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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 119: Hope

Harry was always alone.

It sounded a bit dramatic, a little pitiable, and more than a little untrue.

Because he was always out with friends. He had pub nights with large groups of people, he went and took those wine and paint classes with Luna and Ginny every other week, and a cooking class with Ron and Pansy on the off week. He met George, Ron, and Seamus for lunch on Thursday afternoons. Hermione dragged him to a book club with Draco once a month. He met Hermione for breakfast on Tuesdays and had dinner with Ron and Hermione every Monday (and often Fridays, too). Neville invited him for tea every Sunday and there was always someone different there with them.

Still, there was something that always separated him from his friends. All of his friends were buying houses, getting married, having babies, getting pets (or in Neville’s case carnivorous plants). And he was just... stuck.

“Well, well,” a smooth baritone voice said behind him, interrupting his sulk at the bar of the Leaky, and a smile tilted up the corner of Harry’s mouth against his will. “If it isn’t the savior himself.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you going to sit down?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.

Silver eyes gleamed in amusement, “that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’re going to buy me dinner. It has been a long day.”

(Read more below the cut)

“Oh?” Harry said, nudging the chair next to him back with his toe. “Well it’s a good thing I ordered the shepherd’s pie, then. You and I both know that’s always big enough for two.”

“Were you expecting me then?” Draco asked with a pleased grin as he plopped down in the chair next to him.

“Nope,” Harry said. Strictly speaking, this was true, he’d been hoping the other man might show up but not expecting him to. “I just like to have leftovers.”

Draco laughed at Harry as the bartender slid an old fashioned across the counter to him, “thank you,” Draco said, nodding to the man who all but ignored him.

Harry inhaled to say something about the man’s rudeness (an action he knew was futile since he’d done it several times) but Draco put a hand on his arm and took a sip of his drink. “Not worth it,” he said.

Harry sighed at him, “Tell me about work.”

Draco grinned, it was a sort of grin that Harry used to hate when they were younger. It was a grin that meant Draco had been particularly vicious in the courtroom today. With relish he began telling Harry about the woman and her child whom he had defended against a powerful, abusive husband. How he’d eviscerated the man on the stand and freed the two of them from his grasp.

“It was brilliant,” he finished with a sigh.

“Sounds like it,” Harry replied, resting his cheek in his hand.

Draco gave him a little smile. It had taken a long time to get here, even a year ago Draco would have been looking at him, trying to work out if Harry had meant it sincerely. “Tell me about your day,” he said.

“Oh, you know how it is,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sitting around in board meetings, trying to make sure that the people who actually know something get heard. Watching people who only want what’s best for themselves trying to make people believe they want what’s best for everyone.”

He laughed and took a sip of his drink, “I don’t understand how or why you do it.”

“Well someone’s got to, don’t they?” he asked. “Might as well use my fame to some advantage. Help people. You know,” he said, shrugging one shoulder and picking at the label on his beer.

“Come away with me,” Draco said suddenly.

“Sorry?”

The other man grinned at him, “I’m going on vacation. I’m leaving tomorrow for a week on the beach on an island. Come with me.”

“What? Why?”

The smile that had been so bright a moment ago started to dim, “Nevermind. It’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anyth-”

“Draco,” Harry said, realizing he’d misunderstood. He put his hand on his forearm. “I’d love to. Seriously, I would love nothing more than to go and spend a week on the beach with you. I just,” he trailed off, “why would you want me to?”

“Because you’re always moping. And you’re always doing things for everyone else. And you’re bloody lonely.” He shook his head, “And no one sees it.”

“Except you, apparently,” Harry huffed.

The corner of Draco’s mouth tipped up, “Except me. Come on,” he said.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Potter. Fucking seriously.”

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

The beach was fantastic.

Harry had never been to the beach for a vacation and he enjoyed every sun soaked minute.

Draco watched him with an expression that Harry couldn't entirely parse out. It was amused, and fond, and exasperated, and something else entirely all at once. "I don't get you," Draco said eventually, after they'd spent half the day by the ocean; lounging, swimming, drinking, and laughing.

"What do you mean?"

Draco shrugged and took a sip of his sangria before he continued, "You're wealthy, you have time, you obviously enjoy it here; why haven't you done this before?"

He frowned, "Well who wants to go on a vacation alone?"

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I'd planned to go alone. I have actually taken several vacations alone."

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Draco waved him off, "It's fine. I'm not offended I just," he shrugged helplessly, "I find you fascinating."

"You find me fascinating?" he asked incredulously.

"Haven't I always?" he replied wryly.

He huffed but couldn't argue considering that he'd been equally obsessed with the other man for most of their lives at this point.

"You could have done anything," Draco said, "There's nothing that the wizarding world wouldn't have given you. If you'd wanted to go on vacation and not be alone you could have had your pick of witches or wizards who would have gladly gone with you. If you wanted to be married with half a dozen children all you would have needed to do was pick the person." He shook his head, "You could have done anything you wanted, been anything you wanted, had anything you wanted but you've chosen a career that makes you miserable and you've chosen to be alone which makes you miserable." He shook his head again, "I don't get it."

"But how can I know if I'm actually good enough?" Harry asked. "How can I know if I'm good at my job or if it was just given to me because I'm Harry Potter? How can I know if the person who agrees to marry me is with me because I'm me or because I'm Harry Potter?"

"All this time I thought that you weren't on to me," he teased.

He rolled his eyes, "You know what I mean."

"You know what I think?" Draco asked as he leaned back in his beach chair and slipped his sunglasses back in place.

"I couldn't possibly guess," he replied.

The corner of Draco's mouth tipped up, "I think you're just scared."

He frowned at the other man even though Draco wasn't looking at him, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me perfectly," he replied, "You're scared."

"Of what?" he asked incredulously.

"Of being loved," he said simply. "Afraid that if you let someone love you, you'll have to let them in. You'll have to let them see all the dark, broken, twisty bits because it's not love if it's not honest."

"Oh and I suppose you're so much better at that," he snapped.

Draco snorted, "Hardly. I'm just willing to live my life until I've found someone who I'll be able to share those jagged pieces with."

He glared at the leg of the other man's chair, "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Alright," Draco replied agreeably.

"I'm going for a walk."

He nodded and yawned, "I think I'm going to take a nap, the sun feels nice."

Harry got up and trudged away without another word, trying to decide if Draco Malfoy was full of shit or if he might just know what he was talking about.

The longer he walked and the more he turned what Draco had said over and over in his head, the more he knew that the only person whom he would trust to see his dark bits was Draco Malfoy.

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

When he got back from his walk Draco was reading a book.

"You might be right," Harry said.

He hummed, "Not to brag but I usually make a point of being right."

Harry collapsed into the sand and stared out at the waves rolling in. "Can I ask you something?"

"Nothing has stopped you so far."

He huffed, "Have you ever been in love."

"Yes," the other man replied.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Draco hummed thoughtfully, "I woke up one day and realized that I loved his imperfections more than I loved the perfect image I'd created of him," he said. "I realized that I'm happiest when I'm with him, that he makes me feel brave in my fear and strong in my vulnerability."

"He sounds pretty great," Harry said, swallowing down the bitterness.

"He's also completely oblivious," Draco added. "And normally that would irritate me but his humility is part of his charm."

His heart beat a little quicker, "Is that so?"

Draco grinned, "Yes. And he's not too bad on the eyes, either," he added. "He's got a lovely complexion, fantastic long, dark hair. And his eyes," he let out a low whistle, "A bloke could get lost in those eyes and he wouldn't mind staying in the lovely green of summer."

Harry's mouth went dry and he couldn't quite find any words or summon any courage. Hope blossomed dangerously inside of his chest, expanding and expanding until Harry feared there wasn't room for a shred of doubt.

"He's rather fit, too," Draco continued, giving Harry a once over that even he wasn't oblivious enough to have missed. "And you wouldn't believe his arse," he added, "exquisite."

Harry laughed at that, "You're ridiculous," he said as he bent toward the other man. "I like you, too," he whispered.

"Took you long enough to figure it out," Draco teased.

He reached up and pulled Draco's sunglasses off his face, "I'm going to kiss you," he murmured.

"Took you long enough," he repeated before reaching up to cup Harry's cheek in his palm and draw Harry in.

With a sigh, Harry happily gave himself over to the kiss, over to Draco; knowing that his heart was finally in good hands.

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

Day 118: Glass | Day 120: Tough

#100 drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #fluff #love confessions #friends to lovers #vacation #drarry #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #thanks for the prompt

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missblissy · 3 years

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Human Alastor x reader playing Bowling? (Idk i just like that type of date hhaha) Maybe just them or maybe with friends

((>W>.............................. js I hate bowling. But I love you nonny, so for you..... I made this. ENJOY!! Sorry for the wait *cries*))

How goes bowling these days? Is that even still a thing? And why would anyone want to go bowling other than to drink? But no one drinks have the time... people just go for the pin and balls. Maybe it had to do with long and round phallic objects and balls rolling around. Regardless, your friends had dragged you to go bowling for whatever reason. And you decided to drag Alastor along because if you had to suffer, so did your boyfriend. It was also a bonus that he got along with your friends as well... some of them at least.

It was Charlie's idea mostly. She was someone who always wanted to go out and try new things. It was something she lived by apparently because this week's new activity was bowling at one of those dark neon allies with an arcade built-in. Charlie managed to talk her girlfriend, Vaggie, into coming too. Angel came because he also assumed there would be drinks but found out there wasn't a damn bar inside. You honestly had no idea how or why Husk was even there because he was completely and entirely miserable. If you had to guess it had something to do with you forcing Alastor to come.

Anyways, you and your little group of friends had found themselves staring down an alley with those silly little shoes on. Angel wouldn't wear his though, he wouldn't let their piss shade of yellow clash with his outfit.

You were sitting in plastic chairs next to Angel as you watched Charlie and Alastor go up next. You had two lanes so they went together. Angel sat next to you, he grabbed an arm behind you on the back of your chair and leaned in, "Five bucks says Allie gets the gutter," He whispered loud enough for Alastor to hear. You giggled as you saw your boyfriend's brow twitch and ignore the comment.

There was a second there that you were tempted to say something back to Angel but you were interrupted by the loud clash and computer saying "Strike!" You looked up and saw that Charlie was still holding her bowling ball. But walking away with a smirk on his face, Alastor's smug pride gleamed off him. The shock on everyone's face only made him boast to himself even more. When did Alastor find the time to get good at bowling.

As he sat down next to you, he threw Angel's arm away from you and replaced it with his own, though he was sure to wrap his fingers around your shoulder and bring you closer to him. He never liked Angel, and he was always so overly protective when it came to you anyways, so it wasn't welcomed that the boy was so close to you. Even if he was a guy. Competition is competition, it doesn't matter who they are, Alastor didn't like sharing you. Period.

"How... Did you do that?" You asked him.

Alastor shrugged and watched as Charlie threw her bowling ball right into the gutter, "I'm perfect at everything I do, dear." That was supposed to be satire.

Angel rolled his eyes and with a huff, he crossed his arms, "You can't fuck." He deadpanned.

Instincts kicked in and you ducked seconds before Alastor nearly climbed over you and punched Angel in the face. He missed and got him in the shoulder instead.

"Leave Alastor and his fuckless life alone," Husk said as he got up from his seat, "Some people are just better than the rest of us sexual deviants," He took his turn bowling soon after saying that. Vaggie went next as well. She choose to keep her mouth shut on all this.

But even Charlie had something to say, "Come on guys," She awkwardly waved her hands, trying to calm everyone down, "If you're going to fight take it outside this time. I don't want to get kicked out of another place of business..."

"He won't fight me, he'd know I'd deck him in the head and give 'em a one-two combo real quick like last time." Angel reminded everyone, and you all collectively remembered Angel clocked Alastor in the face at a bar after a heated argument. Alastor went out like a light and broke his nose on the way down. You looked at him and saw the little kink in his nose from that night.

You sighed and reached down into your pocket and pulled out your wallet. You grabbed a random twenty and handed it to Angel, "I'll give you this and two cigs if you go outside for ten minutes."

Angel gave you a snotty look, somewhat offended that you'd even offer such a thing. But he knitted his brows, snatched your twenty-dollar bill, and stole two cigarettes from the pack you left laying next to you on your seat, "I'm gonna find a bar on this fucking street- I'll be back later, losers."

You could still feel the rage simmer off Alastor even after Angel left. Though you didn't have time to say anything to him. It was your turn to go up. And now that Angel was gone, you didn't want to go up there and make a fool of yourself alone... Half your plan was to have Angel bowl next to you so that no one would notice how bad you were.

"Um-" You said as everyone waited for you to go, "I'd...uh... Um. I don't know hooow-" You were cut off as Alastor quickly got up and pulled you up with him.

He dragged you to the lane and got a bowling ball for you, "Hold this," He said. You noticed his anger from before had all but melted away. Alastor gave you a charming smile and stood beside you, "Copy me. Like when we dance."

You blinked at him a few times then did was he said. He held his hand up, pretending he had a ball. You copied him and did the same. He brought his hands to his chest, stepped forward, swung his arm back then forward again. You smiled at him and did the same, but you actually threw a ball. It rumbled down the lane and crashed into a couple pins. At least you didn't get the gutter.

"See? That easy," Alastor smiled at you. He place a hand on your arm and pressed a kiss on your cheek. He grabbed your hand in his and asked, "Do you want to see if they have any vending machines in the arcade? We can get some snacks?" Which was code for do you want to sneak away for a second?

"Sure," You quickly agreed while locking your fingers with his. The two of you scurried off with him. The second you were out of eyesight and safe behind a wall, Alastor gave you a more proper kiss.

He pulled away and asked, "Why did we come again?"

You shrugged, "Charlie asked." You simply said.

Alastor let out a huff then started walking with you towards the vending machines, "You can't really say no to someone like her..."

As you pulled out a few loose coins from your pocket and slipped them into the machine you laughed, "No, you can't." You both dearly loved your friendship with Charlie... But she could be a bit bossy sometimes.

The two of you collected an arm full of snacks and started walking back together, "Well, I say when we get home, we have a proper date."

You laughed and even lost a few snacks. You picked them up quickly and said, "You mean you cook us dinner and we watch a movie? That's not a proper date either, ya know."

Alastor smirked at you then nudged his arm into yours with a grin, "It is too because it'll be just us. Alone."

You rolled your eyes but still chuckled to yourself, "Alright, alright," You said, "What do you want to watch?"

He shrugged, "Don't care. I just want to make fried rice tonight."

You let out a huff of a laugh and passed out a snack to each of your friends while Alastor gave them a drink of some kind, "Fine. But I'm picking a TV show then because I just started watching something on Netflix."

"Aw, are you guys leaving?" Charlie asked with way too much sadness on her face.

"No, no-" You waved a hand slightly, "Alastor just doesn't think this is a proper date, so he has to make one up at home."

"What do you mean this isn't a proper date?" Vaggie threw a hand in the air, "All of us brought our partners! I mean- Angel left... So Husk is more like a third wheel at this point. This definitely counts as a group date or whatever."

"Call me old-fashioned, but you don't bring your friends on a date and there is no such thing as a group date," Alastor said as he cracked open a can of cola.

"What about a double date?" Husk asked from his seat while he tore open a bag of chips.

"This isn't a double date and even then those aren't real dates either. You're supposed to be somewhere nice, havea nice meal, share a few drinks. Share some stories and laughs with the one person you're interested in courting, then call it a night, done!" Alastor smiled to himself while everyone else collectively sighed. He was old-fashioned. (But you liked that about him.)

"This isn't 1955, Al. You can go on a date anywhere. Like here. What about going to the zoo? Could that be a date?" Vaggie asked.

Alastor thought about it, tapped a finger to his chin then gleefully said, "Nope! That's an outing!" Several people groaned but no one went on to feed into his banter.

You did hear Husk grumble under his breath "You need to go out to go on a date," But Alastor must have not heard it or choose to not say anything.

The rest of your night there wasn't that bad either. Angel did end up coming back, but not without his arms full of booze bottles of all kinds. They didn't serve drinks here but at least Angel was wise enough to buy some solo cups too. No one was really paying attention to the bowling anymore either. (You lost, not that you cared or anything.... You did.) Instead, you and your friends had gathered around in the arcade, drinking, laughing, playing games, and picking on each other harmlessly. You enjoyed every second of it, much to your surprise. Alastor did as well, though... He still insisted on his proper date once you got home.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #reader insert #alastor / you #alastor x you #alastor / reader #modern!au #human!alastor #human!cast #human!reader #ask #anon #nonny #answered

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lolas-writings · 3 years

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More Deaf/Mute BakuShin because I’m ~procrastinating~, so for all my BakuShin followers this one’s for you :3

[Part 1] [Previous]

“What were you thinking?” Aizawa asks as Bakugou tries his best to remain passably passive. He fails miserably since he can’t keep his eye from twitching, and he knows Aizawa can see through him like glass, but he’s stubborn so he keeps up the cracked facade.

“You can’t keep roughing up other students just because you think they dislike you.” Mic pipes up from beside Aizawa, holding his glasses in one hand while the other rubs the bridge of his nose, presumably staving off a headache. Which totally isn’t Bakugou’s fault, thank you very much.

“I didn’t even touch him.”

“Yeah, well both Shinsou and Midoriya say otherwise.” He can’t hear Aizawa’s tone, but the way he sighs and adjusts his new scarf tells Bakugou that he seems disappointed rather than angry. “So try again. What were you thinking?”

Bakugou scoffs and rolls his eyes, catching a glimpse of Shinsou sitting at a desk beside the window, pointedly ignoring the confrontation in favor of looking outside. Why he’s even in Aizawa’s office right now doesn’t make sense. If he’s already blabbed about their little altercation then he could just leave.

“What, I can’t go talk to my assigned partner?” Bakugou says with as much sarcasm as he can muster. At least, what he remembers speaking sarcastically feels like.

“Talk, yes. Harass, no.”

“Then fine, let me do the assignment alone.”

“No.”

“Why not? Koda got to choose to work alone, why can’t I?”

“Bakugou.” Mic waves a hand between Bakugou and Aizawa to get his attention, his phone turned so that Bakugou can see his screen. “Watch this.”

He raises his brow questioningly at his teacher, but Mic simply raises the phone in answer, staring expectantly. After a moment, Bakugou finally caves and sighs before he reluctantly looks down at the phone and waits for Mic to press play.

He notices after the opening segment that this is the video from their group assignment, the one they’re meant to analyze and write a paper on. He looks up at Mic confused, but is redirected back down to the video.

A minute passes before Mic pauses the video and asks, “What do you think the narrator sounds like?” How the fuck should he know?

“I don’t know, bored? They’re just listing off different types of fish. If I had to do that I’d die of boredom.” Bakugou crosses his arms as he speaks, subconsciously feeling small when he realizes the issue. But he won’t acknowledge it himself, he’s sure Mic is about to.

He doesn’t, surprisingly. Or at least he’s distracted before he can. Before Mic, or even Aizawa, can discuss the video, both teachers turn their head to where Shinsou is sitting. Aizawa says something along the lines of, “Say that again,” but since part of his mouth is obscured by his scarf Bakugou can’t be sure. Either way, he follows suit so see what Shinsou decided was so important to interrupt with.

“He’s sad.” Shinsou catches Bakugou’s gaze for a second before he pointedly looks at only Mic and Aizawa. “The text transcript can be misinterpreted as a standard documentary, but the narration proves that the video is a call to action. They want people to realize how endangered some marine life is and how important they are to their ecosystem.”

Once he’s said his piece, Shinsou turns back to face the window, his finger tapping on the glass where a cat sits on the other side. That’s… kind of strange, and gets weirder when the cat nuzzles against the glass like they’re trying to get to Shinsou. But that’s none of his business either, so he reluctantly turns to face Mic and Aizawa, already knowing he’s fucked.

“Thank you, Shinsou. You’re free to go.” Aizawa says as he looks straight at Bakugou, no doubt waiting for his star pupil to leave before tearing Bakugou a new one. From the corner of his eye he watches Shinsou collect his things and walk out of the office, the cat jumping from the window’s outside ledge and disappearing in turn.

“Do you see now, Bakugou?” Mic puts his phone away and readjusts his glasses. “I made this a group project for the entire class because I’m making it a group project for you.”

“If I can’t work alone why can’t I just work with Deku, or… an actual interpreter?” Bakugou grimaces at his own words. At which part, he’s not quite sure of, but either option sounds terrible.

“Because Shinsou offered.” Mic says so nonchalantly that it takes Bakugou a minute to realize how off that sounds. Shinsou willing offered to help him? For what?

“Why the hell would he do that?” He says before he can stop himself, but he doesn’t have the energy to act ashamed for the slip up.

“Because, believe it or not Bakugou, some people just do kind things for the sake of being kind.” Aizawa says this time as he sits down in his office chair. Bakugou assumes that he sighs, because he seems to do that a lot when Bakugou is around.

“He figured you didn’t want an interpreter.” Mic says as he moves to stand more directly in front of Bakugou in the spot left vacant after Aizawa moved. “I actually considered giving you an alternative assignment, but he said that would make you feel pitied and we all know that’s the thing you hate most. So he offered to partner with you as long as the rest of the class was partnered as well.”

There’s so many things about this new information that ping as off in Bakugou’s mind. Like why was Koda still allowed to opt out? And since he did, is there another person working alone or a group of three? Who the hell was Kirishima paired with because Bakugou could have easily worked with him instead.

But most importantly, why the hell is Shinsou being nice to him?

“Now that you’re aware of the reason behind our decisions,” Aizawa says as he sits up in his chair and leans forward, placing his elbows on his desk and resting his head in his hands, “you’re going to go apologize to Shinsou and you’re going to complete this assignment together. No partner swaps, no more asking to work alone, just get it done and turn it in by the due date. Am I clear?”

Bakugou huffs and looks away as he mumbles a quiet, “Fine, whatever,” not even waiting for a proper dismissal before he stalks out of the office and down the hall. Guess he better go apologize or whatever. He’s not letting his grade tank because of this stupid assignment.

#bakushin #shinbaku #bakugou katsuki #hitoshi shinsou #deaf!bakugou #mute!shinsou #aizawa shōta #yamada hizashi #bnha bakugou #mha bakugo katsuki #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou #Lola writes

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jaqaciak · 2 years

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How I've finally recovered, after the crazy fiasco that was the ending of Twenty Five Twenty One.

Never thought I would ever write a post about how to recover from a break-up of a fictional couple in a K-drama, but here I am, lol. I'm writing this down for my future self to read and laugh about one of the craziest, most traumatic experiences in my fangirl career so far, ha.

I'm not gonna talk in details about why the second half of the finale devastated me, because I already did that in my journal. But yeah, to put it simply, that ending shook me to the core. It destroyed the most special, once-in-the-lifetime bond between my beloved characters, which I found so, so difficult to watch because I was feeling that bond too deeply. I was crying so hard, grieving for that loss.

Anyway, I knew I had to try to pick myself up somehow because I couldn't stay miserable like that, it was just not worth it. Here's what I did.

- I acknowledged all the feels that I was feeling. I used to think it was ridiculous, the way I could feel so happy, so anxious, so sad over fictional characters. But my feelings are valid. Those characters may be just fictional, but my feelings are real.

- I ate up all the comments and discussions about the ending on tumblr, reddit, facebook groups, etc. to thankfully learn that I wasn't alone in this. That gave me solace. I think I stayed up until 4am to read then woke up at 6am or so to read some more lol.

- I let myself cry a bit more when I woke up (no, I lied, a LOT more), thoughts were running wild in my head, so I decided to write down the reason why I felt so so so upset about that ending. I easily filled up 5+ pages in my notebook lol. I was still sobbing while writing, but it made me feel better. I was able to get 6-ish hours of sleep last night haha.

- Today I rewatched the part where older Heedo got the diary and revisited the tunnel and somehow was able to laugh about it because why the fuck did Yijin leave the diary at the rental bookstore... I couldn't find any reasons to justify for it. So I just found it hilariously weird :)))))

- Then I watched the bus stop breakup scene again, which actually made me hopeful about Baekdo. I refused to rewatch the rest because I don't claim it as canon.

- I read some posts on tumblr about how that ending was a lie told by the writer. I agree. That's it. That's the word, a lie. So now I just laugh about it :))) haha, crying all day yesterday then just laughing today.

Anyway, the beautiful thing is, when I think about their beautiful moments now, I don't feel that twisting pain in my heart anymore. Because I've chosen to believe in my beloved characters rather than in the writer. Ha! =)

Do I regret watching the show? No! Do I hate that its ending made me so miserable? Yes, but at the same time, it kinda made the watching experience more memorable... not in a good way, but still lol. (Though I sincerely hope that it was not the reason why the writer decided to stick to that ending).

I'm definitely going to rewatch the show someday, but of course, not the ending that I don't claim.

#me #twenty five twenty one

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narutogwriting · 3 years

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Before You Go

Pairing: Sasuke Uchiha x Reader

CW: angst

Length: 3.6k+

Summary: You play it through your head. Every moment, every interaction you ever had with Sasuke before he left. Was there something you could have done? Could you have made him stay?

Inspired by: Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi

Looking at Sasuke hurt. That’s all you could think about for the longest time. To look at Sasuke was to be punched in the stomach, all the air leaving your lungs. It was like someone’s fist tearing through your chest, grabbing your heart and crushing it in their fingers. Looking at Sasuke left your entire existence battered and bruised.

You remember hearing the whispers. Adults whispered a lot, always telling each other secrets. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” That’s what they always said when you asked them what they were talking about. So much of their conversations were too hard to follow along with. You made a mental registry of all the questions you would ask when you reached this elusive “older” age.

You were nosey, of course; always wanted to hear the ins and outs of things. But the first time you remembered the whispers really catching your interest was when you were seven years old.

“It’s horrible, what happened to the Uchihas.” “I can’t believe he could do that to his own family. “Just tragic.”

Uchiha. A boy in your class had the last name Uchiha. Sasuke. He was really popular, by far the strongest kid in the academy. You never talked to him, but you always noticed how happy he would get when his big brother would come pick him up at the end of the day.

“Did something happen to Sasuke?” You asked, crawling out from underneath the table, earning a startled gasp from you aunt.

“What have I told you about eavesdropping!?” Your mother snapped at you, but she didn’t look angry like usual. She looked worried almost. With a sigh, she pat your head. “Don’t worry too much, okay. It’s nothing. Sasuke is just fine.”

It was natural for a parent to want to protect their child’s innocence. Even at your parent’s age, the Uchiha Massacre was a horrific occurrence; it was too hard for them to process; it would be even harder to try to explain it to you. Ignorantly, your parents thought that if they hid it from you, you would never have to deal with it, but of course that wasn’t true. People talked and word got around. It only took one or two kids in the academy finding out some details for the story to grow and spread.

Sasuske wasn’t at the academy for a month after you heard your parents and aunt whispering about his family, but the next day at school, word was already beginning to get around. Sasuke’s older brother, the one he’d adored so dearly, that he’d smiled so happily at every day, had murdered his whole family, leaving only Sasuke alive.

It would have been better to hear it from your parents, the toned down, soft version of the appalling act as they tried to explain to you for the first time that the world could be a cruel place. But instead, you had to listen in horror while your classmates gossiped, lied, and exaggerated the whole thing, discussing the most traumatizing moment of Sasuke’s life as if it was a new movie playing in the cinema. You’d gone home crying almost every day that week.

When Sasuke finally did come back, he talked to no one, and no one talked to him. He kept to himself, arms crossed and a blank, cold stare on his face that would soon become his signature. You couldn’t believe that such a beautiful smile had ever crossed those icy features.

“Stay away from Sasuke.” Your mom whispered as she walked you home from the academy. When you questioned why, she’d simply shushed you. “Do what I say.”

Parents always know best. That’s all you know when you’re seven years old. They always do and say the right thing, and you always listen because you never have a reason not to. Your mom told you not to talk to Sasuke, so of course you wouldn’t because there must be a good reason not to.

You never told your mother that it was this very command that later shattered your innocence; the first moment when you realized that your mom was not always right.

It wasn’t immediate. You never really talked to Sasuke in the first place, so it was nothing new to ignore him now. But now that you’d been told not too, of course everything in you wanted to go say hello to him.

There is a theory of development that categorizes the age of seven as industry vs inferiority. It’s the first time you’re independently integrating into society and trying to figure out your place. The major question of children this age is “How can I be good or bad?”

And you were no different. This appeared in a lot of ways. When you struggled to hit the target with a kunai, you felt like a failure. When you were corrected by your parents, it felt like criticism and hit you to your core.

But you were moving further than your peers. You didn’t just wonder if you were good or bad based on your skills; you wondered if it made you bad to ignore a person that everyone else seemed to be purposefully isolating as well.

Can I be a good person if I let another person feel miserable?

Sasuke had lost everything, was living on his own in the place his family had been murdered in front of his eyes. Even you could understand that that must be traumatizing. Of course he was angry and cold and closed off. How could anyone fault him for that?

It started slow. “Hi, Sasuke.” You would greet him every day when you got to class. It took him off guard the first couple of times. Once he got used to it, he just “hn’d” in response, but that was okay with you.

Then you started asking him if he wanted to sit with you at lunch, offered him an extra dessert that you would sneak into your pack just for him.

He always told you no, so you would leave him alone and just offer again the next day. Not to be annoying; just to let him know that you were there.

Things changed a few weeks after Sasuke had come back to the academy. You were still saying hi and being ignored, and a few kids had begun to slowly start trying to interact with Sasuke in response. You never really saw him outside of the academy except for this one day you were out with your mom running errands.

You’d never considered how he got food or supplies he needed. You didn’t know where he got the money, but there Sasuke was at the market just like you were. You watched from your mom’s side as he walked up to a fruit stand where there was a group of people examining the different produce. Sasuke reached past someone, grabbing an amaou to put in his bag.

The person next to Sasuke glanced down absentmindedly, but you saw the way their eyes widened as they settled on him, realizing who he was.

“Oh shit,” the guy muttered, dropping his fruit and hurrying away from the stand. One by one, every other person around did the same, looking at Sasuke with an expression of shock or discomfort before speeding off.

You couldn’t see Sasuke’s face from where you were, only his back, but you could see the way his shoulder tightened. He froze completely before his body began to tremble just slightly. Sasuke’s fingers tightened and the fruit was crushed beneath his fingers. He dropped the pulp and the bag with all the other fruit he’d been planning on getting and in a moment, he was gone.

It was the first time you could remember hearing a heart shatter. You just weren’t sure if it was his or yours.

Your mom’s attention was elsewhere, so you took the opportunity to sneak over to the fruit stand, grabbing the bag Sasuke had dropped, examining the produce inside. When back at your mother’s side, you grabbed her hand. “Mom, can I get some fruit?”

Later, you snuck the fruit bag from your kitchen, slinging it over your arm as you walked around the village. You finally found Sasuke sitting under a tree on the outskirts of town. He had his back to the trunk, arms crossed as he stared off. He didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge your presence as you approached, but he didn’t tell you to leave, either.

So you slipped down next to him, leaning against the trunk and placing the bag of fruit silently between the two of you as you crossed your legs. With nothing else to do, you began to pick the flowers in the grass, weaving their stems together until you had a small bracelet formed.

What came over you, you weren’t sure. But confidently, you turned to Sasuke where he still sat, staring off with his arms crossed. You reached out, gently taking his arm and untangling it from the other. To your surprise, he didn’t fight you, so you took his hand, sliding the flower bracelet around his wrist.

When you looked up at him, you found that he was already staring at you. He wasn’t smiling, but for the first time in weeks, he wasn’t frowning either.

You hated him. You hated Sasuke Uchiha! After everything, the past five years that you had spent together… Had it all meant nothing!?

It was a blow straight to your heart hearing the words when you had come home. “Sasuke has defected from the village.” Sasuke had left to train with Orochimaru, all for his revenge. He hadn’t been kidnapped or forced to go; he left willingly. Just like that. One day he was there, and the next he was gone.

You hadn’t even had the change to go on the retrieval mission. You just had to have gone out of town that day. He’d already been gone for days by the time that you were home. Naruto was the last person that got to see Sasuke before he disappeared; maybe forever.

Even thinking the words had you in hysterics. You sobbed violently into your pillow, the sounds being ripped from your throat. You sobbed so hard your body shook. Your cries were so vicious that you began to vomit, not even able to make it to the trashcan.

That’s where your mother found you hours after you heard. “I told you to stay away from him…” Your mom tsk’d softly.

You would never forgive him.

Was there something you could have said or done? You thought you’d been a good friend to Sasuke. You’d always tried to be there, listen in those rare moments that he wanted to talk to you. Ever since you’d given him the bracelet…

That moment was so pivotal in your friendship. Not just that you’d given the gift, but that Sasuke had accepted it. It was the moment that your one sided pursuit of Sasuke had become mutual; the two of you were now friends.

And it wasn’t a normal type of friendship really like your other relationships were. This one was quieter, built around so much that was unsaid, only felt. In Sasuke’s loneliness, you were there standing by and sitting next to him through it all.

You couldn’t take away Sasuke’s pain or hurt, but you could walk with him through it.

Or at least, that’s what you had thought. It’d been stupid. You actually believed that you could help Sasuke, make him feel better when he’d experienced the most appalling sort of loss. Maybe that belief had only made Sasuke feel even more lonely.

Did you ever understand at all? No, you hadn’t, and you knew it. You’d tried your best, done everything you could, but you were just a kid too, and you’d never experienced anything like Sasuke had. How could you have known what to say to make it better?

Despite this, the guilt that you felt was consuming, taking up every part of you. You felt as if you’d drown in it, felt the way it filled your lungs until you couldn’t breathe.

You’d been in denial when you heard the news, felt the anger when the retrieval squad had failed. In the weeks that followed Sasuke’s defect, you’d switched between the two stages almost constantly.

Now, finally, you’d moved onto bargaining.

If Sasuke just comes back… If he just came home, you would be better! Whatever he needed, whatever he wanted, you’d give it to him! Somehow you’d have the right words this time. You would tell him exactly what hear to make it all stop hurting. Whatever it took…

And you bargained hard. You bargained and bartered and you petitioned and you pleaded. You begged whatever god that was listening, tried to sell your soul to the devil, if only, if only it would bring Sasuke back!

But if god existed, he wasn’t listening and the devil had no use for a spirit like yours. You were alone, screaming to the sky.

“Sasuke! You’re awake! I was just gonna stop by to see you.”

Sasuke could see that you were in a rush even if you didn’t say it. You were dressed, running your fingers through your hair to throw it up into a bun. There was a dumpling hanging delicately from between your teeth, signaling your quick breakfast you were trying to take on the go.

At this point, Sasuke knew you well.

It wasn’t often Sasuke came to you when he was struggling, at least not outright. There were plenty of times he’d sought your presence to simply suffer in silence, but at least he wasn’t suffering by himself.

This time, he didn’t want to suffer silently. Not right now at least. He’d been thinking hard, struggling all week since Itachi had put him under the Tsukuyomi. Tsunade had been able to bring him back from his comatose state, but hadn’t been able to mend what Itachi had broken and bent in his mind for the second time.

You wouldn’t find out til later, but Sasuke had come straight from the hospital not after waking up, but after challenging Naruto to a fight. Kakashi had broken the two up just before they’d about blown their arms off.

Naruto was surpassing him. That much was so clear, so obvious to him now, but no one wanted to admit it. If even Naruto, the worst of the worst in the academy was getting better than him, at this rate, how would he ever be strong enough to kill Itachi?

Kakashi had lectured him heavily about losing the friends he had left in his mourning of the family that was long gone. It was what Sasuke had wanted to talk to you about. Somehow, he knew Kakashi was right, but when he’d spent the last five years thinking of getting revenge on Itachi, he didn’t know how to reconcile what Kakashi was telling him.

“Stop by? Are you going somewhere?” Sasuke asked the obvious as you finally fixed your hair. You grabbed the dumpling, taking a bite as you nodded.

“To see my aunt,” You said through a mouth full of food. “In the village of the hidden rain.” You tilted your head, peering at him curiously. “Everything okay?”

Sasuke considered the question. You were going out of town, would be gone for a few days at least no doubt. Now probably wasn’t the best time to bring this up, but he wasn’t sure if it could wait until you got back.

As he began to respond, your attention was taken by your dad yelling from inside the house. “Finish packing your bag so we can go!”

You glanced behind you back into the house, rolling your eyes with a sigh. “Hold up!” You snapped before turning your gaze back to Sasuke. “Sorry about that. We’re running behind now, not that it’s my fault.” You gave a small laugh.

Sasuke knew he could have pushed it, and you would have dropped everything to listen to him. Your parents be damned. It’d just been a moment you were distracted from him because of your dad yelling. But now, suddenly, the words left Sasuke. He had nothing to say.

“It’s fine. I just wanted to stop by since they discharged me.” He lied easily, the words slipping off his tongue without dilemma. Even so, you usually would have picked up on it. You would have known that something was off, and you needed to pry.

It was just one time, one moment where you didn’t push him. You were in a rush, afterall, and you’d be back in a couple of days.

It was only hours after you left that the Sound Four had appeared to Sasuke, and minutes after, he was gone.

That moment would replay in your mind constantly in your mind, on repeat until it drove you insane.

You should have noticed. You should have noticed. You should have noticed.

You should have stayed.

Time heals nothing, but it gives you more things to worry about. You never thought it’d be possible, but Sasuke was no longer on the forefront of your mind at every moment. Every day, sure, but you were able to function in society, get stronger and attend to your duties.

You were no longer drowning in the sorrow of missing Sasuke, though that was where you’d been for so long you never thought you’d escaped. But finally, you’d hit the last stage of grief.

Acceptance. Sasuke was gone and there was nothing you could do.

You could have lived out the rest of your life in that acceptance, pushed the dull, ever present pain aside and pretend it wasn’t there, but you couldn’t do that. Naruto Uzumaki wouldn’t let you.

Hope was alive and well in Naruto’s heart and thus he stirred it in yours. “I’m gonna bring Sasuke back. Just you watch.” He’d grin at you.

You didn’t know where in the stages grief you were now, but you believed Naruto. He’d get Sasuke home even if you couldn’t.

You wished he never gave you that hope.

Kiba had picked up Sasuke’s scent. You were almost there. Almost to Sasuke…

That was when the orange masked Akatsuki member intercepted your team, keeping you from reaching Sasuke. You were desperate, feral almost as you attacked the man. To move him, killl him, it didn’t matter to you. You just needed to get past him, to get to Sasuke!

Another Akatsuki member appeared then, taking the attention from the masked man. You were about to make a break for it, but that’s when you heard him.

“Itachi is dead.”

The words settled on you, blood rushing to you ears and drowning out everything else. That was what Sasuke had always wanted; he’d finally done it. He’d killed Itachi, gotten his revenge. This should be a good thing.

You couldn’t explain it, but something was settling in your gut, a horrible, nauseating feeling that this was wrong. This wasn’t how things should have ended. Despite everything you knew and believed, you suddenly had the certainty that Itachi wasn’t the heartless monster everyone had believed he was.

Was it intuition, coincidence, or some unexplained connection you had to Sasuke? Glancing at Naruto, you could see he felt it too.

None of you noticed the masked man had disappeared. You followed Kiba as quick as your feet could carry you to where he tracked Sasuke’s scent, but by the time you got there, it was too late. He was gone.

“This is as far as I can smell him… We lost him.” Kiba told the team reluctantly.

You dropped to your knees, hand clutching desperately at your chest. You couldn’t breathe. It hurt; it hurt so fucking much you were sure you would die. The pain in your heart seized every part of you, knocking the air from your lungs and causing you to convulse.

Dropping to the floor, you began to sob. Those heart broken, anguished cries you thought you ran out of years ago.

“Sasuke…”

How you knew, you couldn’t be sure. But it wasn’t your own pain you were feeling. It was Sasuke’s tears that flowed down your cheeks and his aching regret that filled your heart. Where was he? You wanted nothing more than to be there with him now, to wrap him up in your arms and never let him go.

The team winced as you weeped so brokenly, the sound shattering their hearts.

You’d never understood, not really. As much as you wanted to, despite your best attempts, you never could grasp the layers of Sasuke’s pain. If only you’d been able to. If only you knew the storm that was building inside of him, leaving him restless and agitated, desperate for the carnage to end. You wish you knew that he couldn’t stand it, the way that every beat of his heart left him in pure agony.

Was there a way you could have made his heart beat better?

Every night, you saw Sasuke in your dreams, his back to you as he left. You lived it over and over and over again.

”Sasuke,” You called for the first time, watching him pause, but not turning to look at you. “Before you go… Was there something I could have said or done? To make it all stop hurting?” You waited for an answer that never came. Sasuke stood there for a few more moments before he walked away, disappearing into darkness.

You guessed you would never know.

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Bewitched by Babysitter (NamKook)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationship: Jungkook x Namjoon

Genre: smut, fluff | Rating: Explicit | Word Count: ~6.9k

Summary: Namjoon is a young, single father who is set up on a blind date. He needs a babysitter, and his friend knows just the man to help.

Tags: smut, fluff, getting together, dad Namjoon, college student Jungkook, dirty talk, bareback, rough sex, coming untouched

Dating was hard as hell. Being a single parent made it exponentially more difficult. Which was mostly why Namjoon hadn’t bothered to try. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He was lonely, he missed intimacy both emotionally and physically… But he just couldn’t be bothered. That and, if directly asked, Namjoon would admit that the thought of leaving his girl alone to go on a date was far more stress than was worth it. She was his life, and had been since the day she was put in his arms.

But Mingi was beginning to get older, and Namjoon knew he’d need to loosen that grip eventually. She was due to go to school for the first time the next year, and he’d still not spent more than a few hours away from her, save for when his parents wrenched her away for a grandparent play date.

It was his best friend, Yoongi, that had suggested the blind date. And the babysitter. Jeon Jungkook was a handsome twenty-one-year-old college student. He was finishing up his junior year, and Yoongi knew him through his boyfriend; Hoseok, who was a frequent guest teacher in one of Jungkook’s dance classes. So, he was an adult, responsible, and came highly praised. The date, on the other hand, was simply someone Yoongi knew. Minimal information, but he figured they’d get along and didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Namjoon would have much rather spent the evening playing games with Mingi.

But, if anything to appease his friend, Namjoon begrudgingly prepped for the date, cleaning himself up and making himself look quite presentable. He worked from home, and often forgot what going out clothing looked like, but a quick photo to Yoongi and a thumbs up emoji response told him he’d managed to pull something off. He was just applying a touch of cologne when the doorbell rang.

“I get it!” Screamed Mingi, who had been excited about the prospect of a new friend all week since Namjoon had broken the news. He rushed out behind her, his heart pounding in his ears. Maybe he’d hate the guy. A bad gut feeling, a drug smell, something. Anything to cancel this date.

Namjoon came around the side of the door that Mingi had thrown open. His breath slammed from his chest, the oxygen seeming to leave the room. Standing on his doorstep was the most beautiful man Namjoon had ever seen. He wore an open leather jacket over a simple black t-shirt. His jeans were far too tight (they were just right, who was he kidding), and had a perfectly placed thigh rip, revealing musculature that any man of their age group would envy. Heavy, flat soled sneakers and a perfectly styled undercut topped off the look, the neon red strap of a backpack visible over one shoulder.

“You must be Kim Namjoon.”

The boy’s voice was just as heavenly as the rest of his body. He lowered his gaze and grinned, his nose crinkling to reveal large front teeth. “And you must be Kim Mingi. My name’s Jungkook. I heard you’re in charge tonight,” he said. There was no hint of baby talk in his voice – in fact it didn’t change one octave, something Namjoon appreciated. He abhorred baby talk. Jungkook crouched down and offered his hand to her. Mingi giggled and shook it, looking up at Namjoon.

“I’m in charge!”

“Always, princess,” Namjoon said. Jungkook rose once more and stuck his hand out over Mingi’s head.

“Pleased to meet you. Hobi-hyung’s told me a lot about you.”

“Not too much bad, I hope.”

“Not a thing.”

“Please, come in. I’ll show you around. You’re right on time.”

Jungkook entered, stepping around Mingi. He kicked off his sneakers at the door and followed Namjoon through the house.

“The kitchen, you’re welcome to anything except the beer, of course. Mingi insisted on ordering in, so there’s a few menus and a card you can use.”

Jungkook glanced over at it and nodded. Namjoon led him down the hall. “Bathroom, Mingi’s room, she doesn’t need a bath or anything tonight, so no need to worry about that. Just make sure she brushes her teeth. Bedtime is at seven sharp, but she’ll do all she can to stay up later with more stories.”

Jungkook laughed a little at that, a bright thing that had Namjoon’s heart skipping a few beats. (He should really consider getting that checked out if it kept happening).

He led Jungkook out of the room and into the living room. “So my room’s there – it’s pretty much the only place off limits for Min when I’m not at home, my work stuff is breakable, so I ask that you keep the door shut.”

Jungkook nodded. He glanced around the living room and smiled when his eyes landed on Mingi, sprawled out on the floor. She was holding a bright pink and yellow Pegasus stuffed animal, making quiet airplane noises as she moved it back and forth through the air.

Jungkook went over. He set his backpack down and laid on his back, watching her.

“Is that the noises she makes?” He asked.

“It’s a boy. His name is Min Yoongi, like my Uncle Yoongi.”

“Ohh,” Jungkook nodded, “I’m sure Yoongi would appreciate that.”

“You know my Uncle?”

Jungkook nodded. “I go to school with his…” Jungkook drifted off, looking to Namjoon.

“With Uncle Hobi,” Namjoon filled in. Jungkook seemed to relax visibly and smiled.

“Yeah, he teaches me dance.”

Mingi gasped. “You dance? Can you show me dances? I wanna dance.” She pouted. “But Daddy wants me to be older.”

Jungkook laughed a little. “Well when you’re older he might be able to put you into a class. We can dance tonight if you want. Do you know good music?”

“Uh-huh! I love Crayon Pop.”

“Wah, Crayon Pop, they’re awesome!” Jungkook cried. Mingi sat up.

“You like them?” She clapped excitedly. “Daddy! He likes Crayon Pop!”

Namjoon smiled helplessly. “What luck! You two can listen to them tonight.”

Jungkook sat up and then rose, brushing his jeans off. “Any limits on screens or anything?”

“Normally, yes, but not tonight,” Namjoon said. “Figured, special occasion. Just try to make sure she only watches… You know, child friendly stuff.”

“I’ll keep a close eye on it,” Jungkook assured him.

“I should be home no later than ten or eleven. Honestly, probably not even that long.”

Jungkook shook his head. “Hobi-hyung told me a little. You’ve not been out in a while. Take your time. We’ll be okay here.”

Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “How pathetic, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling self-conscious. “You’re twenty-one, right?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Ridiculous. We’re only three years apart. And I’m pretty much an old miser.”

“You are far too handsome to be an old miser,” Jungkook said, grinning brightly. Namjoon’s heart did that dangerous stutter step once more.

“I—Uh—Oh.” Namjoon cleared his throat. He hurried over to a desk and scrawled on a notepad. “My number is here. Feel free to call or text if you need anything, I’ll answer.”

“Of course. When do you go?”

Namjoon glanced at his phone. “I should head off now… I don’t wanna get caught in traffic.”

Jungkook nodded. He shrugged off his jacket and laid it over the arm of the couch. Namjoon’s breathing, once again, cut off at the sight of the muscles in his forearms. He looked strong… And fit…

Jungkook cleared his throat, and Namjoon looked up, his eyes widening at being caught staring. He turned quickly and scooped Mingi up. “Daddy’s gonna go now, okay?”

“Can we really order takeout?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yep, just let Jungkook know when you’re hungry.” She wiggled a little in Namjoon’s arms to look at Jungkook.

“I’m hungry!”

Jungkook grinned. “As soon as your Daddy leaves we’ll order. Maybe you could talk me into dessert.” He winked in mock sneakiness, and Mingi’s eyes widened. She giggled behind her hands and did her best to wink back, blinking both eyes instead.

Namjoon’s heart squeezed. He was great with her. He kissed Mingi’s cheek and set her down. “Behave for Jungkook, okay?”

“I promise!”

Namjoon pulled on his jacket and hunted for his wallet. “Like I said, call if you need anything,” he said.

Jungkook rushed forward, grabbing it from a nearby table and passing it to Namjoon. “You look great. She’s gonna be blown away tonight,” Jungkook said, straightening the collar of Namjoon’s coat.

“Thank you. See you later.” He waved to Mingi as he tugged on his shoes. He took a moment to glance back before hurrying out, knowing that if he didn’t leave that moment, he wouldn’t go at all.

The thing about blind dates was that they always had the chance of failure. About a hundred things could potentially go wrong. The most glaring issue, of course, is simple lack of compatibility. Which, unfortunately for Namjoon, was becoming the apparent issue with this one.

Bora was a lovely woman, she honestly was. And Namjoon understood right away why Yoongi thought they’d work well together. Bora was as smart as a whip, and devastatingly funny. She was beautiful as well, and clearly had a good head on her shoulders. But something was off. Namjoon couldn’t put his finger on it. Their personalities worked, and he was sure they’d be great friends, but there was simply no spark there. More than once he found his mind wandering as she spoke, and he caught her wandering just as frequently. He was grateful when his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

“Oh, excuse me. This is likely my sitter. I need to use the restroom anyway.” he said. Once she nodded, looking just as grateful as he did for the break, Namjoon rose and headed toward the bathroom. Near to it, he tapped open his phone and clicked the text.

‘Miss Mingi insisted that I send you and Hobi-hyung this for your formal critique, Mr.Kim.’ Attached was a video. Namjoon’s brows furrowed as he pressed play. It was filmed in his living room, the phone propped up on his couch, if he wasn’t mistaken. Jungkook backed up and pressed play on the YouTube video paused on the television. Immediately a cheery song drifted from the speakers, one Namjoon knew well – Bar Bar Bar, from Crayon Pop. Mingi and Jungkook stood side by side, facing the camera. He looked at her and counted softly. On one, they began doing the choreography to the music. Jungkook’s moves were smooth and obviously practiced. Mingi was a little less cohesive, often losing her place and looking to Jungkook for guidance. He kept an eye on her, helping her catch up by exaggerating the moves when she’d get lost. Mingi’s laughter covered the sound of the music as she caught on, bouncing to the bright beat. Jungkook was grinning broadly, visible even from the distance of the camera.

When the video ended, Namjoon blinked, surprised to find his eyes had watered. He wasn’t an extremely emotional man – even with his daughter… But there was something about it. His heart clenched when he scrolled back in the video. He paused it at a perfect moment. Mingi was looking up at Jungkook, her eyes wide and adoring. Jungkook was looking down, his expression filled with an equal amount of adoration.

Namjoon blinked quickly to clear his vision, sniffing. He tapped out a response.

‘100 out of 100 for Miss Mingi. 90 out of 100 for Mr. Jeon – your form was off for 0.005 seconds ;)’

Namjoon slipped into the bathroom, taking a moment to collect himself before heading back out to the table with Bora.

On the way his phone buzzed once more, and he couldn’t resist checking it.

‘I call a biased judging! But she’s adorable, so it can slide :D’

Namjoon chuckled and slid his phone into his pocket as he sat down.

“Everything okay?” Bora asked.

“Yeah, just my sitter checking in.”

Bora sighed, folding her hands neatly over her nearly empty plate. “Tonight has been nice, Namjoon-ssi… But I think you and I both can sense it’s not going anywhere. At least not… Where we’d like it to go.”

Namjoon’s shoulders slumped. He nodded, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I feel bad, I wanted to make it work.”

Bora reached over, setting her hand over his. “It’s not your fault, or mine. Sometimes these things just don’t work. You are a lovely man, and your daughter sounds like an angel. Someone will be very lucky to finally call you theirs.”

“You too, Bora.” Namjoon squeezed her hand gently. “Yoongi was right, you are amazing. I would like to be friends, if you want.”

She beamed. “I’d enjoy that. So see, the night was not lost. We’ve made new friends.”

Namjoon nodded, smiling softly. “You are right.” He reached up, calling for the check. “Do you have a way home? We can share a car.”

“No, I have my roommate coming to pick me up in a while. I had a feeling we may end things early.”

“Understandable.”

“Do you want a ride?”

“No, I’ll take a car. I need to stop and get cash for Jungkook anyways.”

Namjoon took the bill gratefully and handed over his card to the server.

When it was returned, Namjoon rose, helping Bora into her jacket and standing out with her until her friend came. She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He smiled softly and waved, watching as the car drove off. He called a car for himself, leaning against a nearby light pole. As he waited, he found himself watching the video Jungkook had sent a few more times, his heart seeming to clench uncomfortably each time.

The man was unbearably beautiful. And so good with Mingi, Namjoon had never seen someone so naturally good with children. And Mingi’s adoration was clear – she was quite fond of Jungkook already. He would need to have Jungkook over more often. Not even as a sitter, perhaps for dinner one night. He wanted to get to know the boy more himself, if he was being honest.

Namjoon let his mind wander, and it drifted almost naturally to Jungkook. His body – his smile.

He wondered what the boy’s story was, where he was from, why he wanted to dance. What he did for fun… If he had a partner… Namjoon knew it was a dangerous line of thinking, but he couldn’t help it. He climbed into the car once it arrived, gazing out the window as they wove through the traffic toward his part of the city.

The house was quiet when Namjoon entered, and only the hallway light was on. He scowled, looking around. The remains of dinner in the trash, a receipt on the counter… Jungkook’s bag unzipped on the couch, a few books sticking out. Namjoon resisted the urge to snoop. He walked quietly down the hall, peeking into Mingi’s room.

She was curled up in her bed, arms wrapped in a stranglehold around her little Pegasus as she slept. Jungkook was also in her room. He was sprawled out on the floor, using one of Mingi’s stuffed puppies as a pillow. A textbook and notebook were open to his right, a pencil rolled a few feet away. Chemistry, if Namjoon’s eyes served him correctly. One of Mingi’s storybooks was open to Jungkook’s left. His eyes were shut, plush lips parted as he snored softly.

Namjoon snuck in as quietly as he could, picking up the pencil and carefully shutting the text book. He scooped it up before reaching out and shaking Jungkook lightly.

Jungkook snorted and shifted, blinking tiredly. He looked up and his eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, bowing low.

“Sorry—” He whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Namjoon responded in a quiet voice He beckoned Jungkook out of the room and shut Mingi’s door.

“What time did she go down?” Namjoon asked, handing Jungkook’s school supplies back to him as they walked back into the living room.

“A little before I sent you that video. We were busy so I didn’t have a chance to send it before.”

Namjoon nodded. He flipped on the living room light and leaned on the wall, watching Jungkook pack up his backpack.

“You are great with her. Do you have siblings?”

“An older brother, none younger. I’ve just always really liked kids. I help out at the local dance studio when I can, working with five to seven year olds.”

“The one a few blocks away from the college?”

Jungkook nodded. “That’s the one Hoseok told me to enroll Mingi in.”

“Honestly, if I’m not speaking out of turn, the girl has a lot of natural talent. You’d do well to let her nurture it.”

“I’ve thought of it. I’m just…” Namjoon chuckled, “Over protective.”

Jungkook nodded, He sat down on the couch. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.” Namjoon sat down with him.

“Hobi-hyung told me you were young, and a single father. But you aren’t much older than me. Mingi is school age. What… Happened?”

Namjoon smiled. “When I was a sophomore in college, I hooked up with a kind freshman. She was pre-law, on a scholarship, had a bright future. I was a jackass rich kid who thought I owned the world. We had sex, and the condom broke.” He shrugged. “I knew it was my responsibility too. Having a baby and raising it would have ruined her life. She didn’t want that. So I took responsibility. I offered to help her through the pregnancy, and then when the child was born I’d take full custody.”

“So she’s not in the picture at all?”

“We’re still friends, and she does know Mingi. But she isn’t a mother. Some people just aren’t meant to be parents, and she is one of them, we both know it. I, on the other hand… Have always wanted to be a dad. I just got my wish a few years sooner than planned.”

“So you’re… Only what, Hobi-hyung’s age?”

Namjoon nodded. “We’re the same year, yeah. A few years older than you.”

“You’re so mature and put together.” Jungkook looked around. “I’d kill to be this set up when I’m in my early twenties.”

“It can happen. Just takes dedication.”

“So how did your date go?” Jungkook suddenly asked. He stretched out and lifted his arms, baring his tight stomach for a moment. Not that Namjoon was looking…

“Wh—” Namjoon looked back up to Jungkook’s face. “Oh, uh, yeah, it didn’t go well. She was nice, but…”

“Not compatible.”

“Right.”

Jungkook nodded. “That’s too bad,” he said softly, looking down at his lap.

“Why?” “Well… If it didn’t work out, there’s no more need for a babysitter. I was kinda hoping to come over more to watch Mingi and see… You.”

Jungkook met Namjoon’s gaze, smiling a little. “She must have been blind. You’re a stunning man.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Thank you for the praise, Jungkook. But it was just our personalities, really.”

“Well still. She’s missing out.”

“Just because I don’t have another date with her doesn’t mean I won’t need a sitter. Especially one as good with Mingi and as kind… Maybe I’ll find more time to go out.”

“Or you could stay in,” Jungkook offered. “And just have me over… To hang out.”

Namjoon remained silent. He met Jungkook’s gaze, a little surprised to see his expression had darkened to something far more… Primal. Namjoon’s stomach knotted.

“Jungkook—"

“I like you. I did the second you opened that door. You’re handsome and mature and a good parent. You seem like the kind of man that knows what he wants… And goes and gets it.”

The spit in Namjoon’s mouth seemed to dry up all at once. “I—I suppose that’s been said.”

“So why are you hesitating?”

Namjoon tilted his head a little, unsure what Jungkook was implying.

“It’s okay, you know,” Jungkook said softly.

“What is?”

Jungkook smirked. He leaned a little closer to Namjoon. “That you wanna fuck the babysitter.”

Namjoon yelped, jumping to his feet, his eyes widening. “What?!”

Jungkook covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughter to no avail. He looked pointedly at Namjoon’s crotch, not moving from the couch.

Namjoon scowled and looked down. Much to his surprise, he realized his slacks, which fit far too tightly anyways, were beginning to tent with the half-erection he’d gotten. Half hard just from sitting next to a handsome man, what was he, a teenager? Namjoon covered his crotch quickly. “That’s not— I mean, I’m not a pervert, I—“

“You what?” Jungkook pressed. “Weren’t picturing me naked?”

Namjoon’s silence seemed to give Jungkook the answer he needed. He rose, stepping toward Namjoon. “It’s a normal fantasy, I suppose. A single parent... A young, handsome man. A big empty bed...” He pushed Namjoon’s hands away from his crotch and cupped the bulge, a smirk on his pretty mouth.

Namjoon’s eyes rolled back. He could feel his cock hardening further, and Jungkook gave a tentative stroke, sending sparks up his spine.

“It’s big,” he cooed. “I’ll say it again, Mr.Kim...” He moved closer, pressing his lips against Namjoon’s neck before moving to his ear. “Do you wanna fuck your babysitter?”

Namjoon gave a strained groan before nodding quickly.

“I want you too, sir,” Jungkook responded. Namjoon’s cock twitched in Jungkook’s hand. The way he loved being called that.

“I don’t get many men to fuck me good and hard... They make me top, usually. Do you want to fuck my ass? Bend me over and make sure I remember you tomorrow?”

“Jungkook—“

“Take me to bed, Mr. Kim.”

“Call me Namjoon, please—“

“I will... But wouldn’t you prefer sir?”

Namjoon moaned brokenly. He grabbed Jungkook’s hair and yanked his head back, pressing their lips together hard. Jungkook sighed contentedly against Namjoon’s mouth. He twisted his hips forward, and Namjoon could feel Jungkook’s cock growing hard in his jeans. Namjoon broke the kiss quickly and dragged him toward the bedroom, kicking the door shut before shoving him onto his back onto the bed.

Jungkook giggled, biting his bottom lip. He looked up at Namjoon, reaching down to undo his jeans. Namjoon crawled over him, catching his mouth in another kiss. He pushed Jungkook’s hands out of the way and undid the zipper himself, reaching in to stroke Jungkook’s cock through his boxers.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Jungkook muttered against his mouth.

“Do you want it?” Namjoon worried, pressing kisses over his cheek and jaw.

“I do. I wanted to kiss you from the moment I met you,” Jungkook admitted. He slid his hands over Namjoon’s shoulders and then around, undoing the buttons on his shirt. “You looked so nice dressed up. You smelled so good. I was a bit jealous.”

Namjoon lifted his head, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Jealous?”

“Mhm… That I was the babysitter… And you were going out with someone else.” He pushed his shirt open and leaned up, kissing Namjoon’s bare chest. He bit down lightly on Namjoon’s nipple. The surprise pleasure-pain of it twisted Namjoon’s stomach into little knots, his balls drawing up as his cock twitched.

Jungkook laid back and bucked his hips, his eyelids fluttering shut when his bulge rubbed over Namjoon’s thigh.

“Get these clothes off before I rip them off,” Namjoon huffed. He rose and stripped out of his own clothing quickly, his hands shaking as he fought with his belt. Jungkook stripped far more slowly, taking his time to peel his clothing off. Namjoon knew it was on purpose – and it was working – each inch of skin the handsome man revealed had his brain that much closer to short circuiting.

When Jungkook was naked, he got up from the bed and then sank to his knees in front of Namjoon, reaching up to pull his boxers down. Namjoon’s vision blurred a little as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Jungkook’s breath was hot against the sensitive skin of his shaft. He grinned up at him.

“Want me to suck your cock, sir?” He purred. Namjoon may have forgotten how to swallow.

His throat clicked and he nodded, not trusting his voice.

Jungkook laughed a little. He stroked Namjoon gently a few times before wrapping his lips around his tip. His mouth was warm and soft. It sent all sorts of tingles through Namjoon’s body.

“Oh, Jungkook…” He sighed softly, letting his hand rest lightly on Jungkook’s head. His hair was silky smooth, and Namjoon couldn’t resist running his fingers through it. Jungkook rolled his eyes up, meeting Namjoon’s gaze as he moved forward, taking more of his cock into his mouth. He sucked almost cautiously, huffing a quiet laughing sound through his nose when Namjoon shivered. Another suck, a little harder, and his tongue slid flatly over the underside of the tip.

“Your mouth,” Namjoon groaned, reaching back to steady himself with the nightstand.

Jungkook pulled off with a pop.

“Maybe you should sit.”

“Maybe I should just fuck you,” Namjoon suggested instead, pulling Jungkook up and kissing him deeply. He reached around, squeezing his ass before spreading it, and letting his finger slide over Jungkook’s tight hole.

Jungkook giggled against his mouth, breaking the kiss and blinking at him with almost an innocence.

“You want to fuck me bad, huh?” He purred, sliding his hands over Namjoon’s chest. Namjoon nodded. Jungkook crawled onto the bed. “Do you have lube? I can give you a show...” He spread his legs open and slid his hands down his inner thighs.

“You know... Next time.”

Namjoon grabbed Jungkook’s ankles and twisted his legs over one another. Jungkook got the picture and flipped onto his belly. Namjoon lifted his hips as he crawled onto the bed, spreading his ass open.

Jungkook was shaved smooth and clean around his hole, the skin looking delectably soft.

Namjoon thumbed his hole. “God, you’re gonna be so tight on my dick...”

“I like it tight,” Jungkook panted against the pillow. “I like the stretch.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Namjoon held his ass open and spat. He leaned down, catching the spit with his tongue and lapping wetly over Jungkook’s hole. He tasted like fresh soap and something distinctly him. Namjoon could get addicted.

He immediately began to work his tongue against the tight rim, pausing to lick wet stripes over his ass and balls, massaging his rim with his fingers until it finally began to relax. He picked up a rhythm and pattern with his tongue and fingers, starting to slip more easily into Jungkook’s hole. Namjoon pulled back, scissoring his fingers. Jungkook was gripping the pillow moaning and gasping into it. His hips were raised just enough for the tip of his cock to bump the bed when he moved. A dark streak of precome told Namjoon his sweet new bed mate was trying desperately to hump the bed.

Endearing, really. Namjoon lifted Jungkook’s hips higher, removing the stimulation against his ruddy, hard cock tip.

Jungkook whimpered, looking back. His cheeks were pink, sweat dotting his forehead and plastering a few strands of hair down.

“Please—“

Namjoon reached between his legs, giving his cock a few firm tugs. As he did, he drove his tongue back up Jungkook’s ass, smirking as the inner muscle reluctantly gave way.

Jungkook grunted into the pillow, jerking forward.

“Please!” He sobbed, his voice muffled. Perfect.

Namjoon rose and laid over Jungkook, letting his cock nestle between Jungkook’s perky ass cheeks. He kissed over his shoulder as he reached out for the lube, tucked into his top drawer.

“I bet I could make you squirt from eating you out,” he whispered. Maybe I should have you ride my face. Come all over yourself with just my tongue up your tight little ass.”

Jungkook sobbed brokenly.

“No, please—“ He gasped. “Need your cock, sir, please.”

“I know you do, Jungkookie. Just relax. I’ll give it to you.”

Namjoon kissed his cheek and rose back on his knees. He added lube to Jungkook’s hole, and then his own cock. He lined his tip up, taking a moment to appreciate the scene. His babysitter - a young man he’d just met... So fucking handsome. So fucking eager to take his dick. He was definitely making the most of this.

Jungkook screamed into the pillow when Namjoon slid his cock in, stretching him open. He was impossibly tight, even with preparation. Jungkook reached back, holding his ass open. Namjoon took advantage, working more of his cock in. He could see the stretch of Jungkook’s rim, and the way his fingers bit into his plump ass cheeks. His cock was girthy all the way down as he pushed it into Jungkook, rock solid and throbbing against Jungkook’s sensitive rim.

“That’s it,” Jungkook gasped, turning his head so he could be heard. “Fuck my ass, sir. Pound the babysitter’s tight little hole—“ He cried out when Namjoon slammed in, burying himself to the hilt. He took a moment to let Jungkook relax around him - or maybe a moment to relax his own body, Namjoon wasn’t sure, before beginning to fuck into him.

Jungkook rose to his knees, wrapping his arms back around Namjoon’s shoulders as he moaned. His hard cock bounced with each thrust, dribbling precome onto the sheets.

“Fuck me,” he whined softly in Namjoon’s ear. “Wreck my tight little hole. I know you need it, you’re so hard in me. Oh—“ He let his head fall back when Namjoon’s teeth found purchase on his shoulder, a firm bite.

“Gonna mark me up?” He purred into Namjoon’s ear. “I came here for a simple job, and you’re violating my body in every way.”

Namjoon’s cock throbbed in his ass, and Jungkook smirked against his jaw. “You like that. You gonna come in me too? Fill me up? I bet there’s a lot - You’re so pent up, sir.”

Jungkook moaned in his ear. Namjoon’s speed increased. “Yes—“ he whined. “Fuck me and fill me up, send me home all full of you, please—“ he sobbed brokenly. Namjoon pulled out suddenly, and Jungkook’s hole gaped, flexing around nothing.

He cried out when Namjoon flipped him onto his back. Their gazes met for a moment and Namjoon smirked. He put Jungkook’s legs over his shoulders and lifted his hips, pulling his ass open.

Namjoon spat directly onto the tiny gape, watching as it dribbled into Jungkook’s ass. Jungkook whined softly. “Please—“

Namjoon obliged, lining his cock up and pushing back in. He laid over Jungkook, folding him up as he began to fuck him once more.

The new angle felt more intense, and the eye contact Namjoon now held seemed so much more intimate. Jungkook’s cheeks were a delightful pink, and growing redder. He moaned sweetly, reaching up to hold onto Namjoon’s shoulders.

“So quiet now,” Namjoon teased, his strokes long and deep, making Jungkook’s toes curl against his thighs as his cock slid over his prostate again and again. “Where’s that dirty mouth?”

“D— Do you like it when I talk dirty?” Jungkook panted.

Namjoon leaned down, kissing over his ear. “You were driving me wild, Jungkook,” he growled. “Do you still want my load, baby? Want me to send you home with an ass full of my come?”

Jungkook moaned, his fingers biting into Namjoon’s shoulders.

“Yes! Yes, please, sir— Give it to me—“ Jungkook’s eyes rolled back. “I’m so close—“

“Come then. Come from me wrecking your pretty little hole,” Namjoon demanded. He shifted, picking up speed and aggression with each thrust.

Jungkook clawed streaks down Namjoon’s back, slamming his head back into the pillow. The pleasure pain of it was nearly too much, but Namjoon struggled to hold on. Jungkook’s cock began to spurt onto his stomach, ass clenching around Namjoon’s cock as he came, choking out Namjoon’s name.

“That’s it.” Namjoon’s voice was smoky and thick, doing his best to drag Jungkook’s orgasm out. “Squeeze my cock, baby. Lemme know how good you’re squirting for me.” He groaned softly. “Such a tight little butt— Fuck— I’m not pulling out—“ he warned.

“Don’t!” Jungkook pleaded. He reached down, grabbing Namjoon’s hips. “Come deep— Oh fuck please, come up my ass, Namjoon, please— Deeper— Oh God!”

Namjoon swore softly. He buried himself to the hilt, and began to thrust shallowly as his body lit up, sparks of pleasure igniting his nerves. His cock began to jerk as he fucked into Jungkook’s relaxing body. Each twitch was hard and rhythmic as he came, spilling deep inside Jungkook. Jungkook began to clench and relax his rim, trying to milk as much from Namjoon’s cock as he could, even as Namjoon began to soften inside him.

Jungkook let his legs fall open, reaching up to wipe sweat from his brow. He smiled sleepily. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” Namjoon mumbled. He pulled out slowly, flopping onto the bed beside Jungkook. “You okay?”

“Mhm… Relaxed.”

Namjoon grabbed a tissue, carefully wiping Jungkook’s stomach, and then sitting up to clean the lube and mess left behind from their sex.

Jungkook smiled and nodded his thanks before sighing far more heavily. He opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon worried, lying next to him once more.

“I should go home.”

“Oh…” Namjoon hesitated. “Or, I mean… It’s late. You could just stay the night.”

Jungkook looked over, his brows furrowed and mouth in a soft pout. “You… Would want me to?”

“Well, I’m not kicking you out after we just made love. If you don’t wanna go…”

“What about Mingi?”

“Well, if she asks, where else would I have you sleep? You’re too big for the couch comfortably. And you couldn’t very well sleep in her room. And I wouldn’t want you driving late at night…”

Jungkook smiled softly.

“Aw, Mr. Kim… Sounds like you’re almost fond of me. This wasn’t just sex?”

Namjoon’s smile wavered. Jungkook – though teasing – did bring up a good point. Jungkook seemed to notice his shift, because he moved just enough to kiss Namjoon hard.

“If it was, I’m okay with that. But if it wasn’t… I think I’d be okay with that too,” he said softly. Instead of letting Namjoon answer, he kissed him once more, cupping his cheek.

Namjoon reached up, holding his wrist. He pulled away, pressing their foreheads together.

“I didn’t give much thought about it, honestly. You are so young, have a whole bright future. I’m already established… I have a kid. I’m not an easy person to have a relationship with, especially not someone in your shoes.”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.” Jungkook laid back down. “But let’s not talk about it tonight. We had amazing sex. I’m all loose and relaxed, and I am tired. Why don’t we get some sleep, and we can talk about it tomorrow, when we’re both fully rested and more aware.”

Namjoon nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.” He kicked the blankets down and pulled them over them. Jungkook snuggled up to him, resting his head on his shoulder and slinging one arm across Namjoon’s middle. His body was warm and soft. It was so… Comforting, if Namjoon was being honest. He could get quite used to something like this, he thought as he wiggled a little closer to Jungkook. If Jungkook did want to date him… He could definitely get used to this.

Namjoon could faintly hear the television. It sounded like a children’s program. Mingi was probably up. He snuggled deeper under his blankets, Jungkook’s warm body still wrapped around him. The morning sunlight was streaming through his window, lightening his eyelids. Heaving a weak sigh, he opened his eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the light before looking over at Jungkook. He was just as beautiful in the daylight. His hair mussed from the pillow, soft lips parted as he slept, chest rising slow and steady. Namjoon’s heart clenched uncomfortably. He wanted Jungkook. As far more than a babysitter, or fuckbuddy, or friend. He truly wanted him. They’d need to talk today.

Namjoon frowned at the door, hearing what sounded like Mingi having a conversation with someone. He wasn’t expecting anyone today… And Mingi knew not to open the door for strangers. Before Namjoon could stand, his bedroom door creaked open.

Namjoon sat up a little, expecting his daughter. Instead, Yoongi stood in the doorway, a cup holder of coffee gripped in his hands. Hoseok stood behind him, a cardboard box. Namjoon’s eyes widened. He saw Yoongi and Hoseok both move their gaze from him, to Jungkook, and back to him.

“What the fuck,” Hoseok strained.

Jungkook sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. “What’s – Oh…” He smiled sheepishly when he realized the company in the bedroom. “Morning, Hyung...”

Namjoon cleared his throat. “What brings you here this morning?”

“Bora...” Yoongi drifted off. “She told me you two didn’t work out. We came to... Can we speak to you outside for a second, Namjoon?”

It was Namjoon’s turn to smile sheepishly. “Sure. Wait for me? We need, ah...” he motioned to their pants and shirts strewn on the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi backed out, shutting the door.

Jungkook grimaced. “I feel like I’m about to get scolded by a parent.”

“Same,” Namjoon admitted. He rose, pulling on a pair of sweats and a shirt. “Do you wanna wear yesterday’s clothes? Something of mine might fit you...”

“I should wear yesterday’s.”

Namjoon nodded. He watched Jungkook rise, unable to hide the small smile that curved his mouth up.

“You’re so handsome.”

Jungkook grinned brightly, pulling on his clothes. “You’re just saying that.”

“Am not. Really, Jungkook... I like you.”

“I like you too, Namjoon.”

“We should talk. About that.”

Jungkook nodded. “I agree. After we talk to them,” he chuckled a little. He approached Namjoon, touching his upper arm. “Can I kiss you?”

“I’d like that.”

Jungkook closed the space between their mouths, giving Namjoon a chaste peck on the mouth. He pulled back, smiling.

Namjoon opened the door. Hoseok and Yoongi both rose from the couch.

“Jungkook, would you mind Mingi?” Hoseok asked. Jungkook nodded. He sat next to her, immediately drawing her bubbly attention.

Yoongi motioned with his head, and Namjoon followed the couple outside.

“What the fuck, Namjoon,” Hoseok said as soon as the door was shut.

“Why are you swearing at me?”

“I sent you a babysitter, not a fucking hooker.”

“Hey!” Namjoon snapped. “It wasn’t like that.”

“What about the date, Namjoon?”

Yoongi asked. “Why didn’t Bora work out? It wasn’t him...”

“No!” Namjoon shook his head. “Not at all. She’s great. I really enjoyed her company. But she’s not... For me. It has nothing to do with Jungkook.”

“I find that hard to believe since he was naked in your damn bed this morning,” Hoseok argued, crossing his arms.

“He’s not a child, Hobi,” Namjoon argued. “You act like I forced him.”

“You were his employer last night, Namjoon,” Yoongi said.

“He made the first move! I reciprocated! I like him, hyung.”

“He’s one of my best students.”

“And if he were to date another student? Would you throw a fit?” Namjoon sighed, letting his arms fall. “I really do like him. The sex was great but... He is so good with Mingi. She adores him. And I find him so easy to talk to. I want to try with him.”

“Hobi...” Yoongi said softly. He glanced over at Hoseok.

“He made the first move?” Hoseok clarified. Namjoon nodded, smiling a little.

“He’s quite brazen. I couldn’t say no.”

“Little brat’s gonna be cleaning the dance studio for a week,” Hoseok muttered without much venom.

Namjoon grinned at that. “Don’t be too hard on him; he’ll probably be sore for a few days.”

Hoseok blinked, then blinked again, before realization dawned on him. He made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a scream, and gave a dramatic full body shudder.

“That is my student, Kim Namjoon.”

“And hopefully my boyfriend... if I play my cards right.”

“I do hope it works out,” Yoongi said. “For what it’s worth. You two did look pretty cute together.”

“You should see him with Mingi, hyung. They’re already two peas in a pod.”

“I saw the video he sent Hoseok. They do seem to get along great.”

Namjoon’s smile grew almost painfully wide. “That made my whole night.”

“Come on, we should get in. We got you coffee, but didn’t expect a fourth...”

“I’m sure we’ll make due.”

Namjoon entered, smiling softly. Jungkook was folded up on the floor, coloring with Mingi in one of her books. She was babbling on about something, and Jungkook continued to nod and respond appropriately.

“Mingi, come get food,” Yoongi called.

She bounced up, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and tugging him toward the kitchen. Jungkook let himself be pulled, backtracking to Namjoon as Yoongi served Mingi.

“Get in too much trouble?” He worried.

“No. But even if I had... It’d be worth it,” Namjoon confessed. He reached up, brushing a lock of hair from Jungkook’s forehead. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Just studying.”

“Have enough free time to slip in a dinner date?”

Jungkook grinned. He stepped a little closer to Namjoon, setting his hands on his hips. “I think I could pull myself away for a few hours.” He pressed a kiss to Namjoon’s mouth. Namjoon grinned against his mouth, chuckling a little. He pulled back still smiling.

“You know what this means?” He walked to the table, grabbing the coffee Yoongi held out for him.

“What?” Jungkook asked.

“I’ll need to find a new babysitter.”

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ellieswhoreeee · 3 years

Text

The Two of Us. pt 2

authors note; thank you guys for the support, it really means a lot to me! Im glad you guys liking the story so far! Anyways, here’s part two! Also, i’d like to apologize in advance for any errors or if something doesn’t make sense. English isn’t my first language so i’m sorry if there’s something wrong :)

Endgame pairings: Ellie Williams x fem! reader.

Warnings: Violence, marijuana, swearing, ect.

———————————————————————

It really hurt seeing them together.

You felt the disappointment, the hurt and the jealousy as they simply talked. Though you know there was a deeper meaning behind their seemingly innocent conversation. You know more than anyone about them. Being one Ellie’s best friends is both a blessing and a curse.

She smiled, looking slightly flustered after Cat whispered something in her ear, and you couldn’t help but clench your jaw at that.

It was a troubling sight, really it was. Everything seemed so off. Like it wasn’t real. But it was. Ellie was laughing with the cool girl who can do tattoos, one of your friends. God, it really felt like you were getting jabbed in the heart over and over again.

But you had no right to jealous at all. She wasn’t yours to be jealous about.

Cat looked around, making sure nobody was looking- but held eye contact with you for a moment before she leaned in and kissed Ellie on the lips. That’s when you finally looked away, continuing to fix Gemini’s saddle.

Gemini was tied to the fence by the barn and was close to the fence. Other horses lined up beside his right side. Today’s group was getting to leave for the morning. Earlier than usual.

Mondays are rough.

“How long have they been together now?” Jesse asked when he walked over to you as you were packing up for patrol. You turned to look at him so you could have an actual conversation. He looked directly into your eyes, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. Jesse was someone who could see everything with one look. You kinda hated him for knowing so much about how you felt about Ellie without telling him much about it.

“…I wanna say 2 months, but we both know it’s been longer than that.” You replied with a frown, continuing to distract yourself by finishing to prep Gemini for patrol.

“Y/n, could you stop looking so miserable? It’s starting to bum me out.”

You chuckled lightly, finally stepping away from Gemini and decided to lean against the wooden fence beside your horse. Jesse decided to the same, and he leaned against it with you. You looked down at your hands, deciding to pick at your cuticles just so you wouldn’t look at the couple. “Why don’t you look just as miserable as me? Didn’t Dina break up with you? Again.”

“Ouch, you really know how to turn on certain emotions.”

“I’m serious. Like, i haven’t been broke up with, yet here i am…” You paused, you stopped picking at your cuticles just to look across the street, where the couple was. Happily minding their business. Ellie and Cat were talking and laughing sweetly. Again, with that pain in your chest. “Utterly heartbroken.”

Jesse patted you on the back, it was his way of comforting you since he had no idea how else to help. “It won’t get easier. One moment you think you’re stronger than whatever you’re feeling but then… you realize it doesn’t matter how good you hide it. If you keep on hiding it, the pain will get to you before you can express those feelings properly.”

“I’m gonna be honest Jesse… I have no idea what you mean by that.”

“Of course you don’t…” He mumbled with a laugh. Again he patted you on the back and pushed himself off the fence. “Think about it clearly.” He then walked off, somewhere towards Maria and some other adults.

Again, you and Gemini were left alone together.

You couldn’t help but think about what Jesse brought up earlier. What did he mean by that? You’re not sure how to process what he meant. Either you were completely clueless- or Jesse tried to be all wise but failed.

“Y/n! Come over here.” You heard Maria’s voice, which broke you from your trance. You left Gemini tied to the post as you walked over to Maria and some other people. Mila and Benji smirk at you as you walk closer. Mila and Benji are your close friends and have been for a while. Though you haven’t seen them lately because of work. Everyone is extra busy lately. Mostly.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” Benji remarked as he wrapped his arm around you once you were close. He pulled you closer and walked towards Maria’s table that was used for placing maps for patrol.

You pushed him off of you gently and made a grossed out face at him. “You really stink, Benji. When was the last time you took a shower?”

Benji only smiled and raised his left arm up to smell his armpit and his clothes too. “It’s my natural musk, all the ladies love it.”

You and Mila looked at each other simultaneously. It was as if you were on the same wavelength. Both of your rolled your eyes at him. “As a lady, i will be speaking for everyone when i say you smell nasty.” Mila exposed truthfully while crossing her arms on her chest.

“Hold up, you’re not a lady, you’re a brute.”

“Oh, i’m the brute? You haven’t taken a proper shower in weeks. Jumping into lakes and rivers don’t count.”

“Says who? It’s more natural,”

“More like nasty.”

You ignored the two bickering idiots and moved closer to the table where Maria was. “What were you thinking Maria?” You asked, looking down at the map of the area. It stretched out for miles.

She looked up at you. “Have you ever done the urban trails? It leads up to the dam checkpoint.”

You shook your in response. “I haven’t. Do you want me to take that route? You should pair me up with someone who’s done that trail then.”

There’s a lot of trails, so there are at least 10 or 15 trails you’ve never done before. These type of trails are the longer routes. The reason you haven’t done those routes is because Tommy isn’t that confident in you to take on the longer routes.

But now it was different, not only are you older but more capable of handling yourself more than anyone.

“You’re right…” Maria paused, she was thinking, trying to slowly put some pieces together. “But there isn’t anyone on duty right now who knows the trails that i can think of.”

Jesse’s head perked up at what she said, smirking at you from across the table. He was right next to Maria like always. She trusts him a lot because he was also a natural leader. “Actually, Ellie knows that trail.”

You instinctively felt your heartbeat start to speed up, and your face started to warm up at his insinuation. You knew what he was doing. “Ellie and Dina are already planning on running their routes on chestnut drive. I can take a group and we’ll figure it out together.” You intervened, giving Jesse a look that said, ‘shut up’.

“No, Jesse is right. You and Ellie can take the urban trails. It’ll be much faster with you two clearing that area. We can’t send a group to one trail- especially not now when we’ve been getting reports of infected in the southern territories- the opposite direction of urban trails.”

You sighed, knowing that her words were always final. You scratched the back of your neck- feeling an inch. “I’ll go let Ellie know. Jesse talk to Dina.” You give him another glare and just he smiled, sending a wink your way.

You turned around, looking over at where Cat and Ellie were still talking. Lately, things have been awkward between you two. It may have something to do with the fact that you maybe- just maybe that you were avoiding her.

It didn’t really matter, Ellie hasn’t noticed anything differently anyways. Or so you assumed.

“Ellie!” At the sound of your voice she quickly turned away from her girlfriend. She dropped Cats hands and fully turned to face you. Her full attention was now on you. But of course, you didn’t notice that either. “Assignments! Let’s go, kiss your girlfriend goodbye and get your ass on shimmer!”

It was getting easier to hide your feelings, even your distain for the couple and how you felt about Ellie.

“Fuck… Alright, just give me a minute!”

You gave her a thumbs up, and turned away. You walked towards your horse, seeing Jesse waiting there for you. He must have finished talking with Dina. He held out a hunting rifle and a shotgun towards you. He looked between both guns. “Which one do you prefer?” He questioned.

You smiled, looking at both guns. “Quite the tough question, Jes.”

Ellie walked up behind you, looking right over your shoulder. She was so close to you. Your breathe hitched lightly as she observed both guns. “I think you’re more of a rifle girl. It suits you more than a shotgun.”

Jesse grinned, and his eyes sparkled for a moment when you looked at him. He then nodded, agreeing with what Ellie had said. “That settles that then.” He held the rifle for you to take, which you did. Jesse then passed the shotgun to Ellie.

With the help of the sling, you tossed the rifle over your shoulder. Ellie was staring at you, trying desperately to get your attention without having to say anything but you were occupied with Gemini once again. She sighed, and decided to just start the conversation.

“So… Where have you been lately? I haven’t seen you around, not even in the mess hall.” Ellie hesitated but walked over to Gemini’s mane. You were by his saddle, and when you stared into her eyes it felt like it was only you and her. Instinctively, your eyes trailed from her eyes to her lips. You couldn’t help it. She was so close. Ellie shyly looked down at her hands as she continued to mess with Gemini’s mane. “I’ve uh… Missed hanging out with you. We still haven’t finished our halo campaign.”

You bit the inside of you cheek, and decided that laughing nervously would help ease your nerves. “Yeah, i’m sorry about that. I asked Maria for more assignments since… You know, i have nothing better to do.”

Ellie wanted to say something but held her tongue. She wanted to say something to continue your conversation but you interrupted her instead. “Listen, Maria wants you and me to handle the urban trails. Pretty sure we have to replace Danny and Axel at the dam checkpoint …”

“You and i,” Ellie corrected suddenly, making you stare at her in disbelief and confusion. She gave you a smirk. “You said ‘you and me’ but that isn’t proper grammar.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at her. “Fuck off, Williams. Did you even listen to a word i said?”

“So, we’re back to last names? Since when?”

“Since you decided to be a grammar queen, you dick.”

“Woah! Language, there are children around, L/n!”

“The only child i see is you.” You replied with a happy smile on your face. You and Ellie climbed on your horses and waited by the gates. Ellie continue to talk to you like nothing was wrong- well, not like she knew if there was something wrong anyways. You kept stuff to yourself.

You missed this. You missed hanging out with Ellie. You just… Missing having her by your side, kicking the worlds ass together but now… Ellie was with Cat. Her relationship put a wedge on your friendship. You felt farther away to Ellie then ever.

Everything has changed. Which sucked because you weren’t sure how to deal with the changes. It was all going by so fast. You just wished everything was different. It was selfish of you but… You didn’t care.

“Y/n, you with me?” Ellie snapped you out of your thoughts. She looked back at you as the gates opened.

You nodded. “Always.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #reader insert #the last of us part two #jesse tlou #dina tlou #maria tlou #tommy tlou #joel miller #tlou2 ellie

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sepublic · 3 years

Text

How messed up is it that even in this room full of people, surrounded by her old friends, and the new ones (not counting a certain king), Marcy is feeling at her loneliest here. Like, literally no one is coming forward to comfort her, to acknowledge that she’s literally just a scared child who was emotionally manipulated –as Andrias himself blatantly spelled out to the group- and is just terrified of isolation.

Everyone else I understand, but I wish Olivia and Yunnan had done something. That’s such a cruel irony, that Marcy is in the company and presence of so many people, yet she’s so isolated and by herself and apart from the rest, who all have one another to some degree (save Andrias, but even he has his master down in the basement). Marcy is emotionally cut off, and nobody’s really raising a finger to comfort her, to at least respond to and acknowledge her valid fears.

Marcy is practically begging in front of an entire crowd to spare her some sympathy, to consider her viewpoint, to acknowledge that she’s not entirely wrong in wanting to do something about what happened- And nobody is moved enough, just disturbed, to physically move for Marcy herself; And that lack of response just breaks her even more… Like everyone else is too horrified at this sad display here, to consider the literal person and child behind it who is suffering and is also mortified by their own predicament as well!

And again, Anne and Sasha are valid for not wanting to; As are the Plantars, Andrias definitely doesn’t care, and Grime is with Sasha on just about anything… But c’mon, Yunnan! C’mon Olivia! Throw us and Marcy a bone and adopt her as lesbian newt moms!

Marcy really died thinking that if she didn’t do something to justify and make up for it all, she wasn’t deserving of ANY sympathy of respect for her predicament, which… Is genuinely horrifying. That yeah she messed up, but Marcy’s mistakes are still understandable, she’s still a kid, a kid manipulated by an abuser who gaslit her over his own murder of her, and that alone should be worthy of open sympathy?

It’s not like Marcy has to be excused of her actions to be given some level of comfort and acknowledgement, some empathetic connection, for what she did, even if it’s wrong; Because first and foremost her issue stems from hurting and being alone, and everyone can recognize that. She’s a literal child who never intentionally hurt anyone, definitely not directly, and only acted in desperation because of a horrible situation.

It really is the cruelest joke of this series to have Marcy surrounded by everyone, by so many people, yet to clearly be so much more alone than she’s ever been, the loneliest and most miserable she’s been her entire life, when all around her are friends and people who could and normally would comfort and cherish her, but instead are cherishing one another while leaving Marcy herself out.

Again, not to imply anyone aside from Andrias is at particular fault for these feelings, but still… Marcy really did think from this silence that all of her pain and misery didn’t warrant any sympathy, because she still messed up and that was more important than anything else, so fixing her mistakes was the only thing that could warrant Marcy’s recognition as a human in need of help by the others- And even when she’s dying, she STILL believes that she must atone! All her effort is for nothing; And if anything, makes things even worse… That kind of realization can and DID shatter Marcy’s spirit.

Marcy tried to hold onto her friends and that just resulted in them being resentful of her, and Marcy tries to open and bare herself, something she’s so terrified of doing, because she really does not feel happy with who she is, she’s arguably the least comfortable in her own skin; For once she puts herself out there, warts and all… And instead gets rejection. So, never again- Never again will Marcy dare to open herself up, to admit who she is, to acknowledge her own pain and needs and wants… Because who could ever look at someone like her, the TRUE Marcy, and not be repulsed?

Better to just hide it as always- She was right! Marcy was right in always hiding things, in hiding herself, in NOT being herself, trying to change things about herself or adapt to what people wanted… Because when she finally did, for once, bare herself like that to the world, to the people most likely to reciprocate; She just got dead, uncomfortable silence and rejection. Marcy showed her soul off to the world, her innermost fears, and instead was met with disgust and horror. She really is nothing and must actively atone and make up for herself, right? Marcy finally put herself out there as the scared, lonely kid who desperately needed companionship, vouching for herself, something she always hesitated to do- And look what that got her.

Anne and Sasha don’t need her; They were always good at making connections, at appealing to others. When Marcy tries, it just makes people hate her even more… So if Marcy ever gets out of there, I really can see her being quiet and silent and miserable; Constantly hating and blaming herself, pushing herself to the brink to do the ‘right’ thing, and never paying any heed to her own person… Never again opening up, because nobody wants to see that, right? And Marcy is just even more envious of her friends, for having those real connections in Amphibia, for feeling comfortable with who they are, Anne especially- She had the least of them and only lost, while they gained more without her!

Poor Marcy, always left behind… And she believes that’s what she deserves, that’s how it really should be. Thinking and acting otherwise was what caused this entire dilemma in the first place, right? So shut up- Nobody cares. Don’t try to ask for help, because then others will be turned away… And NEVER admit the truth, because if they don’t immediately throw you aside, they’ll just use and manipulate and murder you.

Just, look at them all around Marcy; Cold, implacable, and uncaring… Not really, but to her that’s how it is, and for one, that IS the case; And that Andrias, he really has the audacity to then mock her for this, to mock Marcy for opening up, for being vulnerable, and punish her for going outside of her shell in this moment, for risking it all in an all-or-nothing gambit by asking Anne, straight up to her face, to be with her.

Marcy is never going to open up again, if this is all she’ll get in response- If all that will do is just make her even MORE hurt and mocked over revealing the sad, lonely, pitiful being she is. Marcy bared her soul for it, and didn’t just get nothing; She was hurt and punished for that, because asking for sympathy just made others mock her even more.

She will never be accepted for admitting how lonely she was, for being lonely, for confessing what she went through and was too scared to admit to the girls- And it seems Marcy was right to be afraid after all, because this is their reaction in the end. Marcy dared to make a plea, to be level and genuine, and was wounded for it; Died for it, and blamed for it.

Just putting herself out there, just trying to claim some sense of stake and agency in this world- Trying to resist that cold, inevitable truth of her worthlessness only makes it worse, so don’t resist, just give up and passively go with the flow. When all is said and done, Marcy might ensure something better for others... Even if she herself is left out, as always, because that’s just what her lot in life is.

That’s simply the cold unfairness and reality of the world- So grow up and accept it, you stupid kid. THIS is what it means to be mature, to be an adult, and grow up- Isn’t that right? To become cold and bitter from trauma and pain, because at least that makes you stronger? Isn’t suffering good for someone like you, who deserves it, because it makes you better in the end, less weak? I’m sure that’s what Andrias thinks.

#amphibia #amphibia spoilers #amphibia marcy #marcy wu #amphibia marcy wu #angst #meta

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gureishi · 3 years

Note

hello,,, (nsfw question probably) how many times a week do you think the RFA members have to .. “relieve stress” ? my bad if you’d already answered it

I have somehow not answered this before! And I'd be delighted to.

NSFW under the cut:

Let's assume, for the sake of this ask, that everyone is single (and I'll write Ray instead of GE Saeran because like...GE is only ever with you).

Once again, thank you to some of my lovely cult wives (@quirky-and-kind @luxielle @truth-be-told-im-lying) for consulting on this. We should start a group ask blog tbh.

Zen watches porn and masturbates on the regular—like, nightly—to help himself relax. He's stressed out a lot and he has trouble sleeping; it helps him to have a beer and jerk off. He knows he's a sexual guy, and he's not ashamed of it—he gets turned on easily enough, and while he knows how to control his erections (he's an actor, after all!), he's also happy to indulge himself. He doesn't often get to feel totally relaxed; it's nice to stop working and running and trying and just focus on himself for a little while.

Yoosung honestly jacks off kind of a lot. He's in college! Living on his own for the very first time! In a single room! And he's like...pretty horny. He's not sure how to even find porn at first (does he ask Zen for help? God...maybe), but he figures it out. He blushes bright red when he's searching for something to watch, but he actually sort of enjoys the whole thing. He's never had this kind of freedom before—it's fun for him.

Jaehee is an expert masturbator, obviously. She doesn't have a lot of time to herself, but she loves an evening alone. She'll light candles and maybe open a bottle of wine. She's not really that into porn—she'd rather use her imagination. She owns lots of toys, and she likes to experiment. She'll lie back on her perfectly-made bed in her silk button-down pajamas and enjoy herself.

Jumin doesn't masturbate a whole lot. He doesn't really have sex on his mind until he meets you; he'll try watching porn simply out of interest, but he doesn't ever get that into it. Sometimes a wave of horniness will catch him by surprise and he'll slip under his luxury comforter and take care of himself—but he won't quite know what to think afterwards. He's so confused about what he wants (sexually, romantically); he's not sure what he needs.

Saeyoung jacks off way less than you might think. He jokes about sex—but in reality, it terrifies him. He doesn't believe that he's deserving of things like pleasure; he doesn't think that he's somebody who gets to enjoy himself in that way. He honestly doesn't think he'll ever have sex—he just doesn't see it happening for him (and he convinces himself that he's okay with that). He has watched porn—really wild stuff—mostly out of curiosity. And he does masturbate—but only when he's really really desperate. And he does it in the dark, and he feels horrible about himself afterwards. He needs to be shown that he is worthy of satisfaction.

Jihyun doesn't feel motivated to masturbate very often. It's not that he doesn't enjoy sex—it's just that he's not often turned on out of the blue. Sex is romantic for him: when he loves you, he is so attracted to you he thinks he will die—but when he's alone, he doesn't necessarily feel all that sexual. He'd be into mutual masturbation, though; he would love to watch you make yourself feel good.

Ray is shockingly horny. Like his brother, he jerks off in the pitch dark because he hates himself (these poor boys); he is constantly finding himself aroused at the least opportune moments. He has hidden in a bathroom to masturbate before because he just didn't know what else to do with himself—and god, he was miserable afterwards. He has so much shame around sex and sexual desire; he wishes he didn't have to feel it at all. But once he meets you—and before he can have you—he is on edge every second. Breathe near him and he'll be a goner.

#mystic messenger #zen #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #jihyun kim #ray choi #headcanons #asks #anon #spicy spaceship

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

Alec barged into the room hoping to clean it. But it seemed Jace had already done that. He groaned in frustration.

He needed something to do. Anything.

Even though the Lightwoods knew the Penhallows, it was still uncomfortable to live in their home.

It was even more uncomfortable to live in Idris – not that he would ever say that out loud.

Alec had always thought that when he finally came back to the shadowhunter homeland, he would feel relieved and excited.

But he just felt miserable.

He was in a city of full of shadowhunters – and he had never more alone.

He missed Brooklyn he realized to his own horror.

He needed a distraction. He needed to focus on something that was here, instead of spending his time thinking about something that was not here.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

“Alec?”

He couldn’t help but look surprised. “Max! What’s up?”

“I have a doubt,” the boy held up his copy of the Codex. “Can you help me?”

“Me?” Alec hated the sound of surprise in his voice. “You want my help?”

“I can ask Jace or Izzy if you’re busy,” Max said quietly.

“No. No. Come here,” Alec pulled up a chair. “What do you need my help with?”

Max peered out of the door and quickly closed it after him. Alec raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t all that surprised. Even though he was the youngest, Max was always up to something.

The little boy took out another book – this one much less thicker - from inside the codex and discarded the Codex onto the bed.

“What’s that?” Alec asked.

“Manga,” Max opened up the book and flipped through the pages.

Alec wasn’t sure how he could help with Manga. But he didn’t want to disappoint Max. So, he waited.

“You are friends with downworlders, right?”

Alec coughed. “I…I wouldn’t say friends. But yes, I know some of them. We work together…for missions and stuff.”

Max nodded. “Do downworlders wear nail polish?

Alec’s heart sped up. “Who..What are you…Did someone tell you something?”

Max looked confused. “No. I was just curious.”

“What brought this on, Max?” Alec asked.

Max pointed at the book. “This is Naruto. It’s my favorite story.”

Alec smiled. “Okay. But what does it have to with downworlders and nail polish?”

“Well, there is this group in Naruto called Akatsuki,” Max explained, pushing his glasses back. “There are like the bad guys I guess.”

Alec listened quietly. Max never really talked to him about these things. Well, Max never really talked to him about much. So, whenever he spoke, Alec always listened.

Maybe that’s why Max had wanted to talk with him.

“Anyway, some of the members of the Akatsuki wear nail polish. Even the guys,” Max carried on. “Mostly in dark colors. But the good guys don’t wear them. So, I wondered if that’s like a bad guy thing? Do any of the downworlders you know wear nail polish?”

Yes, Alec wanted to say, It’s beautiful.

He could do it. He could tell Max. He was a child, but he could keep a secret.

Besides, Alec wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be a secret anymore.

But even from this unfamiliar room, he could see Alicante from the window. He could see the statue of Raziel. He could see everyone.

Alec swallowed his words.

No.

Not here. Never here.

He wasn’t sure what even possessed him to consider that possibility. Only a fool would admit such a thing in the city of angels.

“Alec?” Max prompted.

“Yes?”

“Do the downworlders you know wear nail polish?” Max asked again.

Alec saw colours then.

Purple. Red. Black. Green. Pink.

Once it had been blue, the exact shade of his eyes. Alec had wondered whether Magnus had magically made that one himself – just for Alec.

The thought had seemed a little childish, but Alec had still blushed when Magnus had admitted it to be true.

“Some of them do,” Alec nodded.

“Oh,” Max said. “Are they bad guys?”

Alec didn’t how to answer that. His little brother always asked the tough questions.

Max never made it easy on any of them. He was by far the most inquisitive and curious one out of them all.

Alec knew this little boy was going to cause so much trouble when he grew up. But Alec was excited for it nevertheless.

He would protect Max, just as he protected Jace and Izzy now.

“Well, it’s a little complicated,” Alec pointed out.

“Oh,” Max said again. “How so?”

Alec thought of Magnus then.

He hadn’t known the warlock for a long time. But he knew enough. He knew that Magnus wasn’t a bad guy – and that he could never be.

“Wearing nail polish doesn’t make someone bad,” Alec explained. “Look at Izzy. Is she a bad guy?”

“Only when she cooks,” Max giggled.

“Shhh!” Alec laughed. “She might hear you.”

Max closed his giggling mouth with his small hands and nodded.

“Listen. It’s kind of hard to explain,” Alec said honestly. He didn’t want to lie to Max – not any more than he already did. “I guess it’s mostly because I’m trying to figure it out myself.”

“That’s why I came to you,” Max said simply. “You always figure stuff out.”

Alec knew Max didn’t know how much those words meant to him. But he squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

“This is what I know. There are downworlders out there who are bad. But there are good ones too. It’s the same with shadowhunters. There are good ones and then there are bad ones.”

“Like Valentine?” Max asked, his voice small.

“Like Valentine,” Alec nodded. “He is a bad guy. The baddest guy. But he doesn’t wear nail polish now, does he?”

“I don’t think he can pull it off,” Max pointed out seriously.

Alec laughed. “My point is, we can’t tell whether someone is good or bad by what they wear. It’s not fair.”

“Like judging a book by its cover?” Max asked.

Alec smiled. His brother was smart. Smart enough to run his own institute one day.

“Exactly like that,” Alec agreed. “The only we can tell whether someone is good or bad is by their actions.”

Max considered that for a moment and then nodded. “Alright.”

“That’s it?” Alec asked.

“That’s it,” Max said. “I need to finish the rest of it.”

“You can read here if you want,” Alec offered.

“Really?” Max’s eyes were wide. “You are not going to kick me out when the adults come in?”

“Let me tell you a little secret,” Alec hunched down to his brother’s level. “Jace and Izzy are technically not adults.”

“I knew it!” Max said triumphantly and then jumped onto the bed. “Do you want to read with me?”

“I don’t really know how to read them,” Alec said lamely.

“I’ll teach you,” Max grinned. “It’s very easy.”

It didn’t matter whether it was easy or not. Alec would have done it anyway.

“Alright,” he sat down next to Max. “Tell me more about these guys with the nail polish.”

#I might be a little emo ;)#alec lightwood #max lightwood #dani writes stuff #tmi

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

Enchanted

finally finished this!!! im so happy with it, and will be writing it in thomas’s pov as soon as possible and perhaps part 2?

Sleep evades me. My mind keeps returning to last night, specifically to a certain person I had met last night. I pull the covers higher, burying my head as I finally gave into my wandering mind.

I stand alone, needing a break from my aunt Amelia. The music was beautiful, a soft sound that filled the entire room. The party itself was decorated in a magical way, the columns in the building encompassed in vines, the tables with floral centrepieces. It was a mixture of whimsy and magic, yet no one seemed happy to be here. Everyone I spoke to was forcing smiles, men faked laughter as they believed this was not a party but a way to make business deals and enforce their own reputation. It was absurd how no one was just admiring the effort people put into making this perfect. It was the same every month, I'd walk to the edge of the room and watch. To calm my nerves, to explore the different flower pieces, the musicians and the flickering candles from the chandelier. The gowns women wore only once to try and show their wealth, whilst I tended to wear the same, as it fit the magical atmosphere this room desperately tried to make people see, yet they were too blind by their greed, the need to prove themselves to everyone to just simply stand back and enjoy themselves.

My cousin Liza seemed to be in conversation with Dacina, the host of the party, someone I had spoken to a few times, each being more enjoyable. Her calming demeanour and charm always lifted my spirits. Her family organizes this ball once a month, her father hates it but makes a lot of business so it is always left to her to plan and design it. With the help of Illeana and lots of their servants they always make this place ethereal. Her brother, Thomas Cresswell, only ever shows up for a few hours then leaves, only being able to handle the faking niceties for so long. Dacina told me of his tolerance, or lack thereof, to society. She speaks highly of her brother, as I once did, yet I have never met Mr.Cresswell.

The varnished wooden floor slowly gathers marks as couples danced. How I longed to be one of those dancers, being swivelled by someone I loved. They would look at me as if I was the most magical thing in the room, with a soft smile and adoration in every word he whispers to me. I would be his equal as we spun around, the world fading into nothing as we held each other. Alas, those dreams are not likely for someone cruel enough to carve the dead.

I snap out of my fantasy as a group of older men walk towards the buffet near me. They talk loud enough so everyone can hear, shockingly talking about work. I roll my eyes at them and look away back to the dance floor. The lights above cast shadows, making the scene feel like my imagination as I sit by a fireplace to read a romance novel. If this was a novel, there would be my love interest here, watching and finding the courage to say something. There are families at the table, children clinging to mothers as the men sit and discuss whatever. My father, uncle and aunt sit together in a seemingly civil conversation. I look for Liza again, deciding I should probably stop brooding in the corner but as I look for her my attention keeps going back to the men at the buffet. Not by choice, but by their obnoxious decision to shout their conversation.

“A woman led the strike, ridiculous, she had to go,” I heard an oldish man say, followed by murmurs of agreement, “these strikes are out of hand, demanding we pay more, absurd notions.” The man is none other than Mr. Birling, a notoriously cold hearted man, much like dacianas father apparently, both of whom value money rather than people. Even their own families. The group of men who looked the same as him, slightly wrinkled face, greyish hair, miserable faces with hints of conniving schemes being plotted against each other. Friends until one of them was earning more money and was more successful, then they were enemies again.

The men were in a heated discussion about their business and from what I can dissect from their ramblings is that they fully believe themselves to be hard working men, a rarity these days, and they must do what is necessary for their companies. Meaning, budget cuts, strikes from workers, firing people, and any horrible decision in the name of money. I refrain from rolling my eyes, or going over to berate them.

“Mr. Birling would not know what a hard day's work is.” someone says quietly behind me. His voice is smooth, confident, and whilst I agree due to what I have learnt about the birling family and the conversation I had just overheard, I still wouldn't say it aloud with him being this close. Not that he pays any attention to anyone but ‘hard working men’.

I turn my head slightly, the man behind me is tall, a smirk playing at his lips. His suit is finely tailored in a dark grey, with a peach tie. He takes a step forwards and stands at my side, staring out into the crowd, a glass of half drunk champagne in his hand. I return my gaze to the crowd. “Whatever makes you think that, surely you heard him talk about how much he works,” I try to suppress my own smirk and I also sneak a glance at the strange man. He merely takes a sip of his champagne.

“Right of course, his words, I shall listen more closely next time.”

“As you should. You wouldn't want to misinterpret someone's work ethic and make a fool of yourself in front of a stranger.”

“You consider me a fool now?” he turns to me now, hands pressed against his chest in fake offence. His brown eyes meet mine as I face him. His sharp cheekbones feel familiar, but I can't place where from.

“Yes. how could you consider someone such as Mr Birling, a man with such talent and tolerance of others, a man who clearly built his company and was not handed it by his father, how could you with a straight face imply he doesn’t know hard work.” we stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. He has such a pure laugh, we seem to be the only sound in the room. People around us stop and stare, upset two people are having fun at a party. The stranger leans against one of the columns, disrupting the vines slightly. Yet he doesn't seem to care, as he slowly starts to regain his composure from our outburst.

Mr. Birling is one of the men looking at us with full disdain. He perceives us as two kids who do not understand life, he specifically tells his accountant that there is something wrong with us if the rumours are to be believed. Children of science. Outrageous. Especially a girl. A girl, not a woman. I ignore his pathetic whining, intent on not letting him ruin my night and return my focus to the stranger. Who, I realise, is someone who enjoys science. His face is more solemn now, having also overheard Mr.Birling. He quickly recovers and plasters a smirk on his face, a spark shines in his eye and I can already tell this won't be good.

“I want to meet this ‘girl’ who led the strike, perhaps she could use some help. I mean, all they ask is fair pay,”

“But fair pay is absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. Why should the wealthy share their wealth to those who ensure it.” he finishes for me. The men that run this world will end up being the reason it fails. We share a look, full of understanding and he lets out a sigh. Now we're talking about work and politics at a party.

“Aside from those charming men, how are you enjoying the party?” He gestures to the men around us and I snort. Charming was one word for them. Being with him and trading remarks felt like passing notes to each other, telling secrets during class even though we are meant to be listening to the teacher. I can't help but think I know him, and by the look in his own face he knows me. Perhaps we met but didn't have time for a full conversation like we are now.

“Mostly entertaining, the place is spectacular as always, the people are..” I searched for a word to describe the people, as well as my family. I love them dearly but they can be insufferable. “An interesting mix. My family is dramatic, so I escaped to the edge to peace and quiet, which apparently isn't possible. "I give him a pointed look but he takes no notice.

“My family is also dramatic, and I came for peace myself but found myself captivated by you, specifically how you watched the crowd, listening, and how you curled your fists in an attempt not to go and publicly humiliate the poor man. Which, by the way, I think you should've. Would've made the whole thing worth it.” He takes a sip of his champagne and I nearly roll my eyes at him. Of course he'd want that. From what I can tell he isn't someone who enjoys society and has no problem saying it. I also think about the families in attendance and which of those are dramatic. The only person I can think of is Darci's brother, whom I've not met but heard about his nature over wine with her.

“If I was merely standing here minding my business would you still have found me captivating enough to talk to me? Or is my appeal in my anger?”

He downs the rest of the drink and straightens himself taking a step towards me. I cross my arms, impatient but he gives me a soft smile. “I've been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, I always see you here at the edge, always. My eyes find you instantly in any crowd. Transfixed, captivating. It was an added bonus to me when I saw the fierce nature in your eyes up close, I knew I was right to want to befriend you.”

Silence falls as we both take in his words. I feel bad, not being able to figure out who he is. His honesty is admirable and makes me smile, as well as blush. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks. Just as I begin to rectify the situation by asking for his name, a man comes behind

me, he’s around 40 probably, and looks at me horrendously in an attempt at a smile. I recognised him from earlier, he's one of the men that spoke with Mr Birling and that alone makes me instantly want to recoil.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked and I can hear my own clipped words, yet somehow he does not. The smile widens and he looks me up and down. Then he offers his hand to me and I realise he wants to dance. With a woman half his age, that he has never met.

“Miss Wadsworth, dance with me?” more of a common than a question. Since I am already highly aware he doesn’t like when females have opinions or say no, I refrain from rolling my eyes and just walking off from him. Instead I take a step back, so I'm by my new friend’s side and smile widely.

“I'm afraid I already promised the darling Wadsworth a dance, we are just finishing our drinks first.” As if to prove my point he drinks the last of his drink, mostly to hide his smirk. Something else the man doesn't seem to notice. His face drops, but his pride makes him believe he can stand there, waiting for me to run to him. There is an awkward silence until I feel hands reach down and take mine, they are warm and make me jump slightly at the contact. Not in a bad way, not in the way I would have if it had been the man in front of me with his gaze like fire as he looks at our joined hands as though he has a right to be mad about it. I feel my own fire burn as he stares, so I tug his hand away from the man. I need to just escape into the dreamlike nature of the dancefloor, as well as thank my saviour and learn his name.

He leads me to the dance floor, nearer the edge and his hands slip down to my waist as I find his shoulders. His touch is hesitant but reassuring. Somehow he looks calm and terrified, as though he never expected to dance with me but never wants to stop. I can't help but feel the same as we begin to move. My skirt swirls around us and we say nothing for a while as we both calm ourselves and let the music envelope us. In a way, this is as close to my daydreaming as I might ever get. Being here on the dance floor with someone who isn't twice my age and the definition of misogyny. We dance as equals, neither of us truly leading but letting each other float around each other. We're sure of our movements and demand nothing from each other. It is a weird calmness that settles. We are strangers as far as i know, and yet we dance as though we have known each other our entire lives.

“You are a delight, miss Wadsworth.” he breaks the silence, somehow louder than the music for me, yet it's quiet. Almost like he didn't mean to say it aloud.

“How do you know me?” my voice matches and i feel bad asking, but i need to know. My tone is not accusing, and his face only burrows in confusion for a second before he smirks at me. A smirk I'm seeming to become familiar with.

“My sister Dacina speaks highly of you.” my eyes must expand as he laughs softly. That's why I recognized him. He has the same structure as Dacina, sharp cheekbone and soft skin. Perfect complexion.

“So you are the infamous Thomas cresswell?” this time I smirk and his eyes widen.

“Infamous? What on earth have you heard of me?”

“Your sister has lots of opinions on you.”

“Of course she does. Whatever she has said is most likely not true.” He blurts out and I laugh at his relationship with his sister and him wanting to impress me. “Unless she told you I am utterly irresistible, charming, quick witted and incredibly smart.” winking at me he sends me into a surprising spin and my hands land on his chest. We've sped up slightly, yet our heartbeats are both faster than necessary and I can see a hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“She did mention you have an overly large ego. She'll be happy to know I agree with her.” I feel his hands tighten at my waist slightly and I watch his curls fall down in his face as he shakes his head. I'm delighted by this turn of events. Daci is wonderful, and if this is the Thomas that I get to see, not his reputation, then I shall try and keep this in my life for as long as possible. His spark in his eyes shows how he may think the same. Also, if daci, liza and ileana are with Thomas, then i might have the most fun I've ever had in my life.

His voice slides through my thoughts, but also reinforces them. “I am sure she failed to mention how big of an ego she has. Honestly, Darci is worse than I. Have you met Illeana? She will surely agree with me on this.”

“I'm sure she would, I've also heard you are a scientist, what do you study?”

“The dead. Much like you and your uncle.” There is so much certainty in his voice, no resentment or the usual tone I hear so I gift him an earnest smile.

The song ends, and we stand, hands still on each other for a second longer than we should. Just as I go to remove my hands from his chest I feel him pinch my sides lightly. Then his warm hands slip from my waist and I wish more than anything to dance again.

We go to return back to the column near the buffet, where we first spoke, and as I take a step I feel him move so he's pressed at my back, his hands finding mine. Even though we are gloved, even though no one can see our hands due to how close we are, and how many people are moving about, my heart pounds at his bold nature. I adore it, so I squeeze him and keep my head facing forward as I lead him off the dance floor. We settle back, Thomas letting go of my hand to pick up two glasses of champagne and hands me one. We both take a long sip, perhaps settling our brains or making it worse. Well see.

“You look,” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, brows furrowed slightly as if he was reading a dictionary, “enchanting.” he finally finishes, gifting me a rare smile it seems. No longer does he smirk at me, but shows me a genuine look that I want to have painted as it is the best thing I have witnessed. Heat rises to my cheeks as I look down at my dress. Someone at least understood what I was going for, with a pale peach colour, sparkling bodice that runs along the length of the skirt. The long sleeves adorned with tiny gemstones, golden to match the accented colours of the hall. In response to Thomas I look back up at him with my own genuine smile, perhaps some of the only true smiles to be shared this evening. His suit fits him perfectly, showing off his defined features, his tie a pale peach as well. I assume Dacina helps him, as her dresses always astound me with the details. There are tiny, miniscule gems on his tie, that snake down and remind me of vines.

“You look,” I act the way he did, scanning my brain for something that fits, handsome or charming doesn't do justice but I'm sure whatever I use will only boost his ego and be used against me, so I settle with: “bedazzling.”

“Bedazzling?”

“Thomas, I study the dead, I have to look closer than one should at things, so of course I noticed your tie. Henceforth: bedazzling.” The air shifts back to our teasing tone and he smirks once again.

“You are the only one to notice, except Daci of course, nothing gets past her. Am I correct in assuming you like the tie?” Despite his teasing I feel a hint of worry as if I wouldn’t like his tie.

“I adore the tie cresswell, everyone here should be weaning ties with tiny jewels.”

His face falls as he scans the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the groups of men. “I cannot tell if you are being serious with me or not, but I agree nonetheless. The men here are awfully drab, boring, plain. It's insulting to us really. Daci puts so much time into making this beautiful and these people do not see it.” He is shaking his head. I agree, I have heard how much work goes in and despite my effort to help she insists that I do nothing but enjoy the party. I have a sneaking suspicion though that Liza helps. The flower centrepieces are her favourite, and whilst that might be a coincidence I know how stubborn and convincing she can be.

“I do. I love her parties. I always find myself standing here, watching and noticing all the changes from the month prior. Like, last month she went for more of a red theme, with red roses as the centrepieces, little red accented chairs and carpets. Whereas this month is more of a forestry vine, hence the vines around the column.” I point as though they are a secret thing you need to search for even though they are obvious. Yet he turns anyway and runs his finger down the length of it with his adorable face set at a soft smile. Thomas might have been there when she got the idea, or placed them or he might have placed them himself and is now remembering it.

My gaze finds Thomas and he looks at me, baffled, and I feel the blush creeping back up. It is not the same confused look that I get when I tell people my love of science, but one of intrigue. As if he could listen to me talk forever and not get bored. It's as if he has never thought anyone would notice such things about his family's party. “Enchanting.” is all he whispers to me. Then he clears his throat, an ever so soft shake of his head as though once again the words were meant for him and not us both.

I stare out at the crowd again. I'm sure my family will want to know where I've disappeared to, I normally do not leave them this long. Liza I'm sure will want to know why I danced with Thomas. Yet the thought of leaving him makes my legs leaden and my heart sink and anchor me right next to him. Im completely wonderstruck, and feel ill have a permanent blush, especially when i look at his stupidly handsome face, his quick smirk and small smiles that feel special. It is odd, I've only heard stories, spoken to him briefly and danced, yet I have enjoyed his company immensely and hope this never ends. I want more dances and to steal more smiles to keep forever. I want to make fun of people together, and dance.

I go to steal a glimpse of him, expecting to find him staring at the crowd like I was but his eyes are on me. “I have to leave,” his abrupt words anchor me in an entirely different way, “I mean, I want to stay and I'm sure you want my amazing presence always now Wadsworth but I have to wake early. New job. So, my darling, I shall see you tomorrow.” Thomas hesitates for half a second and begins to walk away. I watch him go and say goodnight to his sister and then leave. His words fill my head. It’s reassuring to know he enjoys my company as much as I do.

I bolt upright in my bed, the lights, music and memories falling away as I focus on the last words he said to me.

I'll see you tomorrow.

What does tomorrow mean? Does it mean he has a job where he thinks I visit? Will he be making an effort to befriend me? Does he know my family? I am so confused. How had I not caught these words sooner? Perhaps he wants to tell me he had a terrible time, that he doesn't like my presence. I'm on my feet without realising, pacing back and forth, the cold air hugging me close. I wish he was in front of me now. I wish he would whisper the words enchanting again. I wish I knew what was happening in a few hours that warranted him saying those four words. I run my hands over my face, untie my hair and let my curls fall over my shoulder, brushing away the colder ever so slightly. I'm ridiculous. Four tiny words sent me spiralling. I climb back into bed, my hair fanning out around me and the blanket returning warmth back into my system. Immediately my mind returns to Thomas, his face forever in my mind. Even if tomorrow could be the last time I see him, there is a chance that it is just the start.

Enchanting…

Those words fill me with confidence that yes, Thomas might become someone special to me. That perhaps our dance sparked something and now all I wish is that I can tell him how enchanting he is.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cresswell #thomas and audrey rose #Thomas Cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #kerri maniscalco #enchanted #taylor swift #stalking jack the ripper #Hunting Prince Dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil

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no--envies · 3 years

Text

Nightless City – An analysis of Wei Wuxian’s accountability

I’ve come across several takes about the bloodbath of Nightless City that don’t really sit well with me. Some people say Wei Wuxian is totally to blame, others that he’s totally blameless, and I personally disagree with both. I think that, like in many other events in the novel, what really happened is more complex.

(All the translations are by Exiled Rebels Scanlations)

First of all, the text shows us that Wei Wuxian wasn’t completely clear-headed even before going to Nightless City, which is normal considering what he was going through. His whole world had crumbled in just a few hours. Everything he’d done until that moment – the sacrifices he had made for what he believed was right – appeared to be for nothing. He ended up hurting the people most dear to him, and he couldn’t even protect those he had wanted to protect. When he could move again after the three days he spent in the cave immobilized by Wen Qing’s needle, for a while he didn’t even know what to do or where to go.

After he got down the mountain, he stood amid the bushes, catching his breath. Bent down, he propped his hands against his knees for a long while before he stood up straight again. Yet, looking at the wild grasses that covered many of the mountain paths, he didn’t know where to go.

Burial Mound—he’d just gone down from there.

Lotus Pier—he hadn’t been back in over a year.

Koi Tower? Three days had passed already. If he went now, it was likely that Wen Qing’s corpse and Wen Ning’s ashes were the only things left.

He stood blankly. Suddenly, he felt that the world had no place for him, despite how large it was. He didn’t know what to do either.

(Chapter 77)

It’s rare to see Wei Wuxian so utterly lost and miserable. What happened was too much for even someone like him – who always tends to look at the bright side of any situation – to be able to deal with it. Since he doesn’t know where else to go, he decides to go to Koi Tower to retrieve the Wen siblings’ ashes, but he doesn’t manage to do anything before he’s discovered and forced to flee. He wanders without purpose for a long time until he arrives at a city gate where he hears a group of cultivators talking about him with contempt, which triggers his anger.

The longer Wei WuXian listened, the colder his expression grew.

He should’ve understood long ago. No matter what he did, not a single good word would come out of these people’s mouths. When he won, others feared; when he lost, others rejoiced.

He was cultivating the crooked path either way, so what exactly did the years of persistence mean? What exactly were they for?

However, the colder his eyes were, the brighter the raging fire within his heart burned.

(Chapter 77)

We see him come to a very bitter realization: no matter his noble intentions and moral integrity, everyone has already made up their mind about him, he would be made into a villain no matter what he does. Before what happened at Qiongqi Path he had managed to keep a positive mindset, since he was doing fine in the Burial Mounds with the Wen remnants. It wasn’t an easy life, but they were safe, they didn’t starve and Wei Wuxian was free to focus on his research and inventions in peace, creating the Compass of Evil and the Spirit-Attraction Flag. He missed his family, but he also found another one. He had people who loved him and valued him, and whom he loved and valued in turn. All in all, he was content. He thought that as long as he didn’t actively seek trouble, the world would leave him alone. But he was wrong. Jin Zixun ambushed him accusing him of something he didn’t do, and everything spiraled down so quickly he couldn’t do anything to prevent it, until he lost control of his demonic cultivation and killed Jin Zixuan.

In this moment, Wei Wuxian feels completely alone. The Wen siblings are gone, his beloved shijie might hate him for killing her husband and the cultivation world as a whole can’t wait to besiege him. If it had been another time, he wouldn’t have beaten up those random cultivators. It’s not like it was the first time he heard awful rumors about himself. The fact that he reacts so violently here says a lot about the state of mind he’s in. Wei Wuxian is clearly looking for a way to vent his anger, so he takes it out on the cultivators who are speaking ill of him. His rage is justified: not only were they saying malicious things about him without even knowing the full story, but they were doing it cowardly behind his back. However, his reaction is somewhat disproportionate to their offense: one of them gets kicked in the face until he passes out from the pain, while another gets his legs broken for daring to speak up. Although he doesn’t kill them, he does terrorize them and in the end he leaves them there immobilized by the spirits he had summoned (if Lan Wangji hadn’t been looking for Wei Wuxian, who knows how long they would have had to wait to be freed).

After this, Wei Wuxian sees the announcement of the pledge conference and goes to Nightless City. I’ve seen people argue that he was only trying to protect the Wen remnants and that the people who were there had already pledged to kill him, so it was self-defense. But is it really the case? Personally, I don’t think what he did was self-defense. Sure, he tried to discuss first and didn’t attack until he was attacked, but defending himself and the Wen remnants wasn’t the main reason he was there in the first place.

The crowd flung curses at him, but Wei WuXian accepted all of them.

Anger was the only thing that could suppress the other feelings within his heart.

(Chapter 78)

All of his pain, desperation and guilt were too much to handle at once, so he tried to suppress them all with anger, and directed that anger at the people who hated him. Wei Wuxian didn’t go to the pledge conference to try to prevent the siege from happening (since he thought it wouldn’t change anything anyway) or to weaken the Sects’ forces. He went there to vent his anger and frustration. Wei Wuxian is not clear-headed here, as highlighted by this passage:

Wei WuXian spun around to dodge the attack and laughed, “Fine, fine. I knew since the start that we’d have to fight a real fight like this one sooner or later. You’ve always found me disagreeable no matter what. Come on!”

Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s movements paused, “Wei Ying!”

Although he shouted the words, any sane person would be able to tell that Lan WangJi’s voice was clearly shaking. However, right now, Wei WuXian had already lost his judgement. He was already half-mad, half-unconscious. All evil was being augmented by him. He felt that everyone loathed him and he loathed everyone as well. He wouldn’t be scared no matter who came at him. It wouldn’t matter no matter who came at him. It was all the same anyway.

(Chapter 78)

In this moment Wei Wuxian believes everyone hates him and there’s no use trying to convince them otherwise – there’s no use trying to reason with them in a diplomatic way because no matter what he says or does, his words will be twisted to fit the opinions of the crowd. He almost welcomes the attack because this way he can attack them back and vent all his pent-up anger. Wei Wuxian is not behaving like his usual self here. He can’t see Lan Wangji isn’t trying to hurt him because his mind is not lucid. This is why he loses control of his demonic cultivation for the second time, injuring Jiang Yanli.

His shijie is the only one who manages to calm him down a little despite his chaotic state of mind. He manages to stop the corpses from attacking everyone and waits for her to tell him what she thinks of him, if she forgives him or not. However, she dies to save his life before being able to say anything, and the whole situation becomes simply too much for him to bear. All of his emotions crush him at once, so in his already half-unconscious state he activates the Tiger Seal, effectively erasing any chance he might have had to redeem himself in the eyes of society.

The point of this analysis isn’t to blame or absolve Wei Wuxian. It’s very easy to empathize with his anguish in these scenes. What he was going through was incredibly stressful and the root cause (the ambush at Qiongqi Path) wasn’t his fault. Even Lan Wangji says he can neither condemn nor justify his actions, but he’s willing to face all the consequences with him anyway.

I told [Wangji] when I went to see him, Young Master Wei had already made a grave mistake, there was no use augmenting it. But he said… that he could not say with certainty whether what you did was right or wrong, but no matter what, he was willing to be responsible for all of the consequences alongside you.

(Chapter 99)

Wei Wuxian isn’t blameless for what happened at Nightless City. I don’t think he’s proud of what he did and all the people he killed, either. The fact that he destroyed the Tiger Seal after returning to the Burial Mounds is quite telling. He definitely didn’t act in the most rational and clear-headed way, which resulted in a lot of people – including his shijie – to lose their lives, but the point of all this is that Wei Wuxian is human. He makes mistakes because no one is infallible, no matter how heroic, selfless and virtuous. Not even he can be totally immune to all the criticism and accusasions, even though he often acts like he is. Wei Wuxian is a fundamentally positive person, so most of the time he can ignore the bad things that happen to him and focus on the good, but this time his situation was simply too extreme for anyone to be able to stand it.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #wei ying #mdzs meta #nightless city

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aurabird · 3 years

Text

To Seek Redemption

So this is based off of something my braincell that desires fluff came up with.

Something happens that causes the Hels!Hermits to become helpful, caring, and empathetic like their counterparts. No more hierarchy and anarchy, no more bloodshed and violence, just pure, familial energy and fluff. Basically, they all obtain morals and eventually the line between Hermit and Helsmit is no more.

This relies strongly on headcannons and things regarding Helsmit/Hermit first encounters are left vague on purpose for the reader to fill in because I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes :3

No major TWs, just mentions of violence, blood, and injuries.

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The Hels Dimension was a brutal place, an eternal battleground where anarchy was the norm and the hierarchy brutal. The denizens of this dimension said to be the worst traits of their Overworld counterparts incarnated or their best traits without any moral boundaries.

Those that lived within Hermitcraft’s Hels Dimension; Helscraft as they’d become to be called, referred to themselves as Helsmits as they sought to not only overpower each other, but also make the lives of their other halves miserable.

Of course, not every Helsmit was a monster, some were simply pranksters, simply finding enjoyment in teasing their counterparts because the reactions amused them; nuisances that just wouldn’t go away.

But, despite all of this, how would players such as the Helsmits react…when everything they knew, all the violence they partook in, just went away? Was replaced by feelings they didn’t understand or hated?

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The time-dilation known as lag was not a new concept to the denizens of Helscraft; after all, several of them used the enigmatic force as a weapon or safeguard for their territory, slowing down any would-be usurpers enough to gain an upper hand.

What WAS new, however, was that this time, lag stopped their world completely. No one moved, no one spoke; for only a few moments all was still…

…until it wasn’t.

When the world began to move again the Helsmits knew something had changed, feelings of vengeance and hatred were gone, replaced by emotions they did not understand; that some of them even despised. Empathy, compassion, the desire for familial companionship.

Those locked in combat sheathed their weapons, taking steps back from each other before apologizing. Those that kept themselves locked in impenetrable fortresses left their isolation and sought out the Helsmit nearest to them to simply talk and for comfort due to their isolation. Those that had gotten the last of their territory stolen from them had it returned.

And those that sought power within the hierarchy? Well, who said that having friends didn’t count as power?

Traps set up to kill and torment were disabled, and selfishly-hoarded resources distributed to those with few or none.

It was difficult at first to come to grasps with the sudden morals and emotions they'd acquired, for some, the phrase of “I hate being nice” became popular, being uttered by several of them defeatedly when they attempted to be anything but friendly to each other.

But eventually the Helsmits grew used to their new emotions, enjoyed them even. Sure they were all still competitive with each other, that was a trait no strange force could change, but now it was more friendly and lighthearted. Some even tried to act like the 'evil counterparts' they'd once been in a joking manner.

The Hesmits knew that things had changed, that their old ways of life were now gone.

They'd all gathered at their Town Hall, the first building they'd made since they'd all become friends, looking upon a portal with nervousness and uncertainty. Not a portal to the Nether, nor a portal to the End. No, this portal was to the Overworld.

It'd been Helskinght that discovered how to conjure the gateway, the purple swirls framed by blocks of crying obsidian. At one point this structure had been fought over and the land around it once stained crimson with Helsmit blood.

The area had been completely terraformed since then, making this location both a reminder of the past and the present. None of them had their weapons or tools, just the clothes on their backs, food, and basic building blocks. After all, they'd come here for one reason alone.

Now that they’d mended the conflicts that had once divided them, perhaps it was time to do the same with those that saw them as nothing but evil interlopers seeking to cause only destruction and misery.

Yes, it was time to ask their overworld counterparts, the Hermits, for forgiveness. The final step they'd all need to reach complete redemption.

"You think they'll accept it after everything some of us have done?" asked someone from the gathered crowd, "We've been silent for so long too, how do you think they'll react to us all coming at the same time?"

The two questions had no definite answers, as only a few Helsmits had even interacted with their overworld counterparts. Then again, those that had awful experiences no doubt spread the seeds of distrust throughout the entirety of Hermitcraft.

A Helsmit in ebony-plated armor and wearing a helmet sighed. Since the reforming of their society Helsuma had been the appointed the Admin of Helscraft, though unlike his counterpart, he lacked the powers that came with said title.

"There is only one way to find out." he said with uncertain confidence before taking his first steps through the passage, his fellow Helsmits following not far behind.

------

Their arrival on the main street of the Cowmercial District was met with mixed reactions. Fear, disdain, and confusion the most common but surprise could also be seen on the faces of some Hermits.

Those that knew their Helscraft counterparts had drawn their swords and bows, netherite blades and enchanted arrows aimed directly at them, ready to strike at the slightest sign of aggression.

It was Xisuma that broke the silent tension, his calm, accented voice holding the strength of a leader as he addressed the crowd before him. “Well, this is definitely a surprise.” he said as he took a few steps forward, taking note of the fact some of the newcomers flinched or tensed up at his advance. “I didn’t expect all of you to show up at once, let alone completely unarmed.”

The person who then walked out from the crowd of Helsmits was a surprise to the overworld Admin. Every Hermit supposedly had a counterpart of their own in Helscraft, but X hadn’t exactly been ready to meet his.

Features and attire were identical to his own, though their skin was marred with horrible scars and their black-plated armor boasted several gashes; fiery-orange eyes far more exhausted than his own violet ones shone with desperation.

“Careful, X.” Wels warned with a growl, cerulean gaze narrowed and locked with the red one of Helsknight, “They aren’t to be trusted.”

If the silver-armored knight had seen the hurt in Hels’ expression at those words, he didn’t react to it.

X ignored the given warning and faced his counterpart without fear or hesitation, “What brings you all to the Overworld like this? Clearly it isn’t an invasion.”

Helsuma spoke, his voice simply a deeper, more rough version of X’s. “We…we all…we all wish to ask forgiveness.” he struggled to say before looking behind him at his fellow Helsmits, “Those of us that you know the actions of more than others.”

“Why the change of heart?” came a Hermit’s confused but sharp tone as they gazed upon one that looked almost exactly like they did, no doubt remembering bitterly what their first meeting with their counterpart was like.

“Honestly, we have no idea.” came a voice from the Helsmits, “Everything just…stopped one day, like lag but for longer than a few seconds. After that, well, some of us noticed that we felt emotions alien to us, urges to be…friends, not enemies or rivals; to share and not take.”

“You learned what morals are? I find that hard to believe.”

At the comment Hels turned his head to Wels, arms crossed “Whether you believe it or not, if we sought to invade the overworld for malicious goals today, we would have done so already.”

Grian, surprisingly, was the one that came to the dark knight’s defense “You know, Wels, not all of them are incarnations of our evil.” he commented from his place on steps to the Town Hall. “Take Xelqua, my counterpart for example.“ he began, motioning to the Helsmit that was a splitting image of him save a pair of purple wings that sparkled with stars; the cloak around them bearing a strange symbol, “He’s the one that was mixing up the stuff in your guy’s sorting systems and renaming all your diamonds!”

Mumbo shot the man a look, “Seriously mate? You interacted on a friendly level with your counterpart as opposed to some of us and didn’t think to tell anyone of it?”

“Uh...no. Kinda slipped my mind actually.”

Scar spoke next, having spotted BadTimes in the center of the group; the skeletal vex wings protruding from their back a sign of the part of himself he’d cast away when he decided to reject the control of the chaotic fae he’d once been bound to. “Well, I for one believe in second chances.” he said with a grin, noticing the eyes of several Helsmits light up, “Sure it may take time for us to all trust each other but if they are counterparts of us and we’re Hermits, what’s to say they can’t be too?”

“Scar is right!” chimed Zedaph, “Look at Exy! He was all scary and stuff and he ended up being nice in the end!”

The streets were silent once more as Hermit and Helsmit alike looked at Xisuma, awaiting the verdict of the situation. The Admin thought hard about the dilemma he was faced with. His fellow Hermits all made good points and, when given proof, X was one to forgive.

He saw the looks in the eyes of their counterparts; fear, desperation, hope. He’d made the mistake of condemning his brother to the banvoid, and though they’d made up since then, it didn’t change the fact that he’d left Ex alone, abandoned, and scared when all the man had needed was guidance.

No, he could not simply turn them away, he couldn’t send them back to their dimension and find a way to seal them in there forever.

“I do not speak for all the Hermits, especially given the history some of you have with them.” he began, “However, I am willing to give you all a chance. Do not make me regret my decision.”

------

The rules Xisuma had applied to them were simple and the Admin had made it perfectly clear that they’d all be watched closely, both by him and the Hermits they interacted with.

For some, it was easy to befriend their counterparts, alike in many ways, yet still different enough to be their own person. Others had a more difficult time, uneasy truces and silent tension sparking between them.

But, time heals all wounds, and the line that separated Hermits and Helsmits eventually disappeared. Denizens of both the Overworld and Helscraft began to come and go between their realms freely, taking ideas and inspirations from each other, playing minigames as if they’d all been friends from the beginning.

Getting to the End was impossible from Helscraft, so the Helsmits had always secretly been baffled by the silvery wings that allowed their counterparts to fly around. With the befriending of each other, however, they were being taught through trial and error (mostly error, actually) how they worked and the freedom that came with Elytra flight.

It wasn’t uncommon now for the trio of team ZIT to be seen planning crazy ideas with their counterparts and teasing each other, unsurprisingly both Grian and Xelqua managed to start yet another war, and the silent chaos of shenanigans from Etho and his counterpart were never discovered until it was too late.

False and True could often be seen sparring, as could Wels and Hels; though the duo of knights usually did so through both physical combat and song.

Scar and Cub would be seen working on projects with their counterparts, laughing and remembering the times when they were once one in the same, but yet still glad to be their own individual players.

Bdubs and his phantom-featured counterpart would sometimes argue over who was the fastest of them to get to sleep ("And how are you faster? Last I checked beds blow up in Hels ya stupid!" "Not since X gave Helsuma Admin powers they haven't ya fool!"), though neither of them would win because someone else would sleep away the night while they bickered.

Ex had even returned from his journey of self-discovery, completely confused at first and then began pouting when he learned that he didn’t have a Helscraft counterpart of his own to cause mischief with. With a laugh, Helsuma had offered to be the counterpart of both brothers.

------

It was several months later when the two Admins stood on the roofs of their Town Halls, smiles on their faces as they overlooked the antics below them; Hermits and Helsmits alike interacting harmoniously. With the union of their respectful dimensions their families had doubled in size.

And both of them couldn’t have been any happier.

#hermitcraft au #helscraft #hels!hermits #evil hermits #fluff and angst #the helsmits are a chaotic family your honor #I'm a sucker for redeption arcs #Grian's counterpart is a gremlin like him #but has all the Watcher traits and regalia #Ex isn't from Helscraft either #he's a copy of X's code that got created by acident #he also wasn't permabanned in S6 #him and X made up and he went on a journey of self discovery #cub & scar's counterparts are parts of their souls that they split from when they decided to reject using Vex magic #like I said at the start this relies heavilly on headcannons #my writing #hermitblr

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

SAVE ME | KTH (02)

summary: You were determined to kill yourself, but instead of ending your life, you ended up summoning the devil of death.

Alternatively:

The Devil: I’m here to ruin you, I’m here to save you.

genre & content warnings: demon au, e2l, angst, fluff, roommate au, oc wants to die, invalidating feelings of others, drug overdose, physical violence, and mention of character’s death (minor)

pairing: devil!taehyung x doctor!reader

word count: 2.6k

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"I'm the devil and I'm here to save you."

It seemed like the world stopped spinning the moment you heard those words. You were deeply rooted in the place where you're standing and suddenly, you couldn't speak. You tried parting your lips, unluckily no word came out.

The stranger who claimed to be the 'devil' furrowed his brow that caused you to momentarily shut your eyes—hoping that once you opened it again, this stranger's reflection would go away.

It didn't.

The man was still standing behind you. An evil grin was actually plastered on his face while twirling the handle of the black scissors in his pointer finger.

This devil was pretending to keep his cool, but in reality, he's pissed off. Well for starters, he did not want to be here. He's literally just chilling in the deepest part of hell when you called him.

What the hell does she need from me anyway? The devil mused.

He thought that his question would be answered the moment you turned to face him. Unfortunately, you only looked at him hoping that your mind was just playing tricks on you—that you were actually the only living creature here.

Did you overdose with antidepressant pills again?

"Fuck off!" You scolded yourself thinking that the things you were seeing weren't real. This was simply one of the effects of taking too much pills.

Tears painted your cheeks as you covered your face. You were just hallucinating, right? If not, then why would a fucking devil appear in your already pathetic life?

Demons did not exist. They're just an illusion created by people so they could blame someone or something as to why their lives were miserable.

You took a deep breath as you talked to yourself: 'Demons don't exist. Stay calm. You're doing great.'

'Focus on your breathing, sweetie. I'm here for you.' You even played your mom's usual reminder inside your head. 'She's here with me. I'm okay. I will be okay...' You continued to distract yourself.

Minutes passed. When your heart started beating at a normal place, you then placed your trembling hands on your chest. Your labored breathing turned steady. This meant that the devil was gone now, right?

"You done meditating, dollface?"

You choked on your own spit when you saw the stranger casually sitting on the couch. His tails was still wagging while grinning from ear to ear.

"Just fuck off!"

The devil lazily rolled his eyes when he realized that anger was taking over you again. You were hysterical. You're throwing everything your hand touched at the stranger.

"Fuck off! Fuck off! Leave me fucking alone!" You shrieked.

The lampshade was heavy in your arms so you threw it at once. Sadly the devil was agile. One moment he's dodging your throws and now he's stopping you from breaking more stuff.

The devil had enough of your bullshit.

He pinned you to the floor length mirror, causing the glass to shatter. Its pieces pierced through your body.

You yelped in pain.

The devil let out an exasperated sigh.

"Listen here, Barbie." He rolled his eyes while emphasizing the 'ie' in the word Barbie. He also stared deep into your eyes.

You could only watch as his lips danced.

"As much as I want to leave your Barbie world and ignore your plastic life, I can't." You could feel his hot breath on your cheek. It made you shiver. "You are the one who summoned me. Therefore, I'm stuck with you."

His statement made you huff. You didn't like the tone this devil just used. You were crankier than usual and it’s probably because you had taken a lot of pills today.

It's like you weren't scared of him anymore because really, who did he think he was to insult you?

"Did you just call me a Barbie?" You usually took this as a compliment, howbeit his voice sounded so cynical that you could practically taste the insult in your mouth.

"Hmm. Let me see," the devil pretended to think. He moved a few inches away from you just so he could eye you from head to toe. His gaze was so sultry that your fight-or-flight response was to cover your chest and gasp.

He only chuckled at your reaction before proceeding to tell you his stupid reasons.

"You're living in a grand apartment, you have hundreds of shoes and expensive clothes too," his eyes roamed around your big room while snorting. He was suddenly reminded of those people who tried to kill themselves because they didn't have enough money to provide for themselves and for their families. It's funny that you're just taking for granted the things other people would kill just to have.

You were really the classic bimbo Barbie.

"You literally have everything, yet you're still acting like life is so hard!" He imitated a high pitched voice of a woman while rolling his eyes.

"How dare you!" You couldn't take his insults anymore as you were already stepping on his ridiculously long tail.

He had no right to accuse you of being ungrateful when he knew nothing about the hell you had been going through.

It was unfair.

You stomped your feet on his tail one more time before running away, leaving him crying in pain.

Your heartbeat doubled as you stepped out of your abode. Running mindlessly brought you to the parking lot. At times like this, you couldn't help but give yourself some credit for always putting your car keys inside the pocket of your jeans.

You drove away from your apartment building.

You could still feel your heart thumping loud as you stepped on the gas. You needed to get away before you lost your mind.

You thought you already got away with the stranger who claimed to be the devil, but then you suddenly felt a strong pang of pain in your chest. It also felt like someone's punching your lungs because you could hardly breathe.

"No!"

Profanities escaped your mouth when you almost hit a group of pedestrian crossing the street. You wanted to stop to ask if they’re okay; however, you couldn't seem to stop driving.

What the hell was happening!?

"Careful, Barbie. You might kill someone..."

"I said leave me alone!" You stepped on the gas harder because using your peripheral vision, you saw the devil casually slouching on the passenger seat.

Your tears fell as the devil's wicked laugh erupted. He's about to lean closer, but you're quick enough to stop the car, throwing him back on his seat.

You hastily went out of your mini cooper and then you ran inside the hospital where you worked. There were a lot of people in this place. You were sure the devil couldn't get to you while you were here.

Or so you thought.

"Hey, what are you doing here—wait! Are you okay?"

Huh. If it wasn't your luck. Out of all the people you're going to run into while running away from the devil, why did it have to be another devil?

"Dr. Bae..." You said breathlessly.

Bae Joo-hyun only winced as a response to your lame greeting. You could actually see the disgusted look she's sporting as she eyed you from head toe. The scowl on her face deepened upon seeing your bare feet. Joo-hyun always hated the way you dressed because she could never beat your style.

However, it looked like today was her lucky day. Her scowl turned into a smirk when she noticed your outfit of the day: black jeans and plain top. You didn't apply any makeup. You were one hundred percent sure that the bags under your eyes were visible.

Acid dripped into your stomach, sadly you didn't have any choice but to pretend like you were not affected by Joo-hyun's judgmental stare.

"How are you?" You flashed a smile at you enemy. It's the kind of smile that hid your real emotions. No one would have guessed that you just spent the past hour of this gloomy afternoon from trying to kill yourself to summoning the devil and now, just casually saying hello to your nemesis.

Seriously. What's up with your life?

"I should be the one asking you that," Joo-Hyun quirked her brow, feigning sympathy.

"Are you okay? I've heard that Cha Areum passed away because of you. I mean—" She paused mid-sentence just to laugh. It was the type of laugh that said 'Oh, silly me!' because the answer was damn obvious.

You glared at her. Joo-Hyun really knew how to annoy you.

"—she died because the operation which you lead wasn't successful, right?" Joo-Hyun patted your bare shoulder which caused you to flinch; however, she acted as though she didn't notice your nervous movement.

"Condolence by the way. I know how much that patient meant to you."

Tears filled your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. If this was an ordinary day, you would most definitely make Bae Joo-hyun regret opening her big mouth, but today wasn't like any other day. This was the time you should be ending your pathetic life.

It wasn't happening because you were running away. Again.

"Have a good day, Dr. Bae." Your lack of energy to deal with the annoying doctor was apparent when you decided to simply walk away—no. You were running once more.

Admittedly, when you were driving a few minutes ago, you didn't really know where to go. You were just certain that you needed to leave your apartment—that you needed to get away from the stranger who insisted that you summoned him, but then you found yourself taking the route going to this hospital.

Your safe place.

Ever since you were a kid, you had always dreamt of working here at Cornelia Hospital. You wanted to take care of other people and extend their time in this world—this was what you promised Cha Areum, the little girl you failed to save.

Bae Joo-hyun was right. The operation which you had led wasn't successful. It ended the life of a ten year-old girl.

She was so young.

'She shouldn't have trusted me. I am a failure. I failed her!' Your thoughts cut deeper than a knife. You firmly believed that you deserved to die as well.

"I'm so sorry, Areum!" You stumbled on the ground.

This place felt like home to you. Aside from cutting your hair, you also went to the rooftop of this hospital just to feel the fresh air—a gentle reminder that you were alive and lucky enough to experience simple things like the warmth of the wind.

Today, instead of being in the morgue, you were back on the rooftop.

You plopped down on the floor as you succumbed to the pain of losing the first person whom you loved after the death of your mother.

'I am a failure.' You continued to screw this in your head.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry!" You clasped your hands together and then you rubbed them as fast and as hard as you could.

You also looked at the sky; the harsh ray of the sun didn't matter to you.

It's unbelievable. Where did the sun get the audacity to shine brightly when people were mourning?

The sun was not fair.

"You look horrible, Barbie."

Your eyes instantly landed on the stranger beside you.

The devil was back. He was hugging his legs while placing his chin on the top of his knees.

He flashed another evil grin at you.

You wiped your tears away.

"Look," you stared hard at him. "I don't care if you're really a devil or not. In fact, I don't care if you want to kill me at all."

You stopped talking when you remembered what he said a short time ago. He claimed that he didn't have any intention to end your life. Actually, he said he came to save you.

"—but if you're just going to pester and insult me, I suggest you go back to hell before I kick your ass to heaven."

Your threat must have been funny because the devil burst into laughter. He laughed until he choked on his own spit.

You rolled my eyes.

"You're different from them." The devil chuckled again. He's been in this world since the beginning of time, yet this was the first time he encountered a mere human threatening him.

People were usually scared of him. If they're kind, it was because they needed something from him. Fame, wealth, knowledge, or anything they wanted.

The devil could give any diabolical favors to humans in exchange of their souls.

"Whatever," you pursed your lips since you seriously didn't care about what he was implying.

You simply wanted to rest and to your surprise, the devil actually kept his mouth shut.

Silence engulfed the two of you.

Just when you thought your heart was finally calmed down, the devil spoke again, causing your anger to ignite once more.

"You don't really wanna die today, do you?"

You were so ready for your rebuttal, but his question surprised you.

It rendered you speechless.

The only thing you could do was to look at your shaking hands. Shame and guilt crept into your heart.

You honestly thought that you were ready to die today, but come to think of it, if you really wanted to kill yourself, would you seriously allow yourself to look mediocre in your last day here on earth?

You were vain. You firmly believed that whatever you're wearing when you died would be your ghost outfit.

Knowing this attitude of yours, you were certain you would never ever allow yourself to wear ugly jeans and an equally ugly top if you were aware that you're going to die.

Your ghost outfit should be fabulous.

"W-What are you doing?" Your body trembled in fear when the devil abruptly leaned closer to you.

He touched your chin, urging you to look at him. When you did, your breathing hitched. Not only that, your heart also skipped a beat as you finally took in his appearance.

Maybe they're not lying when they said that the devil came in beautiful form to deceive human beings.

This demon was perfect. His face was symmetrical. He had this heart shaped face. This was the first time you saw someone with rich golden eyes in your more than thirty years of existence.

The devil's eyelashes were so long you were convinced he didn't blink, he batted. You were also surprised to see his eyelids. His right eye was monolid while the left part was double eyelid.

His tail wagged, halting your enthusiastic heart from praising his Godly feature.

The devil stared deep into your soul. He pulled you closer to him and then a gasp escaped your mouth when he touched the back of your shoulder.

"You can't kill yourself." This was the last words he said to you before disappearing into the thin air.

You blinked once. Just a few breaths ago, you was determined to end your life because you blamed yourself for Areum’s death. Right now, however, the only thing clouding your feeble mind was the gorgeous creature who you summoned.

You were drinking in the physical features of the devil like a love-struck fool as you wondered what in hell had gotten into you.

The devil came into beautiful form, but he also came to totally turn your miserable life upside down.

This was not good.

NEXT CHAPTER

#kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung series #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung fantasy au #taehyung roommate au #taehyung romance #demon taehyung #devil taehyung #taehyung devil au #taehyung angst #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x oc #ficswithluv

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

NOT YOUR FAIRYTALE - ft. myg

What do you do when you've called your wedding off but forgot to cancel your cake tastings? Why, you ask your brother's grouchy best friend, of course.

pairing. min yoongi. sort of.

genre + rating. fluff-adjacent. general.

warning / tags. mentions of infidelity, cake tasting, cake tasting isn’t a euphemism, fluff and hurt/comfort, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, friendship, friendship/love, childhood friends.

reading. n/a. a stand-alone three part one-shot.

word count. ~1850

chapter iii.

“I didn’t mean it, Yoongi.”

The apology is off your tongue and crashing into his ears before you have a second to consider it, pleading colouring syllables in soft shades of blue. You hate the way he’s looking at you, like you’ve found the chink in his armour and are on the verge of exploiting it.

“It’s fine.” Over a decade of friendship tells you it’s decidedly not fine. His concession comes far too quickly, meant to placate whatever guilt he’d accidentally kicked up.

It makes you feel worse, the weight increasing tenfold when he offers you his seldom-seen smile. Gums flash, corner of his mouth hitching over soft pink tissue. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes though, falling just short of the endlessly dark depths of his irises.

“Seriously. Forget about it.” You know he’s doing his best to force you onward but you can’t help but dig your figurative heels further into the dirt. An immovable force.

“I’m really sorry,” you repeat, voice thick with meaning.

Yoongi huffs a little, seemingly frustrated. You shrink a little further in on yourself, shoulders dropping and lips shifting in tandem. You’re probably pouting. You feel his stare from your periphery, feline gaze focused wholly on the way your mouth turns and turns around words you’re trying to perfect.

Silence stretches on, longer than you can stand and far more awkward than you’re used to. You can feel it like a suffocating weight, a goose down comforter in the heat of summer - heavy and unpleasant.

“I’m sorry.” It squeaks out in the same instant he sighs. He sounds less irritated, though you can see the tension in his chin, how it jumps the muscle in his jaw.

“You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“But I don’t think you’re heartless, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have said it.” You say it like it’s crucial - as if you might perish if you don’t get them out. They sweep into the spaces between you, earnest and full of fear, filling all the cracks left by your own hand.

You layer your reassurances as best you can, tongue tripping over teeth as you ramble about all the different ways you see him.

In shades of diffused morning light, lined with silver like a physical reminder that there’s always hope. Through the lens of childhood admiration, sprinkled with childish laughter and doe-eyed awe. With as much unconditional love as you’ve ever been capable of, wrapped up in furtive glances and curious, miserably nonchalant texts to your brother.

It comes and comes, word vomit that won’t stop until you’re brought back by the expression on his face. It’s tender, bemused - reminiscent of a parent of an overzealous child. You’ve seen it a million times before, though the instances were much fewer and far between now that you were older.

You immediately backtrack. “I’m sorry.” This time it’s for wasting his time, for being his best friend’s annoying little sister.

You’re tumbling over your own two feet again. You’ve said too much by the time he speaks at all.

“You’re more than that.” A statement of fact, seemingly, by how he delivers it with such ease, as if it hasn’t just set your heart off in your chest, the poor thing stuttering to life (or death). You’re not sure.

Despite your best efforts, the singular word gives you away, coloured canary red with hope. “What?”

If he’d heard your question at all, he says nothing, footsteps never faltering. He’s walking ahead like he hasn’t just turned your world on its axis, throwing you completely off-balance. He doesn’t even offer a glance back, halfway down the block by the time you come to your senses.

You jog to catch up, fingers eager to close the distance you quickly eat up. You settle into a measured pace behind him, though your mouth moves at a mile a minute. You can feel the maddening persistence in your bones, hear it as it carves demands into what was once comfortable silence.

“Why did you say that?” No response. “Yoongi!” He doesn’t even flinch, gaze trained ahead as if he’s never been in Apgujeong before and he’s terribly interested in everything but you.

The distinct urge to stomp your foot fizzles through your limbs and you almost do. You’re rooting yourself to the spot, sneaker raised comically, when he rounds on you. Brows have disappeared into his swath of dark hair and his chin tilts just so, studying you quizzically. It looks like he’’s having an internal debate as to whether he should rib you further.

He decides against it - returning to the conversation you’re so adamant to have. “You know, for being a Kim, you’re not that bright.”

“Excuse me?” Indignation bursts out your mouth. You’re focusing too hard on the words he’s spoken than the implication behind them. They sail over your head, lost to the pretty coral that streaks across the sky and eats up the horizon.

To Yoongi, it’s like watching his literal heart fly out the window. He’s a little exasperated when he speaks again. “You’re my best friend’s little sister. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“What’re you saying?” Because you’re really confused now. You think Namjoon would be too.

Are you even having the same conversation?

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” The line of his mouth quirks, corner stretching into something that borders on a smirk. It’s devilish - decidedly not something you’re used to - and you imagine your stomach kickflips before wrecking itself on the pavement.

Your silence seems to be answer enough.

He heaves a sigh as if he’s been terribly inconvenienced, arms folding over his chest. The gesture should read as don’t come near me! but you have the very distinct urge to fold yourself under his arms. You resist it by biting down hard on your bottom lip.

“I’ve had feelings for you since we were kids. Specifically since you had your 10th grade ballet recital and you kept the bear I got you.”

You remember the day like it was yesterday. You’d been lucky enough to land the coveted spot in the winter showcase and he’d been there, shoulder to shoulder with your brother, when you’d taken your bow. The bouquet of peonies he’d brought you - in soft shades of blush and violet, your favourite colours - had nearly engulfed your frame and you’d had trouble holding both it and the sweet brown bear that came with it.

The same bear that still sat on your bedside table, propped up beside your charging cable and yearly planner. The one you’d cried yourself hoarse over after you thought you lost it during your freshman year of college.

“I don’t understand.” You frown, deeply. You can feel the little dent between your brows. It comes out when you’re stressed or confused or, in this instance, both.

He’s more teasing than unkind: “Like I said - not that bright.”

You ignore the dig. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t do that to Joon. I promised I wouldn’t.”

Somehow, that’s more of a revelation than Yoongi’s confession.

“He knows?” You can’t help the gasp that ricochets out of your mouth, belligerent and betrayed. You’re already running through the 100 different ways you’re going to kill your brother. Because he’d known! While you’d pined, Namjoon had known and simply stood by. “He knows how I feel about you and he didn't say anything?”

You know if you think about it, you can’t blame him. You’d given him a hard time too when he and Sora seemed to get along a little too well. Call it a sibling thing.

In the heat of the moment though, you’re livid. So Yoongi does what he does best and redirects effortlessly.

“—feel?”

The prompt reassigns all focus back to him, your anger toward your brother all but forgotten. You think you could give Pikachu a run for his money by the surprise that works itself into your expression. Heat licks itself across your cheeks, rolling like a steam engine over the exposed skin of your neck and up past your ears. Had it suddenly jumped 20 degrees?

“I mean felt.”

When Yoongi steps forward, you’re hyper fixated on the way his mouth bends and bows, gums and neat white enamel revealed by the motion. You’re rooted to the spot as he’s suddenly all you can see, crown of dark hair blocking the light from behind him, narrow shoulders curling in on you. He’s near enough you can smell his comforting, woody scent.

You haven’t been this close in - well, ever, you think.

Then he kisses you - a chaste thing, right on the cheek - and you forget how to breathe.

“I guess we’ll need to change that.”

SIX MONTHS LATER

“I’m honestly surprised,” your boyfriend drawls, the picture of disinterest as he leans himself against the packed counter top, elbows propping himself up. He’s staring out at the sea of people swarming the apartment, a comfortable group of new and old coming together to celebrate something very important.

He watches as your brother narrowly misses knocking over the beer pong table, earning a groan from the participants. Jungkook yells something about his shot being messed up; Jimin denies a re-throw. There’s more incoherent shouting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re at his back, arms twined neatly around his slender waist as you press your face into the warm expanse of his back. The sweater he wears is overly soft from years of wear and it feels good under your reddened cheek.

You’d had a bit to drink and you were feeling exceptionally affectionate.

“You actually kept it a secret.” Not that he hadn’t figured it out himself. It was in your nature to throw surprise parties - you did for Namjoon and Jin and that loud best friend of yours - so he’d only figured he would get one when the time came.

“We’re very good at keeping secrets in this family, remember?” Your voice carries past the cotton of his clothes, filtering through laughter to kick his beating heart into overdrive.

“Oh, how could I forget.” He snorts quietly, turning in the same instance you unlatch yourself from him. He has to fight the look of disappointment that threatens to pull his mouth into a pout, brow knitting in disapproval as you round on the refrigerator.

It’s only when you spin back to face him that his expression cracks and re-sets itself with glee. Now he’s actually surprised.

Because you’ve got a cake box from the same bakeshop you’d gone cake tasting at. He recognizes the logo on the front and the pretty frosting behind the plastic cover. It’s shades of cream and citrus and decorated with cherries. Your - and his - favourite cake from that day.

“You’re not supposed to see the cake ahead of time!” It’s Namjoon bursting into the kitchen looking alarmed.

You laugh first, bright and sunny. “It’s a birthday cake, not a wedding dress.”

But as you kiss him, cake cradled gingerly between your bodies, Yoongi thinks he wouldn’t mind seeing you in that, either.

notes. this final chapter was short and sweet but i hope you enjoyed it. thank you for reading! x

tag list. @hoodmeup @loveyoongles @vi-hoshi

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