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#but chapter eight and nine are planned and started and i hope to get them done within a reasonable time frame
daughterofhecata · 17 days
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the perfect part about it is: it's all that i've got
a.k.a the Dad!Skinny AU
Zehn Jahre nach seinem Abschluss kehrt Peter nach Rocky Beach zurück um seine Arbeit im neu enstandenen Jugendzentrum anzutreten. Und muss feststellen, dass sein neuer Kollege niemand anders ist als Skinny Norris.
In den Nebenrollen: Kelly, Dylan, Skinnys Tochter, Peters Patentochter, diverse OCs und canon Charaktere; Soziale Arbeit, Queerness, soziale Probleme und natürlich die Spannung, die entsteht, wenn man sich zehn Jahre nicht gesehen hat, einander immer noch nicht leiden kann... aber genau das lernen muss. Und dabei vielleicht ungeplant Gefühle entwickelt.
hier auf ao3 // hier auf ff.de
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cowgurrrl · 3 months
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Tall Boy
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: I didn't go into writing this thinking I would write a little bit of spice so please be nice (poetry fr)
Summary: Fireworks, Uber Calls, Confessions, Oh My! [3.6k]
Warnings: consumption of alcohol, drunken shenanigans, Joel and Tommy being the only Texan men I would trust with my drinks, so much goddamn yearning, oh what's happening with Andie and Tommy??, Joel the Menace makes his return, smutty thoughts and actions (I've made them wait nine chapters they deserve to be a little horny. as a Treat.), getting caught, preparing you for Sleeping on the Blacktop
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You don't get to cut loose very often as a teacher. You're almost always worried about lesson plans, grading, assignments, supplies, money (or lack thereof), politics, student's mental health, and a million other things that plague your mind when you try to sleep. Sure, you have a drink or two sometimes, but never anything close to like when you were in college and would end up back at your apartment at four in the morning just to get up three hours later for a lecture at eight. You weren't always going to be a high school teacher, and your past reflects that. And Andie has waited a long time to get a little bit of that spirit out of you again.
New Year's Eve starts easy enough with a nice dinner in downtown Austin with a glass of wine or two with the food. You and Andie got all dolled up in short, curve-hugging dresses and makeup and decided you would take yourselves out if nobody else was going to. "But we're not gonna get arrested like we did in high school, right?" You asked over dinner, but she just shrugged with a mischievous look in her eyes.
"We'll see where the night takes us." 
You bounced from bar to bar, sipping drinks and half-flirting with whoever approached, hoping for a free drink. Lucky for you, nobody is immune to Andie's charm. You lose track of how much you've had to drink once the room starts spinning pleasantly, and you can barely hear yourself over the loud music. You dance with beautiful strangers, sing along to the music, and even steal a cigarette from a willing accomplice outside. It feels good to act like your own age and not everybody's mom. 
By the time midnight rolls around for the Central Time Zone, you and Andie are drunk, leaning on each other and butchering the lyrics to Aud Lang Syne. "We should call an Uber!" Andie yells in your ear, and you nod. You stumble outside and squint at your phone, giggling at your fleeting thought.
"I've got a better idea than Uber."
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You and Andie are sitting on the curb outside a gas station right off of Sixth Street, sharing a tall boy and following instructions to "stay put," when his truck pulls up next to you. Joel looks sleepy but not mad, while Tommy looks like he just walked up on a small miracle.
"I thought teachers weren't supposed to be fun!" He laughs as you hand Andie the beer and somehow get yourself to your feet.
"You, obviously, didn't have the right teachers." 
"I reckon so." He says as you dig your keys out of your purse to hand to Joel. He nods gratefully as Tommy helps Andie off the curb. They start talking about something, but you can't hear them over the way Joel's looking at you. Like he did at the gallery, his eyes linger on every piece of exposed skin he hadn't seen before. Something akin to worry clouds his vision, but you catch him looking at your legs and smack his chest. 
"Eyes up here, Mr. Miller," you call him out. "See somethin' you like?" You ask, and he chuckles at how southern you sound when you drink.
"You look very nice." He says, and you smile. For some reason, you step into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He's so warm, and you're tired and just drunk enough not to care about the rules. You feel him freeze for a moment before his hand comes up to your waist to help keep you upright. "Let's get you home, hm?" 
Andie refuses to leave Tommy's side now that they've gotten into an argument about the best musician of all time, and she decides to ride in your car with him while you climb into the truck with Joel. The second you're alone in the car with him, you just start laughing to yourself. Joel laughs a little, too, as he turns the ignition over. 
"What's so funny?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Just you." You say, giggling a little more. 
"Me?" 
"Yeah, you."
"What about me?" 
"A few weeks ago, I thought I'd fucked you over, and now you're picking me up 'cause I got too drunk on New Year's Eve," it's not funny, but you laugh anyway. "You're a much better person than I am." You say. It's quiet in the truck as your words settle like dust on the dashboard. The only sound is the engine running and the distant sounds of fireworks popping in nearby neighborhoods. He takes a deep breath and rests a hand on your headrest to reach around in the backseat, producing his large jacket and pulling it over your body to protect you from the cold.
"I think you're a good person. Definitely a world better than me," he says as he puts the car in drive. "And, for what it's worth, you didn't fuck me over."
"No?" You ask, and he shakes his head, glancing at you as he pulls onto the road. 
"No." He says, and you hum. You pull his jacket closer to you and cling to the smell of pinewood, leather, and hints of his cologne. If they sold this smell in a candle, you would go into debt just to have it linger in every room. The thought presses on a bruise you forgot was there, and in your inebriated, vulnerable state, you can't stop yourself from staring at his profile as yellow streetlights and bursts of fireworks reflect across his face. 
You study him the way you've been dying to for months. Your eyes study how his eyebrows move with minute emotions and muscles. The way his big nose curves perfectly. The way his jaw clenches and unclenches when he's nervous or unsure what to say. You wish you had a piece of paper and a pencil to sketch his side profile as it comes into view between headlights. You don't believe in muses, but you believe in inspiration. Especially when you look at him.
"Thank you for comin' to get us. I know you'd rather be sleeping." You break the silence, and he nods. 
"I'd rather know you're safe than anythin' else," he says. "How much did you have to drink?"
"I don't know," you groan, absentmindedly rubbing at your face and no doubt smearing makeup. "People kept buying us drinks, and I'm so fucking broke, I'm not gonna say no to a free drink."
"People? What people?" He asks, his interest suddenly piqued. You shrug and put your feet up on the dash. He glances at them but doesn't shove them off. 
"I don't know. People. Men people." You say.
"Different men or the same guy?"
"Does it matter?"
"No," he says a little too quickly. "No, it doesn't matter. As long as you had fun." There's something off about his tone, but you can't place it. At least, not until he puts the final nail in his own coffin. "D'any of 'em try to get your number?" 
"Oh, my God!" You squeal excitedly as you sit up and put your feet back down. "Are you jealous?"
"No! Why would I be jealous? We're friends." 
"Yeah," you scoff. "'Friends.'" You say with intense finger quotes, and he furrows his brows as he looks at you. 
"Are we not friends?" 
"Joel, c'mon. I liked you from the second you walked into my classroom. We were never gonna be just friends." The confession comes loose before you can swallow it back down. It wiggles between you like a fish out of water, and you want to take it back. Not because it's not true but because you weren't ready to tell him. Things just got back to normal after the winter showcase. You're not ready to lose him again. 
"You're drunk," he says softly as if he's reminding himself more than anything. Maybe he thinks because you've been drinking, you don't mean it, but you do. You really, really do. It's too late to take it back, but you can try to bring levity back. You can try to backpedal a little. 
"You're drunk." You counter. He drives in silence for a few more miles, and the rumble of the car and the tequila weighing your mind down lull you to sleep— narrowly avoiding another hard conversation and worst-case scenarios.
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You wake up on the first day of the new year hungover, sore, and in a bedroom you don't recognize. Bright sunshine bursts into the room and forces your eyes open in a squint. You almost jump up when you're greeted with a bottle of water and Tylenol on a nightstand that's not the white one on the right side of your bed. You sit up a little and look around at the cozy, if not a little cluttered, room.
The walls and the soft sheets are a nice, comforting blue. A few posters and pictures hang on the walls, and even a landscape painting hangs above the bed. Still, there's a little laundry strewn on the floor, and you recognize the closet full of flannel and button-up shirts next to you. You guess that's where your oversized, burnt orange Texas Longhorns shirt and black sweatpants came from. Snippets from the car ride and stumbling into the house fill your mind, and you groan in embarrassment. 
You remember Tommy calling Joel and telling him Andie got sick on the way to your apartment, and he didn't want to drop you off alone where something could go wrong. They offered to take you to their house, and in your drunk and stupid state, you said yes. You remember gentle hands holding your face as a cold, wet makeup wipe swiped across your skin, and thank God for that. Otherwise, you would feel worse than you already do. You remember hearing Andie and Tommy's voices outside the bedroom door, but you don't remember how you got into the room or the shirt. A light knock on the door pulls you out of your memories, and Joel walks in with a cup of coffee and a sympathetic smile.
"Good mornin', sunshine," he says, the right amount of mocking. "How're you feelin'?"
"Like I got hit by a truck." You say, and he laughs as he hands you the mug and sits on the bed. 
"I figured. I've got breakfast goin' downstairs. You need all the food you can get to soak up the alcohol." He says as you take a sip of the bitter coffee. You sigh into the cup at the (somehow) magical effects it has on your body, and he smiles. "That good, huh?"
"Yes, thank you," you say. "Thanks for everything. I know it probably wasn't fun trying to wrangle us last night."
"You weren't lyin' when you said how much trouble you and Andie got into together." He says. You think you could crawl into a hole and die at the embarrassing gaps in your memory.
"Oh, God. What happened?"
"Well, first of all, she wouldn't stop talkin' to you bout Tommy even though he was right there, but it was all good things. Then, you almost fell asleep on the couch after demanding’ Whataburger, and I had to carry you up the stairs. And then, Andie locked us in here and told us to figure our shit out."
"I'm gonna fucking kill her." 
"I'm pretty sure she almost fell asleep in the hallway waitin' us out. Tommy parked her in Sarah's room and slept on the floor in case she needed somethin'." He says. You knew the Miller men were kind and selfless, but this is a whole new level. You owe them a fruit basket or your kidney or something. You rub your temples and take another sip of coffee before taking two Tylenol. 
"And where did you sleep?" 
"You don't remember?" He asks, chuckling. At least he's not mad. If he was, you think you'd climb out the window and walk all the way home. "I tried to sleep on the floor, but every time I tried to lay down, you laid down next to me. You wouldn't even close your eyes unless I was next to you, so I built a little pillow wall and slept in bed." 
"Are you serious?" You ask, and he nods. You can vaguely recall getting into a hushed argument with him about kicking him out of his own bed and falling asleep against his chest, vindicated and content. You groan and bury your head in your hands. "Please tell me Ellie isn't here."
"She spent the night at Dina's house, none the wiser." He says. You almost say something about Ellie spending a lot of time with Dina recently, but keep your mouth shut. If something's going on, you doubt she wants her teacher to snitch on her to her dad.
"I'm so, so, so sorry, Joel."
"Don't be sorry. It was funny. I didn't know teachers partied so hard," he says, and you laugh a little. "Besides, it made me feel better knowin' you two were safe." You look up as he speaks and take a deep breath at how sweet he is. He smiles, and you scoot close enough to him to cuddle into his side. He welcomes you by tucking you under his arm and resting his head on yours. 
Your head is pounding, and your stomach is in knots, but the coffee and his presence help ground you. His hair is a little damp and smells like Ellie's shampoo. The thought of them sharing products makes you smile, and you rest a hand on his chest. Worn in, soft fabric cushioning your fingers as they rest over his heart. 
"Can we add this to our list of inappropriate secrets?" You ask quietly, and a puff of air leaves his nose in a laugh. He lifts his head from yours and looks down at you fondly. He doesn't look particularly well-rested, and you're sure that's your fault, but you also can't get over how beautiful he looks in the morning. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his beard is a little unruly, and his shirt is crumpled, but the light streaming in makes his brown irises look amber and the grey in his hair silver. He's beautiful like this. He's beautiful all the time. 
"Course," he mumbles as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers on your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek, and your hand slides from his chest to his shoulder to keep him close. "D'you get a New Year's kiss, at least?" He asks. You purse your lips as you stretch your memory back.
"'M pretty sure I kissed Andie." 
"Nice." He says, too impressed, and you push at his shoulder. 
"What about you? You get a New Year's kiss?" You're walking the wrong side of the line, and you both know it. He smirks anyway.
"I was a little busy takin' care of these two drunks." 
"One time," you say. "I go out one time, and suddenly I'm a drunk." 
"That's all it takes." He shrugs, and you laugh.
"Apparently," you say. "Well, I'm sorry again. Didn't mean to ruin your chances of getting kissed." 
"Nah, you didn't."
"No?"
"No," he shakes his head as he leans in and kisses you, tilting your face up to him so he can control the angle. Two months. It's been two months since you last kissed Joel, and you can feel all sixty days of want in the searing kiss. He's not shy like he might've been in the past— waiting for you to make this first move— he's commanding and steals your breath out of your lungs when his tongue slides against yours. It's different, and so, so good. You wind your hand into his hair and lightly tug when his hands roam down your body and grab at your hips. You take the signal and throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, gasping when he presses into the small of your back and pushes you against him. 
Now, you're awake. Fuck the coffee.
You're dizzy when his mouth dips from your lips to your jaw, biting the sensitive skin there, and his hands wander below the fabric of your (his) shirt. His fingers are soft when they graze against your sides, skimming up your body until he squeezes your breasts. Both of you groan as you arch into his touch. He's barely touched you, and you're already soaked.
"Missed you." He whispers as his lips blaze a trail down your neck while his fingers lightly pinch your nipples. You grind your hips into his, desperately searching for friction, and he hisses like you hurt him. His hips canting up reassures you you didn't. "You gonna disappear on me again, sweetheart?" It doesn't come across as mean, but there's a new authority in his voice that you're not used to hearing. The dam isn't just broken. It's in fucking shambles at the bottom of the river. 
"'M not going anywhere." You breathe. "I promise." You think you mean it. You think you want to mean it. You think you're done caring about optics and what's "right." You want him, and based on the way the bulge in his sweatpants prods under you, he wants you too. He pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again, wraps an arm around your back, and lays you on your back on the mattress. 
You tug at the back of his shirt and greedily let your hands roam over his chest and back when he throws it across the room. He's all broad shoulders and strong arms, and you can finally feel the muscles and warm skin you've thought about since way before that night in the bar. When his fingers trace patterns into your inner thighs, you moan into him and grip his forearm hard. "Joel, I need-"
"What? What d'you need, baby? Tell me." He asks, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you want him. It'd be so easy for him to slip his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants and feel how desperate you are, but he hesitates. "C'mon, use your words."
"Fuck, I-" You start to say when the door creaks open.
"Joel, do you want— woah!" Tommy yells before you hear the door slam shut again and his feet rushing down the hallway, no doubt to tell Andie about what he just saw. Joel groans and buries his face in your neck, and it takes everything in you not to laugh. 
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him." 
"I'll help you hide the body." 
"Finally!" Andie yells from downstairs, and this time, you do laugh. 
"They're never gonna let us hear the end of this, are they?" You ask. 
"Probably not," he says. He's unmoving over you, and you sigh as you kiss his cheek. He lets his body weight drop into you, and you play with his hair while he rests his head on your chest. His hands rest under your body and press you closer to him, smothering you together. His broad shoulders expand and contract with every breath, and you count them as you scratch his scalp. "I have to go get Ellie soon." He mumbles into your chest. 
"Then, we should probably go." You say. He groans and kisses your sternum before pushing onto his forearms. He kisses up your chest to your neck, forcing a shaky breath from you when he nibbles at your earlobe. 
"I want you in my bed all the time," he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. "Wearin' my clothes, makin' all those pretty sounds, not havin' to worry bout Tommy or anybody." His chest rumbles against yours as he speaks; all you can do is squirm under him. His fingers picking up their previous patterns don't help either. "Wanna feel you come over and over again. On my fingers. On my tongue. On my cock. Wanna make you feel so good." His middle finger rubs against your clothed pussy, and your nails dig into his shoulder as you try to suppress a surprised sound. You're so wet, you'd be surprised if he couldn't feel the damp spot on your underwear. "You gonna let me make you feel good, baby? Huh?" He bumps your nose with his, subtly asking for attention when all you can focus on are the lazy circles he's drawing over you. 
"Please." You whimper, but you're not sure what you're begging for.
"I know, I know," he murmurs. You know you can't get away with anything with Tommy and Andie waiting for you downstairs but you want him to make good on his promise. You want him. You have for so long it's burning you from the inside out. And yet, he pulls away from you with a smirk. "I'm gonna take all the time in the world with you next time." He says as he rolls off of you, and you're left lying there, shocked and flushed.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, sitting up, and he just shrugs as he pulls his shirt over his head. 
"I've gotta go get Ellie."
"Don't pull the Dad Card right now." You sound a little petulant, but honestly, you don't care. He worked you up to just walk away? This is cruel and unusual punishment. He presses his knee into the mattress and leans over you again, kissing you chastely.
"You'll have to get me back later." He says, and you sigh, shaking your head at the amused look in his eyes.
"I'm gonna make you wish you were dead."
"I'll believe it when I see it."
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia
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pedroshotwifey · 2 months
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To The Flame chapter eight
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Series masterlist
Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x Fem!reader
Chapter w/c: 3k
Chapter tags/warnings: smutty smut, nasty dirty talk, slight angst, manipulation through isolation (hehe), piv sex, unprotected sex, stuff im forgetting
Chapter summary: Things were finally perfect; of course they never stay that way.
A/N: Hey babes! This chapter is really kind of setting things off, and I swear to you that we're going to get dark in the next few, and it's downhill from there. Just needed to get her in the perfect place first >:). This is yucky nasty, so I hope you heathens like it!!
****
You wake up alone for the first time in a week this morning, already missing your husband’s heat. 
It’s your second week living in your new house, but Javi was only able to take that one last off to help you get everything settled. He let you decorate for the most part, which was wonderful because you basically just ordered him around for muscle. 
He was so sweet and helpful the entire time, not giving you a single complaint at all. You want the couch to go against the opposite wall? He’s on it. Need that picture in the dining room hung higher? As good as done. 
You think there’s only a couple boxes left to unpack in the guest room, and then you’ll be done. It’s mostly small stuff, apart from a dresser that needs to be assembled, so you should be able to do it yourself before Javi gets home tonight. 
Mentally planning your day, you stretch and yawn before pulling the covers back and sliding from the bed. You decide as you get dressed that you’ll make a batch of muffins for breakfast, that way Javi will have something quick to grab when he leaves for work in the mornings.
You make your way to the kitchen, yawning again even though the clock shows it’s past nine. You can’t lie to yourself, it’s been nice having the entire day to do whatever you want, without having to worry about getting the bills paid. It was a little hard to transition into not working, but Javi takes such good care of you that it’s hard to stress about it. 
You keep waiting for the day where you feel the urge to find a job again, but it hasn’t happened yet, and you’re not eager to rush it. You really do think you can get used to this whole ‘staying at home’ thing. Especially now that you and Javi aren’t being particularly careful about sex anymore. You need to be prepared to stay home with your kids whenever that happens. 
You’re not rushing that either, if you’re being honest, but you wouldn’t be upset if you found yourself pregnant. It makes you smile, thinking of mini Javis running around your house, playing in the pastures or on a tire swing hung from the big tree out front. Javi would make such a good father too; he’s so thoughtful and attentive. 
You sigh as you start to mix ingredients for your muffins, turning on the radio beforehand to distract yourself. The last thing you need right now is baby fever, you’ve just taken a big life step already. 
You hum along and sway your hips to the soft music as you work, occupying your mind by trying to mentally plan how you’ll be decorating the guest room. A few moments later, you slip the tray into the oven and set the timer before heading back down the hall. 
The room is mostly put together; the last of the belongings mostly small decor or whatever didn’t fit somewhere else in the house. It was unspokenly decided between you and Javi that this room would hold the junk closet. 
You open the first box and find that it contains pictures. You don’t mean to snoop too much, but you can’t help but analyze each one. They’re mostly old family portraits, though a couple of them are just of dogs, which confuses you as much as it makes you laugh. 
You realize once again how strange your situation is as you pick out Javi’s siblings and parents. How is it that you’re married to a man whose family you’ve never met? The only relative you’ve heard him talk about before is his dad. You wouldn’t want to pry though if it was a sensitive topic, so you decide on waiting for him to open up to you when he’s ready. 
You’re just finishing propping up all the photos on their shelf when you hear the timer go off from the kitchen. The muffins are perfectly done, so you pull them out to let them cool off. You glance at the clock and decide that you’ll have enough time to plant some flowers. 
Javi had made these absolutely gorgeous wooden planters for you to put outside the house, and you’ve been waiting until you had time to yourself to fill them. Javi also assisted you in picking out what flowers would go in there—orange Marigolds. They look beautiful in contrast to the white siding of the house. 
Since you’ve moved in, you’ve fallen so deeply in love with the old farm house. It’s honestly the house you always pictured as a girl when you would dream about your future. The big porch, the intricate vintage details, the rolling hills in the background. You just can’t believe that you’re here already, that Javi brought you here. 
You get misty eyed thinking about it, gratitude swelling once again in your chest. Your eyes land on the flowers laid out to be planted and you realize you’ve been smiling like an idiot. Shaking yourself out of it, you flip on the radio you brought from the kitchen and get to work. 
You savor the feeling of the sun beating down on you and the gentle breeze cooling you. It feels so nice to be outside with this weather when you’re not working your ass off on a farm. 
The rest of the day is spent exactly as you had it planned. You finish planting, wash up a bit, finish the guest room, and read a bit before you have to start dinner. It’s a relatively busy day, but it doesn’t feel like work. It’s nice, getting things done in your own house.
You have just enough time to get dinner ready and pop it into the oven before you hear the front door open. Your stomach flutters as a grin spreads across your face. You had a great day, but nothing you did could top the feeling of being in your husband’s arms. 
“Javi?” you call out as you start to walk back to the entryway, wiping your hands off on a dish towel. You wonder if he can smell what you just put in the oven—it’s his favorite. You grow a little concerned when he doesn’t answer right away. 
“Baby?” you ask again. 
Javi is silently toeing his boots off when you round the corner and walk to him. Your stomach drops along with your dish towel when you see the somber expression on his face. 
“Honey, what’s wrong?” you ask gently, stepping toward him and reaching your hands out. He meets you halfway and pulls you into a comforting hug. You can feel the way he deflates against you as if all of his stress suddenly disappears when he holds you. 
The combination of his raw emotion and the way he uses one hand to smooth down your hair makes tears spring to your eyes. You’re not used to him looking so distraught.
“I have some news, carino,” Javi says after a moment. His words are quiet but you can sense the urgency behind them. You loosen your grip to allow him to take a step back. He crouches down slightly in front of you so that you’re looking down at him. 
“I received my promotion today,” he says, taking your hands and watching your face scrunch in confusion. 
“But isn’t that a good thing?” you ask. “I know how long you’ve been waiting for this, Javi. What’s the matter?” You don’t understand why he would be upset by such a thing. Javi nods and takes a deep breath. 
“Yes, baby, it was supposed to be a good thing. They offered me almost double what I’m making right now,” he says. By his tone of voice, you can tell that there is more to be said. 
“That’s great,” you say, though it sounds more like a question than anything. “What do you mean ‘offered’?”
“They gave me a choice,” he says after another deep breath. “I only get the promotion if I relocate.” you jerk your head back slightly. What kind of shitty deal is that? He must see your train of thought in your expression because he quickly elaborates. 
“I don’t have to accept the offer, of course, but I won’t get the promotion if I don’t. Things will just stay as they have been.” 
“Well, where do they want you to relocate?” you ask even through the sour taste in your mouth at the thought of leaving this house. You don’t like the look he gives you when you do. 
“Colombia,” he looks hard into your eyes as they widen. 
“What, like West Columbia? The city?” you ask, bewildered. “There’s no way they mean... They can’t do that, can they?” 
Javi sighs again and nods. You wish he would stop doing that. 
“Not the city, sweetheart. And yes, apparently they can,” his words are gentle but with a bitter bite as he lets go of one of your hands to cup your cheek. 
“But we just moved in,” you say, your voice sounds small as you look down at him. He gazes back at you, and you can see the desperation in his eyes. He wants this so much, and you can’t be the thing that holds him back, no matter how much it sucks for you. 
As much as you might not want to move again, you would do anything for your husband. He’s done so much for you, it’s the least you could do. You owe him so much. Still, there’s that painful twist in your chest at the thought of leaving all this behind when you just got it. 
But you know that if it were you in his position and him in yours, he would tell you to take the promotion in a heartbeat. You’re being selfish right now, you need to think about what he wants. You can’t disappoint him.
“I know, baby. I asked if I could have a few days to think about it so I could see where you would be on it. I can still tell them no.” You flinch slightly at the impatience ebbing into his tone. It’s hard to pick out, but it’s there. It makes your cheeks heat and you feel for a second like a child being scolded. You don’t want him to be upset with you. 
“No!” you say a bit too quickly. “Sorry, I just-” you struggle to find the words. “I want this for you, Javi, and I’m here to support you in whatever you choose. I know how badly you want this, and if you decide to relocate, then that’s what I want, too.”
He smiles up at you, and you can’t help but to smile back. It’s true, you’ll do anything for him. 
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he asks, his eyes unable to hide the glint of hope that shines in them. 
“Yes, of course I’m sure. I’ll start packing tonight if you want,” you giggle and lean down to slot your lips with his. 
He wraps his arms around you as he stands up, picking you up with him. Your legs instinctually cross at the ankles behind him. 
“Thank you, baby,” he says once he positions you so that your back is against the wall. “Knew you would understand. You’re too good to me.”
You perk up even more as he praises you. All the annoyance has left his tone and you allow yourself to take a breath of relief. There’s a clear admiration in the way he looks at you right now, his eyes softening as he slowly dips back down to kiss you.
He thrusts his hips forward, stimulating your clit with the bulge in his jeans. You moan into his mouth as you grind down, seeking more friction. Your lips feel swollen when Javi releases them to suck at your neck. 
“Oh, Javi, more, please,” you beg, making him chuckle lowly. 
“I’ve got you, baby. Gonna make you feel good,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver. 
He wastes no time on unbuttoning your pants and letting you down to slide them down your legs along with your panties. It only takes a second before you’re right back where you started, only this time without anything between your cunt and his cock but his own pants. 
“Gonna get you ready for me, pretty girl,” Javi says breathily as he brings his thumb up to circle at your clit. You keen as he immediately begins to rub in hard and fast motions. 
As if that wasn’t enough, he takes his thumb away for only a second so he can gather spit in his mouth and lean over you to dribble it right over your sensitive bud. You gasp as the saliva begins to cool from the air of the hall. 
Suddenly, his thumb is back, continuing its assault. 
“God, feels s-so good,” you moan as Javi starts to nip and suck at your neck again, no doubt leaving a gathering of hickies behind. You can feel your toes beginning to curl and heat rise to your upper body. It’s not going to take long before you’re coming for the first time tonight. 
“Fuckin’ soaked already, baby. Gonna make it so I’ll slide right in. My perfect fuckin’ girl. Always so good, so ready for me.”
Javi’s rambling sets you off, you don’t even have a chance to warn him before your body begins to tremble. You’re pretty sure you shout his name between moans, but it could have been anything. 
“There you go,” Javi praises. “Such a good girl, so pretty when you come for me.” 
You hear the rattle of his belt buckle as he shifts your weight to his other hand and one of his thighs. You look down as he tugs on himself, his red tip poking out from his fist as he moves his hips to line his cock up with your soaked cunt. 
He grips your chin and kisses you fiercely as he pushes in, shoving his tongue into your mouth at the same time. Your sharp whine is smothered by his tongue licking into you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head from feeling so full. 
He thrusts up heavily, effortlessly knocking the breath out of your lungs with each slam of his hips. Your back jots up the wall despite Javi’s best efforts in bringing you down to him. He lets one hand trail up to cradle the back of your head so that it doesn’t hit the wall with the force that he’s shoving up into you with. 
“You’re so tight for me sweetheart, taking my cock so good,” he pulls away just enough to breathe out the words. 
You clench around him, still not used to the filth that spews from his mouth when he gets his dick wet. 
“Yeah, you fuckin’ love that don’t you.” 
You nod as much as you can while focusing on the way his tip is punching into your cervix. You can feel another orgasm approaching, and you start to tense and keen from the intensity of it. Your legs start to shake around him and Javi increases the grip he has on your hip. 
“There you go, take it just like that baby girl,” he grits. 
You let your head rest on his shoulder, weakly mouthing his neck, salty and slick with sweat. Your arms tighten around him in an attempt to hold on, but you can feel your mind numbing from the euphoric feeling building up in your abdomen and spreading through the rest of your body. 
“Give it to me, I can feel it baby,” Javi groans, picking up his pace. The increase makes the slaps coming from where your bodies have fused together echo through the hall, your wetness splattering on your thighs with each smack. 
There’s a sharp tap to your clit with each thrust, and you’re coming around his cock with a scream before you realize you’d been that close in the first place. You feel your body melt as your husband nips at your jaw in an attempt of holding his composure. 
“Oh that’s so fucking good sweetheart, come all over my cock just like that. Messy fucking pussy,” Javi continues to talk you through it, bringing the hand from your head back to your clit as you moan wildly. 
“Who makes this cunt feel good, huh?” 
“Y-you do, Javi, you do,” you cry as you come back down from your high. 
“Yeah? Who’s cock? Who’s cock do you fucking cry on?” 
“Ah—Yours, Javi!”
“Goddamn it—such a g-good girl…” 
You nod into his neck, your brows furrowing as he keeps pushing up into you. He slams one hand onto the wall beside your head to hold himself up for balance as he pummels into you to bring himself closer to the edge. Javi grunts and groans into your ear like a mad man, rapidly chasing after his pleasure. 
You barely register an overstimulated tear run down your ruddy cheek at the feeling of his cock continuing to spread you open and nail that spot deep inside of you. A pleasured sob escapes your closed mouth as he keeps manipulating your limp body. 
“Gonna come in this pussy, fill you up so f-fucking full,” he claims right before his pace begins to falter. His hips jerk and he comes with a muffled grunt, his fingers gripping you hard enough to leave bruises for later. 
He lifts your head and takes your mouth again, moaning into your swollen lips as he stills inside of you. It’s a complete mess, all tongues and teeth clashing together out of pure hunger. When he pulls his head back, you’re both panting and staring into each other’s eyes with heavy lids, both of you thoroughly exhausted. Enough so that you don’t recognize the burning smell floating down the hall until now. 
Javi’s eyes narrow as yours widen, your mouth falling as well. He glances down at where you're still connected to make sure you’re not hurt. 
“What’s the matter?” 
You bite your bottom lip, waiting for him to smell what should have been dinner. He gets it after a moment, his eyes softening and a—dare you say giggle—tumbles from his full lips. 
“Yeah,” you confirm his silent suspicions, smiling despite the inconvenience. “You might need to go grab us some dinner.” 
****
Thank you for reading! I would love to hear y'all's thoughts so far! Taglist is open as usual <3
Series taglist:  @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog
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merrybloomwrites · 6 months
Text
You Can Start a Family (Extra: Fan Reactions)
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Finally doing my first requested story!
Based on the following ask from @drunk-teens-doing-drugs and the comment from @luxiorchive
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Summary: A serious of reactions from from fans and Media about Harry's new girlfriend as well as Mitch & Sarah's feelings of being left out of big moments. This story starts immediately after the end of chapter 10.
Previous Chapters:
Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten
Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2
Mitchrry Prequel
Mitch & Matilda
Wordcount: 2.1K
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“Can you do me a favor?” Harry says, breaking the morning silence.
“Uhm, yea, sure, what is it?” You ask. Unless Harry asked you for something crazy you’d do pretty much anything he said right now. Two days ago, he joined your relationship and you, Harry, Mitch, and Sarah had your first official date together. Yesterday you all spent the day out on the water enjoying the beautiful Italian views. The night ended back in your shared bed, you and Harry having sex for the first time while Mitch and Sarah reconnected right next to you.
So yea, you were pretty blissed out and content, happy to please your boyfriends and girlfriend however they want.
You’ve all been awake for a little while, hanging out in bed and switching cuddle partners every now and then. You’re currently in between Mitch and Sarah with Harry on Sarah’s other side. He’d picked up his phone a few minutes ago, seeing a screen full of notifications and he knew he had to peek at what was happening, just to make sure nothing was wrong. Which has led to him asking you a favor.
“Can you not go on social media today?” He asks you.
“Sure,” you answer quickly. That was an easy request. You aren’t even sure where your phone is to be honest. You’re more than happy to exist in your little happy bubble, but still, you’re curious about his request. “Can I ask why you want me offline today?”
“Yea the uh, the pap photos from yesterday have been posted.”
“Oh gosh, what, are they bad? Was it a terrible angle and I look awful? Did they like, photoshop someone else’s face on me or something?”
“No, love,” he answers with a laugh. “Nothing like that. It’s just that this is new and I’m not sure how people are going to respond yet. I want to make sure you don’t stumble across something nasty.”
“Do you think people are going to be negative?” Sarah asks, worried about the idea of you two receiving backlash.
“I never know what to think,” he replies while scrolling through his phone. “But I will say that everything seems positive so far. Media outlets are confused, wondering who this ‘mystery woman’ is. Fans are much better detectives. They’ve already posted some videos of you at my shows.”
“Can I see?” Mitch asks and takes the phone Harry hands him. After a moment he says, “Oh this is good. The people who were near you at the concerts are all saying how nice and chill you were. There’re a few comments saying you seem to follow Harry’s treat people with kindness motto, that’s like the best compliment his fans can give.”
You smile at that, remembering all the moments you got to share with Harry’s fans during his shows. You realize that you probably won’t be able to do that again in the future, now that you’re officially known as Harry’s new girl, but you hope you’ll still be able to interact with the fans in some way.
“Okay, phones away,” Sarah says, and Mitch immediately locks the phone and hands it back to Harry.
“What’s the plan for today?” Sarah then asks.
“Can we stay here and go swimming?” you ask. “I’ve been taking Ryan in the pool a lot but I don’t get to actually swim, you know?”
“Sounds good to me,” Harry replies as the other two nod in agreement. “How is Ryan?” he asks, and you fill them in on the boy you nanny as you all get ready.
The four of you spend that day and the next relaxing at the private villa. It isn’t until dinner of the second evening that Harry decides it’s time to pop the bubble and see what people are saying online.
You’re all sitting at the table outside and he explains that no news is good news, that his publicist would have called if there was anything truly bad being said. He pulls out his phone and starts to scroll. When he doesn’t say anything for the first minute you start to get anxious but finally he begins to smile.
“It’s good?” Sarah asks.
“It’s- Yea. It’s really good. I mean, I hoped this would be the reaction, but I’m used to getting so much negativity that I didn’t think it would actually be like this. I mean there’s a couple of bad comments but for the most part it’s, God, it’s really good.” Harry says this with a smile so big his dimples are showing. Suddenly your insecurities and fears vanish, replaced by joy for your boyfriend.
His words and obvious relief make you remember all that he’s been through with the public. He’s suffered years of lies and abuse from fans and media alike, and he’s probably been more worried than anyone else the past few days even if he wasn’t showing it.
You move to sit in his lap, kissing him gently then asking, “Can you read us some comments?”
Harry complies happily, one arm wrapped around you as he tells you all what people are saying.
There are hundreds of comments saying how cute and happy you two look together. Some people have negative things to say about you, but even seeing them say that you’re not pretty, or too plain, or a total nobody can’t shake you. It doesn’t matter what they think, not really. It matters what Harry and Sarah and Mitch think. And since they respond with compliments to contradict every negative comment you’re feeling pretty good.
There’s a feeling of celebration in the air and you realize that you were all more worried about the feedback than you thought. But seeing so much positivity makes you feel really happy. You didn’t necessarily need the validation but having that rather than having people hate your relationship with Harry uncomplicates things a little bit. A four-person relationship is a lot to manage and needing to make the public happy would’ve added a strain that you all simply did not want to deal with.
Over the next few months people spot you and Harry together a few times both in England and in the US. Every time new pictures drop the fans get so excited and comment about how happy they are for you and Harry.
On a few occasions all four of you are spotted together. As always the fans have a number of theories about that and you’re all relieved to see the most common one is that you must be friends with Mitch and Sarah, and they introduced you and Harry.
You’re happy that they came to this conclusion naturally, since that’s what you always hoped the fans would think. The downside of course is that you have to distance yourself from Mitch and Sarah when you’re in public. You can somewhat get away with being close to Sarah since people seem to love that you two are “besties”. However, you and Mitch are extremely careful not to get too close, knowing that tabloids and gossip columns would jump on an opportunity to claim drama with Harry’s relationship.
For the most part, this secrecy is just a part of life. In fact, none of you really want any of your personal lives shared with the public if you can help it. But sometimes it does get difficult not being able to show each member of your relationship the same level of love and attention.
One of the biggest examples of that is the Grammy Awards in 2024. Harry’s up for an award and was asked to give a performance as well. The four of you get ready together and hype each other up throughout the day while making sure to not be too obvious in front of the stylists in the room.
When everyone is ready and about to get in the cars Harry turns to you and says, “You look absolutely beautiful my love.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips. When you break apart you’re blushing, aware of Anthony taking pictures of the moment.
“Thank you,” you finally reply. “You look gorgeous as well.” You lean together for another kiss and after a moment you pull away laughing and swatting at Harry as he gently tickles your sides.
You glance over to Sarah and Mitch standing together in another part of the room. There’s a mixture of emotions on their faces and you know them well enough by this point to figure out what they’re feeling with just a look. First is a look of adoration since they simply adore and love both you and Harry. But under that is concern? No. Not concern. Jealousy.
They want to be a part of that moment. Not for any sort of external praise or fame, but because they want to share every part of life all together as a foursome.
These feelings continue throughout the entire day. They want to be by Harry’s side with you as you support him down the red carpet. When you meet them all backstage after the performance they wish that they could share a kiss with you like Harry does. And when Harry wins in his category they want to celebrate with him instead of cheering him on from a separate table in the back of the room.
For someone who has no prior relationship experience before this, you are very good at figuring out what your boyfriends and girlfriend need at any given moment. And that night Mitch and Sarah need to be reassured that they’re as much a part of the relationship as you and Harry.
After finally leaving the afterparty that management forced you and Harry to attend you rush home hoping Mitch and Sarah will still be up. You find them both cuddled on the couch in sweats and immediately realize how uncomfortable your dress is.
Without hesitation you remove your dress, drop it on the floor, and pick up Sarah’s oversized sweater from a nearby chair. You slide it on, and it reaches mid-thigh, so you decide you’re clothed enough. You snuggle in between Mitch and Sarah and Harry joins the cuddle session on the couch a moment later. Things stay innocent for the remainder of the movie that’s playing and then you decide to show the others just how much you love them.
You first focus on Mitch and Sarah, pleasing them and showering them with care and adoration. Then the three of you turn to Harry and congratulate him on another Grammy win in a way that only the three of you are allowed to do.
After that instance the four of you have a conversation about what everyone was feeling that night. From day one you all knew that open communication is key and so over breakfast you hash out all the emotions and come up with a solution to make sure no one is ever feeling left out.
Things aren’t always easy for you and Harry either. While the general public’s reaction to you and him dating is mostly positive, there are negative comments and sometimes things can spiral out of control.
One time your cousin Matt is visiting during a week when Harry happens to be away for work. Pictures of you and Matt start to surface and within hours the cheating rumors begin. At first it doesn’t bother you as it’s honestly kind of expected, but people started to get downright nasty. Finally, you post a story on Instagram, introducing Matt as your cousin in a borderline passive aggressive manner. Most people back off after that, but some don’t believe you. From that moment you know there’s a subsection of fans that will never like you, but you know it’s a small group, so you let it slide.
There are also people who don’t like you simply because you’re dating Harry Styles. They stayed in the background when those first pictures were posted, thinking you’d be gone pretty quickly. But when they realized you were sticking around they started to post nasty comments. It’s mostly just typical mean girl stuff, saying you’re too plain, or fat, or short, or any judgmental thing they can think of even if it couldn’t be farther from the truth.
You don’t mind these comments too much, knowing they’re made mostly out of jealousy. And nights when they surface tend to end in Sarah, Mitch, and Harry showering you in compliments and worshipping your body so really the internet trolls are doing you a favor.
You know you’re never going to win over everyone so having a majority of people happy for you and Harry makes you feel content. But at the end of the day, what they think doesn’t matter. Because you have the most wonderful boyfriends and girlfriend to share life with, and that makes you the luckiest person alive.
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Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!
Let me know if you have any requests!
Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye @n0vaj3an @snwells @drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305
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mint-yooxgi · 1 year
Text
{25} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor
Pairing: Ateez X Reader
Words: 18,000
Warnings: Heavy Angst. PTSD and Trauma. Heavy Guilt. Talks of what happened between OC and Miyeon when the boys were gone; descriptions and recollection of past torture. Mental illness: description of suicide and a failed suicide attempt, depression, anxiety. Hurt/comfort. Talks of insecurities and uncertainty. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: Please heed the warnings carefully, this is quite an intensive chapter. I almost started crying while writing out a certain part of it, so be warned. Anyways, I wasn’t expecting for it to be this long, nor was I expecting to end it where I did, but I promise the next chapter will be full of an insane amount of fluff. I still have a lot planned for this series, so I really hope you all like this chapter! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Twenty-Three - Twenty-Four - Mini Masterlist
Darkness surrounds you. A calming, quiet darkness that settles within your mind as you rest. One that you allow yourself to get lost in, drowning in the stillness for however long that you can.
Time passes, you’re sure of it. Though, you’re not quite sure how long you spend within the confines of your own mind. What you think you do know, however, is that you are safe. No sense of danger forebodes within your subconsciousness for the moment. A fact of which makes breathing all the easier.
Or perhaps you’re already dead.
No. That’s not right.
Through the darkness, memories begin to appear. Vaguely, you see the remains of a completely decimated dance studio, an almost unrecognizable corpse twisted off to the side. In the back of your mind, you recall being surrounded by eight sobbing figures, holding onto you as tightly as you had been clinging onto them.
It wasn’t all a dream, was it? You hope beyond everything that it wasn’t. That when you wake up, you’ll be back in your room, surrounded once more by all eight of Your Kings who are sure to be watching over you right this very instant.
You don’t think you’d survive if that isn’t the case.
Slowly, you feel yourself walking somewhere within the confines of you mind. A faint glow begins to get brighter and brighter, drawing you towards it with every passing second. Once you reach it, and without any hesitation, you step through the blinding threshold, allowing the warmth to embrace you once more.
The soft light of the afternoon sun filters through your room, casting a faint glow over the entire area. Eight males are scattered around your sleeping figure, some sitting on chairs, while a few lay on the couches just off to the side. Two males lay beside you, gently cradling your resting form in their arms as two more shapes lay on top of your body in whatever ways that they can.
To the side, your door rests open just a crack.
A soft groan draws all of their attention to your form beginning to move on the bed. Immediately, Yunho is sitting up from his position on your one couch, while Mingi pops up to peer over the back of the other, eyes locked on your figure. San shifts to the edge of his seat, of which he had pulled right beside your bed in order to rest as close as he could to you. It was no longer his turn to lay beside you for the moment, so this was the next best option. Seonghwa sits right next to him, mirroring the younger male’s position as he leans forward, hands desperately clinging onto the arms of his chair.
All of them watch as your eyes begin to flit around beneath your lids before blinking open.
“Dearest,” Yeosang chokes on a sob as he clings to you, immediately pulling you into his arms and pressing his lips against the side of your temple.
In the blink of an eye, both Mingi and Yunho are there, sitting on the end of your bed and staring at you with tears in their eyes. A sight which you notice both San and Seonghwa mirror in the next moment.
A hand seems to be held in yours, resting carefully over your heart as you feel it squeeze your own. That’s when you notice Hongjoong resting on your opposite side, tears streaming down his face as he holds onto you for dear life.
Sparing a glance downwards, you notice the small lumps you feel resting against you seem to be two unfamiliar animals. A snake curls around your lower stomach while a large, brown rabbit rests over your thighs. You’d bet anything that they’re Jongho and Wooyoung, having shifted into animals to be closer to you for the moment.
You blink, heart pounding in your chest as your memories finally all catch up with you. Shakily, you raise your free hand to cup the side of Yeosang’s face, tears springing to your eyes as your whole body begins to shake.
“Please,” your voice comes out low, brittle and raw as your eyes squeeze shut, “someone tell me this is real.”
Their hearts all break for you once more, seeing you trembling within both Yeosang’s and Hongjoong’s embrace.
“It’s real, Starlight,” Mingi whispers, resting his hand softly over your foot still beneath your covers. “We’re right here.”
“You’re safe now, My Divine,” it’s Seonghwa’s gentle voice that draws your attention to him next. “She cannot hurt you anymore.”
You nod softly, blinking once more as a single tear begins to trail down the side of your one cheek. Slowly, carefully, you begin to sit up with the help of both Yeosang and Hongjoong. 
You don’t feel like they’re lying to you, but you’re not sure if you can trust your own mind right now. Your thoughts are all over the place, and all you can focus on is how it felt for Miyeon to smash through your void, shattering your mind until you almost lost yourself.
Thoughts which echo freely through all of their heads as you don’t bother to put up your void. Not that you’d have the mental strength to for the moment, anyways.
Crossing your legs beneath the blankets, you find yourself half curling into your own body. The rabbit - Jongho - is quick to shift right into your lap, settling against you and rubbing his face softly into the palm of your one hand. It’s as if he’s saying that he’s right here, and that nothing will take you away from him again.
Meanwhile, the snake - Wooyoung - slowly winds himself around your stomach, slithering up your back so that his head is resting right beside your own. Gently, he nuzzles his snout against your jaw, as if assuring you that you’re okay, and that this is real.
Glancing up, you meet Yunho’s gaze.
Throughout it all, there was one memory you desperately fought to protect above all others. A memory that was to be your failsafe incase something like this were to happen. Even if you cannot trust in your surroundings, you can trust in him. In all of them.
“That day,” you begin, keeping your voice low so as not to strain it for the moment. “How many symbols did you draw on my body?”
You ignore the glass of water offered to you by Yeosang for the moment as you continue to stare into Yunho’s eyes, watching as he blinks back at you. His breath hitches slightly in his throat.
“Two,” he breathes, searching your features intently. “One on your front, and one on your back. Both directly over your heart.”
You nod, swallowing thickly. You have to be sure.
“What was the symbol you drew on my back?” You push, noticing how the room remains absolutely still for the moment as the silence settles around you.
Yunho goes to answer, but your hand raising in the air stops him.
There’s only one way you know to be absolutely sure.
“Please,” extending your hand out to him, you keep your palm facing upwards, “Draw it.”
If you truly are still trapped within Miyeon’s mental prison, and the memories of them saving you have been all fabricated, there’s no way in hell she’ll know about the symbol he drew over your back. She only knew of the one on your front, because you would have died before you let her know of the first one he ever painted over your skin.
Carefully, Yunho shifts closer to you. He can feel his brother’s gazes locked on him as he reaches forward to gently grasp your hand within his own. His thumb caresses the side of your palm before he’s raising his other hand, using his index finger to trace a design over your skin. The whole time, his eyes never leave your own.
The moment the final line of the symbol of his name in the ancient tongue is drawn over your palm, you’re breathing a tremendous sigh of relief. Your shoulders sag, whole body relaxing as you nearly collapse into Yeosang’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “I had to be sure.”
“Whatever helps to ease your mind, My Love, we are more than happy to provide for you,” Hongjoong assures you, reaching over and tenderly cupping the side of your cheek.
However, you do not fail to miss the way he hesitates slightly. Almost as if he’s nervous to touch you. Though, the moment you lean into his hold, his own shoulders seemingly relax.
A small giggle escapes your lips, feeling the snake begin flicking his tongue against your skin, just below your jawline. You turn your head, noticing a small beauty mark below the snake’s left eye, confirming just who you thought he could be.
“Wooyoung,” you meet his gaze, feeling his tongue flick out against your skin once more. “That tickles.”
I’m just glad to see you’re okay, Angel, his voice resounds throughout your head, and you can hear the worry still clinging to the edges.
A brief pause where you attempt a weak smile as you finally grab the glass of water from Yeosang’s hands. You take a sip, almost instantly downing half the glass.
“Are you-“ San clears his throat. “Are you okay, Baby?”
You meet his gaze, and the broken look he can see shining behind your eyes has his heart faltering in his chest.
“No,” you barely manage to get the word out, the glass in your hand beginning to shake as your whole body trembles. You squeeze your eyes shut, leaning further into Yeosang for support. “I-“ you swallow, “I-“
You can barely get the words out as your emotions begin to choke you.
“Take your time, Dearest,” Yeosang comfortingly rubs a hand along your back, caressing your spine like he so often does whenever he holds you in his arms.
“We’re right here,” Yunho assures you, nothing but concern shining in his eyes for you.
“You are not alone,” Mingi adds, keeping his tone soft as he looks at you.
You feel Jongho nuzzling the crook of your knee, nosing at your one hand resting just beside his face. You’re safe now, Darling. We won’t let anything else hurt you.
You nod along softly to his words, tightening your grip the slightest bit on that glass of water in your hand. Bringing it up to your lips, you down the rest of the liquid.
“Can we get you anything, Baby?” San’s voice is soft, wanting nothing more than to reach out and comfort you in his arms, but he knows his brother’s have got it covered for the moment.
At your soft nod, each male shifts the slightest bit closer to you.
“A few things,” you begin, clearing your throat lightly of your emotions in the next second. “Can I get more water-“
The words are barely out of your mouth when Mingi has another full glass in his one hand. Reaching over, he hands it to you, taking your empty one without a second thought.
“Thank you,” you send him a small smile.
“Of course, Starlight,” he sends a soft one back. “Anything for you.”
Taking a few sips from the fresh glass in your hand, you let out a low breath.
“Mars?” You turn to one of the males sitting on your left.
“Yes, My Divine?” Immediately, he leans forward, body eager to spring into action for whatever you need him to do.
“Can you open the doors to the balcony?” The moment the words leave your lips, he’s moved. “I could use some fresh air.”
Seonghwa has to physically restrain himself from tearing your balcony doors off of their hinges as he nearly flings them open. Luckily, he’s able to take a deep breath, slowly opening each side one by one. A gentle breeze curtesy of both Yunho and Hongjoong flits through your room in the next second.
The gentle smile you send him as he sits back in his seat has his heart pounding inside his chest, happy he could do something that eased your discomfort. Even if it’s only slightly.
Taking another sip from your glass of water, your let out a long exhale through your nose. Your eyes fall shut, allowing the way you feel your lungs to fill with air to ground you for the moment.
Keeping your eyes shut, you begin to speak once more.
“Inside-“ you swallow the dryness of your throat, “inside my closet, top drawer on the left, there’s a small stone buried beneath a few of my shirts. I-“ you take a deep breath, “can someone grab it for me? I need it.”
Yunho is already halfway across the room before you finish speaking. Stepping into your closet, he’s quick to pull open the aforementioned drawer and grab that stone.
It’s not a very large stone by any means. In fact, it’s about the size and shape of those small rocks you can find at any of those children’s stores where they allow you to fill a bag full of gems to buy. It’s light blue in colour, smooth on one side while the opposite is slightly coarse.
The moment the rock is placed into your open palm, you let out another sigh of relief. Instantly, you’re shifting it slightly in your hand, thumb beginning to trace over the smooth side of the stone.
You can feel their curious gazes on you, even as you close your eyes for the moment to let the feeling of the stone in your fingers ground you. You’ve sat up fully by now, too, no longer leaning into Yeosang’s side. The one hand holding the rock rests on your one knee while the glass of water you still hold rests on the other.
You take another sip of water.
Movement from your lap catches your attention, and you crack an eye open to see Jongho shifting to face your one hand now toying with that small stone between your fingers. At the way you can see his nose sniffing at it, you can tell he’s more than curious as to what it could be.
“It’s my therapy pebble,” you explain, noticing how you have all of their attention on you for the moment. “My therapist gave it to me our very first meeting for me to use when my anxiety acts up. It grounds me. Though, I haven’t used it in quite a while. Not since-“ you cut yourself off, exhaling a long breath, “not since the worst night of my life.”
Each male does not fail to notice the way you avoid their gazes for the time being. The way they can all feel their chests squeezing as their hearts suffocate for you has their breaths hitching in their throats.
“What can we do?” Hongjoong makes sure to keep his voice low, hand carefully caressing the skin of your upper back as he swallows thickly. “What can we do to make it better?”
“Just sit with me? Please?” You lean back onto your pillows which Yeosang has conveniently fluffed up behind you. Of course, you’re careful not to squish Wooyoung’s body, of which is still wrapped around your waist in snake form. “That’s all I ask. For now.”
“Of course, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles softly at you, both him and Yeosang leaning the slightest bit into your either side.
You smile back faintly, allowing your eyes to flutter shut as you relax yourself into this moment. Still, your thumb traces over the contours of the stone in your hand.
“How long-“ you swallow, “how long was I out?”
A brief pause.
“Three days.” The airy rasp of San’s voice reaches your ears.
Your breath catches in your throat. “I see.”
Then, a thought crosses your mind that immediately has your eyes flinging open. Your form shoots up from your resting position as panic washes over your features.
“Kuroo, he-“ your breathing begins to come in jagged pants, fresh tears springing to your eyes, “is he-“
No. He can’t be dead. He couldn’t have died. All he ever wanted was to protect you, and you barely even remembered that he had been injured until just now. How could you ever forget?
“Shh, it’s okay, Dearest,” Yeosang immediately wraps you in his arms, one hand stroking tenderly over the top of your head.
“Kuroo is fine, Starlight, don’t worry,” Mingi assures you, a weak pull of his lips upwards as his heart pangs inside of his chest at seeing you so distraught.
“But he-“ you choke on your breath, hands beginning to shake.
The last time you saw him, he was barely breathing. His whole body had been crushed by whatever invisible force Miyeon had control of. You can still hear his whimpering mewls echoing in your ears. A sound which causes you to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to clear it from your mind.
Vaguely, you feel Jongho hop out of your lap, only to return almost immediately afterwards. His head brushes against your stomach, and you swear you feel the faintest swish of a tail over your legs as well.
The soft mewl you hear from below has your eyes flinging open to see little golden orbs staring up at you in worry.
A single tear traces a line down your cheek as you choke on a sob, “Kuroo?”
A warmth is suddenly at your back, and you feel arms wrapping themselves around your waist. 
“He’s a lot stronger than he looks, Darling.” Jongho’s low voice rumbles out right beside your ear.
Slowly, Kuroo begins to attempt to crawl up your body, his little face sniffing at the tear that clings to your jaw before dripping lightly onto his nose. He pulls back the slightest, only to return to sniffing gently at your face in the next moment.
Slowly, you hand the glass of water to Yeosang who takes it from your trembling grasp without hesitation.
As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you’re wrapping your arms around that little black cat and clinging onto his form for dear life. A sob tears from your throat, more tears escaping your eyes, and you feel Kuroo beginning to lick at your cheek. The purrs he lets out are the loudest you’ve ever experienced from him, and you cannot help the way you hold him the slightest bit tighter in your grasp in response.
“I thought she killed you,” you sob, pressing your face into his fur and leaving a few kisses against his side. “You wanted to protect me, and I thought she killed you for it.”
Just as tightly as you cling onto Kuroo, your left hand still holds onto that small rock for dear life.
“I’m sorry,” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as your whole body shakes from the intensity of your sobs. “I couldn’t protect you.”
“Baby-“ San shifts forward, nothing but concern reflected in his eyes, only for him to get ignored for the moment.
Guilt so fierce begins to consume you, washing over all of them as they are still privy to every single thought you are having for the moment. A fact which has all of their hearts breaking for you that very instant once more.
“I’m so sorry,” it’s then that they realize that you’re no longer just speaking to the cat. “I couldn’t stop her. I tried, but I couldn’t protect anything. She-“ you hiccup, “she-“ your breath hitches, “I’m so sorry.”
Your throat burns, tears continuously falling freely down your face as your entire body trembles uncontrollably. You don’t even register that you’ve released Kuroo until you feel yourself being pulled into someone’s chest. Two more bodies surround you on either side, heads pressing against yours as they attempt to calm you down.
More frantic apologies escape you in pain filled cries, chest feeling as if it’s caving in with each breath you take. If three days truly have passed since everything went down, then obviously they’ve had time to see the ruined remains of the house. The house they so carefully and meticulous crafted for the nine of you to live in together. The house you failed to protect from Miyeon’s destruction.
You sob harder.
“I can’t-“ you begin to wheeze, chest heaving with every breath, “I can’t breathe.”
Your emotions are overwhelming you, and the intensity of your wails are taking up the majority of your energy. With each expansion of your lungs, you find less and less air filling them, choking you from the inside out.
Frantically, you push the males surrounding you off of your body as you attempt to heave air into your lungs. You don’t know how, but you manage to pull yourself onto your feet, jumping over all of them and landing on the floor. You rush passed both San and Seonghwa and onto the balcony, hands clinging desperately to the railing as you lean against it for support. Lowering your head, you attempt to catch your breath.
Faintly, you register worried footsteps following behind you, seven figures standing around you in a semi-circle as Wooyoung shifts slightly against your body. Still, he remains wrapped around you in snake form, his snout pressing against your cheek lightly.
We’re right here, Angel. His worried voice echoes throughout your head. Just breathe.
A hand on your back has your whole body jumping. Turning your tear filled gaze, you see Yunho standing there with tears lining his own vision. Only, you misinterpret the real reason that he’s crying.
You fall to your knees, hands desperately clinging to his form as you rest your head on his thighs.
“I’m so sorry,” you sob harder, clinging onto Yunho for dear life. “I tried-“ your breath stutters, “I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t. She tore apart everything without a second thought. I couldn’t stop her.”
Out of the corner of your blurry vision, you see Seonghwa step beside you.
Your whole body shudders, chest heaving with every failed breath you attempt to take.
“She tore your passions apart, and I couldn’t stop her,” you shift the slightest bit, grasping one of both of Seonghwa’s and Yunho’s hands in each of your own. “I’m so sorry,” you just hope that they can forgive you for your failed misdoings, “I was too weak.”
Collectively, they all inhale sharply.
“No, Petal,” Yunho kneels in front of you, cupping your face gently in his hands as he notices that you’re still having difficulty breathing. The worst part is, you avoid his gaze in shame. “Hey, look at me.”
Cautiously, your eyes flick over to meet his own as Seonghwa kneels beside his brother.
“Breathe, Petal,” Yunho keeps your gaze locked on him, helping you through some exercises to calm your breathing for the moment, and catch your breath.
“We’re right here,” Seonghwa repeats, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, rubbing it up and down your arm shortly afterwards as you begin to calm down, even if only slightly.
“But-“
“Shh,” Yunho coos, thumbs stroking tenderly over your cheeks. “Our stuff is replaceable. You are not.”
“So, not another word of apology from you,” Seonghwa’s hand returns to your shoulder, drawing your attention to him for the moment. “You have nothing to be sorry for, My Divine.”
“It is us who have failed you,” Hongjoong’s voice has your gaze shifting to him now, seeing as he walks over to your side and kneels beside Seonghwa.
You blink, another tear escaping your one eye as his words completely catch you off guard. You fully turn to him now, an image of the destroyed garden flashing through your mind as pain clutches at your heart.
“If we had only made our wards stronger,” he begins, and you notice all of them now avoiding your gaze in shame. Even Wooyoung loosens his hold slightly around your waist as Hongjoong says this. “If only we had been smarter, then none of this would have happened to you.”
You manage to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, shaking your head all the while.
“Please tell me you seriously don’t believe that,” your voice is strained from the heaviness of your emotions.
One look into Hongjoong’s eyes says it all.
“No, My Kings,” you’ve finally managed to calm down enough to begin thinking clearly again for the moment. “Because of your wards, she couldn’t leave, and I’d hate to think of what would have happened to me if that were the case. I don’t think-“ your breath catches slightly in your throat, another tear escaping your eye, “I don’t think I would have survived if that were the case.”
Tears begin to fall from his own eyes, and you are quick to cup his face in your hands.
“You saved me.” You spare a glance at all of them. “You all did. I am still alive because of you.”
“You had to endure her for two hours, Dearest,” never have you seen Yeosang with such a broken look on his face before. “Two hours.”
“I won’t lie and say that they weren’t the worst two hours of my life,” you reply lowly, noticing how he, San, and Mingi all flinch in response to your words. “But, I am still alive. My heart still beats, and I am still breathing. All thanks to the eight of you, I am alive.”
You feel Wooyoung slither off of you for the moment, only for arms to wrap themselves over your shoulders as a body collapses into your back in the next. You can feel his muffled sobs against your spine as his chest shakes with every breath. His head buries itself into the side of your neck as he clings onto you for dear life, holding you tightly as if you might disappear at any moment.
“Does the fact that I-“ you take a deep breath, “that I almost died terrify me?” You blink, your tears briefly stopping for the moment as your whole body continues to tremble. “Yes. It did. It still does. For the first time in my life, I was terrified to die. Would you like to know why?”
“Please, My Divine,” Seonghwa breathes, silent tears creating trails down his cheeks as he continues to kneel before you.
“Because I finally felt like I had a reason to live for myself.” You reply. “Eight reasons to live.”
The way their breaths all hitch simultaneously has a weak smile tugging onto your features.
“Instead of choosing to die, like I have so often been known to do, I chose to live.” You tell them, watching as silent tears begin to streak down all of their faces. “I never thought much of my own life before. Until recently.” You share a brief look with Seonghwa, the faintest of smiles pulling at your lips. “So, for the first time, faced with the option of death, I wanted to live.”
“That’s what made this situation so terrifying to me,” you explain, voice becoming no more than a whisper. “For the first time, it felt like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Yet, I knew what I wanted. I knew what I had to do. I had to survive. I would survive. Not just for you, but for me.”
“Petal,” the soft call of your name from Yunho’s lips has you turning to look at him in an instant.
“I care about all of you. Deeply.” You take the time to meet each one of their gazes, raising a hand to squeeze one of Wooyoung’s own, which are still wrapped around your shoulders. “I wouldn’t have fought so hard to live if I didn’t. I wouldn’t have tried to protect our home so viciously if I didn’t.” Your eyes flash slightly as you continue to look at all of them. “I wouldn’t let you touch me if I didn’t. I wouldn’t let you experience me in certain ways if I didn’t. I wouldn’t do a lot of things that I do now, and I sure as hell know I would not have survived that day if I didn’t.” 
“So, please, do not blame yourselves for what happened. For what she did.” They’re all crying at this point, and the four that had been standing have all fallen to their knees. “Because I never did. Not even for one second.”
You see them all nod faintly in your vision, feeling Wooyoung nod against your shoulder as he buries his face deeper into the side of your neck.
Softly, Hongjoong brings his one hand up to cover your own, of which is still cupping his face so tenderly in your grasp. Right now, he leans into that touch more than you’ll ever know.
“My Love, please know that we feel the same,” Hongjoong stares deeply into your eyes. “Know we would never blame you for what she did to our home.”
Despite the way your heart still squeezes in your chest, you find yourself nodding along to his words. You expression falls the slightest, and each male swears to do whatever he can to comfort you in any and every way they can.
“Okay,” this time, it’s your turn to nod softly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’d like to take a bath, and perhaps meditate for a little while. Then, I’m going to drink a gallon of water, eat something, and then we can talk more about what happened. I have some things I want to share with you all, anyways.”
Slowly, Wooyoung detaches himself from your back, helping you stand to your feet in the next second. You notice San perk up the slightest bit out of the corner of your eyes.
“What can I make you, Baby?” He asks, a little eagerly.
You begin to make your way back inside your room, stopping only briefly beside San as you shoot him a faint smile.
“Surprise me,” you reply, placing a tender kiss onto his cheek. “Nothing too heavy, though, okay?”
“Of course,” the tender look he sends your way warms your heart.
Walking back over to your bed, you briefly search over the blankets until you find what you’re looking for. Once you spot that little stone, you’re quick to snatch it into your one hand, standing back to your full height instantly.
“Would you like some company?” Yeosang asks gently as you begin to walk towards your bathroom.
Just as you reach the doorway, you turn to glance at them from over your shoulder. A soft smile graces your features at the care they continue to show you.
“Not this time,” the fond look you send their way eases some of the tension in their shoulders. However, a loud mewl draws your attention to a little black blur that darts inside of the bathroom in the next second. Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Well, I guess Kuroo can join me.”
A few chuckles sound around the room, watching as you shut the door softly behind you as you enter the bathroom.
The whole time you relax in the tub, Kuroo rests on the edge beside you. Dutifully, he watches over you, making sure that you’re well protected and safe. The way you place a soft kiss onto the top of his head has him looking at you with those big, golden eyes of his, nothing but affection dripping from his gaze.
True to your word, you spend about half an hour meditating in the bath. That pebble never leaves your hand, thumb running over the contours as you clear your mind. Of course, you leave your void down for the moment. Just in case. The way you can feel them all occasionally brushing up against your mind as if to say that ‘you’re okay; we’re right here’ lifts a weight from your shoulders you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying. Though, you know for a fact that none of them are overstepping any boundaries for the moment, leaving you to your thoughts as much as they can.
Once you’ve finished washing up, you’re quick to dry yourself off. Wrapping your fluffy robe around yourself, you begin to do your usual routine after you finish bathing. Only, the moment you lift your head to look at your reflection in the mirror, you notice a faint glowing figure out of the corner of your eyes.
Your breath hitches, a scream nearly tearing from your throat. Immediately, you turn around to look in the exact spot you saw the figure. 
Except, nothing is there.
You blink. Funny, you could have swore you saw someone standing right beside the edge of the tub.
Perhaps you’re just seeing things. You have been through a lot lately, so you wouldn’t be surprised. It’s probably just a lingering effect from everything you’ve gone through in the past few days alone.
It’s that thought that helps you to manage to get your breathing under control for the time being. Again, that stone is held in your one hand as you finally exit the bathroom. Kuroo happily trots beside you as you make your way over to your closet, shutting the door behind you as you pick out some clothes to wear.
Grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, you’re quick to change. Before you exit, you grab a hoodie, throwing it over your body before turning to grab your robe once more. Swinging the door open, you’re quick to return to the bathroom to hang your robe back in its place before returning to your room.
This time, you begin to roll the stone between the tips of your fingers as you exit your bathroom. You notice all eight of them scattered throughout your room waiting for your return. A jug of water and a bowl of food rests on the little table in your sitting area. So, you begin to make your way over to the couches, seeing Mingi, San, Yunho, and Jongho already sitting there.
The other four are quick to join you, and as you pass by your bed, you notice that it’s been made. Someone’s probably changed the sheets for you, too.
Sitting on the floor, you stretch your legs out beneath the table. Of course, you make sure to grab a pillow to rest upon before you do, leaning your back against the couch in the next moment. Only, instead of feeling the cushions like you expected, you feel somebody’s legs behind your back. In the next moment, you feel them shift beside your body on either side, letting you lean further into the couch behind you.
Turning your head, you see Mingi smiling softly down at you. His hands reach out for you in the next second, gently placing them onto your shoulders. Slowly, his thumbs begin to rub tenderly against the back of your neck, massaging you gently.
A tension you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto slips from your body. A soft hum escapes you in contentment, eyes fluttering shut as Mingi continues to rub your neck. With each passing second, you find yourself relaxing more and more.
Blinking your eyes open, you notice that none of them sit on the couches around you. No, they all opt to sit on the floor with you, save for Mingi who rests behind you in order to continue massaging your neck and shoulders gently.
Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit directly across from you, leaning against the opposite couch. Yunho rests beside Hongjoong on his right, San to the right of Yunho at the one end of the table. Beside Seonghwa on his left sits Jongho. Wooyoung rests to your left, while Yeosang is to your right.
“I don’t expect you all to sit on the floor with me, you know,” you chuckle, reaching out your hand to grab the full glass of water in front of you.
“We know, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles at you, placing a tender hand onto your one thigh. “We want to.”
“Besides,” Jongho adds, “we don’t want you to think we’re looking down at you in any way. Especially if you’re the only one on the floor.”
Their answers warm your heart.
“You know I would never think that,” you reply, drinking the rest of the water in your glass until there’s none left.
Wordlessly, Seonghwa begins to pour more water into your glass as soon as you place it back onto the table.
“We know,” this time, it’s Hongjoong who answers you with a soft smile pulling at his own features. “It is simply one power dynamic that we do not like. Not when it’s you.”
Again, your heart warms at his words, only further serving to solidify the fact that you know that they’ve always seen you as their equal. A fact which you continue to remind yourself of every time those nasty words Miyeon had spat at you make a reappearance in your mind.
You tilt your head back, quirking a teasing brow at Mingi above you. “I suppose there are certain exceptions to that?”
“It’s easier to rub your shoulders this way, Starlight,” he grins cheekily, thumbs pressing the slightest bit firmer into your skin as if to emphasize his point. “Though, you know I would be on the floor with you in an instant if you asked.”
“I know, Moonlight,” you hum, placing a hand on top of one of his own for a moment. “I’m just teasing you.”
You can feel him squeeze your left shoulder gently beneath his fingers, that all too familiar smile of his pulling at his features. Though, before he can continue massaging you, you’re telling him to wait a moment.
“I need to crack my neck,” you warn them all.
In the next second, you’re tilting your head side to side. Quite a few satisfying pops can be heard from either side as you stretch your neck out. A pleased sigh leaves your lips, as you arch upwards, stretching your back out for good measure.
Settling back down into your spot, you place your stone upon the top of the table. Your hands reach for the bowl of food next, pulling it towards you. Once you see the fruit piled high within, a tender smile is pulling at your lips, the fork now grasped in your hand.
You shift your gaze to meet San’s. “Thank you, Baby.”
“Of course, Baby,” San smiles, tugging your hoodie that he still wears closer around his body. He’s just content to know that he could make you happy, especially right now. “Anything for you.”
Slowly, you begin to eat the fruit from the bowl in your hand. You can still feel Mingi softly massaging over your neck and shoulders, a fact which allows your body to relax the more tension is alleviated from your body. You can feel Yeosang gently brushing his thumb over your thigh where his hand still rests, furthering your sense of relaxation as you settle into this moment with all of them.
Honestly, you’re not quite sure where to begin, but the more you think about it, the heavier your mind becomes.
The soft caress of Yunho brushing against your mind with his own has your gaze shifting to his in an instant.
A tender, reassuring smile is sent your way. One which has the corners of your own lips quirking upwards slightly.
“So, I was really out for three days?” You ask, biting into another piece of fruit.
“It was the worst three days of our lives,” Seonghwa breathes, nodding in confirmation all the while.
“We hardly left your side,” Wooyoung adds, and you shift your attention to see him looking down at his hands in his lap. “We couldn’t.”
“Never before have any of us felt fear like we did on that day,” Hongjoong admits lowly, gaze locked on the top of the wooden table separating the two of you.
“What-“ Jongho’s voice catches in his throat as he looks towards you, that same fear shining within his eyes. “What happened?”
A slight silence lingers over all nine of you as you stare down at the now empty bowl of fruit in your hands.
“You don’t-“ Yeosang’s tone is soft as you turn to look at him, his one hand coming up to caress the side of your face tenderly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”
You shake your head, exhaling a sigh through your nose as you place your empty bowl back onto the table before you. Again, you grab that small stone into your one hand, beginning to feel it with the tips of your fingers.
“No,” you reply. “If I don’t talk about what happened, it will just consume me. I’m not about to let that happen. She doesn’t get to throw me back there. I won’t let her.”
You notice Wooyoung reach out for your left hand, and you’re quick to switch your pebble to your right so that he can loop your fingers through his own. He shifts closer, squeezing your hand firmly in his and reassuring you that he’s right here. That they’re all right here.
You take a deep breath, and then you begin.
“She appeared practically a minute after you had all left.” 
As soon as the words leave your lips, they’re all thrown into your memories. They see you turn around to face her, you attempting to reach out to them, only for that damn mental block to be slammed over your mind, and Kuroo lunging at her instantly. They watch as you try to save Kuroo, only to be shoved against the wall by your neck in the next second.
Growls threaten to escape their lips as they watch Miyeon sink her nails into your throat, only to pull a dagger on you soon afterwards. Though, each male cannot deny the sense of pride that builds in their chests at the way you stood your ground, taunting her all the while.
“Just as I said before, your wards saved me from whatever sick manhunt she had planned,” you say, feeling the way Yeosang’s fingers tighten ever so slightly over your thigh.
Each of your thoughts during the moment washes over them now, and each man cannot help they way they stiffen. You were right. If Miyeon had managed to kill you right in front of their very eyes that day, they don’t think any of them would have survived.
Yeosang, San, Mingi, and Yunho all flinch when they see her step on your ankle, shattering the bones beneath her foot with a twisted sense of glee on her lips.
“The way she was convinced she was going to be living with you all after everything drove me insane.” Your brow furrows, your body beginning to tremble as that same anger you felt before begins to bubble beneath the surface of your skin. “She thought she could own you, and that’d you’d all just be okay with it.”
“She made you give her a tour of the house?” San can barely control his own anger as your memory continues to play through their minds.
You meet his gaze, the tight smile on your lips saying it all.
Snarls escape their throats as they hear what Miyeon spoke to you while in this very room.
“Every word she said to you was a filthy, fucking lie,” Seonghwa hisses out, his eyes shifting black for the briefest of moments.
Your breath catches slightly, and you find yourself blinking in response, not realizing how badly you needed to hear those words for the moment. You nod, slowly, allowing your memories of that day to continue.
Again, Yeosang’s hand over your thigh tightens its grip slightly as he sees you reach the music room. Of course, he saw the debris of the smashed piano when he went to briefly explore the house after everything. He can still remember the way tears leaked from his eyes as he cleaned the drops of your dried blood scattered along the floor before replacing the piano with a brand new one.
His breath hitches in his throat the moment he sees you prevent Miyeon from touching his violin. Even his brothers cannot help the way they shift their gaze between the two of you for a brief moment, and he knows that they all feel the exact same way as he does at seeing you protect his prized possession. Well, other than you, of course.
Only, the moment he sees Miyeon fling you into the piano in retribution, Yeosang cannot prevent the way tears are quick to gather and fall from his eyes.
So, that’s how the piano got destroyed.
You got hurt because of him. This is all his fault. Miyeon. Your injuries. How you almost died.
The moment you turn your head to see Yeosang’s blank stare, his eyes not even being able to look at you, you gently shake your thigh to grab his attention. As soon as he shifts his gaze to meet your own, you shoot him a small smile. It’s as much as you can muster for the moment, but from the way he blinks, you can tell that you at least have his attention.
“I don’t regret what I did,” you tell him, nothing but sincerity reflected in your tone. “I would do it all again, too. Without hesitation.”
The way you turn to meet Yunho’s, Hongjoong’s, and Seonghwa’s eyes says it all. Yet still, those three have yet to discover what exactly happened between you and Miyeon in regards to them. That does not mean that they believe you any less.
The scene shifts, and more growls are escaping their lips as they hear her disgusting words spat at you while observing the dining room. Then, you’re quickly making your way across the house before stepping into the tailor shop.
The way your entire body tenses as you relive this one part of your memories does not go unnoticed by them. Mingi even stops his movements over your shoulders for the moment in order to begin stroking a tender hand over the top of you head in comfort.
“The dress was beautiful,” you can barely manage to meet Seonghwa’s gaze, but you do.
The moment the first slash is made into the material, you avert your eyes. That same shame washes over you, guilt beginning to consume you as you observe Miyeon destroying Seonghwa’s own space for the second time.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
The whole while, Seonghwa sits there across from you, tense and heart aching. What hurts him the most is seeing the way Miyeon gleefully tore apart his things in order to hurt you. That is the worst part of all of this, because Seonghwa just knows you are still blaming yourself for the destruction that she caused.
A gentle hand placing itself onto your ankle beneath the table draws your attention to the male sitting across from you.
“My Divine, the fact that you cared enough to even attempt to stop her means more to me, to us, than you’ll ever know. I need you to know,” his intense gaze keeps yours locked on his own, “I don’t care that she destroyed my workshop. I care that she hurt you, and I care that she’s still hurting you.”
Tears begin to line your eyes, and you find you can only nod along to his words. You fear that if you open your mouth, the only thing that will escape you are sobs. Especially since you know what has still yet to come.
They all watch as she leads you into the library, and after the small exchange of words between the both of you, your entire form begins shaking in rage. Wooyoung can feel it as your hand trembles within his hold. Mingi can feel it against his legs, and Yeosang can feel it beneath his hand that he has resting on your thigh.
“I wanted to tear her apart,” you voice lowly, glaring at the top of the table before you. “Especially after what she told me. After what I learned.”
Before any of them has a chance to ask you what you mean, they watch her walk over to the garden. Again, a sense of pride builds in their chests as they hear you snap back at her with some smart remarks of your own. A pride that quickly dulls into nothing, though, as they hear her threaten to burn you alive.
“Don’t worry, Starlight,” Mingi continues to caress your upper body, hands trailing comfortingly along your shoulders for the moment. “We made sure to burn her corpse to a crisp. There’s nothing left but ashes, now.”
You can only nod your head in response before your memory is cutting out for the moment. You blink, seeing them all staring at you in worry.
“I can’t-“ your breathing deepens, bringing your one arm to rest against the top of the table for support as you lean forward. “I can’t-“
You can barely get the words out, your hand desperately clinging onto that small rock held within your right palm.
“Hey, hey,” it’s Wooyoung who draws your attention to him this time, releasing his hold on your hand in order to cup your face and turn your head to face him. “It’s okay. You’re safe. She cannot hurt you anymore.”
He holds your gaze, eyes staring deeply into your own as his thumbs tenderly caress the sides of your cheeks. Slowly, Wooyoung gets you to sync your breathing with his, managing to calm you down all the while. Against the skin of your back, you register a soft touch caressing your spine, and you just know that it’s Yeosang.
“We’re right here, Starlight,” Mingi’s voice rumbles out from above you, nothing but concern reflected in his eyes. A look he knows is mirrored on all of his brother’s faces for the moment.
Slowly, your left hand comes up to place itself over Wooyoung’s own that rests on the one side of your face. You find yourself leaning into his touch more than you realize as you manage to get your breathing back under control.
“Take your time, Darling,” nothing but worry is on Jongho’s face as his heart aches for you. 
Oh, how he longs to be able to pull you into his arms for the moment, comforting you in any and every way that he knows how. All he wants to do is assure you that nothing will ever harm you again as he whispers sweet words of love and assurance into your ears. A sentiment he knows is shared by all of his brothers right now.
Taking a deep, albeit shaky breath in, you close your eyes.
“I can’t-“ your voice catches in your throat and you find yourself swallowing thickly. “I can’t relive what she did to me in there.”
“We understand,” it’s Hongjoong who answers, almost immediately, his own hand being placed onto the ankle of your other leg beneath the table.
“That doesn’t mean I still cannot tell you,” you breathe, keeping your eyes closed for the moment.
“You don’t have to, Petal,” Yunho assures you. “If the memory is too traumatic for you to remember-“
“No,” you cut him off softly. “I need to-“ you take another shaky breath in, “I need to talk about it to begin processing it. It’s the way I’ve always been.”
“Alright, Darling,” Jongho’s tone is gentle as he shifts slightly in his spot, as if to move closer to you for the moment. “Whenever you’re ready. We’re right here.”
A slow nod of your head is all that they receive in response as you turn your gaze to your hand resting on top of the table.
A brief silence.
“She-“ you hesitate. “She-“ you swallow, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. “She tried to drown me.”
A stillness so deadly settles over all of them as they let your words sink in.
“In the fountain.” You continue. “After killing all of the plants, and threatening to burn me alive,” you pause only briefly, “she tried to drown me.”
“Baby,” San’s worried gaze immediately fills with tears as he looks towards you.
A look which is mirrored on Mingi’s, Yunho’s, Jongho’s, and Yeosang’s faces. However, none of them are as bad as both Hongjoong and Wooyoung are.
Wooyoung’s whole body begins to tremble and he pulls himself up from his spot in order to begin pacing in the open area right beside the couch. His hands are clenched into fists, shaking all the while as he holds them at his sides. His chest rises and falls dramatically with each inhale, eyes flashing black for the briefest of moments.
Hongjoong, on the other hand, goes unnaturally still. His gaze loses focus as he stares directly in front of him for the time being. That is, until his entire body begins to shake.
Slowly, he pushes himself up onto his feet, and he can feel your dull eyes watching him the whole time. A fact which shatters his already fragile heart even more than it already is. Desperately, he tries to keep his tears at bay, but Hongjoong finds that he can no longer prevent the first from slipping down his face as he sees you gazing at him with your own sense of worry in your eyes.
A small sense of regret begins to linger throughout your mind at telling them this piece of information, given the way that they all seem to be reacting now.
“We should have done more to her,” Wooyoung is seething as he continues to pace back and forth. “We should have fucking torn her flesh right from her bones.”
“Wooyoung,” Jongho warns.
“It wasn’t enough,” Wooyoung continues. “It will never be enough.”
“Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s firm voice manages to draw the younger’s furious gaze to him for the moment. “Calm yourself.”
“You can’t seriously be telling me that-“
“We all feel the exact same way,” Yeosang meets his brother’s gaze from over your shoulder, and the darkness he can see swirling within the elder’s own has him halting in his tracks.
“However, right now, your anger is not helping,” Yunho frowns at the man standing almost directly across from him. 
At the way the elder flicks his gaze to your slightly trembling form held in Yeosang’s arms, Wooyoung is immediately back at your side.
“I’m so sorry, Angel,” Wooyoung’s gaze holds nothing but concern for you as he grabs your hand in his once more. “I’m not angry at you. Please, don’t think I’m angry at you.”
You shake your head slightly. “You’re allowed to be angry, Woo. You all are.”
He squeezes your hand in response.
“It’s just-“ you sigh, shifting your position slightly. “I’ve never been good with other people’s anger. Or shouting. Especially not when I’m in this sort of mental state.”
“We appreciate you telling us, Petal,” Yunho smiles softly at you from across the table.
“We promise to keep that in mind going forward,” San assures you gently, watching you nod in response.
Briefly, your eyes dart around the area, a frown pulling at your features. “Where’s Joong?”
Wordlessly, both Yunho and Seonghwa share a look between each other before the eldest is motioning with his head over his shoulder. At the way your brow furrows even deeper, eyes darting passed the couch and still not seeing Hongjoong anywhere, you begin to stand.
Once you’re on your feet, with a little help from Yeosang, Mingi, and Wooyoung, you’re carefully weaving your way through the sitting area to find your missing King. When you step passed the couch, you turn your head slightly from side to side, scanning the room. However, what you don’t expect is to see Hongjoong crouched behind the sofa, tears streaming down his face as he covers his mouth with his one hand in order to muffle his sobs.
“Oh, Hongjoong,” your expressions falls, synonymous with the way you drop to your knees before him. “My King, why are you crying?”
Your question, in that soft tone of yours filled with nothing but concern for him, only makes him sob harder. The way you pull him into your embrace in the next second has him clinging onto you for dear life, entire body shuddering as he buried his face into the side of your neck.
“How can you even stand to look at me right now?” He chokes on his breath, hands clinging desperately to your back despite his words. "I’ve failed you.”
“Why?” To say you’re completely caught off guard by his question would be an understatement. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s all my fault,” Hongjoong’s voice trembles as he inhales a shuddering breath. “The fountain-“ he chokes on a sob, “in the garden,” his grip tightens around you, “it was my idea.”
You stiffen the slightest bit beneath his touch, and it’s enough to have him clinging onto you harder, afraid that you may slip between his very fingers at any moment.
“She tried to kill you using everything of my own,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper, and it’s like he confesses to the darkest of sins right then and there. “It was my blade she used to torture you with. It was my fountain she tried to drown you in. It was my wards that she broke through.” His voice is but a mere rasp, overcome by his emotions for the time being. “It’s all my fault.”
You take a moment to collect your own thoughts, tightening your grip around him as you begin to thread your fingers gently through his hair with your free hand.
“You know I don’t believe that for one second, right?” You keep your voice calm, much steadier than you thought you’d be able to for the moment. “I thought I told you that I don’t blame you, any of you, for what she did.”
“I still gave her the means to hurt you.” He replies, somewhat bluntly.
“Was that ever your intent?” You turn his own words back on him.
A brief pause in which he pulls away only the slightest in order to meet your gaze. His eyes shine with a fear unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him before at the mere suggestion.
“No,” he shakes his head slightly. “Never.”
“Exactly.” You brush your hand over his cheek tenderly. “You swore yourself that you would never hurt me, and My Love, you never have. None of you have ever hurt me, nor could you ever hurt me in the ways that she did. I know for a fact that none of you would ever forgive yourselves if you did.”
You fail to see how all males stiffen behind the couch both you and Hongjoong are hidden behind. Though, you most certainly hear the way all of their breaths hitch in their throats, including the King before you.
“You did not hold my head beneath the water. You have never raised a blade to my skin,” the way the thumb of your right hand caresses over where that all too familiar scar rests over his own chest has a shiver running down his spine. You meet his gaze. “I know you never will. At least, not with the intent to hurt me. Not like she did.”
“The reason I lasted so long,” you continue. “The reason I was able to hold out against her for as long as I did, was because I knew. I knew that the second you got back that you would come to save me. You would protect me with everything that you are like you always have. All of you. It’s the reason I am able to talk about what happened right now, so quickly after everything. Sure, I’m fucking traumatized, but at least I’m speaking about it. I can begin to process these emotions because I know you’ll all be with me every step of the way. A thing that I’ve never done before so soon after such an incident.”
“My Love,” he breathes, and you notice how he’s beginning to calm down more and more with each word you speak.
“I know it’s hard not to blame yourself for every little thing that goes wrong,” you place your chin atop his head as you pull him to rest against your chest so that he can hear the sound of your beating heart. “Believe me, I’ve been there. I’m still there. What we all have to realize is that we can never control the actions of others. We can only choose how to react to what they do around us. We can either let their past wrongdoings consume us, letting those memories control our every thought and feeling, or we can grow from it.”
“I am tired of letting her make me feel powerless, even in death,” you exhale a long breath. “It’s even worse knowing the hold she still has over all of you. There is nothing I hate more than seeing the people I care about in pain, or blaming themselves for something that is completely out of their control.”
“So, please, My King, do not waste any more time crying over a matter that does not deserve any of your tears.” Slowly, you wipe the remaining droplets away with your thumb as he pulls back to meet your gaze. “Do not allow her the satisfaction of seeing you break, even after death. It’s exactly what she wants, and I’ll be damned before I let her get her way ever again.”
A small silence settles over the room as Hongjoong stares deeply into your eyes. His hands still desperately hold you close, gaze shining with nothing but the deepest form of love you’ve ever seen from him. Not only that, but gratitude.
Slowly, you tilt your head forward, pressing your lips to his forehead in a lingering kiss.
Hongjoong absolutely melts into your embrace, sniffling softly as he blinks away his remaining tears.
“Here you are comforting me when I’m the one supposed to be comforting you,” he jokes lightheartedly, hearing a soft chuckle fall from your lips.
“Grief is a two way street, My Love,” you reply, and you do not fail to hear the way his breath hitches this time as you say those two little words.
Once more, Hongjoong’s gaze absolutely shines with adoration as he looks at you, revelling in this moment for as long as he can. Your words have reassured him more than you’ll ever know, and he knows, along with all of his brothers, that he has only just fallen even deeper in love with you.
“Now, let’s go back and sit on the couch,” you begin to stand, stretching out your legs all the while. “My butt is getting numb.”
The way you see a few of their brows raised in slight amusement as you turn back towards them all has your eyes flashing in amusement.
“No suggestive ass jokes from any of you right now,” your glare is playful as you walk hand in hand with Hongjoong back over to the one couch. 
Sitting beside Mingi, you notice that he oh, so innocently averts his gaze from you for the time being as you hear Wooyoung’s laughter coming from the ground at your feet. In the next moment, they’ve all pushed themselves up, sitting in spots around the various couches and chairs lining the area. All except for the two males that still sit on the ground near your feet.
You hold onto Hongjoong’s hand, pulling it into your lap as you lean into Mingi’s side. Your legs come up to rest across the elder’s own, smiling faintly as you feel him wrap an arm around them soon after. Even Mingi’s arm wraps itself around you, pulling you that much closer into his side for the moment as you find yourself relaxing beneath their touch.
Still, that pebble of yours rests in your free hand.
Sparing a glance downwards, that’s when you notice that Yeosang still sits on the floor in front of you. He faces towards you, resting his arm against the side of the couch as it supports his chin. The way he tenderly looks up at you has you placing your stone onto your one thigh for a brief second in order to reach out and caress the side of his face. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your thumb stroking gently over his cheek.
“I could tell all she ever wanted was you,” your voice is a bit smaller than before as you continue to recount the events that transpired while they were gone. “No one else mattered more to her than you.”
A pointed line from Miyeon echoing throughout all of their minds has them inhaling sharply.
“Sure, she would take all of you in the end,” you say, keeping your tone low as you dive back into those emotions once more. “If only to prove that she could. Yet, it was always you she desired above all else. Until the very end.”
“I would never have let her have me,” he replies, staring deeply into your eyes. “Not in a billion years.”
You smile sadly, “she wasn’t going to give you a choice.”
Before they can even ask you to elaborate further, they are dropped back into your memories. The pain alone that they can feel echoing through your past thoughts has all of their chests squeezing tightly in response. Already, you were hurt so badly, and you still had to endure everything else that Miyeon had in store for you.
The moment you fling yourself in front of Yunho’s art room, their breaths are hitching in their throats. Though, none are as loud as the artist himself.
“Petal,” his voice trembles as he stares at you from across the table. You sit nearly diagonally apart from him, gaze fixated on that stone now back in your one hand as your thumb traces over every little bump and crevasse.
Nothing could have prepared him for the ferocity in which you had tried to protect his space with. The sheer desperation he can hear in your voice, even after you continuously got the wind knocked out of you by being smashed through the door has a feeling unlike ever before swirling in his chest.
“She tore everything apart without a second thought,” your eyes squeeze shut, fresh tears lining your lashes as you attempt to keep them at bay for now. “I tried to stop her, Universe. I really did.”
“I know, Petal,” instantly, he’s right beside you, kneeling on the ground as Yeosang moves the slightest bit over to give him some space. “I know.”
“She desecrated everything you worked so hard on,” a heart wrenching sob tears from your chest, and you cannot bring yourself to open your eyes to even look at him for the moment.
Yunho can still remember the moment he walked into his art room to see the shattered remains of the door, your blood soaking into the torn pages of his sketchbook littering the floor. The worst of it was the dried smear right in front of the canvass on display in the corner of the room, and he just knew something terrible had happened to you for that painting to remain perfectly intact.
The flower crown can be remade. His sketches can be redrawn. Hell, even that canvass he could paint again. But you? You?
Irreplaceable.
The moment they see Miyeon turn the sketchbook around in your memories, a blank page greets them. Immediately, they all understand that this is you respecting Yunho’s art in your own way by not showing them a picture he potentially hadn’t yet. Yunho knows that though this fact is unquestionably true, it is also you keeping your shared intimacy of that day the two of you claimed one another private.
A fact which warms his heart more than you’ll ever know.
Tears spring to his own eyes the instant he sees you lunge for Miyeon in order to protect that painting in the corner of the room. Even some of his brothers cannot help the tears that line the corners of their vision as they watch you do whatever you can to protect Yunho’s art. The second they see Miyeon slash your body as you jump in front of her blade to prevent it from ever striking the canvass, the tears are flowing freely from San’s, Mingi’s, Seonghwa’s, Yeosang’s, and Wooyoung’s eyes.
“You got hurt protecting the painting.” Yunho nearly chokes on his own voice. “For me.”
Finally, you open your eyes, turning your head to look at him as tears slide down your face shamelessly. Slowly, you nod your head.
“I wouldn’t let her touch it.” You swallow thickly. “I couldn’t.”
“You got hurt because of me,” Yunho practically collapses on top of your stomach, arms desperately wrapping themselves around your torso as he sobs into you.
“No, Universe,” immediately, you drop Hongjoong’s hand in favour of running your fingers gently through Yunho’s hair. “I chose to try and protect your art, and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. I’m only sorry that I failed you.” You avert your gaze. “I was too weak.”
You feel both Mingi and Hongjoong shuffle the slightest bit closer to you, a hand that you’d bet anything belongs to Yeosang coming to rest on your lower thigh. Even Yunho raises his head to look at you, shaking his head in your direction as his arms tighten around your waist.
“No, Petal,” he meets your gaze. “You were so brave. So, unbelievably, brave. The fact that you so desperately wanted to save my art, that you wanted to protect all of our things, means more to me, to us, than you’ll ever know. We don’t care about the things Miyeon destroyed. They can be replaced. You cannot.”
You hand shifts to cup the side of his cheek, thumb stroking tenderly over his skin. You can feel your emotions catching in your throat, and you swallow thickly, especially when you feel Hongjoong squeeze your legs tenderly in his lap.
Slowly, you begin to nod.
Yunho sends you a small, relieved smile. One which you weakly mirror as you raise a hand to dry your eyes.
“Do not feel guilty for the things you cannot control, Petal,” Yunho softly reminds you. “Know that we do not blame you at all.”
Again, all you can do is nod, smiling faintly as you wipe the lingering tears from your eyes. Your emotions begin to settle, even if only the slightest bit, and you find a weight lifted from your chest that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding on to. The way you can see all of them still staring at you so tenderly, eyes full of nothing but love and worry for you makes your heart warm. You feel comforted, protected, and safe, especially as you continue to rest in their arms.
Carefully, you begin to sit up once more, resting your feet on the ground as the four males surrounding you give you the space to move. Blinking, you turn your head to the other male who still sits on the floor, arms crossed against the cushion of the couch as he stares up at you with nothing but worry shining in his eyes. 
Slowly, you stand, stepping over Mingi as you reach your hand out to Wooyoung. Immediately, he takes it, and you’re helping him to stand, only to pull him down to sit on the couch with you on Mingi’s opposite side. You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him in your lap as you feel him bury his face into the side of your neck.
“I’m sorry that she chose the room of your passion to hurt all of us in,” you whisper, feeling the way he tightens his hold around you almost instantly.
A tear lands on your skin, followed by another, and then another. Even though Wooyoung does his best to muffle the sounds of his sobs, you can tell how badly this fact affects him, given the way his entire form begins to tremble in your arms.
You spare a look around at all of them as you begin to thread your fingers through Wooyoung’s hair, offering him any sort of comfort that you can for the moment.
“I don’t think I need to go into explicit detail as to what she did to me in that room,” you begin, swallowing thickly. “You all saw the state of my body.”
“It is a sight we wish we’d never have had to behold,” Seonghwa breathes, as if recalling that very image now. “Nor do we ever want to see you in again.”
“I never knew fear before until I heard you scream that day,” Jongho admits, hands trembling as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“I don’t think any of us did,” Hongjoong blinks, staring down at his hands in his lap with wide eyes.
“If it’s any comfort to you,” you briefly spare a glance around at all of them, “that was the only time she made me scream. She only succeeded once.”
“She did?” San sits slightly forward in his seat to your left.
“I swore to myself as soon as she appeared that I would not let her see me cry, or hear me scream.” You tell them. “It worked, for the most part. Until she got inside my head. I don’t physically remember much after that. Not until Yunho found me again.”
The way you shift your gaze to send the male to your right a small smile has a faint one of his own tugging at his lips.
“But, while she was-“ you take a deep breath, “while she was torturing me, I managed to get quite a bit of information out of her. She was more than happy to boast of her achievements to me.”
“Did she, now?” Seonghwa quirks a brow in your direction.
You nod, immediately launching into an explanation of everything you were able to find out from Miyeon over the course of your little conversation with her. You can see the way each male takes in the information, some of the facts physically repulsing them.
“She was going to brainwash you all into loving her after she had killed me in front of you,” you tell them. “She used Dimitri as a test run, proving that such a monumental loss of love could break someone enough to allow her control over their minds. Even now, that fact alone makes me sick. She wasn’t going to let any of you have a choice. She-“
Your breath catches in your throat as you instantly shut your mouth. A thought so terrifying flits through your mind as your fingers dig into the skin on Wooyoung’s back.
Of course, each male instantly notices your shift in demeanour. Worry tugs onto all of their features as you go unnaturally quiet, entire body still as you stare into the open air beside Seonghwa’s head.
You blink, keeping your voice low. “She is what all of you could have become.”
The briefest of flashes of that one conversation at the mall flits through all of their minds, and they all inhale sharply.
“I don’t mean to ever be insinuating that I’m comparing any of you to her,” you are quick to add. “You all are nothing like her, and please know that I realize that. You let me keep my autonomy. You chose to let me keep my own mind. She was the one willing to take that all away due to her own twisted sense of obsession. That, and she wasn’t afraid of hurting you to get what she wanted. A fact which I know none of you would ever do to me.”
You’re beginning to ramble at this point, anxiety clawing at your chest as you’re worried you’ve offended them for the moment.
“I-“ you blink, attempting to find the words to say, “I-“
“Shh, Starlight,” Mingi’s reassuring voice sounds right by your ear, his hand stroking along the back of your head. “We know you meant no offence.”
The sigh of relief you breathe is bigger than you anticipate, feeling Wooyoung chuckle against you in the next second. At least he’s stopped crying for now.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” he whispers lowly, his breath tickling the shell of your opposite ear. “You were just stating an observation you had made. A brilliant one at that.”
“I can’t believe she killed his family to try and get what she wanted,” San breathes, leaning further back into his seat.
“Shouldn’t that mean her hold over him is gone?” You inquire, eyes briefly flitting over all of them before locking with Yunho’s.
“Not necessarily,” Yunho frowns. “It depends on how strong the manipulation runs, and from the sounds of it, she altered his entire conscience. Mina did incur that whatever Miyeon had planned would still guarantee her victory, even in death.”
“Then, is there any way to free his mind? Or Mina’s?” You briefly recall what they told you about that locked knot of memories inside Mina’s head when they got back from their council the other day.
“If we managed to free Dimitri, he could free Mina instantly,” Yunho explains. “However, freeing Dimitri could require a lot of time and effort. Not to mention wards to keep him from lashing out, that we just don’t have right now.”
“Malik, though, is a completely different story.” Seonghwa sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“He’s dangerous, even without being a man in love,” Hongjoong adds, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, perfectly mirroring the exact position of the youngest who sits across from him.
“I bet neither will take too kindly to us after finding out Miyeon is dead,” Mingi crosses his arms over his chest as he sits back on the couch.
“Considering she managed to convince him to stage a coup twenty years ago despite being one of the most loyal generals we ever had,” San huffs. “Yeah, I think we’ve got some bigger issues than we think.”
“I’m surprised he ever fell for her.” Jongho adds. “Do you think she even cared for him?”
“I don’t think she was capable of loving anyone other than herself,” Wooyoung spits, quite harshly.
Soothingly, you rub a hand down his spine, feeling the way his whole body relaxes beneath your touch.
“She is the most vile, disgusting, loathsome creature I have ever had the displeasure of meeting,” you hiss, tightening your hold the slightest bit around Wooyoung’s waist.
Eight low growls of agreement echo around your room.
You go to speak once more, only for your voice to catch in your throat. That same glow that you saw in your bathroom earlier that day now rests right behind the couch Seonghwa and Jongho sit on. Vaguely, you can make out a shape, and it really does look like a person.
“Who-“ your panicked voice reaches all of their ears, “who is that?”
Immediately, all eight of them are turning to look in the direction your frantic gaze is in. Wooyoung even goes so far as to hop off of your lap, crouching in front of you protectively as all eight of them snarl threateningly at whatever presence seems to have caught your eye.
Only, a moment later, their shoulders are relaxing, eight heads turning back to look at you.
“You can see them?” Jongho inquires, head tilted slightly in curiosity.
“See what?” Your gaze never leaves that shining figure as it takes a step towards Seonghwa’s right, standing directly behind his one shoulder.
“Spirit souls, My Love,” Hongjoong answers you.
“Who-“
Turning his head once more, Seonghwa smiles softly, recognizing the figure instantly.
“It’s your grandmother, My Divine,” he turns his gentle gaze back towards you.
Sure enough, focusing a little more intently, the figure of your grandmother becomes clearer and clearer.
“How?” You breathe, sitting forward slightly on the couch as you see her smiling so fondly at you.
“We can all see them, but only Hwa can usually make out who it is,” Mingi explains.
“It’s most likely a side effect from ingesting his blood, My Dear,” Yeosang’s voice is gentle, and you glance briefly at him out of the corner of your eyes before your gaze is being drawn back to your grandmother.
“She’s been around this whole time, though she doesn’t appear as often as you’d think.” Seonghwa adds, noticing how you blink in awe. “Gave me a massive scolding after we came back from visiting the dragon’s nest, though.”
“You can talk with her?” The wonder they can all hear lingering throughout your tone has all of their hearts warming in their chests.
Seonghwa nods. “Only sometimes, though. Mainly when her emotions are extremely heightened. Otherwise, it’s mainly feelings that I pick up on.”
“Oh, goodness,” your eyes keep flitting between both him and your grandmother who stands resting with her hand on his shoulder. “I hope she hasn’t told you anything embarrassing about me.”
At the way he smiles, your eyes widen.
“Mars!” You nearly throw a pillow at him as you watch him chuckle across from you.
Then, as if deciding that she’s done checking on you, and making sure that you’re okay for the moment, your grandmother shoots you a cheeky thumbs up before vanishing into thin air.
“I think you just got my grandmother’s approval,” you blink, slightly stunned for the moment.
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time,” he grins, loving the way your eyes widen significantly at this fact.
“I don’t want to know,” you shake your head playfully. Then, as if realizing something, “wait, if Hwa is the only one that can make out the figures, what do they all look like to you?”
The question you pose is for all of them, and you watch them smile at you from around the sitting area. That all too familiar curiosity tugs at your mind once more. A feeling that they haven’t experienced for quite some time, but are each more than happy to revel in it now.
“Usually just a faint glowing orb of some sort,” Mingi answers for you, noting the look of wonder still shining within your eyes.
“Huh,” you nod, clearly impressed. “Neat.”
You blink, subconsciously beginning to run a thumb over that stone still held in your one hand.
“Do you know if I’ll get any other side effects specific to the eight of you when I ingest your blood?” You ask, nothing but curiosity reflected in your gaze.
They all share a look between each other, your choice of words sending pleasant tingles down their spines.
“Honestly, Darling, we have no idea,” Jongho says. “We didn’t even know it was possible to have any personalized side effects from any of our blood. If at all.”
You nod once more. “A bit of a weird question, but what does blood taste like to you?”
“It can taste like a variety of things, depending on the type and rarity,” Wooyoung explains. “Though, the majority of it will just taste like iron to many.”
“Type?” You quirk a brow, noticing how he didn’t really answer your question.
“It mainly just tastes sweet to us, but it can still be addicting,” San adds, sharing a knowing look with Mingi who still rests beside you on the couch.
“Do you know what your own blood tastes like?” You ask, eyes glancing around at all of them.
“Just tastes like blood to us,” Wooyoung shrugs, back to sitting on the floor by your feet. “Why? Did Hwa’s blood taste like something to you?”
Eight pairs of eager eyes watch you closely as you shift slightly on the couch.
Curling yourself into the corner of the cushions, you cross your legs, pulling a pillow into your lap in the next second to hug it to your chest.
“Tasted like dark chocolate.” You shrug. “And a faint bit of iron.”
Slowly, you watch a smug smirk pull at Seonghwa’s features as his brother’s heads all whip around to look at him. He can feel the content rumble building within his chest that wants to escape him at learning of this revelation. He only wishes that the context were better.
“So, I’m also assuming yours,” you motion to Wooyoung with your head, drawing all of their attention back onto you for the moment, “tastes like cranberry juice, and a little bit of iron. Based on that tonic you gave me.”
“It’s possible,” Wooyoung nods. “Though, my blood was quite diluted in that.”
You nod, blinking a few times in wonder. “Did my blood taste like anything?”
Immediately, all eyes are on Wooyoung, his brothers waiting for his response with bated breath.
“To be quite honest, Gorgeous, I wish I could tell you.” Wooyoung notices the way his brother’s shoulders all deflate in disappointment at his words. “I didn’t take enough to fully taste anything other than to check for poison. I also had a few, more important things on my mind.”
“Fair enough,” this time when you nod, your eyes seem to zone out, the reminder of the state that they found you in enough to have your mood plummeting once more.
Beside you, Mingi tenses, feeling Yunho digging his fingers into the skin of his knee. Sparing a glance at the elder male shows Yunho subtly shaking his head in Mingi’s direction, the faintest of warnings lingering in his brother’s gaze.
Subtly, Mingi nods back, body relaxing once he feels Yunho remove his hand from his knee.
Of course Yunho would warn Mingi to keep his mouth shut for the moment. The younger only wanted to joke about tasting your blood for you to know whether it had any particular flavour to it. A curiosity which is mirrored in each male, but now is not the time for such inquiries given the way your whole demeanour has just dropped.
Pulling the pillow closer to your chest, you rest your head against the edge. Desperately, you cling onto the material, thumb back to tracing along the side of your pebble. Your eyes stare, unfocused, at the table before you, seemingly lost inside your own head.
“I thought she was going to split my skull right open,” you admit, keeping your voice low. “I don’t know how I managed to fend her off mentally for so long, but I did. She jumped at every opportunity to smash through, and once I started slipping, she-“ you squeeze your eyes shut. “She used my own darkest fears against me. That’s how she was able to break through.”
“Baby,” San sits forward once more in his seat, reaching out for you worriedly. “You don’t have to tell us if you’re not comfortable. We don’t want to push you.”
“You’ve already shared so much with us today,” Seonghwa does whatever he can to get you to meet his gaze for the moment, but you keep your eyes shut, trembling breaths escaping your figure with each passing second. “Please, don’t push yourself.”
“I-“ you stop yourself, taking a long and slow breath inwards to steady your nerves. Finally, you open your eyes, and the faint determination they can all see shining behind your broken gaze says it all. “I think it’s time for you all to know some things about me that I have kept hidden for so long. I want to share them with you. I need you all to understand just how she broke me, and why I always say that I cannot go back there again.”
A collective stillness settles around the room as they all inhale sharply. Each male’s gaze is filled with nothing but worry for you, hearts pounding inside their chests as they observe you carefully.
“Before I begin, I need to know that you’re all okay with hearing this,” at the way you see Jongho shift forward, lips parting as if to answer you, you’re raising your one hand slightly to halt his response. “There already has been a lot of heavy topics discussed today, and what I’m about to tell you is no exception. I don’t want to just dump this on you all given everything that has happened recently. That’s not fair to you in the slightest if you don’t have the mental capacity to be able to process the information I am about to share with you. I do not want to overwhelm you.”
“Your consideration means more to us than you’ll ever know, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles softly. A pain filled smile that reflects the way his heart aches for you inside of his chest for the moment. Even still, after everything that has occurred, you’re looking out for them before considering yourself and your own needs.
“You will find, My Love, that we always have the ability to listen to whatever it is you would like to tell us,” Hongjoong’s soft voice draws your attention to him at the opposite end of the couch. “No matter the topic.”
“Whenever,” Jongho adds lightly.
“Wherever,” Mingi breathes.
“We are right here for you,” Seonghwa finally manages to get you to meet his gaze, smiling tenderly in your direction all the while. “Always.”
The way fresh tears begin to line your eyes has each male shifting closer to you instantly. Both Mingi and Wooyoung place a comforting hand onto each one of your knees, letting you know that they’re all here for you in whatever ways they can be for the moment. Never do you have to suffer alone. Never do they want you to suffer alone anymore.
With all that they are, and with everything they can, they will comfort you, protect you, and love you unquestionably until the end of time.
“You really all don’t know how much that means to me,” you smile weakly. “I mean this from the bottom of my heart: the eight of you are everything I could have ever asked for.”
Gentle smiles greet you from around the room, tears springing to each male’s eyes as your words wash over them.
A moment of silence settles over all of you as they let your confession sink in.
Then, Yunho clears his throat, voice still rough as he speaks, “whenever you’re ready, Petal.”
Softly, you nod in response, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves once more.
“I’m sure you can all remember how I broke down that one day,” you begin, noticing how they all seem to stiffen around you in response. “That voice had been with me for over a year before I almost let it win.”
The way you squeeze the pillow tighter is synonymous with they way that they all inhale sharply once more. You can feel the way Seonghwa looks at you from across the table. A concerned look shared by all of his brothers, but you can tell that his is slightly different. Different, because he understands.
“I never thought that I was capable of being loved.”
Your confession knocks the wind right out of them.
“I hated myself so deeply. I thought that there was always something wrong with me.” You go on to say, keeping your voice low for the moment as you avoid all of their gazes. “While my friends would be going on dates, or texting me about their relationships, I was always alone. Nobody wanted me. How could they? I wasn’t beautiful like everyone else. I could barely hold someone’s attention long enough for them to be interested in me, and when I finally found someone who bothered to spend time with me, it never worked out.”
“Perhaps it was because I’ve always been a hopeless romantic at heart, or maybe it was all the stupid ideals surrounding love that I had. Yet, despite everything, I had such high standards. For myself. For this supposed mystery lover I always dreamed about having. For everything.” You explain, eyes now fixed on the way your thumb rubs over the smooth side of that rock in your hand.
“Yet, whenever someone did genuinely express interest in me, I couldn’t help but always doubt.” You chew nervously on your bottom lip. “I was never the most popular girl, and everyone thought I was just this ugly weirdo who tried to get any sort of attention that I could. So, of course, no one thought anything of it to pretend to like me. I laughed it off at the time, sure, but hearing that someone you thought cared about you only asked you out as a dare, or for a joke, or to prove how nobody actually likes you, or will ever like you, is so mind-numbingly heartbreaking that it completely destroys you inside.”
Eight low growls build in their throats, anger bubbling beneath the surface at whoever so much as dared to play with your heart like this. Once they find out who it was, they’re dead. Though, for now, they’ll stay with you. They’ll listen, even if their hearts are suffocating from your every word.
Knowing you have felt like this, that you have continued to feel like this for quite some time, pains them beyond belief.
If only they had met you sooner. If only they had known.
“I never believed that anyone could love me, let alone be in love with me.” You breathe, silent tears beginning to make their ways down your cheeks. “My depression just made everything worse. I had so much self-loathing for myself, I could hardly look in the mirror without being disgusted by everything that I saw.”
“I have always sought approval from those around me. So, if no one could love me, why should I bother to love myself?” You smile faintly, a broken tug of your lips upwards. “Which is when I realized something about myself that must have been unquestionably true. Something that became my biggest fear the more I realized it to be real.”
You take a shaky breath inwards, eyes squeezing shut as you refuse to meet any of their gazes.
“I was unlovable,” shame washes over your entire figure as you curl in on yourself, voice no more than a whisper on your lips. “I always had been, and I believed I always would be.”
Carefully, you feel yourself being pulled onto somebody’s lap and a choked sob escapes you. Still, you are unable to open your eyes to look at them, clutching that stone desperately in your one hand as you cling to the pillow in your arms for dear life. However, what you fail to see is how all eight of them surround you.
Mingi gently cradles you in his arms once more, keeping your head tucked just below his chin. Tears stream freely down his face, a few falling against the crown of your head as you lean into him.
Wooyoung rests beside you to your left, his hand placed comfortingly onto the skin of your back, along with San’s, who rests as close as he can to you on the floor by Wooyoung’s feet. Yunho sits right beside him, his hand placed gently onto your waist for the moment as he silently chokes on a sob. Seonghwa kneels to his left, hand trembling along with his whole body as he keeps his fingers pressed against your hip for the time being.
Against your thigh, you can feel someone resting their forehead. Their hands desperately cling onto you as they sob against your skin.
Never has Yeosang felt his heart break more for you in this moment. He feels as if he has failed you, especially now that he knows that you went through this. The fact that you had ever felt like this, that you had continued to feel like this for a large portion of your life devastates him. He only wishes he could have done something sooner, to both ease your insecurities and tell you, show you, how those thoughts have never been true, nor will they ever be.
Kneeling on the floor right by your shins rests Jongho. His one arm is wrapped around your lower leg, hugging you to him as much as he can as the lower half of your body is held within Hongjoong’s own grip. Your legs drape themselves over his lap once more as silent tears escape his eyes.
“My mental health was at an all time low. I felt worthless, and completely and utterly useless.” You continue quietly, resting your head against Mingi’s chest. “Continuously finding my sister so close to death at her own hands took it’s toll as well. After all, if she could do it, why couldn’t I?”
Eight choked sobs reach your ears, and you can feel the hand placed over your hip tighten its grip even more so than the others.
“I felt as if I had no reason to live anymore. I didn’t want to,” your entire body begins to shake in their hold. “If no one desired me, then obviously I had no value in being alive.”
“Not to mention, that voice just made everything worse,” you go on to say. “I blamed myself for everything. My sister, my depression, the fact that I was unlovable. I was weak, and I let those voices win.”
Suddenly, the eight of them are thrown into a memory. Not just any memory, though. The memory of the worst night of your life.
Tears stream down your face as you look into the reflection of your mirror across from your bed. Your entire body trembles as you clutch a pillow to your chest, hand fumbling with that little stone desperately as you attempt to ground yourself to no avail. Briefly, your eyes keep darting to a folded piece of paper resting beside you on the bed before glancing back up at the vanity with the mirror across from you.
That’s when they notice where your gaze truly lies. For on the vanity rests a bottle of pills, a glass of water practically glaring at them from beside it.
Your emotions begin to flood their every sense. Shame, disgust, despair, and hatred wash over them unfiltered. A pain so great echoes in their hearts, feeling as if they are being suffocated with every breath they take, and they just know that this is exactly how you felt in this moment as they watch you begin to shift off of the bed.
With every step you take towards the vanity, they can hear those vicious voices spewing the harshest insults at you, taunting you with every breath. The most vile lies they have ever heard about you are thrown at yourself without a second thought, though the one they hear resound through their minds as you reach your vanity has sobs tearing from their chests.
It would be easier this way.
They can do nothing but watch as you slowly begin to take the pills before walking back to your bed. Crawling on top of the covers, you lay yourself down on your back, gently clutching that letting in your hands and resting them on top of your stomach.
You close your eyes.
You don’t know how much time had passed, and neither do they, for the next thing they know, your blurry vision is back and you’re throwing up into a bucket. Your sister sits worriedly beside you, tears streaming down her face as she sobs into her phone, a trembling hand rubbing over your back. Your letter rests open on the floor at your feet, stains lining the page in splatters as the ink smudges from your sister’s tears.
“My parents had gone away for a weekend trip. They would have been back the following morning,” your voice manages to pull them back to the reality in front of them, chest heaving with every breath. “I planned it so they would find me as soon as they got home, but my sister decided to come over that night instead.”
“How wonderful a sight that would have been.” You laugh humourlessly, dull eyes finally open as your broken gaze stares forward, refusing to look at any of them for the moment. “My parents go away for a weekend to celebrate their anniversary, and they come back to the gift of a dead daughter.”
“My sister rode with me in the ambulance, and she stayed with me the whole time I was in the hospital. My parents still think I simply got alcohol poisoning from drinking too much that night, because that’s what we told them. Before they got home, she went back and burned my letter so they wouldn’t find it, and that’s when we vowed to each other that we would get through this together.” You breathe out, sniffling lightly. “And we did.”
“It took a while, and a lot of therapy, but I got better.” There’s a slight shift in your tone. A sort of lightness that wasn’t there before. A lightness that reflects hope. “Slowly, I learned to quiet those voices, and manage them until I could learn to reason with myself. I may not have been fully able to love myself, but at least my depression was under control. The world finally started to have some vibrance to it again.”
“Now you see why I never want to go back there again,” you bring your hands up to rub at your tired eyes. “I couldn’t. I promised my sister I never would. I promised myself that I would never let my depression get that bad again. I would never let those fears, those voices control me again.”
For the first time in over twenty minutes, you finally begin to meet their gazes.
“I never believed someone could be in love with me.” You repeat, shoulders relaxing the slightest bit as you settle your hands lightly back onto the pillow in your lap. “Until all of you.”
The way they all softly gasp your name has your heart warming in your chest.
“You all made me believe in love again. You made me believe I could be loved.” Still, you keep your voice low, nothing more than a gentle whisper on your lips. “You have made me believe I am beautiful. You have made me feel desired. You have all made me feel so incredibly special in every way imaginable, but more than all of that, you have made me feel loved.”
Soft, affectionate rumbles build in their chests, each male shifting closer to you as much as he can.
“There was always a reason that I replied to you with ‘I believe you,’” you continue, feeling your heartbeat thumping from within your chest, “and this was it.”
You can feel the love pouring out of all of their gazes as they continue to stare at you with nothing but fondness in their eyes. Yes, there is still undoubtedly that concern mixed within, but each male cannot prevent the way their hearts absolutely soar at your confession in this very moment here in time. The way you seem to absolutely revel not only in their touch, but their love is simply icing on the cake.
“Which is exactly why when she broke through to my mind, and started implementing those false memories within me, I didn’t believe them at first.” You say, swallowing thickly as your whole body tenses within their hold once more. “So, when she threw me back into feeling exactly as I did during the darkest part of my life, only to-“ your voice catches as you squeeze your eyes shut, “to continue adding more fuel to the fire, I broke.”
“Is that-“ San is the first to speak after all of them being silent for so long. “Is that when she made you scream?”
You shift your head to look at him, nodding slightly once you meet his gaze. “I think so.”
You blink, turning your head back around to stare passed all of them again.
“I think she put her own memories of you into my mind, but instead of her being on the receiving end, it was me.” You breathe, staring blankly ahead. “After all, it’s the people that we care about the most that can shatter us the quickest.”
The way they all collectively inhale sharply at your words has you taking a deep breath. Again, you feel Seonghwa tighten his grip slightly over your hip.
“They were.” Yunho clears his throat. “They were all hers. We would never look at you like that. We couldn’t. I would rather gouge my own eyes out than make you believe I would ever look at you with anything other than love in my gaze.”
“We all would,” Jongho confirms, nothing but sincerity reflected in both his tone and eyes.
You smile faintly. “I believe you.”
Eight gentle caresses of your mind serve as their response, helping to ease a bit more of the tension that consumes your figure for the time being.
“I do not want to allow her to continue to have a hold over me, even after death,” you swallow. “However, it is a lot easier said than done.”
“What can we do?” Mingi’s voice rumbles out above you, chin shifting from resting on the top of your head in order to place his lips upon the crown. “What can we do to make it better, Starlight?”
“You’ve already done more than I could ever ask for,” your honest reply warms their hearts more than you’ll ever know. “I don’t think I would have been able to talk about things so soon were it not for all of you. Were it not for what you all have done, and continue to do for me. What you all mean to me.”
Soft rumbles of affection greet your ears, and your heart flutters in your chest knowing that they’re all here to comfort you for the moment.
“For now, all I ask is that you stay with me.” You feel yourself fully relax against Mingi’s chest, allowing yourself to feel all of them surrounding you with their touch, their comfort, and their protection.
“Always, My Love,” Hongjoong breathes, thumb gently stroking along the skin of your knee as he continues to hold your legs over his lap.
“We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” Yunho smiles softly at you.
“Thank you, My Divine, for sharing this with us,” Seonghwa reaches up to grab your hand gently in his own, bringing the back of it to his lips and placing a lingering kiss upon your skin.
“Thank you for trusting us.” Yeosang turns his head towards you, keeping it resting against the skin of your thigh as he meets your gaze.
“We will always be here for you, in whatever ways you need us,” Jongho adds, squeezing your shin lightly for emphasis.
“If you ever need anything from us, anything at all,” San soothingly rubs his hand in circles over your lower back, feeling you physically relax beneath his touch. “Please, Baby, never be afraid to ask.”
“We would do anything for you,” Wooyoung places his hand upon your shoulder, thumb caressing your skin lightly.
“All we want is to make you happy,” Jongho smiles softly.
“We love you, Starlight,” Mingi leans his head forward to rest his forehead against your own. “Please, never forget that.”
This time when tears spring to your eyes, it’s for a completely different reason. Now, you cannot help the way your chest floods with warmth, an undeniable happiness flooding your veins as your heart positively sings inside your chest.
“My Kings,” you melt into their embrace, a tender pull to your lips upwards as nothing but affection drips within your gaze. “I love you, too.”
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tsunami-of-tears · 3 months
Text
A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Nine
Azriel x Aurora (OC)
Summary: Cute mating bond fluff and chafing. Most filler chapter. 
A/N: SHE’S BACK!! Sorry for the hiatus - I’ve been struggling since the holidays. It’s been hard to get back into it, I lost my uncle recently so I think there will be some self-insert to come.
Wordcount: 900 
Warnings: Fluff, slight angst/pining, sexual themes
Part Eight
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧
Azriel
It’s just past dawn when Azriel slips back into bed, the dim morning sun illuminates the room in a hazy glow. Aurora stirs, reaching out for him. 
“Where’d you go?” she asks sleepily.
Azriel sinks into the warmth and wraps his arms and wings around Aurora - in both protection and comfort. “I had some business to attend to, I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Aurora gently grabs Azriel’s bandaged hand. “Who did you beat up?” she questions, turning her head to look into his eyes. 
“No one that didn’t deserve it,” Azriel answers, kissing Aurora tenderly on her forehead.
Aurora sighs, relaxing further into Azriel’s chest. “Are we training with the others today?”
“I planned to give you some time off, I don’t want you to push yourself.”
“I know, but it gives me something to focus on. It helps to channel everything more healthily.” 
Azriel rests his chin against the top of Aurora’s head and sighs deeply. He completely understands where she’s coming from, but in the same breath - his protective instincts were firing and he didn’t want to put her at risk. 
“How about we train together, just the two of us? That way, you won’t lose any progress and I won’t worry so much.”
“Okay, deal,” Aurora agrees.
———— 
The next few days were like a dream. 
No, they were better than anything Azriel could have dreamed up. He had his mate, and she was everything and more than he’d ever hoped for. 
Their days were split between exercising and lounging around together - either chatting or simply enjoying each other’s presence. 
Azriel taught Aurora new fighting techniques and after, she taught him new yoga poses. 
With all the training, Azriel was working one muscle harder than the rest - his self-control. 
Gods…
The way she moved, how she looked up at him with those big beautiful eyes and that innocent little smile. 
Azriel had never yearned for someone like this. 
Still, there was one thought that played over and over in his mind. ‘It could have been worse.’
Azriel guessed what Aurora meant by that, but he wasn’t sure Prythian would still exist if his worst fears were confirmed. 
Regardless of that glowing thread and the tug in his chest, Azriel would wait for Aurora to make the first move. He’d rather go without those touches forever than push her too far, away from him.
———— 
Aurora 
Ever since the mating bond snapped into place, Azriel had barely left your side. And, he’d never pushed for more intimacy than you were ready for. You truly didn’t understand how you got so lucky, but you thanked the Cauldron every day.
Helion, your uncle, was staying in Velaris to assist in your magic training, alongside Rhys and Amren. 
It was strange to spend time with Helion knowing the truth of your heritage, you wondered how you never noticed the resemblance. It seemed so obvious now. It was bittersweet - you were grateful to have him in your life again but it made you wish you’d had more time with both of your parents.
Once you understood how your powers worked and what they could do beyond creating light - it was much easier to start to harness them. It wasn’t long until you were breaking small wards created by your High Lord and his Second. 
As well as spell-cleaving, you discovered your magic made a great shield - one that could protect you from even the harsh blast of a Siphon. With your budding confidence and your growing grasp of your powers - everyone agreed it was time to rejoin Valkyrie training. 
———— 
Despite the cold wind rushing around you, you felt warm and at peace. You always did with Azriel. In his arms, you soar above Velaris, making your way to the House of Wind for training. Your first training session with the group since the bond snapped.
You hadn’t seen much of Cassian or Nesta in that time, and you were worried they’d been avoiding you since you revealed your powers. 
That worry faded quickly, as you’re met with big smiles from everyone. 
Cassian steps forward, moving closer to you and Azriel. “Good to see you, Rory. Let’s see if you’ve kept Az in shape.” Cassian smirks at you and playfully slaps Azriel on the chest. Azriel straightens his back and his wings flare slightly, making him appear even taller. 
You glance between the males, and you scrunch your nose, slightly confused. “What do you mean?” You question. “We’ve been training every day.” 
“Training eh, is that what you call it?” Cassian chuckles. 
Wings flare, and glowing beams of red and blue flash in front of you. The movement stops as Azriel pins Cassian to the ground on his back. Cassian raises his hands, conceding defeat. “I’m sorry Az, chafing much?” he laughs.
Azriel glares as he offers Cassian his hand, helping him to his feet.
From beside you, Nesta rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest. “Illyrian brutes,” she mutters.
Cassian turns to address the group, “Okay, let's warm up and then Rory, you can show us what you’ve learnt in your special training.” One glance at Azriel’s face has Cassian backtracking and raising his palms again, “Oh no, Az, I meant the training with Helion. I promise I won’t joke again.” 
The remark makes Nesta scoff, and the pair begin bickering. You smile softly and look up at your mate. Love pours down the bond in both directions. It took a while, but you’ve finally found your family. Both of you have.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧
Tags ♡ @mis-lil-red
Part Ten
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star-girl69 · 1 year
Text
Ultraviolence
Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader
—-
a/n: i LOOVVVEEE natalie i had to so i hope you all enjoy!!
also- send me a private message, an ask, or leave a comment if you want to be apart of the taglist!
warnings: mentions of blood and death, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!
Chapter One - Deadly Nightshade
Chapter One - Deadly Nightshade
—-
Growing up with a botanist for a mother, you were used to the smell of dirt, to the feel of leaves on your skin. Unwillingly, names and characteristics of every plant in your mother’s greenhouse had been drilled into your brain since childhood.
But, there was this sort of magic that surrounded deadly nightshade. Atropa belladonna, or deadly nightshade, is a toxic plant you can draw from memory. There’s just something so magical about the mirror-black berries, the soft green stems and leaves. Like there’s been this sheen covering the plant every since your childhood. Your eyes are drawn to it.
It’s just this small plant, that sprouts these beautiful berries. It is seemingly safe- harmless. When you let your guard down and pop that berry into your mouth, feel it explode between your teeth, and that is when the poison starts. It’s been weaved into the fabric of the known world- used in stories, warned about in cautionary tales.
You’ve always felt this kinship with that plant, like you came from the same place, learned your lessons from the same teachers.
You are deadly and you are nightshade. You are a botanist’s daughter, an aspiring journalist, and a student at Wiskayok High School.
—-
1996-
Everyone was shouting and screaming. Not only the players on the team, but the crowd who has gathered to watch, cheering and yelling and whistling.
“Allie! Allie, Allie!” one of them shouted, trying to get the ball from her. You looked up from your notebook, watching as the girl in question- Allie, Number Eleven- tried to maneuver past a girl from the opposing team. But, she was still a freshman, still had so much to learn, so the other team took the ball.
You sighed, heavily. Sports weren’t the most fascinating thing in the world, but as a member of the school paper, you had been assigned to track their progress all season. Everyone had known from the beginning that these were the type of girls who were going to win. They were champions. They were going to nationals.
You’d found yourself becoming emotionally invested in the team, feeling sad when they lost, happy when they won. But something about the way the girls just moved together, the way they were interconnected- not only was it a way to spend your day, work your way up the school paper hierarchy- but something fun to watch.
Another girl, her curly brown hair pulled back by a bandana- Taissa, Number Eight- shot forward with more determination that ever. Like a bullet, set on her target, she whizzed through the air- a straight shot, the line came to you. You struggled to both write that down and pay attention to the game. Soon enough, the ball was back into the Yellowjacket’s feet.
An uptick in the cheering. Another note in your notebook.
Taissa passed it to Shauna, Number Six, who got it around a small cluster of the other team. The white and black of the ball barely visible through the red of the other team. After a moment of bated breath, she passes the ball back to Taissa, safely around the swarm of red jerseys.
Parts of soccer felt like just a fight for the ball. Like the ball was already the trophy, and they had to keep it safe from anyone who would try to steal it.
“Tai! Tai!” Jackie, Number Nine, shouted. Taissa glanced upwards, waited until Jackie had ran forward enough, then kicked the ball with such a ferocity that you could barely see it arc through the air.
Finally, it met it’s mark, and collided with Jackie’s head.
You could hear a few gasps, but this was all apart of the plan.
Besides, the gasps turned into cheers when the ball rolled past the goalie, safely delivered into the net. They had kept the trophy. And they were going to nationals.
—-
2021-
“Have a nice day!”
The smile was fake. The voice was too. But the customer gave you a tight-lipped smile back, muttering “you too”, before grabbing her bags and hurrying off.
You wanted to take your break, sit down and rest your aching ankle for just a moment, but there was one more customer in your line.
The grocery store was a boring job. It was a Whole Foods, on the outskirts of New York City, just a few blocks away from your apartment.
After the plane crash, you tried to go back to your hometown. You tried to be close to the trees and the grass. But you found that you couldn’t. A second too long, a moment that you spent thinking, and suddenly it was the wilderness again.
Suddenly, your backyard was full of pits with spikes, tree stumps, and so, so much blood.
Two minutes too long in Central Park- and suddenly you were trapped in the forest again, a burning plane next to you, and screaming all around.
“Good morning,” the woman smiled. She set a chocolate candy bar on the conveyor belt, and you smiled and reached over to grab it.
“Good morning. Did you find everything okay today?”
The woman nods and makes a “mhm” sound. You can feel her eyes on you, and it’s no surprise when she says-
“Are you Y/N L/N?”
Sometimes, someone obsessed with the plane crash will find you. They’ll come to your house, to your job, and you tell them the same thing you told the reporters. They always seem so sad. They always think they were the first person to find you, to ask you.
So, you pat their back and say you wish you could tell them more- but all you did was scavenge and starve. And to the world, that’s all you did. But the ones that are left know the truth.
“Yes,” you say, trying to keep the polite smile on your face. You scan the chocolate bar. “Will that be all?”
“I’m Jessica Roberts. Star-Ledger.” She almost seems a little- apologetic. Sheepish, but this is the act they all put on, their little journalist show, that they all forget you know as well. “I wanted to call you, but you don’t seem to have a number, hm?”
“I’m not interested in talking to anyone. There’s books and magazines and newspapers, please just look at those. Now, will that be all?”
You place the chocolate bar in front of her with perhaps more force than is necessary. She glances down at it.
She has tan, dark skin, and short curly black hair. She’s quite pretty, but you’ve developed a distaste for reporters and journalists.
“Y/N-”
“I’m very sorry I can’t help you with that. Will you be paying with cash or card?”
She sighs, and digs through the pocket of her green jacket, taking out a brown wallet. She starts to take out a five dollar bill, but stops. She looks up, and her eyes meet yours.
“I don’t need help, Y/N. I’m looking to help you.”
You flipped the light switch on your station, showing that you were closed. You looked back down at the money, waiting for it expectantly. They were usually this persistent, but something about this woman made you want to get away.
“I know you’ve been letting other people tell your story. People who barely knew you. And they’re making a lot of money doing it.”
“I’m doing fine with money, thank you, besides for the $2.25 you owe right now.”
She smiles. “Five minutes.”
“$2.25.”
“If you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”
You sigh, and your look out the window, spotting the planter tree in the sidewalk.
It starts to twist. The bark turns darker. The branches start to move in odd ways, odd ways that can’t be explain by the wind. The darker bark can’t be explain by a shadow or a cloud.
The wilderness is in you. And sometimes it comes out.
Before you know what you’re doing, you’ve grabbed the money from her hand, pressed the cash button the screen, and dumped her change into her awaiting hand.
You look up at her slightly shocked face, but she recovers quickly.
“Alright. I get it. But think about it.” She produces a card from her other pocket. “Call me if you change your mind.”
“Have a nice day!” you say through gritted teeth.
She smiles.
And when you look over, the tree on the sidewalk looks how it did before. The wilderness is gone, for now, but it always comes back.
—-
1996-
The locker room is alight with a sort of electricity. A song plays through a small speaker, and Shauna primps her hair, while Taissa ties her shoes, completing the uniform.
With nationals comes a lot of recognition. The pep rally today is for them, not some stupid football team. You think back snarkily to Gordon River, the journalist who covers the Wiskayok football team, and how pissed off he must be.
“Hey, yeah!” the song rings out. “I want to shoop, baby!”
The girls start to join in, singing along with bright smiles borne from what can only be victory.
“Girls, what’s my weakness?”
“Men!” they all shout, and you smile as you look over your notes from the game, thinking already about how to weave it all into a story.
“Okay then, chillin’, chillin’, minding my business- Yo, Salt, I looked around and I couldn’t believe this- I swear, I stares, my niece my witness- The brother had it goin’ on with somethin’ kind of uh- Wicked, wicked, had to kick it-”
You look up at the girls in front of you, Lottie dancing off around you, watching Taissa, Natalie, Shauna, and Laura Lee sing to each other.
You smile and walk off, hearing the song end and the girls all erupt into shouts and cheers. You turn the corner, bringing your notebook to your chest, watching Van and Lottie stare at themselves in the mirror.
“Does someone wanna tell Kelly Kapowski to maybe worry less about prom and more about not fucking up nationals?” Lottie asks, fluffing up her hair while Van makes a mustache with a piece of her ponytail.
Taissa moves around you, leaning in front of the mirror to fix her own hair.
“Oh, come on,” she says.
“If she plays like she did at states…” Lottie continues.
“Don’t worry,” Taissa says, standing up and crossing her hands. The girls in the mirror all look to her. “That’s not gonna happen.”
Then, she simply walks off.
—-
“Hey, Misty,” you smile, coming to stand next to her. The boys portion of the pep rally is ending, the speaker encouraging everyone to clap- but that’s not why this crowd is here.
“Hi!” she says, her blonde curls bouncing, smiling wide.
The crowd claps sparsely, and the boys all stand there looking rather awkwardly.
Misty was- something. You weren’t really sure what she officially did, but she supported the team with her entire heart. The boys slowly filed off of the gym floor.
“Now, our next act needs so introduction.” Misty started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “So let’s all just make some noise for your New Jersey State Girls’ Soccer Champions!”
You tucked your notebook to your chest so you could clap, while Misty kept bouncing and then shouting and cheering louder then anyone else. You smiled a little bit, admiring her dedication and enthusiasm.
The girls ran out onto the gym floor, and you took mental notes of how much louder and happier the crowd was. Even the mascot of the school came out, a cartoonish bee, encouraging the crowd to cheer louder, more.
Misty started chanting “buzz, buzz, buzz!” Which was the official chant of the team. They were called the Yellowjackets, so bees and buzzing made sense.
The girls all filed into a line, some clapping, some smiling- some more genuine then others- but all of them basking in the glory of victory. It was a good look, you had to admit. The title of your small little column on the paper came to you now-
Yellowjackets: Burning Bright in Victory
—-
190 notes · View notes
imagines--galore · 2 months
Text
||Mind Over Matter|| Part Twelve
Summary: Evelyn is Penelope Garcia’s protégé. She is a tech wiz, and knows her way around any kind of security and just like her mentor knows  how to dig deep and get into the past of anyone and has a knack for   anything with a chip in it. Including potato chips. The one thing she fails at is figuring out is the mind and how it works.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Evelyn Richardson(OC)
Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. Family. Some language, blood and violence in later installments.
Previously - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven,
A/N: Alright so their thoughts will be revealed a little at a time. I had a bit of a brainstorm about it all and decided to do it at a later date. In the meanwhile I hope you enjoy this chapter! It follows the Fisher King episodes. And with this chapter we shall officially start with Season 2 of the series! :) Hope you enjoy!
Takes place during Episode 22, Season 1 & Episode 1, Season 2
"So since you won't be allowed any cell service, no contact or anything for the next few days, please please, be careful." Evelyn smothered a smile as she turned her back to her mentor while she placed another set of clothes into her suitcase. She glanced over her shoulder to watch Penelope standing at the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.
"Penny, I'll be fine! I'll get the job done, get some extra cash, come back and spend it on some new baking equipment, if I don't already have it." The red head trailed off as she stared into the distance, thinking of all the shiny new things she'd buy. Her mentor however seemed to still be concerned about the no contact issue.
"Just be careful sweetie. I won't be there to watch your back you know that." The blonde pursed her lips, looking rather miffed about the fact. Evelyn nodded.
"Don't worry I will. Scout's honor!" Her words, and the salute seemed to reassure Penelope as she reached out to place a loud kiss to the shorter girl's cheek, prompting her to scrunch her features in mock playfulness.
"Have fun then honey." She said as she pulled back. "Show them what your mentor has been teaching you."
Her protégé gave a nod and a confident smile. "I'll make you proud Penelope!"
                                              ————————–
Pursing his lips Reid stood at the elevator door of the bullpen, watching as Evelyn said her goodbyes to the rest of the Team. He'd offered to see her off, one that she'd about to decline at first but sensing the urgency in his tone had given in and nodded. Now as he watched her approach him, slinging her bag over her shoulder he couldn't help but feel that this was a bad idea.
"Ready to see me off Spencer?" She asked, once she reached him. He nodded reaching out to press the elevator button. If Evelyn noticed his silence, she didn't comment on it. The two stepped into the elevators, standing inches apart. After the elevator began its descent. Still neither spoke.
Finally Reid cleared his throat. "I'm going to Vegas during our two week break." They still had a week till their vacation, but already most of them had made plans. Evelyn turned to raise an eyebrow at him, smiling slightly.
"Vegas?" Realization dawned and she smirked. "Awfully close to L.A. isn't it Spencer?" The teasing tone of her voice had him giving her a glare, to which she quickly raised her hands in a surrendering motion.
"Its nothing like that Evelyn. Nothing could've ever happened between us. Besides its been months." The red head looked sheepish and slightly nervous at his tone. Unconsciously she took a step away from her teammate, something that Reid noticed and instantly felt bad for snapping at her.
"Sorry, won't mention it again." The red head quickly stepped out of the elevator once the doors opened with Reid following after her. He was about a foot or so behind her when he suddenly reached out to catch her wrist, just as they stepped outside the building. Evelyn glanced up at him in surprise and astonishment. Reid understood her emotions. He never liked touching people. Especially their hands. Granted it was her wrist, it was still some skin.
"I'm sorry for snapping. I'm just…" He trailed off as words failed him, though his mouth remained open. Though there was confusion in her gaze, the red head still managed to smile. Her hand moved to grip his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
"I don't know what it is you have to tell me Spence. And I don't care if you don't tell me." Her words made him lower his head, half with embarrassment, half from shame. Squeezing his hand once more, she urged him to look at her, by tilting her head down to meet his gaze. She said something that was drowned out by the sound of an approaching car. She spoke so softly. But as he watched her walk away to the car that came to pick her, he couldn't help but feel an ounce of strength settle within him as he watched the memory of her replay in the back of his head for the rest of the day.
"I'm here for you, Spence."
Settling into the car, Evelyn looked out of the tinted windows, smiling at the sight of her friend still standing there. Wishing she could wave to him, or even give him a big hug, she settled for a quick press of her hand against the cool glass. Though not the hand that had just held his. That hand was squeezed shut, still feeling warm from having gripped his for more then a few seconds.
And Evelyn wanted to relish warmth that made her smile all through the ride, a soft look in her blue gaze.
                                              ————————–
"The youngest has the key." JJ muttered under her breath as she stood in front of the evidence board gazing at the aforementioned key as it lay in the evidence bag.
"I don't get it. The youngest out of all of us is Evelyn." The media liaison continued, glancing up at Reid in slight confusion. It was Morgan who answered.
"Since Giles hacked into the systems, and had all our locations and addresses it would explain how the Unsub knew to send it to Reid instead of Evelyn." Reid pursed his lips, briefly wondering how things would be if Evelyn were here.
"Probably why he didn't mention her in his video either. Since she is a part of the Team and everything." Elle commented, trying her best to fight the heaviness that made her eyelids droop every few seconds.
Hotch, who had just walked in after talking to Gideon, sat in his chair, picking up a file. "Well she is safe, which is a good thing." Their superior muttered, his attention already on the papers within the file.
"Either he has no interest in her or he just decided that she shouldn't be part of the quest." The words were followed by a sound of chair scraping against the floor as Morgan stood to get himself some coffee.
"Lets hope it's both." The entire Team lifted their heads to glance at the person who'd spoken, surprised by the relief in the tone. Oblivious to the looks, Reid stood in front of the board, arms crossed, a slight frown on his face as he regarded the clues they'd already put up on the board.
                                                 ————————–
As Elle stepped into her house, she was greeted by the sight of an unexpected figure waiting for her.
"Evelyn? What're you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be away on the secret assignment." She could see the younger woman hadn't slept properly in days. There were bags under her eyes, and her hair was in complete disarray, some strands even falling out of her pony tail. Evelyn nodded.
"I was! But then I got this letter saying you'd been arrested and were put under house arrest as soon as you came back from Jamaica. The assignment finished early and I came home as soon as I could." Her worry was laced in her voice as she watched the other woman collapse into the window seat, exhausted.
"I wasn't." The red head quickly moved to sit down beside Elle.
Her tone was equal parts worried and curious as she asked. "Whats going on Elle?"
Elle glanced at her friend and despite wanting to explain everything, another wave of exhaustion hit her and she had to prevent herself from falling forward onto the floor. "I want to explain everything Eve, really I do, but I haven't slept in nearly two days. I gotta sleep. Why don't you go down to the office? They'll explain everything." Evelyn bit her lower lip before nodding.
"Alright. I'll go there right now. You get some sleep then." The red head quickly stood and made her way to the front door, seeing as Elle had entered form the backdoor.
"Thanks." Elle called, prompting the other girl to glance over her shoulder have a parting smile and wave, disappearing from sight around the corner. Elle moved to lay her head on one of the pillows, sighing in relief as she allowed the tiredness she'd been holding at bay to take complete hold of her. Elle having been half-asleep hadn't heard the thud of the body hitting the floor.
Neither Agents were aware of another presence in the house. One that held a gun in one hand, and a syringe that was now empty as he stared at the unmoving figure of Agent Evelyn Richardson on the floor.
                                                 ————————–
The remaining Agents of the BAU quickly made their way to the phone at Agent Greenaway's desk.
"Gideon." The man spoke as a way of greeting as soon as he had pressed the button.
"What I had to do was not my fault." The voice was hoarse, gravelly as it came through the speakers.
"Excuse me?" Gideon cut in, obviously a little confused. And afraid.
"It was distasteful and barbaric." The man on the other line continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted.
"Who is this?" Gideon demanded, his tone authoritative.
"No one else had to be hurt." Hotch frowned at how almost desperate the other person sounded.
"Call yourself 'The Fisher King'?"
"I told you there were rules."
"I'm actually more interested in exactly how you got all those burns." Gideon retorted, though the man wasn't thrown off by the rapid questioning.
"Remember this next time you decide to step outside my instructions. Agent Greenaway did not have to die like that." Alarmed looks passed between the four people standing around the phone, which instantly gave way to worry.
But the Unsub wasn't finished.
"And do not worry about Agent Richardson." A deathly silence followed the man's words. "She is safe. For now." He continued. "But if you break the rule one more time, I cannot guarantee her safety. Or her life."
The line went dead.
"He has her?! He has Evelyn?!" Penelope nearly shrieked almost instantly, eyes wide and tearful as she did her best to keep her voice down. Gideon instantly met Hotch's gaze and the two nodded before the latter spoke.
"This conversation never happened." His words caused both Reid and Garcia to stare at him in bewilderment, though Reid's shifted to one of understanding.
Garcia, however, demanded answers. "What?"
Hotch lowered his voice as he spoke. "If anyone outside of our team even finds out about Evelyn being kidnapped, they will take us off the case." Reid nodded in agreement, pursing his lips.
"But-"
"If that happens, he will kill Evelyn." There was something resembling resignation in the young genius's tone as he spoke. Garcia didn't speak this time, simply nodding.
"We need to go and check on Elle. Reid? Garcia? Find the book, unscramble that code. Hotch and I will go to Elle's place right now. We'll contact JJ and Morgan on the way."
With that the four of them split, fear and worry gripping their hearts as they did. Though other emotions seemed to be at the forefront as well. 
Anger. Despair. Sorrow. Love.
                                              ————————–
Elle had been shot and was fighting for her life. At least they knew where she was and how she was doing. Evelyn on the other hand. The thought of the red head caused Morgan to shoot past yet another signal, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. JJ reached out to lay a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder, which the other Agent barely acknowledged as they both drove back to the BAU, having gotten the information that they needed. There were tears in JJ's eyes, which she did her best to keep at bay as she thought of her two friends. Two of the most amazing people she had met. One of whom she was much closer to then the other. At the thought of the red head JJ heaved a shuddering breath, thinking back on the very long and deep conversation she had had with her once they'd gotten back from Los Angeles. They could only hope they would be able to catch the son of a bitch and make him pay for what he had done.
                                              ————————–
In a dark room eyelids fluttered as they finally opened. Only to be met with a pitiful sight. Blurriness all around her. Someone had taken her glasses. A low groan fell from her lips as, with trembling arms, she pushed herself to sit up.
"Are you alright?" Eyes that could barely make out anything in the dark, flickered in the direction of the voice. "Whose there?" Her voice was hoarse from lack of use.
"I'm Rebecca." The words were followed by a series of coughs, ones that made Evelyn flinch with worry. "I'm a prisoner like you." The voice responded. Her heart plummeted in her stomach and her hands trembled. Pushing herself up from the bed she was laying on the red head raised a hand to her forehead and cradled it there, trying to get her bearings.
"My glasses…." Evelyn trailed off once the other girl responded. "You didn't have any when you came in." Disappointment flooded her as she sighed. Her bag wasn't around her body, neither was her badge in her pocket. She could only assume the person who had knocked her out had taken it.
Finally gaining some semblance of normalcy the red head reached a reassuring hand out to the girl, which she felt her take. "Don't worry Rebecca. My friends will find us." The girl let out an almost relieved whimper as she allowed her head to rest on Evelyn's shoulder. Evelyn nearly jumped at the heat that was radiating off the girl. Clearly she was very very sick. As the girl sobbed, Evelyn wrapped her arm around her, pulling her close to provide warmth to her shivering frame, hoping and praying for her Team to find her soon.
                                              ————————–
Hotch walked in with a cup of coffee. His third one in the last two hours. But he wasn't keeping count. He was more worried about his team. One of which was lying open on an operating table and fighting for her life. The other who was missing. He briefly wondered how Evelyn would've been taken away from her assignment when it was so heavily guarded. The voice message he had played once his phone had re-charged explained everything. Apparently she had finished early and the hysteric voice of his youngest team member was still echoing in his ear as she demanded to know what had happened to Elle in Jamaica. Since her cell was still confiscated, she didn't have any other number memorized and had called him. Hotch was ready to kick himself. If he had gotten to her in time, she wouldn't have been taken like she was. As he began another trip around the waiting room, he passed Gideon who was lost in his own thoughts which were a mix between a strong brown haired woman and a shy yet eager red head, one smiling confidently at him, the latter with a smile of her own. Though this one was of happiness and relief. A smile she'd worn when Gideon decided to listen to her story and offer his help with her sister. He hoped he wouldn't fail her. That he could still save her.
                                              ————————–
"So you've been here for two years?" Evelyn asked, her voice low as she did, not wanting any hidden microphones to hear her. She felt Rebecca nod.
"Yeah, I was sixteen when I decided to ran away from my adopted parents. I didn't know a week of being away would turn to years." A small sob escaped the distress girl. In the time they had been sitting together, Evelyn had managed to coax the girl into eating a little bit of chicken their captor had brought. And though her vision was blurry and unfocused she still managed to see where they were.
And having someone explain to her didn't hurt.
"As soon as we get out of here, we'll get you a good doctor." The red head could only reassure the younger girl, though as night fell outside she could feel an inkling of worry and doubt settle into the pit of her stomach as well, prompting her to bite her lower lip on more then one occasion. Her head was aching from her lack of glasses and she could feel her own hunger pangs starting to become unbearable. But she didn't want to eat. Not when someone as sick as Rebecca needed all the strength she could get. Though it had been hours since the red head had had anything to eat.
As Rebecca was hit with another bought of coughs, all Evelyn could do was hold her trembling frame, trying to steady her frail weak figure.
                                              ————————–
As he sat in around the table in the evidence room, Reid couldn't help but go through all the information he had written to his mother in those letters. There was just so much. And most of it wasn't even information. They were just random facts and thoughts about him and his work, the books he read, and of course his team. He'd talked about his team a lot. Stating their likes and dislikes, their hopes and dreams at times. Even future plans. Cases. He pursed his lips as Evelyn came to mind. He'd, of course, spoken about her to his mother, why wouldn't he? She was one of his closest friends. They shared an understanding when it came to social norms and such. Though he was more likely to seclude himself away on purpose, Evelyn was mostly painfully shy. A quality he had always found endearing. Sighing he ran a hand down his face just as Penelope entered the room as well. The two shared a brief look, with the latter conveying her understanding of his distress. She was the only one who knew about his mother so far. But Reid had a feeling they would all know soon enough. And as Penelope prayed and prayed for both Elle and Evelyn's safe return Reid couldn't help but blame himself for what had happened so far.
                                              ————————–
She was safe. Evelyn was safe. She was safe and in his arms.
The fire raged behind him as all of them quickly ran out of the house and onto the road. Hotch was calling for another ambulance as well as a fire truck, while Morgan was keeping a firm grip on Rebecca as he made his way to the ambulance that was already there.
Evelyn was clutching Reid as he made his way towards one of the cars they'd arrived in, opening the front door to seat her inside. "I'm alright Spence." The red head reassured the blurry figure of her friend as he looked her over for any injuries. She was only covered in soot and her cardigan was gone from where she had draped it over Rebecca to keep her warm. Otherwise the red head was fine. Her skin felt itchy and she knew that was from the soot and smoke. Suddenly everything came into view as her glasses slid back into their place. Evelyn blinked as she focused on Spencer's face and how close it was to her own. They held one another's gaze for a good few seconds, with Spencer's hands cradling her head, and her own gripping his wrists as if to reassure herself that he was there. That this wasn't a dream.
Spencer shifted forward, mouth opening to say something when he grimaced and hissed. Instantly the moment was broken to be replaced by worry on Evelyn's part as she watched her team member glance down at his thigh which looked like it was….
                                              ————————–
"Burnt! Spencer, you were hurt and you just stood there to make sure I was alright." Evelyn's voice was chiding as she stood in front of him. Having been declared fit to go, the red head had raced through a shower and change of clothes after which she'd arrived at the office, only to be smothered by an ecstatic Penelope and JJ. Gideon had smiled at her, as had Hotch. Morgan had been the one to sweep her up in a hug that could rival Penelope's. And after being assured of Elle's condition, Spencer had offered to get her a sandwich from the office canteen. Penelope, had demanded Morgan tell her everything that had happened and dragged him off to her office to repair and talk. Gideon and Hotch walked off to recount everything that had happened to their Superiors, while JJ held a press conference.
"It was the least I could do Evelyn. You were kidnapped because of me." The other agent replied as they slowly made their way towards the room where the Team met for cases. The red head, having inhaled her sandwich only sighed.
"Spence, it wasn't your fault. And Elle is fine, and I know she wouldn't want you to blame yourself for this. This was out of our hands." Reaching the door of the conference room, Evelyn stopped short, reaching out to gently and tentatively take his hand just as she had done when she left a week ago.
"Look at me." Her voice was soft and pleading, prompting his eyes to meet hers. She smiled at him as her other hand came up to reassuringly place a hand to the side of his face. "Elle is going to be fine Spence. And I'm fine too. See? Not a scratch?" Her hair had been wet when she'd stepped out of her shower, so she'd left them open. And without the severe grip of her pony tail, Spencer could see more of that softness in her that she possessed. Finally sighing the man gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile before it dropped and he wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Evelyn gasped in surprise, her arms being pressed to his chest. It took a brief second of her surprise to disappear before she simply snuggled into the embrace, her arms shifting to wrap around his middle, her face buried in his chest, glasses digging into her skin, but she didn't care. Not when the worry and fear of the day was finally starting to slowly disappear from her mind. Little did she know, Spencer was drawing the same comfort from her. Allowing himself to feel the relief that broke inside him like a dam as he held her close.
Diana Reid glanced behind her son at the woman who had just entered.
"Mother? I'd like you to meet someone." He sounded almost nervous as he spoke. And Evelyn felt just as much as she stepped forward once Spencer motioned for her to do so.
"Mother, this is-"
But his mother cut him off. "Evelyn." Both agents blinked not having expecting for Evelyn to be recognized so easily. Diana Reid stood up from her seat on the couch and smiled at the two.
"You didn't think I wouldn't recognize her did you Spence? Hair redder then a ruby, was that how you described her?" His cheeks flushed at his mother's words, while Evelyn's eyes widened behind her wide-framed glasses and she made a face at her friend.
"You compared me to a stone?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Your hair." Her friend was quick to correct her. Evelyn rolled her eyes.
"Whats next? You comparing my eyes to a sapphire?" Spencer looked like he was about to retort but was cut off by his mother.
"A Lapis Lazuli actually."
"Mother!" His voice was more of a squeak then anything as Evelyn stared at Spencer in disbelief. Diana Reid frowned.
"Was that supposed to be a secret? You certainly described her perfectly." His mother's words had a blush creeping up Evelyn's cheek as she stepped out from behind Spencer and gave the woman a sweet smile.
"Its nice to meet you Mrs Reid." The older woman smiled back. "Likewise Evelyn. I would love to stay and chat but I believe I have a small lecture to give." Seeing the slightly crestfallen look the girl wore, Diana continued with a reassuring smile.
"Spencer? Bring Evelyn the next time you come and visit me. I would very much like to have a long chat with her. And perhaps she can bring me some of her famous cookies?" At the mention of her baked good the red head beamed with pride.
"I'll bring a whole batch for you Mrs Reid." The red head said eagerly as she stepped forward. Spencer could only stare, gob smacked.
He had never seen Evelyn warm up to someone so easily.
Still he couldn't help the warm feeling of happiness that rose in his chest as he watched the two women interact and smile at one another. He had always written to his mother how he knew Evelyn and her would get along well. And it seemed he wasn't wrong.
And neither was Diana it seemed. Despite her illness, she had always known there was something else her son wasn't telling her about Evelyn. Something, perhaps, even he didn't know yet. But looking at how he was watching Evelyn as she turned to tell him excitedly of the assignment she had just finished, Diana couldn't help but note the affection the two seemed to hold for each other in their eyes.
An affection she had only ever read about in the love poems of great writers.
It almost felt as if she were seeing something that would overcome a great many other quests.
And Diana Reid couldn't wait to read about it in the letters her son would write her.
                                              ————————–
Tag List - @kathaaaaaaa @lovelyygirl8,
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euphoniumpets · 1 year
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THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM | CHAPTER SEVEN
Prompt: ''As long as I can rememer, I've been protecting Alina, it's always Alina who I will protect,'' You told him, looking at Nikolai. ''But who will protect you?''
Warnings: Violence, blood and gore.
Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. 
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Starkov! Reader
Taglist: @lyria-skyfall@khaleesihavilliard@shine101 @waddlingwanderer @clqudias @ducks118 @xceafh@peakyispunk @wilmasvensson @parbatai-winchester @priincehoseok@riot-in-my-soulsoul @feyredarling92 @vendy021 @ssprayberrythings @goldenpoison @shine101 @lili-of-the-dream @xushisuxi @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @jennylil @themermaidscales82
Tag list are closed!
A/N: we've come to a conclusion or a thought where I decide to write smut further in the chapters but i need y'all votes because i'm hesitant if you guys want smut further in the chapters lmao. and again, this is a long chapter because i got carried away.
old masterlist | navi | new masterlist
prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - epilogue
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You hated it. 
Oh, so you desperately hated it. 
You could feel every person in the room giving you looks and you didn’t know if it was a good one or a bad one. ‘’Why must you always play the diplomat, Nikolai?’’ You heard Vasily's question at the table. ‘’A shu and Grisha dining beside true Ravkan soldiers is a bit much for all our stomachs,’’ Vasily remarked. 
‘’We’re all Ravkan here,’’ You sneered and tried to be calm. ‘’Doesn’t need to be us versus them,’’ Nikolai replied and looked at his brother. ‘’Kirigian should’ve thought of that,’’ Vasily replied with his drink in hand. ‘’Before he tried to murder my father and stage a coup, that said: absent they're Darkling the Grisha are rather easy to manage,’’
‘’By manage do you mean execute: Moi tsarevich?’’ You asked boldly and turned your head to face him. ‘’That fate is reserved for traitors to the Crown, Miss Starkov,’’ 
‘’If the second Army requires a leader loyal to the Crown to assure their fealty, my sister will lead them,’’ You remarked. You looked at Vasily as he let out a laugh. ‘’Why should I believe you and your sister that you have any loyalty to my family?’’ He asked. You paused before your eyes trailed to Nikolai. 
He met your gaze before standing up from his chair and raising a glass to get the people’s attention. ‘’Today marks the start of a new era of cooperation between Lantsov and Grisha, I’m delighted to announce my engagement to Y/N Starkov, the sister of the Sun Summoner,’’ Nikolai presented. ‘’And with her sister being the Sun Summoner, she will be the new leader of the Second Army, together we'll build a better future for Ravka,’’ 
You locked your gaze with Mal and Alina not from far away and saw their surprised gazes. They never thought that you would agree on the marriage but yet here you were. For Ravka. 
‘’That was a bit much,’’ You responded after everybody had cheered and Nikolai had sat down. 
‘’Understatement is overrated,’’ He replied as you took a sip from your drink. 
-
Alina had left with Tamar and Nadia to go and do some training. They offered to come with but you declined and told them to do some studying of the Firebird. You hoped some of the history books had the answers since you knew that Alina had to kill you to get the third amplifier. You knew that she wasn’t going to do it, but if it was your only plan, you knew that you had to do it on your own. 
You heard fast footsteps approaching you in the library. You turned around with a frown and saw Adrik approaching you. ‘’I know, not to be disturbed, but they need you in the war room,’’ Adrik informed and you nodded. You placed the books down and followed after him. 
You stopped in your tracks when you noticed David standing with Tolya, Nikolai, Alina, Mal, Tamar, and Adrik when you recognized David. David flickered his eyes when he saw you and waved with the other hand and you noticed that his hands were tied. ‘’Oh, so you know him,’’ Nikolai replied when he noticed your gaze. ‘’He claims to have escaped from a very alive General Kirigian,’’ Nikolai revealed and approached you. You looked at Alina with a concerned gaze. ‘’He gave himself up without a struggle, we found this on him,’’ Nikolai said and handed you over the journal. ‘’He says it’s one of Morozova’s journals,’’ You grabbed the journal as Nikolai turned to face David. 
‘’I, for one, am dying to know more, but he insisted to speak with you and Alina,’’ Nikolai said. 
‘’Y/N…’’ David began to say and step forward before Tolya stopped him before he could go further. ‘’I know I wronged both of you, please I regret my role in that, I know you have a reason to distrust me, but I have no loyalty to General Kirigian,’’ David spoke. 
‘’He survived the Volcra?’’ Alina questioned him. ‘’I’m afraid so,’’ David revealed. ‘’He also knows that you both are in East Ravka,’’ David informed and you could feel your heart growing faster. You didn’t know if he found out that you were the Firebird but if he did he could find you here, you didn’t know if you were safe. ‘’Tell us where he is,’’ You demanded David. 
‘’No, no, no,’’ David replied and you narrowed your eyes. ‘’That would be a very bad idea-’’
‘’You can’t expect us to trust you unless you share information,’’ You snapped. ‘’Confronting him would be suicide,’’ David replied. ‘’Kirigian used Merzost to create something in the Fold, creatures that do his bidding the size of two men, formed of pure shadow,’’ He informed as your blood ran cold. ‘’They have no breath to take, no heart to stop, no blood to drain, yet, they live,’’ David explained. 
‘’They live and they kill,’’ 
‘’They are nichevo’ya: nothing: bullets, blades, fire, all simply pass through and they walk freely in sunlight, I fear that merzost may be the only way to kill them,’’ You looked at David and could see that he was terrified. Nikolai glanced at you and he could see the fear you formed in your eyes. ‘’So, how did you manage to get away?’’ Mal questioned. 
‘’Genya,’’ You snapped your thoughts away at the mention of Genya. ‘’We tried to escape together but the nichevo’ya,’’ David informed. ‘’She sacrificed herself to get me out,’’ A sadness washed over you for your friend. You knew how much Genya liked David back then at the Little Palace and you begged the saints that she was still alive. 
‘’I don’t know if she survived,’’
‘’A smart spy will always play the victim,’’ Tolya spoke and narrowed his eyes. ‘’No, no,’’ David protested and shook his head. ‘’You make a valid point, Tolya,’’ Nikolai responded before he turned to Alina. ‘’As a leader of the second army, this is your call,’’ Nikolai said. Alina looked at Nadia and gestured to come closer next to her. ‘’You’ve known David the longest, what do you think?’’
‘’Kirigian always kept him close,’’ Nadia spoke. Alina looked at you before her eyes placed on David. ‘’Take him to the holding cell,’’ Alina said as Tolya walked away with David. ‘’We need a moment alone, please,’’ Mal said and looked at Nikolai. 
Nikolai looked at the three of you as you nodded. ‘’Of course,’’ He replied before walking away, leaving the three of you alone. You let out a sigh. ‘’Do you trust him?’’ Mal asked the two of you. 
‘’I don’t know,’’ You answered. ‘’Not entirely,’’ Alina added. ‘’The shadow monsters…’’ Mal trailed off as you thought for a moment. ‘’But why would he lie?’’ You asked them. ‘’Kirigian’s a force to be reckoned with, but if it’s true, I need to hunt the Firebird,’’ Mal responded making you look at him. 
‘’Or I can do something right now, an alternative to boost my power,’’ Alina suggested and you looked at her. ‘’Alternative?’’ You asked. ‘’He created soldiers of shadow,’’ Alina said. ‘’Maybe, maybe I can tear down the Fold by creating soldiers of light,’’ Alina informed. ‘’With what? Merzost?’’ You inquired. ‘’The Darkling messed with it and we got the Fold for 400 years,’’
‘’And now he has monsters who walk with him,’’ Alina argued. ‘’Give me time to track down the Firebird,’’ Mal said which made you sigh. ‘’There’s always a cost to merzost, it’s not worth the risk,’’
-
‘’Hey, you’re coming with us to Ketterdam?’’ You heard Tolya ask you as you approached him, Tolya, and Mal. ‘’You know I can’t, Queen duties,’’ You replied and rolled your eyes. ‘’Not going to lie, we all were surprised that you accepted the proposal,’’ Tamar spoke. ‘’Believe me, we all were,’’ You told her. 
‘’Too bad we can’t be here to see you in the dress that Nikolai had chosen,’’ Tamar replied. 
‘’Perhaps another time,’’ You responded. 
‘’You know it won’t be another time,’’ Tolya teased. ‘’Hey, now that she’s the Queen of Ravka, she’ll have to play dress up,’’ Tamar teased. 
‘’And the Queen of Ravka can hear you,’’ You responded as you gave them a look before you looked at them with a grin. 
 ‘’Be careful,’’ You told them before embracing him.
‘’Don’t worry, we will be back,’’ Tolya assured you and let go of you before walking away. ‘’And, don’t forget the snacks you’ll bring back from Shu Han!’’ You exclaimed. ‘’I can’t promise you anything,'' Tolya responded as you chuckled.
You , Mal, and Tamar said goodbye to each other as you walked back to your chambers to prepare for the ball. ‘’I hate this dress,’’ You murmured as you heard Alina chuckle. ‘’You look pretty, he has good taste,’’ Alina commented as you rolled your eyes and looked down at your dress. Nikolai had placed a dress in your room and it was uncomfortable for your liking. 
You disliked wearing pretty dresses and it was unusual for Alina to see you in one. ‘’How’s that, moy milaya? better?’’ The maid asked as you reached your arms. However, you couldn’t reach it further. ‘’Still can’t move my arms,’’ You replied softly and looked at her with a smile. ‘’I’ll get another corset,’’ She told you as you nodded. 
‘’Ugh, saints,’’ You whined. 
‘’It’s not that bad,’’ Alina replied as you turned around and looked at her and gave her a look. ‘’I can’t even breathe,’’ You complained. ‘’Well, I think you look great in that dress, you certainly look a queen,’’ Alina replied with a chuckle. ‘’Help me?’’ You asked and gestured to your back as Alina approached you. 
You heard the door open and you turned around to see Vasily. ‘’What do you want?’’ You asked. ‘’My my, Y/N, they never taught you manners did you?’’ Vasily remarked as Alina helped you undress behind the dressing room. You and Alina exchanged a look. You grabbed your coat as you stepped outside and looked at him. 
‘’I would prefer you call me Vasily,’’ He responded. ‘’At least when we’re in private,’’ He remarked after he heard you speak in Ravkan. ‘’What can I do for you, Moi Tsarevich?’’ You questioned. ‘’You call my brother by his given name,’’
‘’We met under different circumstances,’’ You explained. ‘’Yes, I’ve heard some find his whole Corsair act rather claiming,’’ He responded with a smirk, and you narrowed your eyes. ‘’If you excuse us-’’
‘’He must realize, no matter his aims, he will always be a second son,’’ He replied, and you looked at him. You felt your anger rise. ‘’Only I can make you a queen,’’ He spoke. ‘’I can assure you I have such no ambition,’’ 
‘’Is that so?’’ He questioned with a smirk. ‘’You’ve made no secret of your opinion on Grisha, why propose an alliance with me?’’ 
‘’I stand by my previous statements, the Ravkan people are fed up with being held hostage by Grisha tyrants, odds are some Grisha are good people, you could help me sort that out,’’ 
‘’Where would you find the time? Rumor has it you find yourself quite preoccupied at Caraveya, between the horse races and the brothels,’’ You replied boldly as you watched him take a step toward you with his jaw clenching. ‘’How many true allies do you have, Miss Starkov?’’ He questioned ‘’Grisha scraps with your sister being the leader of the Second Army, I imagine the Commander of the First would be a good one to keep,’’ He responded and glanced at Alina before looking at you.
‘’You’re a smart girl, consider your options,’’ He replied smugly before grabbing your hand softly and kissing at the top of your palm. ‘’Until then,’’ He spoke before leaving the room. You and Alina exchanged a look before you wiped your hand with disgust written on your face. 
-
You stared at your reflection and looked down at the dress before letting out a scoff. ‘’I take it down that you dislike the dress,’’ You heard Nikolai speak. You glanced up and saw him standing at the door frame with a smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes toward him. ‘’It’s hideous, I prefer wearing a kefta instead,’’ You spoke and turned around to face him. Nikolai chuckled and approached you. 
‘’I figured out that you would say so,’’ Nikolai replied before gesturing to the kefta he brought him with. You looked at him before letting out a grin on your face. You accepted the kefta in his hands before walking to the dressing room. You tried to get the dress off but you couldn’t reach the laces and usually, Alina would help you but she was at the party. ‘’I could use some help to undress, usually, Alina would help me but consider that she isn’t here…’’ You trailed off nervously. 
‘’Of course,’’ Nikolai replied and walked toward you. You looked in the mirror in front of you and saw him standing behind you. Your heart was beating fast when he was close to you and you could feel his fingers through the laces and you felt your cheeks warming up. You scolded yourself in your head when he was the one who made you flustered. 
You felt the laces loosen up as Nikolai met your gaze in the mirror, giving you a small smile before walking out. ‘’Some of the Grisha were kind enough to help and put this together,’’ You heard him speak as you put on the kefta. You smiled and realized that the two of you were matching before walking out. You saw Nikolai look at you with adoration in his expression while you gave a little twirl. 
‘’Well?’’ You asked. ‘’I would prefer to see you in one of the keftas instead of the pretty dresses,’’ Nikolai replied with a chuckle. ‘’I think I have just the flourish to complete the look,’’ He told you and approached you closer. ‘’Consider this as a gift,’’
You watched him grab something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw the Lantsov ring in his hand. ‘’The Lantsov Emerald,’’ You spoke and looked down. ‘’Understatement is overrated,’’ You quoted with a small smile. ‘’I love it when you quote me,’’ You just shook your head with a smile in response. 
‘’Console yourself knowing that, should you ever punch me while wearing it, you’ll probably take my eye out, and I’d very much like you to,’’ You looked at him. ‘’Wear it, that’s it, not punch me,’’ He explained as the two of you chuckled. ‘’May I?’’ He asked and you nodded. You reached your hand out and felt him grab your hand softly before placing the ringer on. ‘’I must say, this is the longest conversation we have had instead of ripping each other head’s off,’’ You spoke as you heard him laugh softly. 
‘’Indeed,’’ He spoke as the two of you walked out of the room. ‘’Your mother will not be pleased you gave this to a commoner,’’ You remarked as you stepped down the stairs. ‘’If my mother was as put off by commoners as she claims, I wouldn’t be here, now would I?’’ Nikolai retorted, making you stop. ‘’If you lead a country, you must get better at hiding what you’re thinking,’’ Nikolai spoke. 
‘’I wasn’t sure,’’ You replied as you followed after him. ‘’I heard the whispers since I was a child,’’ He replied. ‘’I’ll deny it if you repeat it, but the truth is, I couldn’t care less if I have Lantsov blood, given all the royal inbreeding, I think the bastard is probably a point in my favor,’’
‘’It’s nice when you drop the act when you’re just yourself,’’ You remarked. ‘’Was that a compliment?’’ He asked with a smirk and you just rolled your eyes. ‘’Besides, I am a prince, Y/N,’’ He remarked. ‘’Being myself is a luxury I can’t often indulge in,’’ He answered.
‘’The throne is just a prize to Vasily, like some favorite toy,’’ You replied softly before turning to face him. ‘’You, however, care about Ravka,’’ You told him, making him smile. ‘’You’d make a good king,’’ You replied. ‘’Coming from you, it means a lot,’’ He murmured and you looked into his eyes. You could see the adoration in his eyes and it made you realize that you’d fallen for him. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him considering the circumstances and you tried hard not to, knowing that your plan would involve sacrificing yourself for Alina. Nikolai met your eyes as he saw sadness flashing through your eyes before changing them. 
You hesitantly reached for his hands and he noticed the hesitation on your face before accepting it. Your heart was beating harder when you felt his touch and it was soft-spoken. ‘’You’re going to be insufferable now, aren’t you?’’ You remarked. Nikolai let out a laugh at the comment you made. 
The laugh, you thought for yourself. You stared at Nikolai with an unreadable expression on your face. It was the kind of laugh that you would bottle up and get drunk on the darkest nights. ‘’I’m already insufferable, love,’’ Nikolai retorted with a grin on his face. You chuckled as you felt him squeeze your hand before walking out to the room. 
You heard the classical music playing in the background while the massive crowd around you was chatting and drinking. ‘’I was not expecting this,’’ Nikolai murmured with the same surprise on his face. You looked around and tried to see Alina and Mal. ‘’Where’s Mal and Alina?’’ You asked him with concern. ‘’I know my company doesn’t account for much, but at least pretend to enjoy yourself,’’ Nikolai spoke. 
You gave him a look before scanning the room. ‘’I don’t see them,’’ You began to grow worried and Nikolai sensed it. ‘’Listen, I can assure you that the two of them are fine, maybe the two lovebirds are in a private room and doing saints know what,’’ You wrinkled your face in disgust before looking at him with a deadpanned expression. ‘’I did not want to hear that,’’ You muttered. ‘’After all, that gelatin deer gave its life for your entertainment,’’ Nikolai spoke and leaned to your ear. You turned your gaze and realized that he was so close to your lips and you yanked your head away from him. 
Nikolai smirked at your reaction. ‘’It’s not just like them, you know,’’ You murmured. ‘’They would be here with me, and well, watching us while teasing,’’ You remarked. ‘’You can’t fault them for being a little late,’’ Nikolai responded and looked at you. ‘’You can’t be worried about Alina and Mal, they can take care of themselves, you know?’’ Nikolai said and you sighed. ‘’I know, I’m just worried,’’ 
‘’Perhaps your loyal Sun Summoner and tracker don’t share your enthusiasm for your festivities,’’ You heard Vasily’s voice speak from behind you as you and Nikolai exchanged a look. ‘’If you excuse me, Moi Tsarevich,’’ You spoke as Nikolai nodded at you before you walked away. You sighed with frustration and walked around in the crowd trying to find Alina. However, you spotted Tamar speaking with Nadia. ‘’I guess I owe you the money,’’ You heard Tamar speak when she saw you approaching them. 
‘’What?’’ You questioned her. 
‘’We were all betting if you would choose the dress,’’ Nadia explained. ‘’Well, I guess you were wrong then,’’ You spoke and looked at Tamar. ‘’Have you seen Alina and Mal?’’ You asked Tamar with concern as Nadia went back for more champagne. ‘’Well-’’ 
‘’Y/N, have you seen Mal?’’ Alina interrupted you as you turned around. ‘’Saints, Alina, I was looking for you and Mal,’’ You replied before embracing her tightly. ‘’He’s probably late, you know,’’ Tamar spoke as she tried to assure you. You could feel that something was wrong but you tried to ignore the feeling. 
Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard Vasily speak. ‘’A toast!’’ You and Alina exchanged a look. ‘’I’d like to share some words about my brother, Nikolai,’’ Vasily spoke and pointed toward Nikolai. You narrowed your eyes. ‘’Yes, yes, we all know he’s pretentious,’’ He spoke and chuckled. ‘’Condescending, a man of the people…’’ 
You frowned when you felt a strange feeling. You could feel that something was wrong as you looked up at the ceiling glass with wonder. It was the same feeling that you felt when you and Aleksander had connected for the first time back at the Little Palace, but then you saw it. 
The shadows. ‘’Alina…’’ You spoke, making her turn to face you with confusion, and then, everything happened so fast that you didn’t have the time to react. ‘’Run!’’ You shouted at Alina when the Nichevo'ya appeared. People were screaming, several gunshots were heard and you hid behind a pole. 
You couldn’t think and you were terrified. Terrified of your own life, Nikolai, Mal, and Alina. You gasped when you saw the Nichevo'ya dragged Vasily in the air before tearing him apart. Alina used her magic as she tried to kill them but it was no use. ‘’Somebody, protect the Queen!’’ You heard one of them say. Nadia and Adrik used their powers against the Nichevo'ya and you tried to run toward Alina, however, the Nichevo'ya knocked them away. 
‘’Alina!’’ You shouted with fear and you froze in place when the Nichevo'ya turned to you. You widened your eyes as you felt your blood run cold. ‘’Y/N!’’ Alina shouted and you could see her eyes with terror when she saw the Nichevo'ya was coming for you. You felt strong arms wrapping around your waist, dragging away from Alina as Tamar and the others tried to protect her too. 
‘’Let me go! Alina!’’ You shouted. ‘’Y/N, we need to go, now!’’ Nikolai raised his voice as he tried to drag you away from there. ‘’Find Mal!’’ You tried to shout before you felt him drag you away from Alina.
-
please comment down below what you'd thought of this chapter and remember, reblogging always helps!
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trinitytrilogy · 9 months
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hi! i just noticed your patreon has no posts anymore? i don’t know much about patreon so i don’t know if that’s something that just happens but if you deleted all your posts on there, does that mean zeus’ dilemma is discontinued?
kfljdskljfk tdlr; not abandoned, i'll have a better post soon, im sorry yall :sob: i feel rly guilty, but there will be an update this month. more below the cut and tysm <3
hi! it's actually lowkey the opposite? i had a Bad Time at the start of 2023, and completely forgot like pretty much everything until i pulled myself out of that hole. i started writing again in july but i figured with the intense delay between my last post and now i should get two chapters out instead of one. anyway, chapter nine is kind of a quicker one (and i had already written the c romance lock and one of the other ro scenes, and chapter eight was previously drafted i just had to edit and add a few ro scenes spontaneously), so i figured why not. i'm also gonna release chapter five publically then, so ive been going back and making sure the first five chapters r as polished as i alone can make them.
if i simply cannot for some reason finish chapter nine by the end of this month, i'll just go ahead with posting chapter eight, so it won't be fully no updates for a while. it clocks in at about 20k words (and the parent scene is not written and will not be written), so its not unsubstantial i hope.
chapters 10&11 are both bigger than 8&9 in theory, but ive already written the romance locks for k&a (which take place in those chapters respectively) so there's a little work done there too. all in all, i'm about 75% of the way done w ZD and i have no plans to abandon it given how much it's taken to get this far,, im just bad w social media bc it gives me a lot of anxiety lol. im gonna log off again until ch. 9 is done (or aug. 31 hits lol), and im sorry if i havent gotten to ur ask, this was literally just the one at the top of my inbox. ik im rambling, but tysm for reading this far <3
i also have a separate message for patrons or anyone who used to be a patron, but that was dksjfkldsjk so i'm so sorry, just bear w me for a bit until i get the writing ready, i have a bad habit of letting guilt overwhelm me and making things worse.
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nagito-kissmaeda · 3 months
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CHAPTER ONE: Rise and Shine CHAPTER TWO: i guess its all up to me now CHAPTER THREE: Predictably, everything gets worse CHAPTER FOUR: good morning CHAPTER FIVE: Something to eat CHAPTER SIX: a start CHAPTER SEVEN: the party don’t start ‘til CHAPTER EIGHT: your full hospitality CHAPTER NINE: visitation rights CHAPTER TEN: gamer girl moments CHAPTER ELEVEN: prank patrol CHAPTER TWELVE: lets go to the beach beach CHAPTER THIRTEEN: gothic sand architecture
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Summary : Like most people visiting this tag. You have always dreamed of meeting Nagito Komaeda for real, what you would do, what you would say? Things don’t go as planned.
AKA: Reader from our universe ends up in danganronpa and is just trying her best to keep everyone alive. and maybe to make komaeda kiss her.
Contains: she/her pronouns, some mild sexual themes
Read on Ao3
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The beach is bustling when the two of you arrive. Pekoyama quickly gives you a farewell nod as she heads off to accompany Kuzuryu where he is sitting in the shallows and trying to make it look like he isn't having a good time. 
You can see Mioda already in the water, chasing Souda around and attempting to throw a handful of seaweed at him. He is screaming. Owari is sitting at the shoreline with her legs in the water, she’s halfway through an ice cream, but still manages to grin widely when she waves in your direction. You return the wave and make plans to head over to her before you notice Tsumiki and Sonia sitting together in the sand. 
Tsumiki’s hands shake as she attempts to round the edges of the sandcastle that the two of them are currently working on. Sonia’s tongue sticks out of her mouth as she, opposite Tsumiki, continues adding a set of perfect flying buttresses to the castle; you are unsure how she has managed this, but have learned not to question these sorts of things.
“You’ve made it!” Sonia says with a wide smile, now beginning to sculpt a collection of tiny gargoyles around the top level of the castle, “I hope you were not too disappointed by my early departure, I just think Mioda-san is often in need of supervision.” You peer up at where she is now trying to toss a starfish onto the top of Souda’s head, “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s okay, I had a nice conversation with Pekoyama-san.” Tsumiki looks up at you, she’s wearing a wide brimmed hat and a loose fitting white shirt over her bathing suit. It makes sense that a nurse would care about sun safely, the hat suits her, she looks very cute, “I-I’m glad you came. I hope you have a good time” She smiles softly, hands now shakily building a drawbridge, “Just be sure not to get burnt this time, I have more sunscreen if you need it, please take care of yourself.” She huffs, “I’ve already had this discussion with Komaeda-san, but I-I think he’s just going to ig-ignore my advice.”
You hadn't noticed Komaeda, which is very out of character for you. He’s in the water, but far enough away from everyone else that he seems excluded. His own doing, you assume. 
“Would you like to help us?” Sonia asks, abruptly tearing your attention away from Komaeda.
You blink, “Sorry?” She laughs, though not unkindly, “Help to build our sandcastle, of course!” 
You look briefly at the perfect replication of gothic architecture somehow sculpted out of sand alone, “Thanks but uh, I might work on expanding the royal empire and build my own castle, if it’s all the same.” Sonia claps her hands together in glee, “Expansionism! How delightful!”
“I-I might swim now, actually.” Tsumiki starts, “I-If that’s okay, Sonia-san?” “You don’t need my permission.” Sonia replies, waving a dismissive hand, “You’ve done a brilliant job, Tsumiki-san, and all castle architects are owed at least one day of allocated time off per castle built, so by all means! You are free to go.” Tsumiki nods gratefully, and rises a little shakily from the sand before heading to the water. 
You turn to Sonia, “Only one day of leave per castle?” She nods seriously, “Oh yes, my father always said ‘any less than that and they start getting rambunctious’. We tried only half a day some years ago, the riots were very bloody.” “Uh-huh…” 
“Anyway! I might go ask Tanaka-san if I can hold one of his Dark Devas.” She stands with utter grace and poise, giving you a brief curtsey before walking away. You are briefly stunned by the utterly dismal working conditions in Novoselic, but shake your head and sit in the sand before you start thinking about it too much. 
You start building the only kind of sandcastle you have experience with, a big pile of sand that is vaguely pyramid shaped. It’s nice to have something to do with your hands, a monotonous task to keep you occupied while the ever turning cogs in your head crunch and grind. You have to assume that Monokuma will bring out a new motive soon, and at this point you can only assume that it will be the despair disease. It’s hard to tell if access to the third island will make everything better or worse, Tsumiki having access to the hospital is a net good, only so long as she doesn’t catch the disease itself, and boy is that disease catching. 
Peering out at the ocean you see that Tsumiki is swimming with Mioda now, more accurately, Tsumiki is treading water while Mioda quite literally swims circles around her. Tsumiki deserves better than she got in the game, so does Mioda. 
You turn back to your castle, attempting to make it any sort of shape other than a vague lump. It feels weird to just be hanging around like this when so much is at stake, but there isnt much that you can do other than socialise and socialising is more useful than doing nothing. Trust is valuable, especially here, even if it’s something you aren’t all that used to garnering.
“Nice pile of sand.” 
You look up to see Komaeda standing above you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He’s still wet from the ocean, his hair clings flat to his head and it makes him look much less intimidating.
“Thanks.” You say, gesturing to your attempt at a sandcastle, “It’s my magnum opus.”
He peers down at it appraisingly and then says, “Could use a moat.”
You laugh, “You’re right.” feeling mischievous, you add, “Your hair looks nice, very drowned rat-esque.”
Komaeda bursts out laughing, hiding his face in his hands. When he looks back up at you again, his smile is so warm, and genuine that it feels like a shard of the sun has lodged in your chest.
“You’re funny.” He says
His expression is too intensely bright, you have to avert your eyes, “Thanks. I try.” you return to working on your sandcastle, anything to keep yourself from staring at him.
“Why aren't you swimming?” Komaeda asks. You peer back up at him, you were honestly expecting him to walk away when he was done mocking you, “Oh um, I just don't really want to?” He gives you a sly grin, “You can swim, can’t you?” That bristles you a little, “I’m a great swimmer actually! I love swimming!” you gesture halfheartedly to where the waves turn to foam against the sand, “I just don’t like the ocean. It’s spooky. There’s stuff in there, and the salt really hurts my eyes.”
His expression turns uncharacteristically soft and he drops to a crouch beside you. You shuffle back from him instinctively, not expecting him to get so close so quickly. For a moment, Komaeda just blinks at you slowly but then his brow creases with contemplation before he finally says, “Swim with me.”
Your heart feels like it come to a stop in your chest, “Uh- I, um-“
He laughs a little, cocking his head to the side, “That would help, wouldn’t it?”
“Um.” You wring your hands together, “I would feel better with company, but that doesn’t mean that you-”
He stands back up and holds his hand out to you, it stuns you into silence mid-sentence, you just stare up at him, utterly dumbfounded. “Come on.” Komaeda says, reaching further forward with his hand, asking you to take it. 
You barely manage to swallow around the lump in your throat as you tentatively take his hand in your own. If the contact is anywhere near as momentous, electric and world shattering for him as it is for you, it doesn't show on his face, but you do catch a near imperceptible bob in his throat that you try not to read too hard into.
His hand is cold, even in the heat of the sun and you can feel just how fragile his fingers are, like if you clenched your hand too hard they would all break. He doesn’t really pull you up from the ground, but holding onto him like this does make it easier to regain your balance on the uneven sand.
The water is warm when you take your first step in, more pleasant than you ever remember the ocean actually being. Neo World Program benefits, you suppose. Komaeda walks in front of you, still tugging on your hand. The back of his head eclipses the sun, its light catching in the white strands of his hair and causing them to shimmer like folded glass. 
“H-How deep are you planning to go?” You ask once the water reaches your shoulders, voice tinged with growing anxiety.
Komaeda looks back at you over his shoulder, “Not much further.”
You notice that the two of you are much deeper out than the rest of the class, barring only Nidai who is off in the distance swimming laps. There is an intimacy to it, the separation from everyone else on the beach. The second you can’t touch the ground with your toes anymore you can feel a nervous churning in your stomach. Komaeda is still walking, head and shoulders well above the water. When an admittedly small wave knocks you off balance, you panic and lurch forward to grab onto his arm. 
Komaeda laughs, but it’s good natured and warm “Aha, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
You want to kiss him. 
That thought is not so alarming. You have grown quite familiar with it these past few days, but the panicked and aching desperation of it is completely new. You begin to fear that you no longer have feelings for Nagito Komaeda the videogame character, but instead for Nagito Komaeda the real person. Which is somehow much more complicated and insurmountably harder to reconcile. Now that the water is deep enough, only Komaeda’s head bobs up above the water, and since you are floating in the water yourself, you actually meet his eye line for once instead of staring up at him. He watches you intently, staring so hard that it feels like he can see right through you. “Is there…something on my face?” You say quickly, trying desperately to diffuse some of the tension. He smirks, “Nope.”
Your eyes follow a droplet of water sliding down the length of his nose. Komaeda chuckles, “have I got something on my face?”
You quickly avert your gaze, “No! It’s just, uh-“ you suck in a breath, “Why are you even spending time with me? I’m not exactly working towards ending the killing game right at this moment, so there’s really no reason for you to be talking to me.” Komaeda’s brow furrows, “There’s something about you,” he says, “Ah, I'm not sure what it is, but it interests me.”
You close your eyes, feeling the cold dread filling your chest cavity, “What if I’m not interesting?” You say desperately, “What if it only seems like I am?”
“Hm, I don’t understand what you mean.” He smiles, “Whether or not I find you interesting is entirely up to me.”
“But I’m not . I'm not worth your time, or your effort, I need your help so I’m trying desperately to keep you around but the second you realise who I really am, what I really am, you’re going to hate me. I just know it.”
Komaeda hums aloud, “I suppose, the others are right.”
“What?”
He laughs, “it is uncomfortable being on the receiving end of this kind of talk. I suppose I owe everyone an apology.”
You are suddenly forced to wrestle with the fact that Nagito Komaeda thinks you are laying on the self depreciation a little too thick, “Sorry.” You say quickly, shaking your head “I didn’t mean to just say all of that at you.” 
Komaeda goes quiet for a moment, staring at you intimidatingly, “You would do anything to help the Ultimates defeat this despair, wouldn't you?”
“I uh-” You swallow thickly, “I think the both of us have a very different definition of help , but I will do all that I can to make sure everyone gets out alive, yes.”
“You promised to die for my cause, if your own method fails.” He cocks his head to the side, “Why?”
Your breath grows uneven, and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears, “Because I won’t fail.” Komaeda chuckles, “Ha. You're confident.” You shake your head, “I’m really not, but I’m the only one who can do it, so I have to.” you sigh to yourself, remembering that even if you manage to keep everyone alive, they will still need to grapple with their identities as the Remnants and the destruction of the world they once knew, “What I do isn’t what’s important though, the hard part comes after and how that resolves is entirely up to you and the other Ultimates. I’m just doing what I can to make sure everyone survives until then.” “How can you say things like that and expect me not to find you interesting.” His eyes are half lidded, and his grin is loose, “We aren’t so different, you and I. We are both working towards bringing the Ultimates to their next exuberant victory, over a despair even greater than the last.” He sighs, “But I have to admit, I’m still just a little curious about how you know all of this, and what comes after.”
You frown, “I can’t tell you. I can hardly expect you to behave yourself if I did.” Komaeda barks a laugh, “Behave myself?”
“Yes. You’ve promised to help me, and if you’re going to, then I need you to behave . So no spoilers.”
“You have a lot of nerve speaking to your superiors that way.” He says, but his expression holds none of the malice that his words convey.
Feeling brave, you reply, “Good thing it’s just you here, then, isn't it?” If anything, his eyes grow brighter at your answer. He floats a little closer to you, and you suck a breath in through your teeth, "If the talentless nobody promises to give me her due reverence, maybe I can promise to behave myself.”
“What, do you want me to get on my knees and beg?”
A visible shiver runs through him, and his smile turns wide and syrupy, “Maybe.” "O-oh.” You reply, swallowing thickly as you rub your thighs together. You had been joking, but the deep heat in your belly makes it clear that neither of you is joking anymore, "As long as you can make time for me in your busy schedule, I’m sure that I can manage something.” The next exhale of his breath is dangerously close to being a moan, “Aha…I’ll make sure to pencil you in.”
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Text
Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Eleven
It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.
However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.
Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F
AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 11
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] Part Eleven [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]
You walk into the grand hall with your maid, who you wave off to go to the tables with the other servants while you head for the dais. With the tournament coming up in a couple days as the official start to the wedding festivities—the hunt being unofficial—more and more people are arriving in Northridge itself or the town nearby.
A majority of them were invited to at least one supper at the estate after their arrival. As one of the betrothed, and the only one present, that means you are seated next to Grandmother and introduced to any and all guests. Many of the ones who had arrived so far are neighbors or family of Northridge and so you try to fix them firmly in your mind as you’re likely to see them again.
It’s exhausting. Between so many new people and your worry over how Dale is faring on the hunt that you can’t seem to vanquish, you can’t wait for the hunt’s return.
Today you see yet another new face waiting for you. A dignified woman in a handsome black suit, seemingly alone you are glad to see, is listening to Grandmother speak with a smile that softens her stern figure. Grandmother starts beckoning you over as soon as she spots you. “Come, come, dear,” she says. “Let me introduce you to my daughter, Lady Breighton. Breighton, this is my new grandchild-to-be.”
“Pleased to meet you,” you say once close enough, curtsying, as your mind runs through what you remember of this aunt: unmarried and lives in Verlind. The one Dale remembered as disliking him before he went away. 
Her eyes are sharp when you meet them and she gives you a polite bow in return. “You as well,” she replies, her voice low and confident, before her eyes return to her mother. “Speaking of, where is Father and the man of the hour?”
“Having a hunt, you know how those sorts are,” Grandmother waves her hand dismissively. “I hoped they would be back in time for supper tonight, but I suppose that was too much to expect.”
“I’ve certainly never understood the appeal of risking one’s life before getting married,” Lady Breighton says with some scorn, “except as a poorly done attempt to get out the wedding proper—if rather short-sighted to one’s other future prospects.”
You can’t tell if she’s joking for all Grandmother laughs. “Oh, hush. Sit down, sit down. It’s making my neck hurt, staring up at the two of you.”
You take your seat to her left, while her daughter sits on her right. You take additional care arranging your skirts to give yourself a few extra seconds before you must engage in conversation. The back of your neck prickles with the sensation someone is watching you as you do so. You look up to see Lady Breighton looking back at you, weighing you.
Grandmother gives no notice to this and simply continues, “It is lovely to be planning a wedding again, although each time I do forget how much is involved. We have not hosted since your brother’s nearly fifteen years ago.”
“I’m sure you have it well in hand, Mother,” Breighton says with a certain wry twist to her mouth. “As long as Dale isn’t making it a trial.”
Grandmother laughs. “Nonsense. You have always been too harsh on him,” she wags her finger at her daughter, but there’s no heat behind it, only amusement. “He is a growing lad and is as invested in his own wedding as he should be. The vigor of youth is to be encouraged, not stifled.” When Breighton looks as though she might object, Grandmother continues, “Do not think it has been so many years that I cannot recall how you were when younger.”
Breighton closes her mouth reluctantly. 
“Besides, his fiance is a wonderful influence on him,” Grandmother continues, turning to you with a smile you don’t expect. “I always knew that all Dale needed was a few years abroad to work through some of that youthful fickleness and a competent partner to become the man he could always become.”
You blush at both her words and the renewed focus Breighton bestows upon you. As before, you feel she can see every inch of you. She appears skeptical, but not enough to speak any of her thoughts aloud at this time. 
You feel an odd kinship with Breighton, after all if Dale hadn’t had his accident, you’d agree with her skepticism because she would have been right. Grandmother is too indulgent of Dale, has such a strong belief in his better nature, and you can’t help but find yourself on Breighton’s side of things. Besides, perhaps with the right experiences, he would have become a better man. 
But he didn’t.
“You’re too kind, Grandmother,” you reply, trying to focus on her instead.
“I am nothing of the sort. I will have you know they used to say such things about me in the House of Law,” she says with a wicked smile that reminds you of Dale these days more than anyone else. “Never to my face though. Why one time, this particular Duke opposed one of my measures and—”
Her story is interrupted by a commotion at the other end of the hall, the doors opening rather dramatically to admit what you realize is the returning hunting party. Relief that they are back sweeps through you, a smile growing unbidden on your face because you’ve missed Dale, more than you thought you would.
Then you take in the general countenance of the people arriving. They don’t look frightened or somber or grieving, but they look worried, talking in quiet murmurs and glancing at the dais and then back to those who are still coming. 
It’s a sobering sight and you frantically look for the source of tension. No one’s grim enough for a death, but someone must have been injured, someone—.
The group parts to reveal a bedraggled looking figure held up by another. Grandfather walks beside them, looking rather like he’s been rung out and left to dry wrinkled. He has some darker mud stains on his clothing for all he appears to walk uninjured. With nothing immediately distressing in his person, your eyes narrow on the injured, far muddier looking figure. They widen even as your nerves paradoxically steady. 
Because the danger you’ve been anticipating has finally been realized.
You gasp as you take Dale in. He’s not just muddy, but covered in blood. The left side of his overcoat is stiff with it and he’s favoring his right side in general. No cane to be seen, just a heavy lean on Mr. Murray, who’s seemingly half carrying him.
“Greetings!” Dale calls out and his voice is strong, but with a strange wobble to it. “We have returned victorious!”
Grandmother gasps as Grandfather and Dale come closer and she can see something of their appearance. A man breaks off from the group to hurry up to the dais and reassure her while Grandfather keeps pace with Dale and his valet. You are able to understand over the muted roar in your ears that it’s one of her sons, who’s trying to explain that they’re fine, just a little worse for wear. 
Carefully working your way up his body, you catalog a large gash on his left leg, multiple tears on his trousers—dark stains you honestly aren’t sure the origin of: mud or blood. His overcoat is missing an arm and his actual arm is hard to look at. Honestly, you can’t even distinguish what’s wrong with it, just that it's a bloody mess. At least no visible bones appear to be sticking out nor does it appear to be at an odd angle. You’re certain he must be bruised but there’s certainly no way to tell from here.
You follow in Grandmother’s wake in a mild daze as she stands up and makes her way around the table, asking, “What are you thinking! Dragging my injured boy hither and yon.”
Dale went limp after he called out for the rest of the journey across the floor, as if his initial outburst had used up his remaining energy. Now that he’s only a few feet away, he picks his head up, looking around blearily as if the sound of their voices is drawing him back into the moment. His gaze lands on you first and his whole face, bruised as it is, lights up. Your heart lurches in response: both at his clear delight in seeing you and at how it pulls on the bruises and cuts on his face in a manner that must be painful.
“We took down a majestic stag, hart of eleven in the least,” he crows, seemingly not concerned with the state he’s wound up in. “Uncle has it, I think.” He turns to blink at his uncle, sees his empty hands, and frowns. “No, he hasn’t got it. Mayhap the Marquess or Alexanderer.”
“Yes, my congratulations,” you find yourself saying automatically, no idea how he’s not mentioning his injury.  You try to keep your voice cheerful to match his own, even though inside you’re caught in turmoil. Now that you’re closer, you find yourself having to fist your hands in your skirts not to touch him, check him over for yourself. 
Nothing about his appearance screams ‘demon’ and he can’t have revealed himself because they would have chained him up or set him on fire, not dragged him back here. But he seems sloppier when ill and you’re not sure if longer time spent injured might affect his ability to conceal himself soon. It feels like you’re on a clock and you need to know how much time is left. “Is that how you ended up like this?”
“What? Pftt,” Dale shakes his head and then raises his banged up arm to brace it. “Shouldn’t have done that. No, no I—this happened after. There was a boar, a biiiiig boar.”
“And what? You wrestled it?” Grandmother’s sharp voice cuts into your conversation and you both turn to her. You don’t expect her to look so brittle as she stares at her grandson, nearly having lost his life for the second time in as many weeks after being away from home for years. Of course, she doesn’t know he already has lost his life. 
You resolve never to tell her because seeing her face right now is enough.
“Grandmother…” any easy delight is gone from Dale’s face. “I’m alright, I give you my word. Looks far worse than it is. I need a bath and some bandaging, that’s all.”
“Oh, Dale.” Grandmother wraps him in a hug as well as she can with him still leaning on his valet and her being quite a bit shorter than him. Dale accepts the affection with start and before it goes on too long, she straightens up. “You need a doctor. Why did you bring him back here instead of fetching a physician to you? Should he even be standing up?”
“Sending someone, or even a bird, back here to fetch a doctor and then waiting for them to join us would have taken far longer simply coming home,” Grandfather says sternly, obviously defensive regarding both his decision and from the fact that Dale was harmed on the hunt he was hosting. There’s something else about him though, a shock factor that no one else seems to have, that makes you nervous.
“I’m fine,” Dale insists once more, reaching out as if to pat Grandmother’s shoulder, but she’s already moved out of reach to find the nearest physician.
You catch his hand before he hurts himself or Mr Murray. He stares at you in surprise, as if having forgotten you were there, before grinning. “Wait until you see the stag and the boar. A very impressive hunt, if I do say so. Such an invigorating time. Why, I feel alive in a manner I haven’t for years.”
“What have you given him?” you ask without thinking and rather more sharply than you intend to because Dale does not talk like this.
You don’t take it back.
“Whiskey,” Grandfather replies gruffly. “No harm in that.”
You would beg to disagree, but hold your tongue for now. “No wonder his balance is off,” you can’t help but murmur under your breath as you shift to accommodate the weight he’s already leaning on you while he continues to look around, perhaps for his hunted game.
“His balance was not the concern at the time,” Grandfather says with a scowl, accepting a wet cloth from a servant and reaching over to try to wipe at Dale’s face. This close you can see some attempt has already been made, but the scratch on his forehead must have reopened in transit. “He was in pain.”
To his credit, Dale barely seems to notice anything’s wrong at all at the moment. You haven’t seen this Dale truly drunk, he’s avoided anything besides wine at dinner since his illness, but you wonder exactly what effect it’s having on him considering what he is. 
“How did you even manage to get him back here?” Grandmother asks sharply, back from whatever she was arranging and clearly still not ready to let go of her displeasure that they brought Dale back to the estate instead of sending a message for someone to come to the lodge. “Did you strap him to his horse?” 
The silence that follows her question answers it.
Grandmother huffs with displeasure before she starts herding Dale and his valet over to a chair that’s been brought down from the dais. Mr. Murray helps Dale detach himself from his own person and into the chair. Since you haven’t let go of Dale’s arm, you help guide him and keep his focus on you, when he seems able to focus at all. Accepting the bowl of water and towel offered to him, his valet begins to try to clean Dale off.
You don’t look away from Dale, too on edge to let him out of your sight, but you overhear Grandfather and Uncle Wellington explaining to Grandmother and a doctor what happened. Evidently when he went to finish off a boar they’d hunted down, it’d gotten free of the hold some of the hounds had on it. Dale had ended up on top of the boar and the others hadn’t been able to do much besides keep it corralled, too worried about striking Dale instead of the boar. Dale had managed to finish it off with his dagger in the end, but not before getting rather banged up.
You can sense movement from the corner of your eye and you look over from where you’re kneeling next to the chair to find a middle-aged man leaning over Dale—likely the doctor. He doesn’t spare you a glance, running his eyes over Dale’s form, lips moving as he mutters to himself. Without saying a word of warning, he reaches out and pulls Dale’s injured arm from your grip.
Any lethargy Dale has been feeling must be burn away at the sudden touch, because he yanks his arm out of the other man’s grasp before you can blink. He pushes the doctor away with his left arm, a strong flat palmed blow to the man’s chest. “Do not touch me,” Dale hisses, looking balefully at the stunned man. His voice is dark and full of anger, “I have not given you permission to touch my person. Who are you?”
The man sputters, gone pale and drawn at Dale’s sudden fierce attitude. “I’m a doctor, let me look—”
Dale’s glare intense. “Another physician who doesn’t know anything. Presumptuous, foolish, self-important. I don’t need any of your help.” He practically spits that last word and you wish now more than ever you knew exactly what had happened between him and the previous doctor he scared the wits out of. Mostly you’re worried he’s going to do something to expose himself. In a way you’ve forgotten about since seeing Dale’s injuries for the first time, you’re suddenly all too aware of all the people around you, that you’re in the middle of the largest hall with practically everyone in Northridge here for supper.
The doctor takes a step back, frightened or pride-stung, and no one reproaches Dale regarding his venom. Grandmother doesn’t even twitch towards him, continuing to give orders instead, “Ms Adir, please set to making bandages if someone else is not already doing so. I believe we have not replenished our supply since the cat incident nor am I aware of where we are with our preparation for the tournament.”
You have–to mollify yourself when you thought of the tournament ahead while feeling impotent about the hunt. “I’ve special bandages ready,” you volunteer. 
“What sort of bandages? Special how?” Grandmother asks, frown evident in her voice.
“Woven with silver and lightly treated with blessed honey,” you reply. When you had trouble sleeping the last few nights, you’d sewn quite a lot of yardage to occupy your hands until more ready for sleep, despite the waste of candles to see by. More than enough for Dale’s injuries now. 
With the guest physician still looking cowed, Grandfather turns to Breighton. She nods. “I’m no doctor, but I’ve friends who are and they say those are the best.”
It’s enough of a confirmation for Grandmother and you send your maid off with instructions for where to find your supplies. Behind you, you can hear the doctor recover from some of his fright and begin to request his own supplies. You don’t comment until you hear him mention willowbark. “No willowbark,” you correct. “Lord Dale is allergic.”
“No, he’s not,” Grandfather says, confused enough you look up at him.
“Yes, he is,” you say, knowing that ‘allergy’ might have to do with his new nature and hoping that isn’t a well-known sign of possession. You try to forget that might be the case so your delivery of the information is as natural as possible. “He told me so himself only a short while ago.”
“He never was before,” Grandfather says and you don’t understand the accusation in his voice. The way he almost glares at you, rather than Dale. Surely if he suspected something was wrong with Dale, if he’d seen something of what Dale now is on this hunt, that would be where his suspicion would lie. Right?
“It’s possible he developed an allergy recently,” the doctor says, inadvertently coming to your rescue. “It’s no hardship, there are other treatments.”
“Right,” Grandfather says gruffly, before deflating. He rubs his face with his hand. “My apologies, it's been a long few hours.”
“Thank you, sana,” Dale says, patting your arm with his injured one. “I knew I could count on you.”
You’d rather he not have gotten hurt at all, but you can’t deny the warmth, the pride that fills you at his words. You stroke his hand in reply. “Of course.”
[Part Twelve]
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sam-loves-seb · 23 days
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I’ve read your Several Sentences Sunday post an embarrassing number of times. I’m just that excited for the next chapter of I’m Not The Way I Was.
aw thanks so much, this is so sweet. i'm so glad you're excited about i'm not the way i was. i am too!
also gonna use this ask to say that unfortunately there will be no new chapter today :( there are a few parts i'm still playing with because i wanna get them right, and life's just been too chaotic lately to actually give ch 6 the time and attention it needs. i am hopeful that posting will resume in two weeks and we can get back to the regular update schedule. fingers crossed!
until then, i'm posting the first thousand-ish words of ch 6 under the cut to hopefully hold everyone over until then. (it's unedited and unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.)
enjoy. xx
Ian wakes up in Lip’s dorm room. Again.
The alarm clock is blaring at full volume, and Lip kicks Ian in the shins until he’s conscious enough to reach over and shut it off.
“What fucking time is it?” Lip groans into his pillow.
“Eight-thirty.” Ian yawns.
“I don’t have class ‘til eleven,” Lip says as he pulls his pillow out from under his head and whacks Ian in the face with it.
Ian shoves him off. “Yeah, but I have work at nine.”
That’s part of the reason Ian was able to drag himself away from Mickey’s house last night. He took a cab back to CPU in the middle of the night after he got off Mickey’s block and realized he had to be up in six hours for work. He could’ve stayed at the house and taken the L back to campus in the morning, but he was so wired after his talk with Mickey last night that he used the cab ride to tire himself out.
Which ultimately wasn’t that successful because he spent most of the ride texting Mickey and planning their first date. He even called him as he walked across the green to Lip’s dorm and listened to Mickey’s raspy voice, half asleep and smiling on the other end of the line as they decided on a date and time.
Tonight. Seven o’clock.
“Next time you go to your boyfriend’s house, stay there ‘til the morning,” Lip teases, grabbing his hoodie from the floor and sliding it on over his bedhead.
Ian gave him the one-sentence-summary of his conversation with Mickey when his bleary-eyed brother opened the door for him at two-thirty last night. He did not, in any way, shape, or form, use the word boyfriend, but Lip doesn’t seem to care.
“Yeah yeah,” Ian says with a quiet smile, pulling on a fresh t-shirt he steals from Lip’s dresser. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair tonight.”
Lip reaches over and plucks at the eight-ball design on the front of the threadbare cotton shirt. “You staying at Mickey’s?”
“No,” Ian answers automatically, then pauses. His hands go still where they’re half buried in his backpack. “Well. I don’t know.”
Lip just raises his brows at him as he sits down in his desk chair.
“Is that a normal first date thing?” Ian asks, his brows pinched. “To sleep over?”
“Why are you asking me?” Lip asks, tapping out a cigarette from Ian’s pack.
“’cause you’ve done this shit before.”
Lip cracks the window and lights up. “Only one of us has dated Mickey Milkovich before, and it wasn’t me.”
Ian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but…” He shakes his head. “You know, Mickey and I never went on dates.”
Lip pauses. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Ian says, shrugging. “And I wanna do this right. I don’t know what the… etiquette is.”
Lip takes a long drag and sort of tilts his head from side to side. “I doubt Mickey does either.”
Something about that settles the little ball of anxiety that was slowly starting to build in Ian’s chest. Because Lip’s right—neither of them know what the hell they’re doing with this shit.
Whether that’s good or bad remains to be seen, but at least it puts them on an even playing field.
“Look,” Lip says, leaning over and clapping Ian on the shoulder. “Just feel it out. If things are going well, maybe suggest it, see what he says.”
Ian nods. “Yeah.”
Lip squeezes his shoulder. “Just talk to him about it. Okay?” He leans back in his chair. “It’ll be fine.”
“Yeah.” Ian breathes out a long exhale. “Okay.”
The panicked nerves inside of him start to turn into an excited buzz after a minute. He’s definitely still nervous, but it doesn’t feel as heavy. Suddenly he desperately wants it to be seven o’clock, and he’s walking over to the Alibi to pick Mickey up for their date.
The fact that Ian has to work an eight-hour janitorial shift between now and then is criminal.
“You know I’m rooting for you,” Lip starts, “but in the off chance you don’t end up staying at Mickey’s house tonight—are you coming back here?”
“Nah,” Ian tells him, shaking his head. “Figured I’d stay at the house. Last night, and all that.”
“Oh, right,” Lip says. He blinks tiredly, a little dazed. “Forgot about that.”
Ian finishes packing his shit in his bag. “Bank’s coming to change the locks tomorrow.”
Lip taps his fingers against the edge of his desk. “I think I still have some shit in my room. Maybe tomorrow morning… I mean, I have work, but I can probably catch the L early and come home to get it before—”
“I already boxed it up,” Ian tells him, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “I put it with my shit, so you can come get it whenever. Kev and V said we could move our stuff to their place until we figure out where we’re gonna go.”
Lip nods. “Thanks.”
“Yep.”
With a heavy sigh, Lip turns in his chair and opens one of his textbooks, flipping through the pages until he finds the folded sheet of notes he crammed in it yesterday.
“What are you doing?” Ian asks, tying his sneakers. “You said you don’t have class ‘til eleven. Go back to bed.”
“No, I gotta get this done,” Lip says, glancing at the clock. “I won’t have time to do it later, I have a… thing.”
Ian raises a brow. “A thing?”
“Yeah.”
When Lip doesn’t expand on it, Ian crosses his arms over his chest.
“You’re gonna be late.”
“Don’t care. What’s your thing?”
Lip sighs. “Alright,” he says, dropping his pencil. “You know that professor I told you about?”
“The one you’re sleeping with?”
Lip nods. “The school board kind of found out about it when this naked picture I took of her leaked online.”
“Jesus Christ, Lip,” Ian says, his mouth dropping open.
“I didn’t leak it,” Lip says, then shakes his head. “Long story—whatever. They know, and now I gotta go to this fucking hearing about it.”
Ian stares at him with worried eyes. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. Can’t they kick you out for this?”
Lip considers it, then shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Ian blinks. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” Lip scrubs his hands over his face. “So now I’ve got that to worry about, and Helene’s career is under fire over something that shouldn’t have been anyone else’s business in the first place.”
Ian’s lips quirk up. “Helene?”
Lip kicks at his knee. “Shut up.”
“You’ve never told me her name before.”
“Yeah, well. That’s when I thought we could keep this whole thing on the down low.”
Ian hums in agreement.
“Anyway,” Lip says, running his finger over the corner of the page in his textbook. “I gotta read this.”
“Yeah, I gotta head out,” Ian says, standing up with his backpack on one shoulder still. “Good luck today.”
Lip waves halfheartedly. “You too.”
Ian makes a confused face as he walks backwards to the door.
Lip smiles. “With your date.”
“Right,” Ian says, and he can’t help but smile too.
“Give Mickey my love.”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
...more to come!
[ read from the chapter 1 on ao3 ]
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cryoculus · 1 year
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— reparations (masterlist) ⟢
running a business in hanamizaka was one thing—but doing so in the turf of the arataki gang was something else entirely. although, as long as you paid rent on time, they assured that you wouldn't run into any trouble.
...that's until the boss crashed his motorcycle into your shop, inviting all sorts of trouble along the way.
★ FEATURING; arataki itto x gn!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 74k and counting
★ STATUS; ongoing
★ TAGS; modern au, flower shop au, slow burn, idiots to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, no smut, sfw
★ NOTES; this is the fic that i started before we even got itto as a playable character, and the same one i have Yet to finish two years since his release lmfao i hope you enjoy what i have so far!
★ HEADER ART CR; onimotimo on twt
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✧ one: a man walks into a bar— no, smashes his bike into your shop: what do you do? (5.3k words)
✧ two: what resumé? i'm hiring myself as your number one helper! (5.3k words)
✧ three: knocking on heaven's (read: my employer's) door (5.9k words)
✧ four: revealing someone else’s tragic backstory is NOT cool, okay? (4.4k words)
✧ five: i have a very marketable skill called “jumping to conclusions”
✧ six: do i get a gold star for doing a great job or no?
✧ seven: question: if someone likes you, are you required to like them back?
✧ eight: making plans when you already have plans is a different kind of stupid
✧ nine: it only takes four hours to make or break someone’s day [april 20]
✧ ten: how about we just hug it out like a bunch of bros? [april 20]
✧ eleven: falling in love is the worst experience ever; i give it a 0 out of 10 [april 22]
✧ twelve: signs of maturity: having healthy conversations & going to the grocery store without minding your budget [april 22]
✧ thirteen: the fake dating trope only works in theory, NEVER in practice [april 27]
✧ fourteen: psa: you can only call it a first kiss if all parties consent to it! [april 27]
★ DISCLAIMER; since this was written when some of inazuma's lore + characters weren't released yet, expect some inconsistencies w canon (especially with shinobu's appearance)
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★ UPDATE SCHED; every thurs & sat (12 nn gmt+8)
‼️ A NOTICE FROM KAI; chapters that are running behind schedule will be posted sometime around May! Apologies for the delay :(
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© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.
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merrybloomwrites · 9 months
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You Can Start a Family (Chapter 10)
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Summary: Love on Tour comes to an end, and new relationships begin in Italy.
Previous Chapters: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine
CW: Smut
This is the final chapter of this main story! But don't worry, I have lot's of plans for blurb/ one shots. Check out my last post here for more details about that. And please send me requests!!
Thank you to everyone who has read this story! It's the first things I've ever published like this and the feedback has truly been wonderful. I hope you enjoy this last chapter.
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The second week of traveling Europe and going to shows is just as wonderful as the first. Maybe even more so. You’re more comfortable with everyone, having become friends with the whole band and a fair number of crew members. Things have calmed down slightly, and you learn that there was a lot of extra craziness surrounding the Slane and Wembley shows. Everyone has a bit more free time now, including Harry.
You, Harry, Sarah, and Mitch hang out a couple of times all together. Each pairing also spends some quality one on one time together. Sarah made plans for the two of you to get massages as well and mani pedis during a day off in Cardiff. You and Mitch have lunch together followed by him teaching you some new skills on guitar. Harry had found a hiking trail he wanted to try so the two of you do that together and have a picnic.
Mitch and Sarah each go out with Harry, and have a date just the two of them. After each outing you all tell each other what you’d done but don’t share all of the details. It doesn’t seem necessary. There is an inherent trust that you all have, and this allows you all to keep some of the individual moments special. You’d realized that in a relationship with this many people, each individual pairing needs to be fostered.
The four of you are able to hang as a group two times that week. The first time, you all go for a walk in Cardiff together and have lunch. The next day you have a movie night in Harry’s hotel room. Both times are very casual, and the conversation about Harry officially entering the relationship is never brought up. There’s an understanding that things are to go back to normal until tour ends.
You enjoy the last three shows you are at. There is a chance you’ll be back for the final show in Italy, but nothing is set in stone, so you keep that to yourself. You wander around the stadium with Brad again for the two Cardiff shows and are permitted to sit in front of the barrier during the show in Belgium. You take in every moment in Werchter, ignoring that this time tomorrow you’ll be back home. You latch on to Mitch and Sarah the second the show ends.
The three of you fight sleep that night, staying up too late talking, kissing, exploring each other’s bodies once again. You wake up wrapped in their arms and continue the activities from the night before. You spend time simply pleasing each other with your hands and mouths until your alarm goes off, signaling you need to start getting ready for the airport.
You shower, get dressed and make sure everything is packed. There are about 15 minutes left before your car leaves for the airport, and you hear a knock at the door. Mitch goes to answer and a moment later he walks back, Harry following him.
“I just wanted to say good-bye,” he says. “It truly has been wonderful getting to know you these past couple of weeks.”
“I’ve had a great time hanging out,” you reply.
“Will I see you again soon?” he asks.
“I hope so. I’m working on it.”
“Good,” he says as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s everything you’ve come to expect from Harry’s hugs- comforting, long, feels like home. You say good-bye to him before pulling back, and soon after he leaves so that you have alone time with Mitch and Sarah.
You’ve been holding up better than when they left you a few weeks prior, but as the time to depart draws closer, your eyes start to fill with tears. You look up, trying to blink them away, but it’s no use.
The second they notice Mitch and Sarah wrap their arms around you. For a few minutes no one speaks. You all just stay in this group hug, comforting one another and soaking up the contact. Your phone buzzes, and you have a text from Pete saying he’s available to drive you when you’re ready.
Sarah steps back, allowing Mitch to pull your lips up and meet his. “I love you,” he says against your mouth before moving to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll miss you baby.”
“I’ll miss you too, Mitch. I love you so much.” After one more kiss you turn from him to Sarah who immediately pulls you in tight.
“I love you sweetheart. And we’ll see you again soon, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, now so emotional that you’re having trouble getting the words out. Your “I love you” is barely a whisper, but she hears. Her hands rub your back and she kisses you just like Mitch had- first your lips, then your forehead. You keep your eyes closed, committing every detail of this interaction to memory so you can hold on to these feelings as long as possible.
You take a deep breath and finally break the hug. You grab your bags, dry your tears, share one more simple peck with each of them and walk out of the room.
Pete is waiting in the lobby along with Madi who says, “Hope you don’t mind me tagging along. A friend of mine is landing soon, and I wanted to be there to pick her up.”
You’re happy to have Madi’s company, so you reply, “I don’t mind at all!” and you give her a genuine smile. It was hard saying good-bye to Mitch and Sarah, which is why you had decided it should be done in private and not at the airport, but having Madi in the car with you raises your mood. It makes you realize that in the past two weeks you have made a lot of new friends, which is something so difficult in your adult life.
You spend much of the flight home thinking about all those friendships, the moments you spent with the band and the crew. Though you are sad to leave, you also feel happier than you have in a long time.
You text Mitch and Sarah once you get home and even though it’s the middle of the night for them, they both reply immediately. It fills you with warmth to know that they stayed up until they knew you were home safe.
*****
The next few weeks are just like those first weeks of tour, except this time you’re on the phone with more than just Mitch and Sarah. You speak to Harry every couple of days, and occasionally get to FaceTime with other members of the band when they hang out together.
A week after you leave you find out that Harry has rented out a number of homes in Italy for the week following the final show. Much of the band and crew would be staying there for a relaxing vacation after these stressful months. At first Mitch and Sarah say that they’re not going to stay, that they want to fly back to you as soon as it’s done, but you tell them not to come back right away.
You tell them that baby Ryan’s grandparents are planning to visit, and that you’re going to get more time off that week. You assure them that you can fly out at least for the second half. What you don’t tell them is that you’re actually planning to get to Italy just in time for the final show. Pete’s been helping you coordinate the details, ensuring that no one else knows. You’re not sure if he’s an incredibly loyal person, or if he simply doesn’t care about your personal life, but he’s a lifesaver for helping you without asking any questions.
The weeks end up flying by. You and Ryan spend as much time outside running around or swimming in the pool as possible. You’re keeping so active that you’re exhausted by the time you get home each night. While tiring, it comes in handy because before you know it, you’re packing for a week in Italy.
Keeping your travel plans a secret from Mitch and Sarah is difficult, especially when they call you while you wait at the airport. You run to find a quiet corner, praying no overhead announcements get picked up by the phone. You keep things light, a normal Friday night phone call before they head to bed. When they hang up you breathe a sigh of relief, as it seems they didn’t figure out your whereabouts.
This trip is definitely more stressful than the last. It’s not a direct flight and the second leg is delayed. Once you land you still have to take two trains, and due to you arriving late you miss your original departure. You get new tickets sorted and grab lunch to enjoy on the way. Finally, you arrive in Reggio Emilia, but Pete is no longer able to pick you up, since he has other jobs assigned to him. He sends another crew member, Erin, which leads to a moment of confusion since you hadn’t met her before and didn’t have a way to contact her. It takes a while but you eventually find her in the pickup area.
It's nearly 6 PM by the time you make it to the stadium. Erin ends up being a literal godsend and shows you a place where you can quickly freshen up and get changed. She also takes care of your luggage and leads you down the hall to the band dressing room.
Luckily the door is open, so you walk right in. Ariza is the first to notice, shouting, “Hey! She’s back!” which alerts everyone else to your presence.
You’re looking right at Mitch and Sarah, and you can tell the exact moment they realize who Ariza is talking about. You blink and the next thing you know Mitch has wrapped his arms tight around your waist to pick you up and spin you in a circle. He quickly puts you down and lets go, not wanting to be too obvious in front of the whole band.
Sarah hugs you next, tucking her face into your shoulder and pressing a kiss there knowing that your hair is blocking the intimate gesture. You’re then pulled into hugs by the rest of the band as well as some crew members who pass by.
After a short conversation with the band, they turn to continue getting ready. There’s definitely a different atmosphere in the room than usual, and you know everybody is dealing with their mixed emotions about this being the final show.
“Do you think there’s any chance I can say hello to Harry before the show?” you ask Mitch.
“We can go check,” he replies, “but I’m not sure if he’ll want to see people right now or be alone.”
“Of course.”
The three of you walk down the hall and Sarah gently knocks on the door. You’re standing behind her and Mitch, and so Harry doesn’t notice you when he opens the door.
“Hey guys, what’s up?” he says with a smile.
“Brought a surprise,” Sarah says before stepping to the side.
The second he sees you his eyes light up. He pulls you in for a hug, one arm secure around your waist while the other holds the back of your head. You stay like that for a full minute before he pulls back and ushers the three of you into his dressing room.
He sits in his chair, gesturing that the three of you take the couch. You sit in between Mitch and Sarah who each take one of your hands in theirs, still in slight disbelief that you’re there.
“I thought you weren’t coming for another few days,” Harry states.
“Yea, why’d you lie?” Sarah asks with a smile.
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure this would work out. I didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up just in case I didn’t make it. And I barely did. I was supposed to get here hours ago.”
“What happened?”
“Typical travel nonsense, nothing to worry about. Now tell me, how are you all feeling?”
Everyone is quiet for a minute. Harry speaks up first, saying, “I’m feeling sad that it’s ending. And proud of what we accomplished. It’s very bittersweet.” He pauses and the others nod their heads in agreement. “And I’m also feeling very hopeful. I will say I’m glad to have something to look forward to.”
You give him a confused look, not exactly sure what he’s talking about. He continues, “I mean if the offer is still there. For me to join you all.”
It clicks in your mind and your expression changes immediately.
Mitch reassures him quickly, “Of course the offer is still there. We want you to be a part of this Harry. You’re so important to us, and if we can make this work, I think we’ll all be extremely happy.”
Harry visibly relaxes in front of you, a content smile spreading across his face. This moment of peace is short lived as there is another knock on the door. Pete is there alerting everyone that it’s almost time for Wet Leg to open the show.
“I should go, I want to talk to them before they start,” Harry says.
You all get up and you turn to give Harry another hug before leaving, as you know you likely won’t see him again before the show starts. You lean in to say, “I am incredibly proud of you. Everything you’ve done is amazing. And I’m very happy to see what the next chapter brings for you, and for all of us together.”
When you pull back you see a hint of tears in his eyes. He blinks them away before looking back at you. He brings one hand up to rest on the side of your face and then hesitates. He moves forward slightly, your eyes meeting and his lips a mere inch from yours. At the last second, he seems to stop himself, and you feel his lips press against your cheek.
He pulls away to press a kiss to Mitch and Sarah’s cheeks as well, and you’re all blushing when you walk out of the room.
After a brief stop in the band dressing room, you all head out to watch Wet Leg. Sarah and Mitch are more reserved, standing together, Mitch’s arm around Sarah’s waist. A part of you wishes you could be like that in public, but you’re honestly just happy to watch them be adorable. Plus, you know the fans are loving how cute they’re being. You dance with Madi, Elin, Ariza, and Pauli and have a wonderful time.
Once Wet Leg is done you join the people who are congratulating them. After a little while you make your way to the band’s room again so you can see Mitch and Sarah before they go on. You don’t say anything, but you don’t have to. They heard your words to Harry earlier and they know you’d be saying the same to them if you had privacy.
You use your all access pass to its limits during the show, moving around to wherever you’ll get the best views without blocking any of the fans or getting in the crews’ way.
You’re mesmerized from the first moment everyone steps on stage. Harry looks amazing in his silver outfit, and you love the denim jumpsuits on the band. You practically melt every time Harry speaks in Italian. The extra songs are so special, and you barely hear the Two Ghosts intro leading to Falling because the crowd is screaming so loud.
At one point you find yourself with Brad, James Corden and a few others mixing in with the fans. Everyone loses their minds when they do the full version of Best Song Ever, including you.
You cheer extra loud for everyone when Harry introduces the band. Fine Line nearly brings you to tears. The piano piece that Harry wrote to play as the final song truly did bring you to tears. It was so beautiful and a perfect ending to the tour.
Everyone takes their final bows. Harry walks across the stage, thanking all of his fans before moving back to the center. He takes it all in, finally falling to his knees because he is so overwhelmed with emotions. You glance at Mitch and Sarah, now standing together with arms wrapped around each other. They’re watching him and you can see the love and admiration in their eyes. They’re just as proud of him as everyone else.
As soon as they walk backstage you and the rest of the family and friends head there as well. Immediately you’re met with celebratory chaos. For a solid half hour there’s cheering, shouting, dancing. Finally, everyone starts breaking away to get changed. After everyone is ready you all head over to a nearby club to properly celebrate the end of tour.
The place Harry chose is perfect. Downstairs in a small dining room, quiet music playing, and delicious Italian food set up along one wall. Upstairs is the complete opposite. It’s darker, there’s loud music, and a bar is set up on every wall of the room.
After scoping out the place Mitch simply says, “food” so you join him and Sarah at the buffet. The three of you are joined at a table by Madi and two of her friends. The food is delicious. Your family may be Italian, but they’ve never made anything this good.
Once you’re all satisfied you head upstairs. It’s gotten extremely crowded, and you have to weave your way through people to get to the bar. Sarah orders for everyone since she has the loudest voice out of the trio. You smile as she hands you your favorite.
For the next hour or so you dance, drink, sing along to the music, and have a great time. It’s been years since you’ve let loose like this, and you’re enjoying the freedom of it. For the most part you stick with Mitch and Sarah, but you also spend time hanging out with other band or crew members.
You find yourself lost in the crowd after Pauli leaves the dance floor to head to the bathroom. A moment later a man you don’t recognize walks up to you.
While the party is mostly for all the people who worked on the tour, there are also others there that you haven’t met. Some are crew members you haven’t had the chance to talk to, and some are friends, family members, or industry contacts that got an invite because of the status they hold.
“Hey, I’m Ricky,” he says, holding his hand out to you.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you reply while quickly shaking his hand. You don’t necessarily want to talk to him, but you were always taught to be polite.
“Great party huh?” he asks, trying to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, yea, it’s pretty cool,” you reply, looking around for someone that you know but not being able to see anyone. You can’t explain it, but something about this guy has you feeling uncomfortable.
“What are you drinking? I can get you a refill.”
“Thank you but I’m alright.”
“Yea it’s getting late huh. Maybe we could get out of here, have another after party of our own.” And there it is. You’ve been hit on a couple of times before and you never know how to respond.
“No, I think I’m just going to find some of my friends.” You turn and try to walk away but he grabs your wrist to keep you there. The second his skin touches yours you start to panic. You’re not fully freaking out, figuring he wouldn’t try something in a room full of people, but what if he’s able to get you alone?
“I could be your friend.” If you weren’t so worried about what he might do, you’d be rolling your eyes at that awful line and the way he thought that would actually work on you.
“That’s okay, I’m all set on friends at the moment. Now please let go of me.”
His other hand slides to your hip, gripping tightly and he leans in to say, “Oh c’mon babe, don’t play so hard to get. It’s a night for celebrating. Let’s have some fun.”
Your panic kicks up a notch at how close he is, and how tightly he’s holding on to you. It’s becoming more obvious he’s not going to take no for an answer, and you’re desperately trying to think of ways to get away from him, or at the very least, stay in the crowded party room until someone finds you.
He steps more into your space and your mind goes blank with fear. Suddenly there’s a hand on the small of your back and you jump at the touch. “Shh, love, it’s just me,” you hear Sarah say and take a deep, relieved breath. You’re finally free from his hold and you lean into Sarah who wraps her arm tight around your waist.
You look up and see Mitch leaning over Ricky, talking so low that you can’t hear him, but whatever he says works and the man walks away looking both embarrassed and afraid. Mitch takes a deep breath before turning to you. He cups your face in his hand and asks, “Are you okay?”
Your eyes are wide with leftover fear and panic as you meet his, but you nod. “I’m okay,” you say quietly, but they’re both close enough to hear you.
“Okay. Good. Do you want to leave and go back to the house?”
You shake your head no. “I really don’t want to end the night on that note. Can we stay a little longer?”
“Yea, baby, whatever you want.”
“But just stay with me, okay?”
“Of course,” Sarah says.
Mitch adds, “We’re not leaving your side for a second.”
You take another minute to collect yourself and put a smile back on your face before sliding your hand into Sarah’s and leading her to the dance floor. At first, you’re not as into it as before, going through the motions rather than fully dancing. Eventually the rest of the band joins in and you feed off their positive vibes. By the time people start leaving an hour or so later you’ve basically forgotten about Ricky.
After another little while most of the people have gone. The music is turned down and the lights are still dim but brighter than before. Mitch leads you and Sarah over to one of the bars, where Harry now seems to be sitting by himself, a new drink in hand.
You had lost track of Harry an hour or so before, and it seems he had spent much of that time in this location. You’ve never seen him drunk before, and while he’s certainly not wasted, he’s not sober either. He has a sort of a lost, sad puppy look on his face.
“You alright man?” Mitch asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Yea, mate. I’m good,” Harry replies in a tone that indicates he’s definitely not as good as he says.
 Mitch gently takes the glass from his hand and places it on the bar and says, “I think it’s time to go. They’re starting to clean everything up.”
“I don’t want to go,” Harry replies. A beat later he continues, “I don’t want to be alone.”
Your heart breaks at the sadness in his voice and you share a look with Mitch and Sarah. You know they feel the same.
“You’re not going to be alone, love,” Sarah says gently. Harry looks up at her, not understanding. “We’re coming with you. Tours over. We’re all going to be together. And that can start tonight. Does that sound alright to you?”
His face lights up at this news. He nods and looks between the three of you, seeing smiles on all of your faces.
“Come on, let’s get going,” Mitch says, wrapping an arm around Harry and supporting him out to the car. Harry leans heavily on him, but you think this has less to do with being unsteadily drunk and more to do with seeking comfort from the physical touch. You know that’s what he’s doing because you’re doing the same with Sarah.
A large black Chevy Suburban is waiting outside for your group. You and Sarah climb into the back row and Mitch and Harry take the middle. You try to stay awake for the drive, but it turns out you’re heading straight to the beach villa which is two hours away. You fight sleep for the first few minutes, trying to watch the scenery outside, but Sarah sees what you’re doing. She knows that between working all day Friday and then immediately traveling to the show, you likely haven’t slept in close to 40 hours.
Her arm wraps around you and her hand presses gently on the side of your head. “Sleep my love,” she says. You stop trying to fight it and instead melt into her side, your head resting on her shoulder. You fall asleep immediately.
The sun is starting to rise by the time you arrive at the house. The others had all dozed off as well but wake up when you pull into the driveway. You, however, snuggle closer to Sarah, refusing to open your eyes. Mitch looks back and sees the predicament and says to Sarah, “Go in with Harry, I’ll take care of her.”
Sarah moves you so that you’re leaning against the window instead of against her. Mitch lowers the middle row of seats so that Sarah can get out and so he can reach you. He carries you into the house and finds the other two in the bedroom. Harry is setting out some of his clothes for everyone.
“I don’t think they knew where to bring your bags. We’ll get them here in the morning, but you can borrow these for now.” Mitch lays you on the bed and takes off your clothes from the day, pulling a large t-shirt over your head to cover you.
“If you guys want you can have this room, I’ll sleep in the other one,” Harry says.
Mitch and Sarah share a confused look. “Harry,” Sarah starts. “We were planning on you staying with us here. So that we’re all together.”
“Will we all fit?”
“Of course we will. Y/N typically sleeps on top of one of us anyway so technically she doesn’t take up any room,” Mitch says with a fond smile.
They climb into bed with you, Sarah next to you on one side with Harry on the other. Mitch checks the doors are locked before turning off the light and getting in next to Harry. Everyone falls asleep within minutes.
You wake up to bright sunlight in an unfamiliar room. You’re laying on top of someone, a male someone, but it isn’t Mitch. You think about everything you remember from the previous night, and panic. The only thing that comes to mind that could explain the current situation would be if Ricky had come back and somehow got you to go home with him.
You quickly sit up, moving so suddenly that you nearly fall off of the bed. Sarah catching you is the only reason you don’t fall to the floor. Seeing her is enough to break through the panic, and your brain finally wakes up enough to realize what’s going on.
You weren’t sleeping on Mitch, but he is right next to you. It was Harry underneath you. You’re embarrassed by your reaction, and disappointed that you ruined what should’ve been a sweet moment.
“Are you okay?” Harry asks. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”
“No! Not at all. I’m fine, I just got confused for a minute. There was a guy last night who was hitting on me and not taking no for an answer and when I woke up in a new place, I got scared thinking I was with him. Just freaked out for a second.”
“Who was it?”
“I think he said his name was Ricky.”
“I don’t know a Ricky. He must be one of the people management insisted we invite for networking. I can get the guest list, figure out exactly who he is if you want. Get him fired or something.”
His protectiveness has you feeling incredibly cared for, but you assure him that it’s fine.
“Can we just redo that?” you ask.
“What do you mean?” Sarah says.
“Redo the start of the day. It’s the first time all four of us are waking up together and I ruined it!”
“You did not ruin anything Y/N,” Mitch says. “You expressed real emotions, okay? We’ve talked about this; you can’t feel guilty for having feelings.”
“I know, I know! I’m not trying to ignore my feelings. But I want today to be a happy day. And I want to start it right. So can we please forget all that and redo?”
“Yes, love,” Sarah says. “We can start again if that’s what you’d like.”
“Thank you!” You crash into Harry, pushing him back so he’s once again laying down with you on top of him.
You lift your head off his chest to meet his eyes. “Good morning darling,” he says, and you smile as you say the same to him. You then turn to Mitch and Sarah and they each wish you good morning and place a kiss on your lips.
There’s a moment where no one knows what to do next, but Mitch makes a decision. He leans down so he’s level with Harry. Their eyes meet and slowly they inch their faces closer together. Finally, their lips meet. It’s a small press of their lips, chaste, almost domestic, like it’s something they’ve been doing to greet each other every morning for years.
When they pull back there’s a new light in Harry’s eyes. He looks happy and peaceful, like he’s been waiting for this forever. He turns his head, and since you’re still on top of him you think it’s your turn to properly greet him. But Sarah leans in, capturing his lips with her own. Mitch chuckles as you pout, but the expression quickly fades away as you watch the two of them.
While the kiss with Mitch was one of familiarity, and rekindling a romance, this is two people exploring each other for the first time. After years of friendship and working together, they now get to come together in this new way. They take a minute to get lost in one another, and you smile as you hear soft sighs from both of them.
They break apart and Harry looks to you. He brings his hands up to cup your cheeks and you move so close that your noses brush and you can feel his soft exhale on your skin.
“Is this okay?” he asks quietly, and you whisper “yes” before crashing your lips to his. His fingers slide through your hair, holding you close to him as his lips slot against yours. It’s a short kiss that has you craving more, but as you pull away you know it’s perfect for the moment.
“I want to have a proper date with you all,” Harry says.
“We’d love that,” Sarah answers.
“Tonight. I don’t want to waste another minute.”
The conversation is interrupted by knocking at the front door. You move so that Harry can get up and answer it. He walks back a minute later and lets you guys know that your luggage was just dropped off. Hearing that makes you realize how long it’s been since your last shower and so you open your bag and grab what you’ll need.
Everyone takes turns showering and getting ready. Once you’re done you realize you’re starving and look at the clock. You’re shocked to see it’s already past 2 in the afternoon. You head to the kitchen and see Harry making sandwiches for everyone.
“Anything I can help with?” you ask.
“Got a bunch of fruit in the fridge, can you help me cut that up?”
“Absolutely!”
You get to work, natural light streaming through the windows of the beautiful kitchen. The four of you sit down for lunch and then enjoy the afternoon sitting out by the pool. Luckily the house is set away and is completely private, allowing you all to be yourselves without fear of fans or paparazzi seeing.
By 5 o’clock you’re all inside getting dressed for the date. Harry had planned it all and told you to dress nice, but casual. You’re a bit confused but settle for a blue and white sun dress. You walk downstairs and see not only Harry, Sarah, and Mitch, but two other people as well.
“Y/N, I’d like you to meet Claudio and Mia. They’re going to be cooking dinner for us all tonight,” Harry says to introduce you. You shake their hands and say hello and you realize the date Harry has planned.
It’s perfect. A wonderfully cooked Italian meal here at the villa. There’s no risk of you all being spotted or overheard, and you’re free to have a true first date. If you’d all gone out, then you’d have to be careful about everything you say and do, but that’s not the case here.
The four of you make your way out to the patio and immediately open a bottle of wine, Harry filling everyone’s glasses. A few minutes later Mia brings out the first appetizer, a caprese salad that must be made with the freshest ingredients you’ve ever tasted. Next, she brings out a fig and goat cheese crostini, some of which are topped with prosciutto that makes your mouth water.
Dinner is just as delicious, homemade pasta topped with a sauce that is both decadent and light, bursting with flavor. After dinner, while you’re sharing the second bottle of wine, Claudio and Mia come out one last time. They inform you all that they are heading home, and dessert is plated in the kitchen whenever you’re ready.
You thank them profusely, telling them how much you loved everything, and Harry walks them out. He comes back and the four of you are once again alone. While dinner conversation had been quite casual, everyone learning more about each other, it starts to get a bit deeper.
“How exactly will this all work?” Harry asks.
“Well, obviously communication is the most important thing here,” Sarah replies. “Everyone needs to be honest and open about anything they’re feeling. If we hide things from each other that will create problems.”
“And what about publicly? We can’t really go and tell the fans all four of us are together.”
Mitch answers this time saying, “No but we could just say that you and Y/N are together. She’s been seen enough with us, people probably have assumed by now she’s our friend. You’d say we introduced the two of you and you hit it off. And because she’s our friend it would make sense for all of us to be seen together.”
“Lots of double dates in our future,” Sarah says with a wink.
Harry turns to you and asks, “Are you okay with that? Dating me publicly?”
“I am. I know that it’ll probably come with some pushback from fans and things like that, but I really think this could work. And we’ll all be happy.” Harry leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s innocent enough and first, just a couple of quick pecks.
He pulls back and his eyes meet yours. There’s a moment where he watches you, his gaze intense, and the next thing you know his lips are back on you. Even though the kiss is firm, his lips feel wonderfully soft against yours as he takes control of the kiss. You feel his hand move to your thigh and you gasp, opening your mouth and allowing for his tongue to enter.
“Maybe we should head inside,” Mitch suggests. You bite back a whine as Harry pulls away, already missing the feeling of his lips. Everyone stands and heads inside to the bedroom. It honestly should feel weird, the group of you moving in near silence, but the energy is one of excited anticipation.
You pause once inside the room, unsure of what to do next. There are so many options, too many choices, and you do not want to be the one making any. You look to Mitch, who sees the hesitation from all of you, and he takes control of the situation.
“Harry and Y/N, lay next to each other,” he says. You both follow his directions as he turns to speak with Sarah. You’re only left wondering what their plan is for a moment before they also climb on the bed, Mitch straddling Harry while Sarah does the same to you.
She leans in to kiss you, her tongue sliding in immediately. She swallows the whine you let out, and all you can think of is her. It’s been over a month, and you’ve missed them all so much, you’ve been starving for their touches.
After a little while (truly you have no idea how long) you feel Mitch’s hand pick yours up and he places it on Harry’s thigh. A second later you feel Harry’s hand on you. It starts moving higher on your leg, sliding under your skirt. Sarah shifts only so that you can spread your legs a bit but continues to keep her lips on yours.
Harry’s hand moves again, this time to press two fingers to your clit over your underwear and you’re gasping in pleasure at this touch alone. You automatically grab his thigh and realize that your hand hasn’t moved since Mitch placed it there. You decide to follow Harry’s lead and slide it up his thigh. You and Harry let out matching moans as you finally grip Harry’s hard length over his shorts.
You feel Harry pull away for a second before he slips his fingers under your panties to touch you directly. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being touched so intimately. Summoning confidence that you didn’t know you possess, you slide your hand under his layers of clothing. There’s a moment where you hesitate, unsure if it’s okay to touch him directly. He senses your inner debate and guides your hand to his cock, letting you know it’s absolutely okay with him.
You grip your fist around his length and pump him a few times. The noises he makes only turn you on more. Your other hand travels down to Sarah’s leg, and you move under her skirt and waste no time sliding your fingers into her underwear to rub through her folds.
She’s soaking, and you easily push two fingers inside her.
“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans before starting to leave love bites along your neck. She pulls back and looks to her side, saying, “Mitch, switch with me.”
He gives Harry one last deep kiss before pulling away from him. Sarah gently pushes your fingers out of her so she can move to Harry’s lap. “Are you clean?” she asks him as they help each other out of their clothes.
“Yes, got checked a couple weeks ago, haven’t been with anyone since.”
“Good,” she says, running her entrance above the tip of his cock. “Is this okay?” she asks him.
“Please, yes,” he practically begs, and she sinks onto him. You’re watching them so intently that you don’t notice Mitch at first. That changes the second he pulls your panties off and his hard cock grazes your sensitive clit.
He brings his hand to your entrance, pushing in one finger at a time to open you and ensure you’re ready for him. A moment later his fingers are gone and you feel his cock lining up. His eyes meet yours in a silent question and you nod your head, wrapping your legs to bring him closer to tell him that you want this, want him desperately.
He slowly pushes inside you and you let out a broken moan at the feeling of being filled for the first time in over a month. You pull Mitch’s face down to yours, having realized that you’ve barely had the chance to kiss him all weekend, and you need to remedy that immediately.
The time that follows is both blissful, and a bit confusing. Everyone’s hands are traveling over any limb they can find, kisses being pressed against any bit of bare skin.
You and Harry are the first to come, nearly simultaneously while his tongue is sliding against yours. A moment later you hear the cries that can only mean Sarah has followed the two of you. Finally, you feel Mitch’s thrusts stutter as he finishes inside you.
Everyone comes down from their high, Sarah pulling off and laying next to Harry. Mitch moves to pull out of you but you hold him close and whisper, “Not yet, please.”
“Okay, baby, I’m here,” he answers, leaning down so that you can tuck your face into his neck. After a couple minutes you release your hold on him. Sarah has already snuck out to grab a couple of damp washcloths from the bathroom and she helps everyone clean up.
You all get ready for bed, checking in that everyone is okay with what just happened. Not one of you has any complaints or uncomfortable feelings, and you fall asleep content that the four of you will work just fine together.
The rest of the week in Italy is absolutely perfect. Your group has plenty of time to spend together and your personalities fit together wonderfully. There are a few more discussions regarding the dynamics of the relationship which helps you all feel secure with one another.
During the middle of the week Harry rents out a couple of boats and you all spend the day on the water. Gemma and a few others join you and it is absolute perfection.
At one point Harry wanders to the kitchen area and a moment later Sarah follows him. While he’s been enjoying the day as much as everyone else, she can tell he’s bothered by something and is determined out figure out what it is.
They talk for a few minutes while making drinks for everyone, and after a beat of silence Sarah finally asks, “What is it Harry?”
“Not sure what you mean. I’m fine.”
“No you’re not love, something’s bothering you.”
He takes a deep breath and says, “I know there’s paparazzi watching us. And other people are here. And I guess I am used to hiding a lot of my life but this time feels different. I don’t want to hide our relationship.”
Sarah places a comforting hand on his arm and says, “I completely understand. I know it’s not ideal that we can’t all be together publicly, but if you’re ready, nothing is stopping you from being with Y/N in front of the camera. Whatever comes from that, we’ll make it work.”
Harry smiles, eased by Sarah’s words of wisdom.
They walk back to the main area where the rest of you are hanging out and Harry sits down next to you, closer than he usually would in public. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you give him a look. He can tell that you’re confused by the gesture, but not mad or uncomfortable.
He leans in and quietly asks, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
“Of course you can.”
“I mean, in front of everyone. With paps watching over there.”
“Yes Harry. That’s perfectly fine with me,” you answer with a smile.
He cups your face, pulling you close to him. He hesitates with his lips mere centimeters away and you whisper “It’s okay, Harry.” A millisecond later his lips crash against yours. He presses firmly against you, a series of chaste kisses on your mouth, nose, and forehead. When you look up you see everyone watching the two of you.
Mitch and Sarah are looking over, warm smiles on their faces. After a beat, Gemma jumps up and rushes over to give the two of you a hug. “I told mum weeks ago you two would be perfect!”
The rest of the day is absolutely wonderful. After sailing in the sun for the afternoon you all head back for dinner at a beautiful restaurant.
You, Harry, Mitch, and Sarah get to the house just after sunset. Immediately you fall into bed, not wanting to waste another moment. You explore each other’s bodies once again. Harry proves without a shadow of a doubt that he is a gentleman, checking in with you constantly as he slides into you for the first time, stretching you more than you’ve ever been before.
As you’re all catching your breath, trying to readjust the mess of covers, you can’t help but start to giggle. It’s contagious and suddenly the four of you are laughing, though no one’s entirely sure why.
You finally calm down enough to say, “I can’t believe this is my life.”
“Well, believe it baby,” Harry says. “Because we’re not going anywhere.”
“Good.” You reply, shifting everyone so that you’re laying across all three of them. With your head on Mitch’s chest, torso being held by Harry, and legs tangling with Sarah, you fall asleep.
Your last thoughts of the night are about how indescribably happy you are that you’ve found your home and have started a perfect family.
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@akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @theekyliepage @numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry @ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess @houseofdilfs @shaquille-0atmeal-1 @kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye
AN: Thank you again for reading this story! Can't wait to share more with you all!
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mint-yooxgi · 1 year
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{23} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor
Pairing: Ateez X Reader 
Words: 8,448
Warnings: Intense/Extreme Violence: mental and physical torture, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Mental Illness: depression, anxiety, failed suicide mention and pointed verbal assault regarding failed suicide attempt, Blood and Gore, Slut Shaming, Past Smut mentioned, OC really goes through the wringer this chapter, but nothing is done or said by any of the guys. I think that’s everything. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: I have been planning this chapter since the very beginning of this story, so I really hope that if you read it, you enjoy it. OC really goes through it, but I think OC stays pretty strong. Reminder, if any of the topics of this chapter make you uncomfortable, please do not read it. I am more than happy to do a jot point list with the key plot points you may have missed by skipping this part of the series. Just let me know! The next chapter will have some serious action in it, and the boys will return. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~
Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Mini Masterlist
“Miyeon,” the low gasp of her name falling from your lips is synonymous with the way Kuroo lets out a threatening hiss beside you.
Three things happen then, simultaneously. 
In the instant you go to reach out to all eight of them within your mind, it feels as if a glass case is slamming down over your void. No matter how hard you try to break through, the invisible wall prevents you from being able to contact any of them. The black water of your void ripples against this barrier, splashing against the sides as panic begins to seize your entire body.
Your only way to contact them has now been cut off.
All while this was occurring, Kuroo had lunged at Miyeon. 
Too easily, she deflects his attack. An invisible force knocks Kuroo back, slamming him into the wall quite harshly and causing a loud cry to escape him. As soon as he hits the floor, he attempts to stand back to his feet, only for that invisible force to begin crushing his sides. 
“No!” Without thinking, you attempt to reach for Kuroo in the next second, seeing him struggling to breathe as more whimpers escape his little body.
The next moment, you feel yourself being slammed against the wall, a hand digging into your throat and cutting off any and all air to your lungs. Miyeon’s nails dig so harshly into your skin, that you can feel the trickles of blood beginning to drip down the side of your neck where her nails puncture your skin.
“Ah-ah, none of that,” she tuts, shaking her head as she meets your gaze. “Don’t go ruining our fun before it’s even started, Love.”
The way she mockingly drawls out the nickname has disgust flooding your veins. The glare you send her way is deadly, but it seems to only amuse her for the time being.
A moment of silence passes as she eases her hold on your throat just the slightest.
“I can’t have you dying on me just yet,” she grins, nails still harshly digging into your skin. “I have much planned for you.”
You blink, yet nothing happens. Still, you hear the muted whines of Kuroo in the background, becoming less and less frequent the more time passes. 
Your heart absolutely aches for him right now. All he wanted to do was defend you, and he ended up getting hurt. If only you could reach out and contact at least one of the guys to inform them of your situation, but that damn glass wall keeps blocking your every attempt.
Faintly, you hear Miyeon curse, looking to the side.
“Damn warlock,” she hisses, releasing her hand from your throat. “I knew he would end up being good for nothing. Can’t even get us out like he promised.”
Immediately, you start coughing, gasping for air. You attempt to move away, but the glint of a dagger suddenly held to your throat has you freezing in your tracks.
“Well, since that good for nothing warlock’s magic doesn’t seem to be working, looks like I’ll have to improvise.” She sighs. “So much for the manhunt I had planned.”
“I’m not playing any of your stupid games,” you go to shove her off of you, but she barely moves an inch.
“You think you have any power here?” She laughs, pressing the blade that much further into your skin, and drawing a faint trickle of blood as the edge slices your throat. “You’re dumber than I thought.”
“Choking me? Pressing a blade to my throat?” You quirk a brow, gritting your teeth for the moment. “If I didn’t know any better, Miyeon, I’d say you’re obsessed with me. At least buy me a drink first.”
“Shut up, you stupid whore,” the back of her hand sends you tumbling to the floor. Her eyes flash black as she stands over you, looking down at you from her nose. “Well, since we can’t leave now, why don’t you give me a tour of my new home. I’ll be living here after I kill you, anyways.”
You realize what she must mean now. The wards are too strong. She may have been able to get in, but now she can’t get out. Not even with the aid of Dimitri, apparently.
You just hope you can survive long enough until the guys get back. Though, from the looks of things, you bet everything that that’s what she’s hoping will happen, too.
What better way than to break them by killing you right in front of their very own eyes?
Swallowing thickly, your gaze scans over her figure. A second dagger is strapped to her one thigh, and you finally register the one that she holds in her hand. The jewelled handle is all too familiar to you, and you realize with a crushing sense of dread that she was the one who bought the ceremonial dagger from David’s shop all those weeks ago.
“Your new home?” You slowly begin to crawl backwards and away from her. Only, Miyeon doesn’t seem to like that, stepping on your ankle quite harshly in the next second. 
The sound of crunching bones reaches your ears and pain erupts beneath your skin. You can barely move your toes, but you do everything in your power to prevent yourself from crying out in pain. After all, it’s exactly what Miyeon wants.
“You don’t get to ask questions here.” She spits, eyes narrowed as she glares down at your form still on the ground. “Get up, and show me around my new home.”
Gritting your teeth once more, you slowly raise yourself to your feet. However, you cannot prevent the wince of pain from showing on your features as you put any sort of pressure on your now broken ankle. Wordlessly, you begin to limp down the hallway. 
Your hands clench into fists at your sides in an attempt to control your anger for the moment. The way you can hear her ominous footfalls following mere inches behind you has you praying to whatever gods out there that at least one of the guys returns soon to help you. 
Still, you attempt to reach out to any one of them in your mind. One second, you focus your energy in on that vibrant red string you know is attached to Hongjoong’s own mind to no avail. Then, you’re rushing across your void to try and pluck the soft pink string you know belongs to San, only for what feels like a harsh burning sensation to erupt in your mind.
Now, at each point of contact, that burning becomes more present, pushing you further back into the recesses of your own mindscape. So, you still your void, doing whatever you can to rest mentally before you wear yourself out. If Miyeon is blacking your communication with the boys, then she clearly doesn’t want them interrupting whatever she has planned for you. Not only that, but she obviously wants to break through to shatter whatever she can of your mental state, if that throbbing pain returning is anything to go by. You would bet anything now that she had been the cause of your various headaches over the past few months this whole time.
Approaching the first door, you don’t even say anything as she steps inside your own bedroom.
“Disgusting,” her nose crinkles. “I’m going to have to seriously air out this room to get rid of your scent before I even attempt to sleep in here. Then again, maybe I’ll just have to fuck all of them one by one in the bed to mask the stench of you.”
Something in your eyes flash. “Like hell they’d ever touch you.”
“They did, once,” she grins, shoving you quite harshly down the hallway as she steps out of the room. “I doubt you’ve been able to truly satisfy them. You’ve probably fucked them all over this house, you slut, letting them use you like the toy you are. I’m simply trying to save you the heartache. They don’t love you. They never have, and they never will.”
You bite your tongue as your eyes flash once more. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, but you know it would be in your best interest to keep your mouth shut for the moment. The last thing you want is to set her off and really have her kill you. The guys can’t help you if you’re dead.
“Keep moving,” she shoves you again, causing you to brace yourself on that broken ankle of yours. The way you flinch as you apply sudden pressure to the crushed bones has a maniacal smile stretching across her features. “Believe me, when I’m done with you, that foot will feel like child’s play.”
Keeping silent, you press your lips into a thin line. You manage to make it through the game room, Mingi’s bar area, the kitchen, the dance studio, and the cinema room all without another incident. Of course, Miyeon makes little comments here and there, hoping to rile you up, mainly about fucking them ‘where you have before’. You can just tell she’s attempting to assert her dominance over you, but you’re not having it for one second.
Finally, you make it to the music room, watching as she steps inside. The way she continuously looks around the rooms with such disinterest has your blood boiling.
“They really did all of this for you?” She scoffs, shaking her head. “Pathetic.”
Then, her eyes are catching on one instrument in particular. An instrument that has you hobbling across the room in an instant as you see her reach for it.
The sound of a smack echoes quite harshly through the room, and you watch as Miyeon’s nostrils flare. Her eyes flash as you hit her hand away from touching Yeosang’s violin for a second time.
“Don’t you dare touch his violin.” You’re voice is low, deadly.
For a moment, you can tell that she’s caught off guard. The glare you send her way is the darkest she’s ever seen you look, and she actual blinks in shock. That is, until a harsh scowl is pulling at her features.
In an instant, she’s grabbed the wrist of the hand you used to smack her own with, crushing it beneath her grip. Your lips part in a silent gasp, arm twisting in the direction she’s forcing you to go before flinging you across the room without another thought.
A pain filled cry escapes your lips as your back makes contact with the grand piano, landing on top of the wood and managing to smash the lid inwards. Before you can even attempt to move, you feel a crushing weight surrounding you, hearing the strings begin to snap beneath your body as they whip across your exposed flesh. Blood begins swelling along the small cuts, and you feel the legs of the piano crumble as you crash to the floor.
Nothing but crushed wood and snapped strings surround you, tiny slivers sticking into your skin as you attempt to catch your breath. Tears line your vision, but you do everything in your power to prevent them from falling for the moment. There is no way in hell you are going to allow Miyeon the pleasure to see you cry, or hear you scream. You will not succumb to her so easily. You are not going to give her what she wants.
Vaguely, you can register footsteps walking towards you, and again, you attempt to reach out to Yunho in your mind. That bright yellow string glares at you from behind the invisible wall, and you nearly cry out in frustration.
So close, yet so far.
“Oh, come on, don’t tell me that that was enough to kill you,” Miyeon rolls her eyes, kicking your foot quite harshly on the side of your broken ankle.
You hiss in response, watching as she leans down to physical pull you out of the remains of the smashed piano. You can feel wooden splinters digging into your back, and probably drawing even more blood in their wake.
“Stand up, you stupid human,” she hisses, kicking you once more as she rights herself. “I don’t have all day.”
Putting any sort of pressure onto your now crushed wrist has a searing pain travelling up your arm. You can feel your whole body throb as you move, your ankle groaning in protest. The worst twinge comes from the middle of your back, sure you’ve probably herniated a disc in your spine as you feel a pinch every time you go to move.
Yet still, you remain alive. Like hell you’ll let her kill you.
Keeping your head held high, and your tears at bay, you begin to exit the room. Of course, you do whatever you can to prevent your limp from slowing you down right now, cradling your wrist to your chest as you make your way back down the hallway. You will not let on just how hurt you are, even if your head begins to throb worse with each passing moment.
The dining room is the next to appear as you lead her down the side corridor. A room of which you surprisingly haven’t been to since that evening all those months ago.
But Miyeon doesn’t know that.
“Ugh, how many times have they indulged themselves in you on this table?” Her face contorts in disgust. “Guess that will have to be replaced. I don’t need reminders of whores in my house.”
Let her think what she wants, it won’t make her hate you any less than she already does. Not to mention the fact that she probably wouldn’t believe you even if you tried.
Oddly enough, when you pass by each of their bedrooms, Miyeon doesn’t even bother to look. Granted, none of their doors remain open, a habit you’ve noticed they all have since you started living with them.
Finally, you make it to Seonghwa’s tailor shop, and Miyeon doesn’t even hesitate to invite herself in.
“I wonder if he’s working on something actually good,” she hums, almost thoughtfully, to herself.
Your nostrils flare, that familiar heat of anger rushing through your veins.
“Oh, what’s this?” She turns to look at you with a quirked brow, slinging her arm around a bust which holds one of the most extravagant dresses you’ve ever seen in your life. 
The skirt flares out at the waist, knowing without a doubt that the soft colour is meant to match well with you. You can tell that a lot of thought and effort has gone into this literal definition of a ballgown fit for a Queen, and you just know that Seonghwa has been making this dress for you. It was probably what he was working on before Stella came to get them.
“Oh, this will never do,” she tuts, shaking her head.
You can see what she’s about to do before she even starts. The way her hand raises to the sweetheart neckline has you moving in an instant. Guess you’ll never learn.
“No!”
This time, she’s ready for you to pounce, batting you away like she would a pesky little fly.
You stumble to the floor, landing harshly on your wrist and hearing it crack again in protest. Looking up just in time, you watch her pull out that damned jewelled dagger and begin slashing at the material. Miyeon even goes so far as to tear the fabric with her hands, shredding the delicate detailing, and tossing the scraps around the room.
“Stop it!” Your voice comes out much more firm that you expect, and you can tell she’s just as caught off guard by it as well.
“You dare to give me orders?” Her voice booms, the lights in the room seemingly dimming as her form towers over you. The dagger she has clutched in her hand glints dangerously. “One more protest out of you, and I’ll make you regret the day you were ever born.”
Your blood runs cold as you know her words are true. There is no telling just what Miyeon will do to you, so prolonging this little ‘tour’ for as long as you can is really your best bet. 
The eight of them will be back soon. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. You don’t know if you could survive without that small shred of hope you desperately cling onto as your attempt to once again reach out to Jongho is thwarted in your own mind.
Two minutes later, and after Miyeon completely leaves Seonghwa’s tailor shop in tatters, you’re in the library. Your heart begins to pound in uncertainty as to what Miyeon will do next, worry furrowing your brow. Though, from the way you see Miyeon smirk, you’re convinced she believes it’s in pain.
“What makes you so fucking special that they would do all of this for you? A library? Really?” She shakes her head, clear disbelief on her features. “Pathetic.”
“It’s more than they’d ever do for you.” You spit, venom on your tongue.
Looks like you really cannot control yourself today.
Instantly, her hand is back around your throat, lifting you in the air so that your feet dangle helplessly beneath you. You go to kick her, only for that invisible force to be back, squeezing tightly around your legs.
“When I’m through with them, they’ll do everything I want them to.” She snarls, voice low as anger pulls at her features. “Without question.”
“They will never love you.” You choke out, clawing desperately at her hand as her nails manage to reopen the punctures on your neck.
“No, maybe not,” she hums, tilting her head threateningly. “At least not willingly, but I have my ways.”
With that, she throws you harshly against the closest bookshelf, a few books toppling off and crashing into your body as they fall to the floor. You wince as a particularly thick hardcover hits the top of your head, leaving you in a slight daze.
With nothing but hatred in your eyes, you watch as she walks over to the double doors at the far end of the library. Ungracefully, she flings them open, her whole body shaking in fury as she sees the garden presented before her very eyes.
“They made you a garden?” Her voice is low, ominous as she turns her gaze sharply to you. At the way you remain silent, she snaps. “Speak, you useless mortal!”
“You have eyes, don’t you?” You retort, narrowing your own gaze back at her. 
You know your worth. You’re not just going to let her walk all over you anymore. She doesn’t deserve to believe she has that type of power over you.
That same unknown force pulls you towards her, and you notice her still shaking in fury.
“Watch your tone, mortal,” she hisses, grabbing the material of your shirt as she spits harshly in your face. “I’m this close to changing my plans and skinning you alive right where you stand.”
“At least tease me if you’re going to fuck me over like that,” you smirk, hoping to rile her up even more.
At the way she shrieks in response, shoving you back in an instant, you know it’s worked.
Unfortunately for you, it causes you to land badly once more on your fractured ankle, and this time, you cannot hide your grimace. A fact which has a smirk of her own tugging at her lips.
“Weak,” she spits, rolling her eyes. “Looks like I’ll have to burn this place to the ground to sanitize it before building it anew with my Kings.”
“If they don’t burn you first.” You spit back, just as harshly, a sneer tugging at your lips.
“Have you ever smelt the way fire melts human flesh?” Miyeon’s eyes are crazed, hand coming up to grip your jaw harshly as she forces you to turn your head to the garden spread out before you. “It’s quite disgusting: the way your frail skin bubbles beneath the heat, the smoke choking every last breath from your scorched lungs.” Slowly, you begin to see the plants begin to wither as she drags you towards the fountain still trickling peacefully in the centre of the space. “I can’t wait to watch you burn.”
Before another word of protest can leave your lips, she’s shoving your head beneath the water. No matter how hard you struggle, or attempt to resist her hold, you cannot break free. 
Your lungs scream desperately for air. Water invades your senses, flooding your nose and slipping past your parted lips as you do whatever you can to fight against Miyeon’s hold for the moment. Not even the way your own nails claw at her skin causes her to flinch.
A maniacal grin stretches across her features once more as she sees you struggling to breathe. Of course, just as she feels your body weakening, she pulls you back, holding your gaze to her crazed one as you wheeze, coughing water from your lungs all the while.
“It would be so easy to kill you in whatever way I see fit,” she says, voice mocking sympathy. “You should remember that the next time you want to run your mouth. In fact, you should be thanking me for keeping you alive this long after you stole My King from me.”
You do not fail to notice how she uses the singular form of that word this time, and your whole body shudders in disgust. Only, Miyeon believes it’s in fear. A fact which makes her grin widen.
“Once I free that mind of yours, you’ll be grovelling at my feet, practically begging me to kill you,” she leans in, whispering lowly in your ear. A violent shiver wracks your spine as you heave for air. “I have no use for filth in my New World.”
Again, your head throbs, and you nearly fall to the ground in pain. With everything that you are, you focus on strengthening that void in your mind. It seems as if she hasn’t quite been able to break through completely yet, and you will do whatever you can to make sure that she cannot.
The worst part is, the stronger you reinforce your void, the more your head throbs. It’s like she’s practically coaxing you to lower your defences to make that pain go away.
Her face scrunches in annoyance.
“Ugh, why do you insist on fighting me?” She begins to drag you out of the now dead garden and up the stairs to the second story of the library. “This stupid void of yours won’t protect you for much longer. I’ve already cut off all contact with them from you, and it will only get worse from here. You should just give in. I promise I’ll make all the pain go away then.”
“There is no promise you can make that will make me ever surrender to you.” You spit, tone harsh as she drags you out of the library for the moment.
“You really are dumber than I thought,” she sighs, shoving you in front of her. “Continue the tour of my new home.”
You say nothing as you stumble down the hall. You can feel the material of your shirt clinging to your chest as water drips down your torso. Once more, you cradle your wrist to your body, the bones pulsing as the struggle at the fountain aggravated the break. Even your back twinges worse than before, given the angle Miyeon had you pinned down in. Your ankle is fairing no better, either.
At least the small cuts all over your body have seemed to have stopped bleeding. For now.
For the second time that day, Miyeon completely ignores the bedrooms on this side of the house. Which leaves only one room left.
A room which you will guard with your life.
“Move.” She commands, just as you fling yourself in front of the closed door.
“I would rather burn alive than let you into this room.” Your voice trembles in anger, keeping your tone low and somewhat threatening.
“What’s so fucking special about this room, anyways?” Her face contorts in a sneer, inhaling sharply. “It reeks of Yunho.”
Your nostrils flare, eyes flashing as pure hatred courses through your veins at the tone she uses. “You don’t deserve to speak his name.”
“This must be his stupid art room.” She huffs out a breath. “I don’t know why he even bothers. He’s not even that good of an artist-“
You lunge.
The sound of smashing wood greets your ears, and the breath gets knocked right out of your lungs as Miyeon lands on top of you. The shattered remains of the door lay around you, splinters once again digging harshly into your back as she begins to choke the life out of you.
“How dare you!” She screeches. “You dare try and lay your hands on me? Me?”
Desperately, you claw at her hands, scratching her harshly and drawing blood only for her cuts to instantly heal in the next second. In the blink of an eye, that jewelled dagger is back at your throat.
“I was willing to skip this room, but because of how passionate you seem to be in protecting it, I think I’ll leave a little gift for him to find.” Purposely, she slashes a faint line on your neck as she pulls away, standing off of you in the next second.
Your entire body throbs, vision blurring at the edges as you turn yourself onto your stomach. Your mind screams at you to move as she slowly stalks around the room, twirling the dagger in her hands as she begins to hum to herself.
Quirking her brow, she shifts past the couch and walks right up to the dried out flower crown hanging proudly on the wall beside the windows. Slowly, she begins reaching for it.
“Don’t touch that.” You manage to just push yourself up onto your hands and knees, blood rushing through your ears.
Her smug grin says it all.
Instantly, she’s tearing the object from the wall, pulling the brittle flowers apart and laughing as they crumble to the floor.
Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. Pushing yourself up even further, you can only collapse back to the floor in pain, your arms giving out beneath you as your whole body trembles.
A moment later, and she’s walked over to his shelves, pulling a sketchbook into her hands. As soon as she opens the cover, a scowl is pulling at her lips, taking the time to tear each page out one by one. Slowly.
“Stop it!” You yell, eyes shining with unshed tears as you watch each sketch flutter to the floor, displaying every piece of artwork he has drawn of you. For you.
Miyeon’s maniacal laughter fills your ears. “Do you actually think any of these are good?”
Her breath catches in her throat as her eyes flash black as seeing the next drawing presented to her on the page.
“What is the meaning of this?” Instantly, the sketchbook is shoved in your face.
Of all the pictures you would have thought she would put on display - the one of your hands intertwined with Yunho’s, you with Brego in that open field, the portrait he drew of you that day where you fully claimed each other with one another’s blood - you never expected it to be one you haven’t seen before.
There, on the page before you, rests your image. Swirls like wisps of smoke cover your naked torso, a design unlike any other painted over your heart as you toss your head back in pleasure. From the angle, and the way your one arm is positioned, you can tell that this is his own memory being drawn onto paper once more. For there, staring back at you is the exact visage of your body, orgasming as you sat on his face.
Your wide eyes meet Miyeon’s wild ones, a fury unlike anything you’ve seen before shining within her gaze.
The page is torn to shreds.
“You vile creature,” you hiss, hands clenching into fists on the ground as you glance at all of the scattered pages torn from Yunho’s sketchbook littering the floor.
“Takes one to know one,” she grins, turning the book around only to scowl in the next second. “You really are a whore.”
Another page is torn to shreds. Then another, and another. Until a snarl is slipping passed her lips once more.
“You slut! You let him watch?” Again, she turns the sketchbook around to display the drawing on the page. 
This time, you see your image being held in Jongho’s lap, his face pressed into the side of your neck as Wooyoung kneels before you. With the way his hands are pressing into your thighs, it’s clear that he’s happy to be eating you out, your fingers tangled desperately in his hair. Even with your head tilted back, your blissed out expression is obvious, lips parted in what you’re sure is a moan.
“Just how many times have you let the others watch as one of them fucks you? You really let them use you like this?” She laughs in disbelief, shaking her head in the next second as she tears this page out of the book. “Fucking whore. I bet you’re so fucking cockdrunk on them you don’t even care about who they actually are.”
White hot fury courses through your veins as your head throbs, and you feel your void slip the tiniest bit. You can tell she jumps at this opportunity, watching as the water ripples out, your mind feeling as if the whole area is rumbling within your skull.
“Says the bitch who only cares about herself.” You retort, teeth clenching as your jaw twitches.
“I simply learned from those Kings of yours,” her voice is low as she slams the sketchbook closed, tossing it across the room.
It is then that her eyes land on the lone canvass resting upon an easel at the side of the room.
“Oh? What’s this?” She hums, as if she hadn’t glanced the painting the second she crashed into the room.
Your eyes go wide, panic seizing your throat and causing it to tighten as you watch her twirl the dagger in her hand once more. Slowly, she stalks towards that stunning portrait of you wearing that flower crown. 
Yunho’s prized possession, other than you, of course.
Miyeon raises her one hand, jewelled dagger glinting in the light of the setting sun.
Your legs move before you even register you’ve stood to your feet.
In one fluid motion, Miyeon brings the dagger down with every intention to slash the canvass in two. Only, instead of tearing apart the portrait, your figure shoving into her side sends the dagger tumbling from her hand. The two of you go crashing to the floor, and it takes no time at all for Miyeon to be on top of your struggling figure, pinning you beneath her frenzied form.
A gasp escapes your lips as she grabs you jaw harshly in her grip, raising your head up only to slam it back to the ground. 
Spots dance in your vision, and again, your void ripples from the sudden attack. Your entire body aches, heart stuttering in your chest as your lungs burn with each breath you take.
While you remain momentarily stunned, Miyeon is quick to stand back to her feet, grabbing her fallen dagger and turning back to the painting. Again, she raises the knife.
This time, you manage to swing your legs, catching her off guard as she tumbles to the floor. You manage to scramble to your feet just as she does the same, jumping in front of her as she slashes her arm upwards to finally cut the canvass.
The feeling of the tip of the blade dragging across the front of your body has a grunt escaping you, Your shirt now rests in tatters, barely clinging together by a thread as red begins to soak into the material.
“Fine!” She shouts. “Since you want to die that badly, I am more than happy to begin the process!”
In the blink of an eye, she’s wrapped her hand back around your neck, cutting off your air flow as she drags you from the room. The way she can see your blood dripping onto the ground as she pulls you down the stairs, legs kicking uselessly behind you, has a smirk pulling at her features.
She knows just the place to do it, too.
The moment she reaches the opposite side of the house, she’s shoving the door to the dance studio open. Your struggling form is dragged carelessly into the room, Miyeon throwing your body against the wall of mirrors and watching on with glee as one of the panels shatters from the impact.
You can feel blades of glass sticking into your back, more blood escaping your broken and beaten body. As soon as you go to move, your head spins, nausea building in our chest as you attempt to catch yourself on your broken wrist.
The moment your wrist touches the floor, bile rises in your throat. You can barely catch your breath as you empty the contents of your stomach onto the ground, blood dripping from your mouth as tears gather in your eyes. Your head is absolutely pounding right now, becoming as worse as it had been last night. Your skull feels as if it will split open at any moment. Any attempts to swallow the bitterness that lingers in your mouth burns your throat, breaths coming in ragged pants as Miyeon stalks towards you like a predator would its prey.
“You’re going to watch as I carve you up so badly, they won’t even be able to recognize you when they get back,” she growls, dragging a chair over from the side of the room to place it directly in front of one of the intact mirrors. “And then, you’re going to have the pleasure of watching their hearts be crushed as I destroy you as soon as they return.”
Miyeon grabs you by the back of the neck, right where your skull meets your spine. Squeezing enough to have your vision swirling once more, she pulls you to your feet, slamming you down in the chair in the next second. You barely register her tying your wrists to the arms of the seat you’re in, wondering where she got the material to do such a thing. In the back of your mind, you figure she probably stole something from Seonghwa’s tailor shop.
Blinking, you focus back in on your surroundings. Again, you work on keeping your void intact as you feel that pounding ice pick like sensation return, eyes squeeing shut as your breathing deepens. Whatever you do, you will not give in. Besides, the guys should be home any minute now. Right?
Glancing down at your figure, you notice your shirt has been torn off, blood dripping freely down your torso from the cut she gave you back in the art room.
“I’ve been waiting to use this,” she grins, pulling the other dagger from it’s holster on her thigh.
The dagger she admires is clean, an intricate design gracing the handle from what you can see. It’s certainly longer than the other one, a slight jagged edge sitting right above where the blade meets the pommel. From the glint alone, you can tell that it’s pure silver, polished and sharpened meticulously: with the utmost care.
“A shame I don’t have the matching one,” she pouts mockingly. “Though, after today, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about the set being separated for much longer.”
Your brow furrows in confusion, hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly as she paces slowly around your shaking form. The way your heart continues to pound in your chest has a nervous sweat breaking out onto your forehead. Your body feels way too hot for the time being, throat raw with the dryness of anxiety. The bitter taste of bile resides on your tongue, and you can only do your best to watch Miyeon’s every move carefully, following her figure in the reflection of the mirror when you cannot see her in front of you.
Stopping just behind your back, Miyeon meets your gaze in the mirror.
“You know,” she begins, shoving the dagger deep into your back as you body lurches forward in response. “I almost missed out on this entire opportunity.”
The way she slowly removes the dagger has you feeling every inch of the blade as she pulls it from your body. You begin to pant, gritting your teeth together to keep the whimper from falling your lips that so desperately wants to escape.
“It must have been so difficult for you,” you manage to spit out, voice strained as she stabs you once more in your back, only in a different spot.
“You have no idea,” she breathes, repeating the action once more. “That idiot almost ruined everything.”
It is then that you realize what she’s doing. Each new stab she gives you is in exactly the same places as those arrows were that pierced your back all those weeks ago.
Your eyes flash in recognition. “The warlock.”
“Looks like I made him too devoted to me,” she hums, nonchalantly. “Damn bastard thought I would be so ecstatic to know he killed you himself when I explicitly told him the honour would be mine. Guess that’s what happens when you alter somebody’s mind so intensely.”
“He wanted to kill me for you.” You state, just as she walks around to face you, leaning over your body as her one hand rests on the back of the chair.
“Thought it would prove his love for me,” she rolls her eyes. “I already know how devoted he is. After all-“ she catches herself, a smug grin pulling at her lips, “no, I shouldn’t boast.”
“Oh, please, Your Majesty,” you drawl out, suppressing the roll of your eyes as you attempt to stroke her ego for the moment. If you can pull as much information out of her as you can, you will. It will help you tremendously. “Boast away.”
“Well, if you insist,” she giggles, that same maniacal grin stretching across her features. “It took me a while to perfect it, but I finally learned how to weave myself so fully into someone’s mind that they becomes completely devoted to me. Of course, there were a few kinks I had to work out, but Dimitri was just the test run. Once I got rid of that pesky family of his, things became that much easier to invade the recesses of his mind, and make him mine.”
“You killed his family?” Your breath catches in your throat as she teasingly trails the blade of the dagger down the side of your cheek before lightly cutting the skin of your jaw.
“He didn’t need them, anyways,” she hums. “One less attachment that could break the spell.”
Your breath catches in your throat. You briefly recall how Mingi told you about Dimitri and his supposed wife and two kids. Looks like they were right in thinking the warlock had settled down, only for Miyeon to completely destroy everything he had.
Your eyes flash. “And I suppose Malik is just collateral, then?”
She laughs, boisterous and full of hidden malice.
“How do you think I got the chemical imbalances right with Dimitri?” A wicked grin pulls at her face.
“Dimitri wasn’t your first.” You state, disgust pulling at your features.
“Oh, no, Malik truly does love me. He loved me twenty years ago when I convinced him to stage a coup to dethrone those unbelievably gullible Kings.” She giggles. “He still loves me now, and he would do anything and everything I ask of him.”
“I’m sure he loves knowing that you’re in love with another.” You observe, keeping your expression blank for the moment.
“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes, mocking playfulness. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him. As long as he bends to my every will, and creates my New World, that’s all that matters.”
“Do you truly care for no one but yourself?” You recoil, appalled by her very being even more so than you were before.
She leans in further to you. “I care about My King, and only My King. Everyone else can burn in hell.”
“You’re a monster,” you spit, slamming your head forward as hard as you can, and managing to catch her off guard.
“You bitch!” She shrieks, hand coming up to clutch at her now bleeding nose.
Though, with the way your head spins, especially after she slaps you hard enough to send your entire body tumbling to the floor, chair and all, you’re not quite sure it was a good idea.
An annoyed breath escapes her, yanking you back upright by your broken wrist and causing you to let out a pain filled cry as she tightens her hold on you.
“Do you want to die before the time is up?” She snarls, eyes crazed as she meets your gaze. At the way you remain quiet, she smirks. “I thought so.”
“Oh, so you do think.” You scoff, feigning being impressed.
A resounding smack echoes around the room as she backhands you across your other cheek.
“Is that all you’ve got?” You huff, spitting out some blood onto the floor. “Pathetic.”
Miyeon tuts, shaking her head. “All I try to do is save you from a life of heartache at the hands of these demons, and I get called pathetic? How sad.”
“Save me?” You quirk a brow, tilting your head forward in disbelief.
“You really think they’re in love with you?” Her voice drawls out, a dark laugh escaping her in the next second. “I thought I told you that they only see you as a sex toy. They’re only using you for their own selfish desires. As soon as you fuck all of them, they’ll kill you right where you stand. I’m only protecting you before that happens.”
“You think I would believe a word you say?” You scoff, rolling your eyes.
The mental ice pick slams into your skull, and your vision blurs.
“I’m only telling you exactly what they did to me.” Miyeon replies, dragging the blade down your arm and drawing more blood. “They pretended to love me, once. I’m simply saving you the heartache.”
You remain silent, worried that if you open your mouth for the moment you might let out another pain filled whimper.
“You’re far too ugly for them, anyways,” she continues. “What the fuck would they want with you? You’re nothing but dirt compared to them. Do you really think they see you as their equal?” She scoffs. “Don’t make me laugh. A human on the same level as Gods?”
“Yet you still seek their validation at every opportunity you get,” your voice is low, glaring up at Miyeon as your hands tighten around the arms of the chair you’re in. “Tell me again who the desperate one is? They will never want you. Not after today. Not after this.”
“Shut up!” She screams, slashing the blade across the upper portion of your chest in anger and barely missing your throat. “I won’t need to worry about whether or not they’ll want me. After I’m through with them, I’ll be the only damn thing they’ll ever desire in their entire lives! I’m their true Queen. Not you.”
“Oh, Miyeon,” you tut, shaking your head. “Miyeon, Miyeon, Miyeon.” You blink, grinning widely all the while as blood drips down your face. “You’re nothing.”
A violent scream tears from her throat as she stabs the dagger in her hand through your right thigh.
You cannot help it. The wound inflicted on you makes you cry out, your head being tossed back as you squeeze your eyes shut. Tears cling to your lashes but you refuse to let them fall. At this point, maybe it would be better if you just riled her up enough to kill you. It would save you the pain of going through any more of her torture.
Opening your eyes, you see Miyeon’s chest heaving in front of you. If you thought she looked wild before, she looks absolutely insane now. Her hair is ruffled, teeth bared in a snarl as her gaze bleeds black.
The corners of your vision begin to fade, and you can feel your void beginning to slip more and more with each passing second.
“You are nothing to them.” You pant, nails beginning to crack from how tightly you dig them into the wood of the armrests.
You feel a crack appear in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you cannot cover it up. The way your lake begins to drain has panic seizing your entire being. The worst part is, you can see the way Miyeon smirks, a victorious gleam shining in her eyes as she searches your own, seemingly staring into your soul.
“You really are burdensome, aren’t you?” She drawls, twirling that jewelled dagger in her hands once more.
You huff, “is that the worst you’ve got?”
“Nobody likes you,” she continues. “All you are is a good for nothing, waste of space. You should never have been born.”
No matter how hard you try, that crack keeps getting wider and wider, the water dissipating faster and faster. Your head feels as if it’s splitting open, that familiar feeling of nausea creeping up inside of your chest again.
“Ugly. Vile. Pathetic.” She spits, circling you slowly as she berates you with every breath.
“I’ve passed kidney stones bigger than you.” You counter, a frown to your brow.
“Do you think they actually desire you?” She huffs out a dry laugh. “How could anyone desire you? Why would anyone love you? What can you offer them?”
Once more, Miyeon comes to stand in front of you. The dagger stills in her hands as her eyes flash.
“Your sister hated you so much for what happened to her child, she tried to kill herself.” She sneers. “It was all your fault.”
“No,” you shake your head, eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to maintain some form of control of your thoughts.
That crack begins to get wider and wider, the water almost completely drained at this point.
“I bet she wishes she never found you that day,” Miyeon adds, her eyes glinting beneath the artificial light of the dance studio. “After all, how could you fail to do something as basic as that?”
“No.” The grip you have on the arms of the chair is deadly, blood sleeping from your fingertips as you hold on for dear life.
“You should have never been born.” She repeats, nothing but a hiss to her lips. “Fucking useless, pathetic, unlovable whore. I bet they’ve all gotten tired of waiting for you to fuck them all, that they’re just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of you. They’ll probably thank me as soon as they get back, revelling me as their saviour from your unwanted presence.”
Your whole body begins to shake, and your mind begins to slip from your grasp.
A victorious smirk tugs onto Miyeon’s features. “You should have died the first time.”
Your mind goes completely blank.
A silence so still settles over the room as your head falls forward. The throws of unconsciousness threaten to pull you under at any moment, feeling your mind being shredded through at a rapid pace. Memories upon memories are unveiled, more being added to your mind that you don’t recognize, but you believe to be true.
Brief flashes of all eight of them appear in your mind, nothing but disgust on their features as they look on at you in anger.
“I never cared for you in the first place.” Hongjoong snarls, eyes as black as night.
A brief glimpse of a conversation in the garden flits through your mind.
“You mean nothing to us.” Mingi states, looking down upon you with a blank gaze.
A figure holding you in bed, whispering his undying love for you over and over again as you sleep.
“You are nothing.” San’s entire body begins to shake in rage, eyes flashing black as he looks upon you with complete abhorrence on his features.
A figure bows to you on the ground, surrounded by three other males in the same position, all with their heads pressed to the floor.
Then, the scene is shifting, and you faintly register something being carved into the skin of your chest. The sting of each incision almost pulls you from your mind, but something drags you back beneath the surface instantly, drowning you in your thoughts once more.
You see Yeosang standing before you with a look of complete and utter contempt on his face.
“I have never wanted you,” he sneers, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Nor will I ever want you.”
It is those words that finally break you.
Your lips part in a silent scream, mind battling within itself as images of that one intimate morning shared with Yeosang flood your every sense. Almost as if your memories are fighting against once another. As if to say that, no, those aren’t real. Remember what’s real.
Miyeon’s eyes go wide with an unbridled fury unlike anything before. Her chest heaves as these memories of yours wash over her, hands beginning to shake as she sees Yeosang touching you so intimately while staring at you so fondly, embracing you so lovingly.
That should be her. That will be her, even if it’s the last thing that she ever does.
“You fucking whore,” she spits lowly, voice nothing but a feral snarl as it rumbles out from her chest. “I’ll kill you for touching him.”
The dagger she’s holding onto slams into your left hand. The same exact hand that had touched Yeosang so tenderly - so intimately - with. She has half the mind to carve out your tongue right this very moment, but she doesn’t want you to choke on your blood just yet.
No. She has much more planned for you, especially now that she has free access to your mind. Perhaps she’ll start with slicing off your fingers one by one.
Faintly, you register someone screaming in the distance, their voice shrill, desperate, and raw.
Oh, wait. That’s you.
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