lot of AUs but have yet to write a crossover. Maybe I should. Maybe it's time for some characters to meet each other.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I bounce ideas off @kaijous all the time and I would say we've co-written some stuff, though I don't think any of it's published.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

KaiJou 4 Eva

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Honestly back in the day I used to start so many fics I never finished which is why I've focused on one shots or series so at least I have something complete. I have a restaurant au in mind that's sort of based on The Bear and I'd really like to dig into it but it just seems like so much work. Of my published ones... Star Trek AU I'm sorry I abandoned you.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at natural dialogue and I hope my conversations flow. One thing I like to do and hopefully I'm good at is having characters react without recognizing their feelings. Especially with Seto Kaiba I try my best to write around the actual emotion he's experiencing because I don't think he'd recognize it. I think of this piece of writing advice every day of my life.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write from third person limited perspective and I really could have a more distinct voice for each character. I'm also a bit repetitive I know.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's something I struggle with especially when I write explicitly international characters. I very rarely write out non-English dialogue partially because I don't want to screw it up, and I go back and forth on italicizing non-English dialogue which I have some thoughts and feelings on that have been explained better by other people. I think especially with a Japanese speaking cast I've taken some notes from webcomics actually, but ultimately if the audience is meant to understand there's no reason to obscure it. In fact the only fic I have done another language for a fic is one where I had Seto speaking Vulcan, which is a made up language that I don't feel as strongly about screwing up.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Honestly... I think it might be YuGiOh. A long, long, long time ago I had friends posting script style fanfiction on DeviantArt and I joined in on the fun. The first fandoms I was really part of and writing fic for was Teen Titans and Avatar: the Last Airbender. Zutara and Raven/BB, in case it wasn't completely obvious.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Oh boy this is a tough one. Baby Dragon is a favorite of mine, as is In Awe of Flowers, but to be honest I think it might be Sons. It's not my most polished piece but I managed to make a fic out of the feelings I had around Grandpa and Joey that carries a lot of emotional weight for me.

To keep it going I'm gonna tag @kaijous @luxielovesparkles and whoever else wants to do it. i've been massively depressed lately but i'm crawling out of my hole and i think it's time to write again...

#fanfic #me! #idk what to tag this

[nomorefstogive]

For Lack of a Vision AU Idea

Word Count: Over 10K…let that sink in for a moment…our fingers hurt.

First,  I would like to apologize for the lengthy delay between this and my last post. I have been busy with both Elden Ring and my other projects on top of my work, and so I have not had as much time as I would like to write. That being said, rest assured I am still keeping up with the ideas point in case this new merry mess of one.

Hmm…under normal circumstances this is not the kind of idea I would indulge in while I am enjoying wholesome escapism ideas. However, this idea has rooted itself into my head and no matter what I do I cannot for the life of me dislodge it. Thus I have resolved myself to give life to this idea even if it is not what I would normally choose to indulge in. 

I suppose I should start this one off by saying that this one will be a fair bit darker than my previous ideas have been, and while it is not an impostor au, it will resemble one in some ways and contain some dark themes and topics that I feel I must caution you about, something which will be mirrored in a couple of other ideas that I will be posting once I have written them down. 

Honestly, this idea pushes many of my limits in regards to the Imposter AUs that I have promised to not write, and is also something I am not quite confident about overall given both just how long I made this and how dark it gets in certain parts. 

To give you a head up here are the-

Warnings: Dehumanization, Slavery, Descriptions of Death and Violence, Cult Behaviours, Religious Zealotry, Descriptions of Torture, Sadism and Cruelty.

This idea was somewhat inspired by my own take on how mortals would interpret a divine being without something allowing them to better understand just what it was that they were gazing upon, something that would give them the Vision to truly behold the divinity before them. I suppose that this idea can be considered something of a spin off of my Mother Knows Best idea and my Twin God idea, with them being taken in a somewhat darker direction. Also, as opposed to the reader having been the god of death for Teyvat it will be their twin who takes that role in this one.

Well then, I suppose it is time we start this mess of an idea, so without further ado let the curtain rise on this new idea of ours. Ah, before we begin we feel we should say that are going to be calling the Hydro Archon Minos, in homage to the Judge of Hell from Dante’s Inferno, and the Tsaritsa either Ipos or Lilith after either a demon of Ice and snow from the Ars Goetia or the first wife of Adam from Christianity.

Now then, what should we call this tale of ours…hmmm…ah! That one works quite well.

Let’s go with-

For Lack of a Vision 

What is vision?

When one boils it all down to the base meaning of the word it is simply the ability to perceive the world through sight and to use our imagination and wisdom to chart a path to the future that we wish to achieve.

But now we must ask ourselves, what is A Vision?

As opposed to the ability to perceive the world through sight, a vision is a gift bestowed upon mortals by the gods of the world of Teyvat. A blessing that heralds the potential of an individual to ascend into godhood themselves either by hard work and effort during their mortal life or upon their passing from the mortal coil.

Be it awarded by the grace of Archons who govern the mortal realm upon Teyvat, or by the decision of the Celestial beings who stand eternal guard as heralds and servants to the gods who stand above the gods of Teyavt and whose authority stretches across the entirety of the cosmos of the universe that Teyvat is but a pebble within. 

Yet despite marking a worthy soul for potential apotheosis, that is not the only purpose of the jewel-like objects known by mortals as Visions.

For their name gives way to the true purpose and reason behind which these objects were originally bestowed upon the mortals that called the masterpiece of the Shaper their home. 

For it was long ago, oh so long ago indeed, that the child of the Mother who wove the cosmos into being, who gave rise to nebulas and stars and galaxies vast and wondrous beyond all imagining and who so carefully shaped and wove the laws that would govern the universe into its fabric, came upon the desolate ball of clay that they would sculpt into their masterpiece.

It was so long ago that the Shaper would labor for eons as they slowly sculpted the world into something truly wondrous as they sculpted its lands and then seeded them with life. 

Of course it is well known that the shaper was not the only child of the Great Mother and it was with a cheer that made the cosmos revel in joy that the Shaper would take their twin by the hand and guide them across the world that they had made, gleefully showing them all that they had made as they frolicked amidst the plains and forests and mountains that they had so lovingly sculpted. 

For many years the two were alone in their frolicking, as their mother yet still labored to weave her order into the chaotic universe that she oversaw, yet still she kept an eye upon her children and occasionally came to join them when her labors had worn her down, and yet otherwise they were alone upon the planet that the Shaper had made so long ago.

Yet there came a day when the two could bear their loneliness no longer, and so they approached their mother and asked for her aid in making something that they could share their new home with. 

With a joyful smile the mother took her children into her arms and the three took to their new work. Gently guiding their hands to weave and infuse life beyond the towering arch-trees and great plants that enveloped the world in an endless sea of green.

For long did they labor and toil, carefully weaving each and every fiber of that which would come to call the world home with them. And so it was that after oh so many long eons of work that the first mortals would come into being upon the world of Teyvat.

At first they were simple creatures, beasts and fish and insects that held no great aspirations and dreams and instead reveled in their newly given life as they basked in their creators presences. Yet it would not be long after the first great beast of old laid its feets upon the soil of Teyvat and proclaimed to the world, nay to the cosmos themselves, its presence and glory, that something new would likewise begin to rise.

Be it by design or by pure sway of cosmic fortune the new being would be one of a species that lay spread across infinite universes, a race known for both their good and bad, for both their mercy and their cruelty, a race known as humanity.

The Shaper and their twin would marvel at this strange being for the ages that would pass as this simple and primitive being that would dwell amidst caves and crevices until such a day that they left behind the dark corners of the world and took to the light. 

Oh how the twins marveled at the being that now stood under the warmth of the sun and took in the world that the Shaper had so lovingly made. The Mother likewise smiled on as she held her children and likewise reveled in the joy of seeing the fruits of their long labors at last ripen. 

For ages they would watch over this being, the Shaper, ever kind and gentle, would craft for this being new plants and fruits that it may eat and new beasts that would walk beside it as kith and kin as the first humans began to explore the world that lay bare before them. 

As they watched and marveled at the strange being, there came a time when the Mother felt the call to return to her duties of ordering the chaos of the universe for she had not yet finished with the task when she had been approached by her children and so great was her love for them that even the whole of the universe paled before their pleading faces, and so she laid a gentle kiss to each of her children’s brows and bade them be well and safe as she left to finish her duties.

The Shaper and their twin bid their mother farewell with smiles on their faces as they knew that she would finish her duties soon enough and then they would not be parted again unless something that truly threatened the breadth of that which the Mother had labored over arose. 

For long would the twins watch over their creation until there came a day when the twin of the Shaper, they who would come to preside over that which would lay beyond the mortal coil and who come to be shepard and guide to souls of the fallen, would feel a stroke of inspiration as they beheld the being who no longer bore mere furs and leaves for clothing beginning to construct that which would be the basis for a new civilization. 

The Guide, for that is what the twin of the Shaper came to be known as, told of an idea that had come to them, something to help ease the fears and doubts of the mortal who now walked upon the world below them. For they would go and amidst realms unseen craft a land for those who had fallen to call their home till their spirits yearned to return to the world they had come from anew. 

And so with tearful smiles and a vow of reunion the Guide left to craft and order this new realm for the dead, and thus the Shaper was left to watch over and tend to their wondrous garden. 

For so long they would watch over the mortals that came to roam the breadth of the world that they had sculpted into its wondrous form, and for so long would they labor anew to make new wonders to call the world home alongside of the mortals, that they may not suffer loneliness in their wandering across the world. 

They crafted forth great beasts to rival those of the old, mighty reptilians who flew with great wings and other great and wondrous beings from simple slimes that happily bounced around to mighty plants who called forth the elements, and many other great and wondrous things. 

Yet these great and mighty beasts and wondrous creatures were not the most wondrous of things that the Shaper had called forth from the clay and bedrock of the world. For long did they watch over the world and long did they watch over the mortals that walked it, and over those long ages they had come to learn of the mortal propensity for bloodshed and war, wars that brought with them fire and blood that set alight the beauty of the garden that the Shaper had sowed so long ago. 

And so did the Shaper work to craft something that could aid them in keeping order and peace over the world that they loved so much. 

And so did they reach out their hands and take from the world clay and stone, and then did they shape it into a great and mighty island that was not bound to the earth below them, but rather to the heavens above the world. 

Lo did they work long and hard as they shaped the gleaming white stone into great towers and halls and mighty walls. Into the stone did they weave jewels and metals taken from the depths of the earth, and great and wondrous plants and animals that both walked the world in this age and who had long passed from the world into their siblings realm were bade to walk upon the emerald plains and swim in the great lakes and seas they forged upon the floating island. 

Once at last they were content with their great work did they bestow unto it the name that their mother had taken so long ago as her own in, honor of her and all of her own wonder and all that she had done for them and the cosmos around them. 

Thus Celestia was born.

And when the name was given, did the Shaper reach out their hand and let drip from their skin a lone drop of their ichor unto the stone of the realm and from the lone drop did they bid rise 2 great and terrible beings whom were twins in honor of the bond the Shaper shared with their own kin, and unto them was given authority over the newly born realm and over the forces of destiny and time so that they may aid in keeping order of the world below them. 

And unto these great and mighty and terrible beings were given the names of Paimon of Time, and Asmoday of Destiny and their charge was to watch over the world, but they would not do it alone. 

For as they had labored over their new allies did the world ignite anew with war and wrath, and yet it was not between the mortals that walked it, but rather between the great and terrible beings who had been made so long ago to walk alongside of the mortals and to share in their revelry and joy of the Shaper’s creation. 

This great and terrible war, brought forth by the differing views and desires of those mighty beings who sought to best serve the most holy would lay low many and much, as those who sought power for the sake of power and tyranny clashed with those who sought power to rule with order and care.

And though the Shaper did weep over the death and destruction wrought by the hands of all those who partook in the mad orgy of blood and violence, did they not have the strength to raise their hands, for those that fought were all their children and they could not bring themself to harm them even as they fought and slew one another.

 Yet from war did a result that the Shaper had not expected occur, for from the mire of battle and blood did arise the greatest and mightiest of all of those who had come to walk amongst the world and who were seen as gods by mortals, and unto each of their broken nations did they bring order and stability anew as they worked tirelessly to mend the wounds they had inflicted in their war.

And so unto these great and mighty beings did the Shaper appear and as they beheld the most divine did they fall upon their knees and bow, and yet the Shaper reached out and to their feet pulled them as they held them fast to their body in an embrace. 

For they were their children and long had they suffered as the Shaper worked upon Celestia and they would not see them kneel before them but rather stand beside them for though many had they slain and much had they destroyed, they had yet brought order and peace and unity to broken peoples and nations such that the world had never seen.

And so did the Shaper offer unto them a reward for both ending the war and for ordering their lands as they had done so.

First did these great beings try and deny the offer of the most high, for they claimed that to bask in their presence and touch was reward enough or them and yet the Shaper would hear not of it, and so the mighty ones did ask for means to better serve the divine and to watch over their lands and the means to allow for those who had served with them the right to likewise receive a blessing from the most high. 

And so great was the Shaper’s joy that they did embrace them again and then bestow unto each of them great and terrible power, both complete authority of the elements of the world and great and terrible powers far beyond what they had once possessed such that they could be considered true minor gods. 

And then did they bestow unto these mighty warriors the title of Archon, and dominion over their lands was likewise given unto them, and with these boons given did the Shaper bid them gather their great comrades that they may bestow their gift upon them. 

And so did the Archons gather those who were mortal and immortal and those who were neither and then did they avert their gazes and cover their eyes as they beheld the divine, and this puzzled the Shaper and so they asked of their children why did they avert their gazes?

And it was so that one of them did step forward and speak to the Divine one and say that to them they appeared not as the statues and shrines had shown but as something that their eyes could not quite make out, something that made their heads ache and trails of blood begin to leak from their eyes and nose. 

And oh how the Divine one was horrified, for they begged forgiveness for their unknowing fault as they tried to recall anything their mother had mentioned regarding mortals witnessing the divine, and as they thought and ignored the cries that it was not their fault and was their own failings as mortals that they did not have the vision nece-

And it was at that moment that an idea struck the Shaper.

And so they reached out their hands and called forth wisps of elemental power and pieces of the precious jade that could so easily contain so much of the wondrous power of the world and into each sliver of it did they imbue this great power and then they shaped it further still until they held aloft gleaming gems of elemental might. While the splendor and wonder of the gems they held in their hands would have been plenty enough of a reward for many it was but the base for the true reward they aimed to create.

And unto each of these gems did they bequeath a single drop of their blood, so that they were bound unto them and that those who held close them would be able to see them as they truly were and then and only then did they bestow unto those before them their gifts.

With shaking hands did the first of the group reach out their hand and take hold the gleaming jewel and as it glowed brighter still for but a moment before it dimmed did they lift up their head to look upon the Shaper and they did fall upon their knees with tears of joy leaking from their eyes as they beheld the true face of the divine with awe and splendor. 

And so a new era did begin, and the Shaper was pleased. 

For many an age would this new era last, as the Shaper aided in establishing bonds between Celestia and the Archons, such that they could work together in their shared goal of keeping the planet ordered. 

It was during this time that the twin goddesses of Celestia did approach the Shaper and speak to them of an idea, an idea which prompted for them to call out for their sibling and bid them offer counsel upon it before they delivered their own judgment. 

And so did the sibling speak after embracing in reunion and then put to work their minds regarding the idea that had been laid before them by Paimon and Asmoday.

To give out what those who had been given them called “Visions” to the worthiest of mortal souls, and to then, upon their passing, offer unto them a place within the heavens as agents to carry out the will of the divine. Be it as sword and shield or as scholar and healer, they would stand as a legion amidst the heavens to meet out judgment when needed and to enforce order over the world below them. 

And for many a long while did the twins ponder and wonder over the idea until at last a consensus was reached betwixt them.

It was agreed that in order to prevent any difficulties occurring with the Guide’s lands, they would allow for only those who met certain criteria to be awarded a vision, and even then they would be given the offer of rest or service upon their passing and not be forced into either. 

As for how the people would be judged for their worth for receiving a Vision, the Shaper felt that those who had lead them and who now ruled them would be far better suited to such a task than one who merely cultivated and shaped, for the Shaper knew well that while they did love their children their love would oft blind them to their flaws until events such as what lead to the creation of Celestia arose, for though eons had passed they were yet an innocent soul much like that of a child. 

So did the Shaper summon forth the 7 Archons and bestowed unto each the power to grant Visions to those who they deemed worthy of them with criteria of their own devising, and then did they bid them return to their homes with parting embraces and promises of future visits that left the 7 awestruck by their graces kindness for deeming those so far below them worthy of such honors. 

And so the wheels would turn and turn, and across the world change began. Visions were granted and progress marched on, and all was well…until it was not. For the Shaper had labored long and hard over the world, and now they felt their weariness grow upon them, and as such they bid unto their followers that they would soon sleep and when they awoke they would make merry again. 

And though it grieved their hearts that the most high would be gone asleep, they drew comfort in the knowledge that they would yet be near them even then and that one day they would return and all would be well anew. 

And so the Shaper laid down within the halls of Celestia and closed their eyes, dreaming of what wonders the future may hold. 

Yet as they dreamt did the wheel ever continue to turn and this next turn was an ill one indeed.

For as they slumbered did a new nation rise, one not allied to any of the 7 or to the heavenly principles above, but rather to themselves and to their own progress. A nation that venerated the night sky and that sought to one day reach out and touch upon those ever distant lights, the nation of Khaenri'ah.

And it was that the 7 watched them closely with the heavens scrutiny ever upon them, for they lacked an Archon that could restrain their ambitions of violence and war should ever they arise in arms and the bear alight torches lit with the flames of war. 

And so did many an Archon try and reason with them, and sway them to accept their guidance and aid, such that their great nation may be given the means to truly behold the divine and serve in ordering the world of which they would play a great role and as such claim great rewards. 

Yet nay did the people of Khaenri'ah say, for they claimed that if their minds grew enough and their spirits did likewise grow, then without the need of external aid would they be fit to gaze upon the divine in their true form and thus prove that the Duivine need labor no longer and could instead revel amidst their garden in safe joy.

And while the Archons and Twins did feel that their words did betray pride and arrogance, did they respect their goal and applaud them for the conviction that they did hold in their ideals. Yes still they worried, for these people were but mortals and surely a mortal no matter how mighty they might be could ever hope to gaze upon the wondrous awe of the divine's true form with their own bare eyes. 

Indeed their doubts were many more as well, for the people of Khaenri'ah were mortals, and the mind of mortals were known well unto the Immortal and Divine who had presided over them for oh so long, and they knew well that the hearts and minds of mortals could oh so easily sway towards violent means and ends. 

And Thus was it agreed upon that they would be watched and watched well for even as small and fledgling as they were, and as noble and pure as their goals were, did they yet bear great power and the potential for even great might to yet be theirs, might and power such that what the Shaper had worked so hard to order could well be undone anew.

For many an age were they let grow as the Shaper slept and dreamt, until there came a day when the Shaper was roused from their slumber, for their dreams had been disturbed by the gentle voice of their mother calling out to them, telling them that soon her work would be done and soon would they be together anew, and that she came both with two who had been made to be her aides and companions to ease her own loneliness and with news that the Guide was soon to finish with their own ordering of the planes beyond life and that soon they would be together again.

And oh how the Shaper rejoiced! For such things did they know their mother could tell them and show them, such wonders and sights that lay within the cosmos and beyond the fragile realm they had cultivated. Perhaps their mother would recreate some of them to show them? Or perhaps they could gather their yet working kin and travel to see them in person? And oh how the idea of meeting those who had journeyed with their mother made them smile with joy, for any who would aid their mother were kin and friend to them. 

And their heart did sing at the thought of their twin who had labored for oh so long to make lands where those who had lived so long and born such great burdens to rest and cast aside their burdens in joy. Oh how they had missed their wisdom and guidance and oh how they longed to have their counsel without the guilt of taking them from their responsibilities.

And soon all of these and more would come true!

Thus did the Shaper awaken and set about ensuring that their home was ready and that all was ordered so that they may enjoy the world and all of the beauties and wonders that the Shaper had prepared for them with no fear of flame and blood igniting anew in conflict and despoiling their garden. 

At first did the Shaper visit with the twins and the host which had come together under their shared banner within Celestia, great scholars and warriors alike who fell upon their knees and at the sight of the most high who soon bid them rise with a flush of embarrassment upon their face.

And long did they stay with the two who they had made so long ago and listen to their tales of how the world had changed amidst their dream filled reverie, and bask in the presence of both the two who had been their friends for oh so long and all of those who had vowed themselves to their service, a thought which made them flush in embarrassment and yet tearful in joy at the same time. 

And spoon thereafter did they call forth the 7 and there was much joy and revelry as they traded their tales of the world and of kith and kin and how so much had changed and yet so much had likewise stayed the same with the Shaper who did in turn tell them of the coming of the Mother and the Guide, news which brought all those who had gathered upon the great island to weep with great joy and spurred forth further revelry.

  And though long and of many joyful topics they did speak as they reveled, inevitably the revels ended and their conversations came to be swayed and shifted unto the matter in regards to the nation that did lay below them upon the world and of just what should be done in regards to it before the Mother and the Guide arrived. 

The Shaper was first worried, for these people bore not Archon to guide them, and had mastered such strange and wondrous things that even the Shaper had not seen in their long life and they feared yet that though they did appear to be civil and just, they would yet fall prey to that most cardinal of flaws of mortals and let their greed swell and set alight their garden once more.

And thus did the Shaper linger and ponder over this problem for many a day, until at last there came a moment when they did hear from the city that which they had not expected. For there from the godless nation did rise a prayer, devoted not unto the 7 Archons or to the Twins or any of the myriad who did dwell upon Celestia but rather a prayer that was directed unto them. 

And they listened and and they heard the words spoken by the people of the nation below them and they did hear what their hearts did sing out for and what their souls did seek, what all of their great and mighty powers had been bent unto achieving.

To gaze upon the face of the Divine as mortals, free of the need for external tampering so that they may stand as proof that the direct interference of the gods was no longer needed and that they may pass unto the ages and let the divine rest knowing that their garden is in safe hands. 

And oh how the Shaper was moved by their prayers, for such noble thoughts they had and such pure goals, and yet there yet lingered within them a seed of doubt that did swell and grow upon the waters of their fears. For now they knew well that no mortal could lay bare eyes upon the divine and not have their mind rent asunder as those great and mighty souls of old almost had theirs torn apart before they averted their gazes. 

And so did they study these strange mortals and the curious powers they bore, and as they did they took great time and care to test and experiment with the powers of the natives of Khaenri'ah and as they did so they came unto a conclusion. 

For these powers were drawn from the cosmos themselves, the stars which where their mothers fiefdom and as such was it not possible that they may yet be able to gaze upon them in their full form and thus did they take well a risk for they spoke unto their children and bade them come with them for they would descend upon this nation themselves and test them. 

For if they had grown to such heights that they may gaze upon the face of their god and behold it in its truest of forms, then they would be as friend and kin to the Shaper and they would make revel and merry till the Mother came and then all would be well anew.

And so, with but innocent and pure intentions did the Shaper did take unto them a mortal form and descend unto the nation that did lay sprawled below them. 

And when they appeared did many draw forth their weapons and demand of them why they had come, and unto them did the Shaper speak in a voice of starlit winds, that they had come as they had been called and thus many of the people demanded of them what it was that they meant.

And lo did the people cast aspersions and hurl stones and glares unto the childlike being before them for how could something so small and innocent be the great and almighty Shaper of their world.

And thus did the Shaper speak to them of the need for the means to conceal their true form lest mortal minds be rent asunder, and lo did they cry for peace even as their first acolytes did gather their power and blades to hew down those who dared speak ill of their great god afore their own eyes. 

Thus did one of the people of the nation step forward and speak unto the divine one and bade them show them their true form and let them see and judge for themselves if they were what they claimed to be.

And as the acolytes did cry out and admonish them for their hubris with their powers beginning to swell, did the Great shaper hold up their hand and bid them wait and thus did the Shaper speak unto them that indeed they would take their true form for they held hope that those who had reached unto their mothers domain could see them for who they truly were.

And thus did the Shaper take their true form and lo did many fall upon their knees with tears of joy of the purest kind streaming from their eyes, and they were bid rise and the Shaper did embrace them as friend and kin. Yet others could but squint their eyes and focus as they beheld but the most minute glimpse of the true face of the divine and even with but such a simple glimpse did they fall upon their knees in rapturous glee. 

And the Shaper did smile and open their arms to them as well, for though not at the same stage as some of their new and yet already dear friends had they yet reached a point where they could yet glimpse their true face and thus they were likewise embraced as friends. 

And then did the 7 lower their guards and the twins breath great sighs of relief as they saw that perhaps their fears had been for not, and that they may yet have been greatly mistaken in their handling of the situation with these mortals. 

And just as they did lower their weapons, and just as their heads lifted and gazed to the skies as they felt well the coming presence of the other two Great Ones and twin presences that though great and mighty were not of the same caliber as the two, did calamity strike. 

For the Shaper did look upon another one of the kin of  Khaenri'ah and open their arms to embrace them, but for the glint of steel to tear through their skin, ichor beginning to pour from the wound as they lifted their head in stunned shock to see the maddened and frenzied eyes of the one who before them stood, one whose mind could not and would not accept what it saw and whose spirit had not yet grown enough to behold the divine...one who was but one of many.

For then there came upon them blade and arrow and spell, and then did the city alight anew with those horrid flames as the 7 roared out in rage and grief and the Twins did draw forth their power and descend as the sky began to burn in wrath.

And as those who were yet loyal took the limp body of their god and tried their best to mend their wounds, did the Shaper yet ask with tears streaming from their eyes as they looked at the nation around them.

“Why? Why oh great people of this great nation? Was not to see me thy wish? Was not to behold my visage they desire? Oh why is it that so many of you can see me and yet so many more cannot? Why...why...we could have been...as kin...” Their words began to trail off as they began to cough up great plumes of ichor, for though divine they may be, the form they had taken to descend was mortal in nature, and thus were they yet bound unto the law of mortality but not as we may be, for though their body may die their soul may never and would instead slumber till it regained itself and was ready to return.  

And yet did this offer to the 7 and the Twins and the yet faithful of the city that now lay ablaze around them no comfort, for their hearts rent and tore as their gods eyes began to close even as from on high there came a great and might scream that did shake the earth and did make the mountains fall and the seas swirl and churn and the skies part unto the void of the Mother’s domain. 

The last words that did leave the Shaper’s lips as they passed unto a deep slumbering death and felt upon them the hands of their sibling and mother holding them tight were-

“...Ma…ma…please…pl…please…don’t kill…those…who…saw…me…it is..not…their…fault” And lo did the Shaper fade into the deep sleep of death and the Mother and Guide did wail their grief anew as the nation around them lay in ruins.

And yet as her rage did grow and swell in frigid malice, even as her heart did break and shatter, did the Mother grant her child’s wish, for not all of the nation of Khaenri'ah would fall that day. 

For those, who had seen the face of her child and had yet offered aid to them as they lay dying did the Mother spare from death and yet did she speak unto them that they would now walk the world eternally, for the blood of her child had into their skin seeped, and as her child had bid her she would not grant them death. 

She spoke that none may slay them, and that they would be let live and live with the guilt of failing to save her child as their punishment, until such a day as they were forgiven by the Shaper themselves, and then would she judge them anew. 

And the Guide did give but silent agreement, for their voice had been stolen upon the winds of grief as they held fast the fading body of their sibling, desperately holding fast their soul so that amidst infinity they would not be lost. 

And for those who did see her child but partly, and yet did not raise their blades but who had still failed did she lay upon a curse even as she spared their lives. For they would never again walk under the light, but dwell in the darkness beneath, bound not by death but cursed to live as monstrous beings who would only be freed by the forgiveness and grace of their child.  And unto them did she bid for one of the twin stars to take reign and to shackle and bind them so that they would not run rampant and so the Star did nod and take reign as their prince and lead them below  the world to await their day of Judgment. 

And for the rest…did she but raise her hand, and bid the stars to fall upon them even as her remaining star did draw her blade and alongside of the 7 and the twins waded forth to stain the oceans a sanguine red.

Yet death would offer for them no reprieve, for their souls would be bound and anchored to realms beyond where those who dared affront her children would languish in misery and pain everlasting, till their self was lost and their souls wiped clean so that a new chance may be given for them to learn the error of their ways. 

And thus did the curtains of time fall upon Khaenri'ah and an age of splendor and abundant wonder did pass in tragedy and grief for all of the world now mourned.

The winds bore no joy, but a melancholic longing for what could have been. For Freedom meant little when those one wished most, were not there to savor it with them. And though the Lyre was strummed and songs were sung, gone was their joy and melancholy did instead hold court over them.

The mountains shook anew until sorrow bid them stop and the earth froze in horror and guilt. And the Earth did form a new Contract to tend to the dead and embrace them as it longed to once more embrace one who was gone.

Lightning did roar and thunder did crash as the tears fell from on high as Transience gave way to desperate Eternity which sought to take the Visions of those they deemed unworthy as they sought to find a way to stand Eternally till the day they were reunited again.

Knowledge did burn in grief and from the ash did a Flower rise to gaze longingly to the sky. Wishing to hear the stories of old and ancient times from lips that would not speak for many an age.

Waves crashed as Justice wept, and tore forth its sight in penance for its blindness to a threat it could have never known, as it lost itself to the crashing echoes of dreams of a deep past and an embrace it longed to sink into like the deep Waters of the sea.

Wrath and rage did swell the Flames of War which burned and burned ever brighter still, to forge a crucible of War from which great guards would rise that history would never again repeat itself. And so did War turn upon themself and into bloodshed did they descend to rise anew as a worthy guard.

And Love did fade for the one that it held most dear was gone, and in its place grew Grief and longing to repay the debt of love once so freely given, love which warmed a land now frozen in Ice as it’s ruler now wished they could have frozen those precious moments when they were together and whole. 

And for long would this endure, until such a day as with their power recovered did the Shaper wake from their sleep of Death to a world much changed, a star in mortal flesh greeting them with a smile upon their face and tears within their eyes as they held them close. 

And the Shaper and the Star did take to the abse earth, for the great one’s power was faded and they did not yet have the strength to ascend unto the cosmos anew and to rise unto Celestia above to seek their Mother and Sibling, whose wrath and grief was so great, that once spent it did lay upon them great weariness and depression and they did slip into dream and slumber till their blood did afore them stand again.

Thus did the Star seek to restore unto the Great One their power by journeying forth unto the 7 lands and collecting the vessels of great power they had been given upon their anointment as Archons many ages ago, a task they shared with emissaries of a frozen land. 

And lo did they travel far and and wide, across the whole of the breadth of the world did they go, and much joy and merriment there was for those whose Vision did let them see what truly was by the Traveler’s side for they knew that their god had come back unto them and that a new age could dawn. 

And how carefree and joyful they were, for long had it been since the Shaper did fall into the sleep of death and long had the 7 and the 2 had time to mend and fix their errors and mistakes in how they had allowed for the world to perceive their Shaper.

For across the lands lay many a statue of their Shaper, both in the form they truly bore and in the form they appeared to those who lacked the vision to truly behold them in, and long and hrd di preachers and clerics and scholars speak and elucidate on the flaw of mortals to not truly see the divine and of how they should not let what mortal eyes and senses told them to lead them astray, and bid them not repeat the errors of the past. Though the Shaper did find the Statues to be somewhat too flattering at times and did oft bow their heads to hide their flattery at what their acolytes did think of them.

And so did many force their bleeding eyes to gaze upon the divine and through the tears of blood and pain were they granted a reward for their great faith and trust in that the mighty one did lay upon them their hand and mend their torn minds and organs and they were given but a moment to behold the truest of the Divine’s forms and upon its sight did they weep not blood but tears of joy and rapture. 

And yet all was not well, for many were there whose faith was fairweather and whose loyalty was thin as a sheet of parchment, and many more did see not the divine and holy but something demonic and abhorrent when they did upon the Shaper gaze and their heresy they did spread across the lands as cancer and plague.

For how could this being be the great Shaper of old? How could this being, whose form did make their eyes bleed, and whose voice did make their ears bleed, and whose presence did drive the monsters and beasts of the world out of their caves and pits to follow them as loyal dogs be the one who would usher them into abundance and prosperity?

Nay did they think, nay did they say, for this could not be the most holy. Surely this being could not be that which came from on high to guide them forth in prosperity. 

‘Perhaps it is a demon of some kind’, mused some of them, for surely with the Great Mother and Guide asleep and their Archons wracked with grief and guilt of the past, surely this was but an outside threat that had seeped into their world and manipulated them so that it might corrupt them to its service. For did their eyes not see horns and wings? And did they not see the way it stopped outside of holy places and lowered its head in shame and fear? 

‘It must have them enspelled,’ was the thought that ran through the heretics minds and ‘We must free them,” was the rallying cry that would lead to a tragedy whose scope and scale would echo throughout the cosmos for eons to come. 

For there would yet come a day when the Great Shaper and their acolytes were approaching the great cathedral of Mondstadt, certain of their safety and security amidst the faithful who had gathered their to celebrate the day that their great one would once more rise to the heavens and wake the Mother and Guide to usher forth a new age, that a great heresy would commit the most cardinal of sins. 

For there came forth great commotion across the breadth of Teyvat, for the heretics dared not to allow for what they perceived as a demon to rise to the heavens and dare stand before the divine and corrupt them to their side, and as such did they rise in open rebellion. And fierce battle did erupt within the City of Freedom in particular, where faithless did hurls flaming bottles and blades and stones upon the Shaper as they charged to meet the noble acolytes in battle. The mighty 7 did surge forth to meet the faithless, who had taken upon themselves stolen powers and artifacts to meet them in battle, as the noble acolytes did clash with those they had thought of as kith and kin but a moment ago. 

And across all of Teyvat did kin upon kin turn as their nations ignited in war once more, with great warriors of the faith wading forth to meet the faithless in battles that did leave great rivers and lakes of blood spreading across the once gleaming cities and verdant plains. The beasts of the world and the spawn of the abyss did rise to meet the faithless alongside of the faithful, with ancient wars and feuds being cast aside for the sake of their noble goal of protecting the faith. 

And long did this battle last until there came a great and mighty scream that did rend the heavens and shake the earth as all did fall to their knees in despair and terror as across the world did travel and great and mighty wave that did instill in them grief and despair immeasurable as the light of the sky did dim and the world did rage with great storms forming amidst an eye blink and mighty mountains falling as the world raged in despair.

For within the city of Mondstadt, upon the very steps that lead to their sacred cathedral, did a faithless slip forth from the shadows and imaple the most holy with a spear and a luciferian smile upon their face as the city fell silent. 

First did the faithless think they had at last achieved a noble and holy goal of felling a demon that did dare manipulate the servants of the divine, only to soon realize the truth of their actions when there did fall upon the ground an ichor that gleamed with jewel like stars and nebulae amidst radiant cold and onyx black and lustrous silver, from the horrid wound. 

And lo did the spear fall from the hands of the faithless as great cries of grief and rage came from the 7 and those whose Visions did yet gleam as they tore through the faithless who had begun to fall upon their knees with mad pleas beginning to spill from their lips. 

And lo did the acolytes gather round their fallen lord and pour forth all of their efforts to mend and heal them, only for it to fail as the great Shaper did begin to fade into a sleep of death which would bare them away from Teyvat, for their sibling was not there to hold fast their soul and bins it to them and their faithful and to the very world so they would not be lost amidst infinite realms as they were reborn.

And did the Shaper reach out their hands and into the hands of their loyals Stars did they bequeath the great vessels of power, and speak unto them to rise into the heavens anew and to wake their mother and sibling that they could watch over the world, even as their faithful did tell them that they would be well with tears streaming from their eyes. 

And then did the Shaper speak aloud their last words as they did fade into the infinite branches of Creation, to be reborn anew somewhere amidst them. 

“I…I’m sorry…I can’t stay…please know…I love you all…please let my kin know…I love them too…I am sorry…so…sorry that I…have…to…to…go…I…love…you…all…” 

And then did the Shaper fall still as a great pulse did travel from their body and across the whole of the world.

And did great stillness and silence descend upon the world as the twin stars did ascend unto the heavens with a beam of brilliant light, the body of their beloved held tight between them as they did so.

And from the heavens did their come forth great cries and wails of grief and pain that did resound across the whole of the cosmos and make all of those that did hear them fall to their knees in pain and grief for they knew well what the sounds did mean. 

And from the heavens did they descend anew unto the world with wrath and fury and grief and despair fueling them anew as they parted the skies unto the void and called forth all of the great hosts that had amassed, from the faithful who had risen to serve the divine to the honored dead who held their faith firm did they come forth as a tide of wrath. 

And where there should have been a day of great rejoicing and plenty as the dead were let walk the world anew to be with their kin and their maker, was there not but tears and wrath as the divine did visit upon the faithless great and terrible vengeance.

For did the Mother call forth her power and lay upon the very blood of the faithless and their kith and kin who had not stood beside her child her fury.

And her fury did form as a curse such that the sun would never again shine upon them and the world would ever be dark afore their eyes and what they could see would be but corpses and rotting foul things, and that the winds would but bear the stench of blood and smoke and the foul stench of decay and rot, and that all foodstuffs and water would taste as but blood and ash and rotting meat and bile, and then did she curse them to ever feel blood upon their skin and for all sounds to be as thunder and fury within their ears as all pleasure was stripped from them and instead was endless pain laid upon them. 

And then did she place upon them great and terrible shackles that did bind them to the faithful and loyal, for she knew well many ways to call forth her child from whatever distant corner of Creation they had been cast, and knew well that she would need fuel for her spells and rites and she would need many hands and many many bodies to form the base stone of a world fit for her child. 

Fuel and bodies that the faithless would bever be, for though they had failed to save the life of her child, did they yet stand beside them with zeal and loyalty against even their own kith and kin, and they did suffer and bleed as they fought to save her child from the designs of their mad kith and kin. 

And so unto them she gave authority over the faithless who were bound unto them, and did reach out her arms and embrace them as kin to her and her children and did raise them to serve amidst the heavens, for no longer would she let the mortals run without her personal gaze, for now they would be under her ever watchful eyes. 

And lo did those who had fought for the faith rise forth as angels and gods anew and their names were forever etched into the annals of greatness.

Albedo, God of Alchemy

Amber, Goddess of the Hunt 

Arataki Itto, God of Challenges

Barbara, One of the three Goddess of Song and the Goddess of Healing

Beidou, Goddess of the Seas

Bennet, God of Fortune

Chongyun, God of Exorcism

Dainsleaf, God of Survival

Diluc, God of Judgment

Diona, Goddess of Drink

Eula, Goddess of Vengeance

Fischl, Goddess of Fantasy

Ganyu, Goddess of Labor

Gorou, God of Strategy

Hu Tao, Goddess of Funerals

Jean, Goddess of Duty

Kaedehara Kazuha, God of Poetry

Kaeya, God of Allure

Kamisato Ayaka, Goddess of Ceremony

Kamisato Ayato, God of Ceremony

Keqing, Goddess of Potential

Klee, Goddess of Explosions

Kujou Sara, Goddess of Loyalty

Kuki Shinobu, Goddess of Subterfuge

Lisa, Goddess of Knowledge

Mona, Goddess of Scrying

Ningguang, Goddess of Wealth

Noelle, Goddess of Devotion

Qiqi, Goddess of Medicine

Razor, God of Beasts

Rosaria, Goddess of Shadows

Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter, Goddess of Wrath

Sangonomiya Kokomi, Goddess of the Depths

Sayu, Goddess of Slumber

Shenhe, Goddess of Calamity

Sucrose, Goddess of Study 

Tartaglia, God of Battle

Thoma, God of Friends

Teppei, Great Angel of Growth

Xiangling, Goddess of Food

Xiao, God of Karma

Xingqiu, God of Blades

Xinyan, One of the three Goddesses of Song, and Goddess of Revelry

Yae Miko, Goddess of Kitsunes and of Cunning

Yanfei, Goddess of Laws

Yelan, Goddess of Risks

Yoimiya, Goddess of Joy

Yun Jin, One of the three Goddess of Song, and Goddess of the Theater

Lumine and Aether, God and Goddess of the Stars 

And as the last of the worthy did ascend in glorious apotheosis and were reunited with their loved ones who were returned unto them, did she speak unto the 7 to take reign over the faithless and bestow unto them their own punishments and to then bind them in labor to rebuild all that they had laid low greater than it was before as she and the Guide did work to bring home their missing kin.

And lo did the 7 stretch out their hands in wrath upon the faithless of their nations, and their punishments for their wickedness and heresy were great and terrible indeed. 

For did Barbatos of Mondstadt cast those who had taken their freedom for granted into the dirt and had their feet bound in shackles and they were made to dig forth tunnels and caves and to live as worms below the ground in darkness absolute, for their freedom and their right to it were both stricken from them. For as faithless worms they had lived and so would they so endure forevermore, miring in filth and waste below the earth never to again know the winds they coveted so.

And did Morax of Liyue turn his wrath upon the faithless of his land and bid them be bound in chains and shackles and to labor within mines and deep recesses of the earth to call forth gems and wealth to adorn the temple palaces of their Shaper and that upon their last breath they would be turned unto statues of metals and gems to be harvested by their own kith and kin and even in death would they feel the pain of the chisel and the pick as they were broke apart and made into offerings for the most holy. 

And did Baal and Beelzebub of Inazuma lay upon the faithless of their lands searing brands of lightning that would ever arc and crackle with their wrath as they did bid the faithless to serve forevermore to rebuild all ruins of the Eternal nation, from recent ages and ages long since past with the lightning serving as the foremans lash. And that they would be cursed with Transient lives that would be oh so short, and both man and women were cursed with Eternal pregnancies that their fleeting lives would not end their servitude till no longer were they needed to build and sculpt in honor of the most high. 

And did Minos of Fontaine cast upon her faithless people her wrath, for their crimes would ever be carved unto their skin and their eyes would be taken from them and their tongues cut, and each would have a single ear taken from them that they may yet hear the orders that they would follow till the end. For they would ever serve as base builders and crafters and thralls for those above them who would likewise work to make evr more wondrous inventions and works of art for the day the Shaper did return, and at the end of their worthless lives would they be bound with the weight of their sins and cast into the depths of the Waters of Fontaine to drown in their sins.

And did Kusanali of Sumeru lay upon the faithless of her people a curse such that ever would poisoned and barbed flowers grow from their bodies and that all knowledge would be forbade from being taught unto them and that they would be used to grow and well what was known and what could be known as subjects for test and research. And at the end of their lives would those who yet lived be buried to their head within the soil, and from them would grow great and wondrous plants and flowers that would serve to fill the gardens of the Shaper’s palace as they were plucked from their bodies, that would live from the nutrients of the soil and would feel every flower torn from them and every piece of bark that would be torn from the trees that some would become, and replanted in said gardens.

And did Murata of Natlan visit upon the faithless of her people blazing chains of fire that would ever sear and burn their flesh, and then did she bind them to serve as the builders of great fortresses and smiths of great weapons of war and machines of battle such that the Shaper would never again be unprotected. And when age or injury did make them unable to serve as builders and smiths would they be either bound to serve as subjects for their weapons to be tested upon, or would they be made to serve as servants for her great warriors. And when they did fall would their bodies be cast into forges that they may be made into weapons that would ever scream in pain and agony when they did strike upon something, or they may be ground into mortar to be used by their kith and kin to build greater fortresses and citadels to stand as shields for the faithful and their great Shaper.

And lo did Ipos, the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, cast upon the faithless of her people great shackles and collars of ice that would ever freeze to their skin and would strip from them all warmth and joy as they would serve as laborers for the faithful of her land to use so that they may focus on growing their army to greater strengths and height, such that never will their Shaper again have to fear their weakness leading them to fail in protecting them. And they would be made to live in caves and pens within the snow and ice, and no warmth and shelter was to be gifted unto them, and they would forever be made to serve as subjects for greater devices of war and new medicines to be tested upon. 

And they would be barred from walking upon their feet and would instead crawl upon all four of their limbs as the rodents and vermin of the world do, and they would have from them their names stripped and would instead be known as mere vermin themselves. And when their lives did end, would they be frozen in ice with some becoming great statues outside of their kin’s dens and hovels to ever remind them of their faithlessness, and other beings frozen into the flagstones of the homes of the faithful and her own palace, so that they may ever be reminded that the faithful stand above the faithless.

And they would labor to build a greater world so that when their Shaper did return, the would be awed by the majesty of the world that they had crafted for them and they would know that they would never again need fear for their safety for they would be ready for all eventualities and would have well the weapons and tools to defend their great one from all threats. 

And when the Mother and Guide did find their kin and bring them home, would they make revelry and joy for never again would they allow for their beloved Shaper to be taken from them-

By Lack of a Vision

Over 10K words and almost half a month of writing and we are finally done with an idea that we could have done in under 1k words.

 Oh boy do our fingers ache lol. 

We hope you enjoyed this darker take on our previous ideas, and that you don’t mind just how long we ended up making this one out to be in the end. 

As always, you are free to use this idea for your own works provided we are mentioned, an @ so that we can enjoy seeing what you have come up with would also be appreciated, and we hope to hear your thoughts and critiques on this idea of ours in the future.

 Honestly we are not that satisfied with how rushed the ending seems, and just how close to an Imposter AU it feels as we are not that fond of them. We do draw some comfort from the fact that we have made it to where it is not quite the reader who is the Shaper before their death, but rather their reincarnation who just so happens to be the target of a very protective mother.

We are also not that satisfied with how we tried to incorporate our original idea, that a Vision is needed for one to perceive the true form of the Shaper without suffering ill affects or perceiving them as something they are not i.e. a demon. 

Well regardless, we hope everyone has a great day and that you all stay safe. See you in the next post.

- Sincerely TheGreatestShow

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact cult au #genshin impact cult sagau #Au Idea for Sagau #genshin impact sagau #sagau cult au #genshin sagau cult au #SAGAU ideas #sagau idea #It has been months since I posted this and I just decided to add more tags #because why not #nomorefstogive has no more braincells to give #genshin impact

[conivolos]

pokes head in here. hello coni. pls throw your fics at me i want to read them. what are you most proud of. what are u working on right now. what do you want me to read. i want it all hand it over. (i am being genuine but also silly sjdfklsdj what are u writing i am so curious :eyes:)

adsjaksf hiya!!! :D

and yeah!! i do have a couple of wips i want to rant about kajfhkjah

the first ima shout about (it also might be my favorite but shhh) is a 3rd life renaissance faire au :D its currently treebark and dogwarts centric and is quite literally full of half formed sentences and contextless dialogue, but theres three pages of worldbuilding and plot and im really happy with it so far :D, rens the king of dogwarts (the kingdom the faires set in), and the dogwarts army are, well, the knights of dogwarts. and you know martyn's creeper prank? he makes goose noises instead cause its hilarious and it still scares the crap out of everyone but scott asjkjafh. and ima stop there i dont want to reveal any more cause spoilers askjfhas

another wip is post-canon joel's empires s2 finale!! he is regretting a lot of things and theres three more joels than usual. its likely going to be multichap and full of angst (if i can actually make angst without adding puns into it asjksajfh) with a happy (?) ending :D

a third im hyped about is a waterpark au of sorts, based off of ethos old turf war minigame, The RipZone!! its mostly mycelium resistance centric, purely because i have more of a grasp on writing them than the hep. im not quite sure where to plots going for this one, but i have just enough planned out to be insane about it askdjfaskjfh. theyre highschool ago and its set in australia, at the end of the year, so its the beginning of summer and schools just let out (prime waterpark time babayyy)

and the last is another limited life coral kids fic woooo!! the working title is 'whats your favorite constellation?' and i feel it captures the vibes im going for surprisingly well. its barely written and im hoping it wont be as long as the last lmao, im thinking only about 1k words, and it also wont be explicitly romantic. im playing off of the concept of giving each winner being assigned / associated with a symbol (sun, stars, moon, etc.), and the general fandom confusion on what to give to martyn. and wait i wrote a lil synopsis thing for this like two days ago hold on

'centred on scott and martyn, ties tower has just (or is being) constructed, scott's built them a base, the chaos of bread bridge hasnt quite begun. and, while laying on their beds under the sky, scott talks about the stars above them, lamenting about a past life. martyn and scott discuss the dilemma that is the death games. scott doesnt want to win again and they wonder if martyn's going to win this time. martyns not sure if he wants to (he does). they mostly talk about the stars though, and their favourite constellation. its supposed to be nice and calm, fairly reminiscent of the calm before a storm.'

i edited it a bit, but i reckon its still got the vibes down pretty good :D

oh and also, the fics im probably most proud so far are htgth, really the podcast au in general, and surface of the seas :D

i chose htgth / the podcast au quite a few reasons! theyre the first works i ever finished and published, and, excuse my ego /hj, but, im so happy with the way i got the bad boy's voices to fit really well!! i was (and still am honestly) shocked on how well i wrote them!! (also i really like htgth cause i set myself up some plot points im excited to build up on whenever i get back to writing it akhkfasjhf)

and surface of the seas, partly bc im just really proud of myself for writing that much ksfksajdfh. i think i mostly like it cause the little narrative comparisons and bits of lore just scattered around it :D also when i was almost finished, tying up the loose ends n stuff, it was at around 3-4k and the word count just kept going up its funny now but it was quite daunting when it was happening askfjhahfs.

oh and also maybe ive lost a piece of me, almost purely because of the puns :D

#asks #also hi sorry this took so long to answer #putting thoughts into words is Hard #anyways #this was a bunch of fun answer :D #also how do i tag this #coni wips #aerie beloved #bad boys podcast au #ascending!au #third life ren faire au

[freezethebeez]

Did you base the catalyst vampires off of other vampires in the media? Or, whats some catalyst universe specific vampire “quirks” or design choices? Lol sorry, got brain rot

the vampires in catalyst aren't really based off of any particular piece of media. they're sort of a strange amalgamation of every vampire au i've ever read, any tv shows or movies (aka twilight and first kill), plus my own little quirky details for the sake of plot.

any of the details i'm going to list below are catalyst specific according to me, but if anyone else has ever done them that's cool, i just didn't know.

vampires can go 2 years without drinking a drop of blood before they die of starvation, similar to how humans can go 2 weeks without food, just elongated to match a vampire's lifespan

most vampires feed once every month, which is less than twilight (i think) and most other vampire au's i've read, although i don't think many of them had specific hunger schedules. oh yeah it's also less than in the sims 4, if the vampire pack counts as vampire media lol

vampires aren't immortal. i gave them an age limit of 1000 because immortality is overrated anyway plus death is kinda nice sometimes. gives you a time limit. idk there was vsauce video about it that i watched once and haven't really stopped thinking about.

humans cannot be turned into vampires. if i were to implement that, though, the turning process would be drain all human blood, replace with a bit of vampire blood, yipee ur dead but also not, which just wasn't conventional and wouldn't be used in plot so i threw that whole concept out the window

vampires sleep during the day and wake up when the sun sets. i've read this in another vampire au, but am including it in this list anyway because twilight went "yeah vampires can chill during the day." however, if catalyst vampires could go out in the sun, i think all the sun would do is drain their energy and make them tired lol

for the first 40 years of a full vampire's life (20 for half-vamps), they can't fully see. i have another ask somewhere on here explaining how the process works, as well as other details.

fangs showing up only when needed isn't super original i don't think, but the whole warming of the skin when hungry thing is just a catalyst thing, i'm pretty sure.

also, like, vampires with eating disorders. i've never seen that anywhere else lol.

vampires being able to give birth (technically, minus all the issues that come with it) is also a catalyst thing i think??? idk i've only seen the first twilight movie so if vampire birth is in there.... whoops

vampires being entirely dead pretty much. no working organs, breathing isn't necessary, can't eat human food (unless the specific food holds essentially zero nutritional value), are also things i haven't seen in au's or media

vampires are just straight up a completely different species; they're not a subspecies of human. now, this would be a little weird for vampire-human... uh... breeding (i'm so sorry) but since vampires look so much like humans it's not really a big deal i guess

long story short i pretty much just went "what if we had humans and gave them fangs and a really long lifespan and then we gave one of them a shit ton of mental illness" and ran with that.

as for design choices, they're very similar to the typical vampire: pale skin, human-looking, fangs sometimes. eye colour doesn't really change if they're hungry, their pupils just get a little wider. skin tones can range from white as white can be to a dark grey, and eye colour can be anything, it just depends on the vampire and their genes, however the fuck genes work (i didn't take biology lol)

i've been meaning to write all this vampire lore out for a while, so i may be missing a few things in my list. catalyst (just like syzygy, another c!beeduo au of mine) was supposed to be a 2k one shot containing a silly little idea i had. instead, it bursted into this big, multi-chapter story, which isn't something i do often, so little things like specific details about the setting and all that other stuff aren't really thought out, because initially they really didn't need to be and i was too busy working out the plot to go back over and add those things. i'm a bit of a mess when it comes to writing longer pieces tbh.

now while catalyst may be my magnum opus, i am still– at my very core– just a silly little guy writing about minecraft men.

all the love and support has been insane, though, and i have appreciated it more than anything. it's the thing that keeps me going honestly. all the asks have helped me develop the world just a little bit more, and the insight i've been able to get, like how well my foreshadowing worked and how suspenseful i made each chapter, has helped tons as well.

the mere concept of people actively perceiving the things i put out onto the internet is crazy enough to me, so to have people thinking about my silly little fic and brainrotting about it makes me feel a little less silly (dw anon, i am also heavily brainrotting).

ty for the ask, and sorry for the essay of a response. the only vampire media i've consumed is twilight, first kill, and about 2 or 3 other fics, all from different fandoms (i'm not a big media consumer tbh), but i hope this suffices :]

#people asking me things #catalyst #i was writing a little bit of cbeeduo fluff (not catalyst related just a funny idea i got) when i got this ask #might write a little bit of chapter 10 today #i'm almost done this one scene i've been struggling with for a bit #one more scene after this one and then we're done ^_^ #then i can start chapter 11 #i think updates will slow down a bit once i start school again #my workload is gonna be lots and my motivation is going to be GONE #it's okay. i will cope. #hoping to get it done by january possibly. #if not then i'd say june at the latest #that would mean a full year of working on the same au oh god #idk if i can brainrot that long who knows #i'll push through tho dw i have lots of love in my heart for catalyst

[jaimebluesq]

New Year Fic Ask: 1, 8, 11 :)

1. Do you have a word-count goal for the upcoming year?

Not really, I don't usually pay much attention to word counts unless it's something particular, like an exchange with word limits.

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you’ve never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

I actually came up with an idea for a CQL/MDZS modern day au that I like enough to tweak it into an original fic. It follows a man living in rural Ontario who immigrated from China several years earlier... the TL:DR of it is that the MC is based off of Jin Zixun whose family had been Triad back in Shanghai, and when his cousin was killed in the middle of a gang war, was forced to reevaluate everything in his life. JGS thinks he's dead, and JZXun who had been an enforcer type in the Triad now feels he has a penance to pay and tries to honour his cousin's memory, even if he can't stand being decent toward those he thinks of as beneath him - but he genuinely is trying to be better though it may not always seem like it. And then one day someone from his past shows up in a local bar, someone who knows he's supposed to be dead... based off NHS of course. And yeah, it goes from there. I want to really develop a whole bunch of other townspeople characters not inspired by canon so that it's really fleshed out as a universe unto itself. So... yeah :)

11. Would you like to try any new fanfic genres or tropes this year?

I might want to explore poly ship dynamics a little more - have dabbled but there are so many variations to work with.

Also, an idea that's been niggling in my mind is ace!LXC - I don't write him much, maybe because some of his biggest canonical flaws are ones I share and it's not always fun to look in a mirror, but I think it might be worth getting to know him a bit more through writing.

Thank you!