#she seemed to be happy and then suddenly there was a massive change in her. like she would care a lot about her hair and now she doesn't

[dawndelion-winery]

Get Lucky

Meeting the god of luck (you)

Ft. Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone

Arlecchino:

Her loyalty lies wherever she most benefits from it

Which is why she reveres you so, the one god who could enable her endeavours regardless of what they were by granting her good fortune

So she was exhilarated at the prospect of meeting you in person

She makes sure she has her usual offerings prepared, along with some extra, since she'll have the opportunity to hand them to you herself instead of relying on an altar

Despite maintaining her usual stature, there's a clear excitement in her body language

Her eyes widen when you motion for her to come closer, hesitantly stepping towards you, as though she's unsure if she's allowed this proximity

I hope you don't mind being stared at, because she's observing you very keenly as any devout worshipper would, trying to gauge your reaction to each of her offerings

Which of course, means she'll take note of any preferences you mention in passing

That includes if you mention preferring homemade meals

Suddenly the orphanage chefs are met with a very eager Arlecchino in full chef's attire ready to cook up a buffet for her beloved god

Capitano:

Luck can be crucial on the battlefield, which is why he finds himself frequenting your shrines and altars every so often, hoping you'll keep him and his soldiers alive

And he truly does believe in your strength, with the number of close calls he's had

It's because of that that he likes to think he's one of your favourites

So meeting you in person? He's nothing short of chivalrous

He offers to escort you wherever you need to go

It's one of the ways he can thank you apart from prayers and offerings

He also hopes that in spending time with you, a bit of your luck would brush off onto him

He's also not quite as shy as Arlecchino in his devotion, so he'll ask you what you think of the gifts he prepares for you and change them accordingly

He also absolutely does that kiss on your knuckles to show respect

Childe:

Unless you're one of the deities of Snezhnaya, you aren't of much importance to Childe

That is until his little siblings tell him about how you answered their prayers, granting them bits of luck in exchange for their little offerings of candy and old toys

That's when he starts to think it might be a good idea to have you protect his family too

When you meet him, it suddenly becomes clear why you've received so much seafood the past few months

Because he greets you with more fish and trinkets he gets from beating mobs up

He knows what the Tsaritsa wants from him, since she's his boss, but you? Not so much, which means he offers you whatever he can

Mora? He knows Zhongli appreciates it, so maybe you will too. Confectionery? The god of eternity seems to like them

But of course, he knows that you aren't them, hence the trinkets and fish

To which you'll have to explain that you don't need that much fish, especially since whatever he catches for you tends to range from massive to obscenely humongous

He does look sad when you tell him that, because he thinks it means you aren't happy with his offerings but continued to bless him and his family anyway

He's even worse when you comfort him though, because he takes it as his sign to try again

Which means observing what most of your worshippers offer up and one upping them by getting you something of a higher grade, or more

You can't even tell him to stop unless you want to crush his proud little smile

Dottore:

For someone who thinks so lowly of gods, he prays to you a suspicious lot

It's not like he has much of a choice though, since he finds his tests turn out more successful when he leaves you a little something every so often

A small price to pay for success, he supposes

Now, since you're so busy with everyone's desire for good fortune, you don't really know Dottore's notoriety

So you're quite curious about the strange fellow who leaves you with strange elixirs you don't dare consume every Monday in exchange for splashes of luck throughout the week

And when he finds that you're curious about his experiments upon meeting you?

Good luck to you

It's like he's talking to an investor, his biggest sponsor, about his work so you'll keep supporting him (in a way, you sort of are)

A part of him wants to hear you praise his genius and insist that he could've done it without your blessing, but at the same time he doesn't want you to think he doesn't need you and have you stop blessing him

So how does he counter that? The same way he got funding from the academia

"Now I can guarantee you, with my genius and just a smidge of your luck, that's all I'm asking for, I could turn these hilichurl corpses into bioweapons. No, I know what you're thinking, that sounds impossible, but not in my lab-"

Smile and nod, your full attention is all it'll take to please him when he gets like this

Pantalone:

He has a very love hate relationship with you because sometimes he forgets to head down to give you an offering before certain business ventures and they're hit by all sorts of misfortune

Now he acknowledges that you aren't obligated to give him luck when he hasn't "paid" for it, but he really finds it inconvenient

So when he meets you he's going to convince you to start a tab for him

Just constantly bless his work so he strikes gold every time, and he'll pay you your offerings + interest at the standard rate they've got going

You can try to explain to him that's not how it works, but he's pretty dead set on convincing you

"This might sound unconventional, I know, or maybe the interest rate among mortals is insufficient to you? I understand the fortune you bestow upon your worshippers can't be bought with gold, but perhaps you could suggest a rate that might tempt you to make an exception for me?"

He is not above trying to seduce a god if it means he'll get a massive profit from it

Not so subtly slips his jacket off his shoulders, leaning his elbow on a table as he props his head up in one hands, eyeing you with that purposeful, scheming look

It's up to you whether you'll entertain his little business proposal

Taglist[send an ask to be added/removed]: @myluvkeiji @pluvioseprince @aqui-soba @favonius-captain @tiredsleep @raincxtter @loverofthe-stars @gensimping-for-all @irethepotato @almond-adeptus @mx-kamisato @yuzuricebun @chaosinanutshell @heizours @codename-hiraeth @andreiling01 @callmemeelah @sadlonelybagel @plinkuro @thevictoriousmoon @mastering-procrastinating @diorprison @cxlrosii

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #arlecchino #capitano #childe #Tartaglia #dottore #pantalone #regrator #arlecchino x reader #capitano x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #regrator x reader #genshin arlecchino #genshin capitano #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #dottore fluff #genshin pantalone #genshin regrator #winery specials

[wintaerbaer]

things we don’t say: part 4 (kth)

banner credit: @itaeewon

summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slooooow burn, angst, fluff

word count: 11.5k

chapter warnings: swearing as usual, jin is sad and precious, alcohol consumption, one (1) instance of mild violence, suspension of disbelief as to the legal consequences of said violence, jungkook still has zero filter, feelings and bed sharing

a/n: this was a fun one >:) shout out to everyone who brainstormed, sprinted, or otherwise shouted about this fic with me and gave me the motivation to power through this (y’all know who you are, and i love each and every one of you <3)! and a massive shoutout to @jeonqkooks for the beautiful new banner!!

PREVIOUS // SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST

Read on ao3

“And Tae encouraged you to do this?”

“Yeah. Kind of made up my mind for me actually.”

You toss down a few potential dresses on Maya’s bed after spending the past several minutes raiding her closet. With the bulk of your wardrobe still at your old apartment, she’d invited you to borrow something of hers for your date with Seokjin.

You may also be sharing a couple glasses of wine to calm your nerves.

“Hm.”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but I can see you thinking.”

“It’s nothing.” She holds a sparkling gold number up to your shoulders, then frowns and throws it back down. “Or at least nothing you want to hear, anyway.”

“Don’t tell me you’re on about Tae and I again.”

She shrugs. “I think you’d be great together. Sue me.”

“I could say the same about you and Kook.”

A snort rasps from the back of her throat as she coughs on her wine. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“The two of you are more alike than you think,” you say. “And I don’t think you give him enough credit. He’s a good guy.”

She purses her lips, watching clouds go by out the window. “He’s…frustrating.” Her eyelids drop, coming together in a slow blink as her focus turns back to you razor-sharp. “And weren’t you against us together in the first place?”

“Yeah, because it was just sex.”

“It is just sex.”

“Well, I changed my mind.” You take a sip of your drink, let the acidic taste roll around and coat your tongue before it slides down your throat. “If there’s a possibility you two can make each other happy, then you should have that. I think maybe love is rarer than it seems.”

“He and I are far from love.”

“For now,” you say. “But maybe someday?”

She only grimaces like she’s swallowed a bitter pill, giving the tiniest shake of her head before rushing to change the subject. “Tell me about this Seokjin guy.”

“Not much to tell,” you explain. “Joon knows him from the hospital. He’s been very pleasant when we’ve texted. Polite. I’m definitely not getting creep vibes from him.”

“Always a plus. But still, text me the address of the restaurant and a physical description once you’re there.” She pauses, tapping a finger against her chin. “Also, I have some condoms if you want to take a couple.”

“Um, no?”

“Why not? Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

“See, that sounds like something Jungkook would say.”

“Well a dumbass clock is right twice a day, or whatever the saying is.”

“I don’t think that’s quite right.”

“Close enough in his case.” Her voice lowers suddenly—delicately—as if to share something confidential even though you’re the only two in the room. “But speaking of protection, did you hear back from the clinic?”

Maya had delicately suggested a couple weeks ago that you should probably get tested for STDs given that you don’t really know how many women Jace had been with and if they were being safe. It was a fair point, as humiliating as it was to consider that he may have found yet another way to rip apart your life, and so you’d gone for an appointment last week, trying not to cry as you provided the necessary samples.

“Negative,” you murmur, feeling embarrassed even though you know you shouldn’t be and that your friend would never judge you. But the fact that you even have to have this conversation at all gnaws at your own sense of self-doubt. “I’m clean.”

She presses her mouth into a line, an acknowledgment of the misfortune of the situation, while simultaneously tilting her chin in approval. “Good.”

You pick at a loose thread hanging off the hem of the dress you’re holding, a dog barking somewhere outside the window as you grasp for literally anything else to talk about. “So where are you guys heading tonight?”

“Who knows?” Maya says with a sigh, leaning back on the bed. “You know it’s like herding cats with them sometimes. I’m supposed to go over there after this, and we’re going to wing it then.”

“So one of our usual clubs?”

“I’d bet my left tit on it.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling that maybe you’d rather be spending time with your friends tonight instead of going on a half-hearted date. But Seokjin seems nice, and you’ve already committed so you’re stuck. “Could you please just try to make sure Tae has some fun?” You chew at your bottom lip. “He’s been so focused on cheering me up, I want to be sure he still has time for himself.”

“Worry not. I’ll help him pick someone up,” Maya says nonchalantly.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Her entire body perks up, eager that you’ve taken the bait. “Why, does that bother you?”

“Also not what I meant,” you say, crushing down the tiny flip in your stomach at the thought of Taehyung taking someone home as Maya pouts. “I just want him to enjoy himself. I don’t think he’s been doing enough of that lately.”

“Without his other half there with him?” Maya mumbles. “Fat chance.”

You ignore it, knowing she’s baiting you yet again.

But your heart warms all the same.

Seokjin is the embodiment of a perfect gentleman.

He’s handsome—you can’t help but notice as he stands at your approach, introducing himself and coming around the table to pull out your chair for you with a slight bow. When the waiter appears to take your drink order, Seokjin (or “Jin,” as he says to call him) offers to let you pick the wine, so you go with a nice-looking pinot grigio (you haven’t even been able to look at reds since that night). Typical first date conversation flows as you browse the menu, order, and wait for your food, and you find that Jin is soft-spoken without being shy, confident without being arrogant. He tells you about his job as a physical therapist and how he likes to spend his weekends fishing with his brother on his parents’ boat. As you likewise share anecdotes about your publishing job and college shenanigans, Jin listens attentively with kind eyes, asks thoughtful questions, and chuckles at all the right bits.

He’s nice.

But there’s no spark.

You can sense it in his posture, too. His eyes are kind, but there’s pain behind them. He asks questions, but there’s an uncertainty lingering under the surface. He laughs at your jokes but subtly deflates each time like he’s guilty of something.

By the time your meals arrive, you’re ready to chalk it up as a loss.

“Jin,” you begin, tone aiming for the gentleness of “it’s not you, it’s me” proportions. “You seem like a wonderful guy, but for the sake of honesty, it doesn’t feel like either of us sees this going further, does it?”

Jin’s shoulders sag, the mask of obligatory cheerfulness falling away in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” you say quickly, not wanting him to feel bad when he was clearly trying his best to have a good time with you. “I think we both knew going into this that we were each coming to the table with…baggage.”

Jin nods, his eyes now tinged red as he murmurs, “It’s been tough.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ah.” He smiles sadly. “We’ve only just met, and you’re clearly a very sweet woman. I’d feel bad dumping it all out on you when I’ve already wasted your time.”

“Maybe it would be good for both of us?” you suggest. “Obviously we’re both not feeling this from a date standpoint, but maybe what we need is just a friend who understands.”

A slow tip of his chin downwards as he considers. “I think I can do that.”

“And you’re not wasting my time, for the record. I just appreciate the company.”

Jin visibly relaxes at that, his posture easing with the pressure of the date now gone.

“So Namjoon told me you also just got out of a long-term relationship?” you ask, poking at your ravioli.

His chin dips in acknowledgment, voice rough as he states, “Aera.”

“How long were the two of you together?”

“Since high school.” He twists the fabric of his napkin in his hands. “She was my first…everything. Truly. I’ve never loved anyone or anything like her.” A stray thread absentmindedly twines around his finger, the blood darkening under the skin. “We made it all the way through college and my physical therapy schooling doing long distance. Spent the past couple years finally living together. We were happy.” The thread snaps, and he shakes his head. “At least I thought we were.”

You’d swear you can feel your heart literally ache with how forlorn he looks across the table as you gently ask, “I’m guessing she left?”

“I proposed, and she said no.” A strand of dark hair falls in front of his eyes, and he rakes a hand across his head one, two, three times in frustration. “She told me she thinks she’s missing out. That she already lost most of her youth to me, waiting to finish school, when she could’ve been enjoying herself and seeing what else is out there.” He slumps forward, leaning his forearms on the table and lacing his fingers together. “But I can’t understand. I spent just as much time with her, and I never doubted it. To me, she was always the one.”

A quiet settles at the table, the conversational white noise of your fellow diners taking over for the moment as you soak in the sudden sense of kinship with the man in front of you—both blindsided by the partners you thought you’d spend the rest of your lives with.

“I get it,” you tell him, feeling the need to give something in return after he opened his heart to a stranger. “My ex—I thought we were about to get engaged too. I was making all of these plans in my head only to find out that we definitely weren’t on the same page.”

Gentle eyes appraise your face. “He broke up with you?”

“He cheated.”

The words taste bitter as they drop from your lips.

“I’m so sorry,” Jin says, and you can tell by his tone and the look on his face that he genuinely means it.

You chew the inside of your cheek until a canine catches the soft corner of your lip and you taste blood. “I found a ring in his desk and then found him in bed with someone else two weeks later.”

“Wow, Y/N.” He bends in as if he’s going to take your hand before seeming to think better of it and sighing. “I can’t even imagine if I had…” A shake of his head like he’s trying to clear an intrusive thought. “Puts my situation into perspective. I feel awful even comparing the two.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you quickly say. “Your hurt is just as valid as mine. But I can tell that you’re a really great guy, Jin. And if Aera can’t see it, I’m sure there’s someone out there who will cherish that.” You smile to yourself, remembering a night not too long ago with tanned skin and old photographs. “That’s the advice Taehyung gave me, at least.”

“Taehyung?”

“Oh, sorry, he’s my best friend.”

There’s an agreeable hiss as Jin sucks his teeth with a nod. “Well, he sounds like a smart man.”

“He’s my favorite person in the whole world.”

“He must be pretty great, then.”

You can’t help but to nod your head eagerly, words rushing out of you. “He cares so deeply. And he’s so, so talented, but he has a tendency to underestimate himself sometimes,” you gush. “But he’s incredible at everything he does. And just…so resilient. I’ve seen him go through things that no person should ever have to endure, and he’s never let it make him resentful. He could be having the worst day of his life, and he’d still give you the shirt off his back. I admire him more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“You’ve known each other a while then?”

“Since we were kids,” you explain. “It was lonely growing up in my house—my parents weren’t around a lot—so we’d hang out every day. He always knew how to cheer me up, how to make me smile, even by simply being there. Some days, we’d literally sit in my room doing homework silently for hours, and it just felt nice to share space with somebody else. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have him.”

Jin watches you closely. It reminds you of Namjoon’s typical evaluative expression, and you can instantly understand why they’re friends. Heat rises to your cheeks as you realize you’ve been jabbering on, though Jin doesn’t look too bothered, asking, “And the two of you have never…?”

You sheepishly poke at your food again, red as a tomato now based on how hot your cheeks feel. “No, he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“But you feel that way about him?”

Something strange churns low in your belly. You’re not sure why your usual denials catch on the back of your throat, but they stick there, holding your tongue hostage. It should come easily, the words, “No, just friends” a habit by now.

Why do they suddenly feel like a lie?

Thankfully, you’re saved as your phone flashes in the low light of the restaurant with an incoming call, Jimin’s face appearing on the screen.

You furrow your eyebrows at the smiling photo, Jin still watching you curiously. Jimin knows you’re on a date right now, and he’s supposed to be out clubbing with Taehyung, Maya, and Jungkook. Why would he be calling you? Could it be a case of butt dialing? Then again, maybe he’s just drunk.

Or maybe something is wrong.

Your anxiety wins out, and you make a quick apology to Jin, who kindly waves you off, before swiping to accept the call.

“What’s up? I’m on a date.”

“I know, Y/N, and I’m so sorry, but I think we need you at the apartment. Something’s happened.” Jimin’s voice is frazzled on the other end of the line, the discomfort in your stomach slipping straight to full-on nausea as your fingers tighten around the phone, skin stretching taut around your knuckles when he speaks again.

“It’s Tae.”

The club is loud, music pounding an earthquake into the walls and floors as a tangle of sweaty bodies surges around the dance floor. Jimin thinks to himself that maybe, just maybe, he's starting to get a little too old for this when the image of the writhing mob does more to set off feelings of claustrophobia than set him at ease. Still, once he and the others have made camp at a more secluded table in the back of the room, drinks in hand, he's still appreciative of the time out with his friends—even with Jungkook immediately scurrying off with a glint in his eye, target already in his sights.

"Ugh, look at him," Maya sneers, watching him chat up a blonde woman at the bar. "Shameless. Absolutely shameless."

Jimin can't resist a smirk. "Careful there, Maya, you sound jealous."

"Oh, fuck no!" she shrieks, punctuating this with a sip of her drink. "On the contrary, I hope this works out for him, and they get married and have a million babies and move far, far away. Get him out of my hair."

Both Jimin and Taehyung chuckle at that. "You do know you have the option of not sleeping with him, right?" Jimin asks.

"I take what I can get, and he's good at his craft. I'll give him that." Jimin chokes on his drink, while Taehyung only smiles, amused. "Speaking of getting, anyone catching the eye of either of you gentlemen? I'm happy to take on wing-woman duties tonight."

"No," Taehyung says, shaking his head. "I'm just here to make sure none of you do something stupid."

Maya rolls her eyes. "Translation: the love of my life is out on a date, and I'm trying not to think about it. How about you, Chim?"

"I don't know." Jimin shrugs. "Let me get a couple drinks in me and then see how I feel."

"Suit yourselves. But just remember that I offered when I ask one of you two to help a girl out." She tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Especially you, Tae. I know your heart is taken with your endless 'will-they-won't-they' thing with Y/N, but you could always sell the fake ex play better than Jimin here…Tae?"

But Taehyung is no longer paying attention, eyes now intensely locked on the crowd like a hawk zeroing in on prey. Maya follows his line of sight to a couple grinding on the edge of the dance floor, a dark-haired woman and a man with a distinct, bright green jacket—

"Oh my God, is that Jace?!"

Jimin's head snaps around, and even from a distance, there's no denying it. Jace tosses his head back, laughing at something the woman says, before he presses into her further, leaning back down to whisper something in her ear. Jimin quickly turns towards Taehyung, who sits terrifyingly still, eyes still zoned in on Jace and his date.

"Tae, I know you're angry. We all are," he begins, gripping Taehyung's forearm in an attempt to grab his attention. "But you cannot confront him. Not here, not now. Y/N is doing great—she's finally starting to move on. Don't undo that by poking the bear."

"He's right," Maya says, leaning in. "You're not going to accomplish anything here. It's loud, there's too many people—he'll just brush you off. And I know you care about her, Tae, but really? Not your battle to fight. Let it go."

Taehyung continues to sit in silence until Jace and the woman disappear into the crowd, and it's like a spell is suddenly lifted as he blinks rapidly at his friends. "No, you're right." He rubs a finger at the space between his eyes. "Y/N is a grown woman. She doesn't need me to protect her."

"See? A man of sense," Maya lilts. "Not like Mr. Don Juan over here about to stick his tongue into yet another college girl who thinks his immature ass counts as an ‘older man’." She nods her head towards the bar where the blonde woman has positioned herself closer to Jungkook, his hands now encircling her waist.

Taehyung quirks an eyebrow, teasing, "You’re not in college though."

Maya's jaw drops, and she puts a hand to her heart in feigned offense. "Wow! Someone's feisty tonight."

"Don't underestimate Tae when he's in one of his moods," Jimin laughs. "And don't overestimate Kook. I bet you twenty bucks he doesn't take her home."

"I'll take that action. He's got her wrapped around him already. Easy money." They shake on it, and the conversation devolves into trying to find someone in the crowd for Maya to shoot her shot with. However, in spite of her previous claim that she "takes what she can get," she finds an excuse to brush off every potential candidate ("Too short…too tall…too rich-looking?").

(Jimin suspects it may have something to do with the man who is now kissing the blonde at the bar.)

An hour later, and they're still parked at the table and on their third round of drinks. Jace has not resurfaced since they first spotted him, much to Jimin's relief, and he hopes he snuck out to a different club somewhere across town or maybe even a different country. Taehyung sports an easy smile now, alcohol loosening up his body as he laughs at a story Maya is telling about two guys who once had a fist-fight over her in this very club during college. Still, Jimin keeps an eye on their surroundings, likewise wary about what might happen if Jace spots them.

"And thankfully, the cops didn't wind up getting called, but oh God, can you imagine?" Maya howls, her and Taehyung in near-hysterics as she finishes up her story.

"Geez," Taehyung gasps, wiping at his eyes. "You're gonna make me piss my pants. I need the bathroom."

He stands from the table and wanders off in the direction of the restrooms, Maya staring at his back the whole way.

"We need to get that guy laid," she dramatically sighs.

"While he's still in crisis mode over Y/N’s breakup?" Jimin scoffs. "Good luck with that one."

"I don't get those two—I really don't." Maya rattles her perfectly-manicured nails against the table. "She's single for the first time in four years. He's been helplessly in love with her for so much longer. I don't know what he's waiting for."

"I mean it's only been what, a month?" Jimin muses. "He probably feels like it's too soon to make a move. Which is fair."

"Jimin. You're a man. You have eyes. Not only is Y/N pretty, but she has that whole—" She waves a hand in front of her face. "—'take me home to meet your parents’ energy to her. She won't be on the market for long, and you know it. She's already got this date with this Seokjin guy—and Tae told her to do it! It's like he's trying to sabotage himself! And then you have Y/N being smitten with him as always, too. I mentioned helping Tae find a hook-up earlier, and she looked like she was going to hurl."

He shrugs, tapping the side of his glass in thought. “I think they’re just scared. Imagine knowing someone for as long as they have and having to take that leap and risk losing it all.”

“You are out of your mind if you think either of them would reject each other,” Maya snorts.

“You don’t think Y/N might not want to take the chance that they fall apart? Especially after what she’s going through?”

“Tae wouldn’t do that to her,” she frigidly says, as if to challenge the very audacity of the thought.

“I’m not saying he would; I’m just saying she might be guarded.”

“So the solution is for him to help set her up with other guys at his own expense? That’s not fair to him either.”

He tilts his head in subtle agreement but adds, "Look, I want to see the two of them together as much as the next person. But maybe we need to just…let them come to it on their own? I mean, we've tried nudging them in the past, and it clearly hasn't worked. But I have faith they'll get there. Tae can be an idiot, but not that much of an id—"

His thought is cut off by screams and the sound of a commotion out on the dance floor. Hairs standing up on the back of his neck, Jimin bolts from his chair and darts into the crowd, Maya close on his heels. They shove their way through the surge of bodies—pressing back and away from the source of the disturbance—until they reach the spot where a small space has cleared out, and Jimin hears Maya swear loudly behind him.

Taehyung is knelt over Jace on the floor, his fists connecting with the latter's face and head over and over in a frenzy. Jace lies there, face bloodied and clearly dazed, his hands weakly raised in front of him in a futile attempt to shield himself from the blows, but Taehyung is relentless. His arm swings down on a repeated loop as if powered by a motor, and even though the music continues to pound above them, Jimin would swear he can hear the sound of knuckles cracking against flesh and bone. He rushes forward with Maya, both of them grabbing ahold of Taehyung's shoulders to pull him back, but he struggles against them, still trying desperately to connect his punches.

Jungkook suddenly materializes out of nowhere, a halfway-finished beer in his hand that he promptly empties over Jace’s head before grabbing Taehyung around the waist and dragging him back through the crowd. The three of them are able to muscle Taehyung towards the door, Jungkook breaking off to intercept the two bouncers who are stalking their way over as Jimin shoves Taehyung out onto the sidewalk.

"What the fuck, man!"

Taehyung's eyes are wild, his gray hoodie dotted with blood. "I wasn't finished," he says, deep voice chillingly calm.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Maya screams. "Are you trying to get yourself arrested?! Over that piece of shit?!”

“You said you were going to the fucking bathroom,” Jimin angrily adds. “How the hell did you wind up in a fistfight?!”

“I saw him. I hit him. I’m going to do it again,” Taehyung bluntly states. “Let me back in there.”

“The hell we are!” Maya exclaims, and Taehyung may have a few good inches on her, but she steps toe-to-toe with him to block his way. “He's not worth it, Tae, he's not!"

"She is!" Taehyung snaps, and Jimin notices his hands start to shake as the adrenaline begins to wear off. "She…you guys saw her that night. You saw her. In all this time, I have never seen her that broken. Never." His voice cracks, and a sheen appears behind his eyes, tears threatening to spill. "So get out of my way because I am going to make that motherfucker feel every tear I've had to wipe from her face because of him!"

"You're not." The door of the club swings shut as Jungkook joins them outside. "We're leaving now."

Taehyung takes a step forward, pleading, "Jungkook, I—"

"No, Tae, you're done." Jungkook moves to grab his arm, but Taehyung recognizes defeat and shakes him off, pulling his hood over his head and tramping off in the direction of their apartment. The others follow behind, close enough to keep a watchful eye out but with enough distance to give him space to cool down.

"How did it go inside?" Jimin asks quietly.

Jungkook pushes a hand through his hair. “We lucked out. I've worked with those guys before, and we're friendly. Gave them a quick rundown of the situation, and they're going to try and contain it, but…you know…" He shrugs. "That was technically assault."

"What that was was idiotic," Maya hisses.

"It was awesome."

"Kook!"

"What?! It was. Would've thought about taking care of it myself if Tae hadn't beaten me to it. Guy deserved it."

"At the cost of possible jail?" Jimin chimes in. "We all hate the guy, but I don't think it's doing Y/N a favor if she has to bail us out of—" He slaps a hand to his forehead. "Oh, fuck, Y/N."

The other two look at him in question, and he hesitates. "Do we…do we tell her?" he asks slowly. "She's on that date. What if it's going well?"

The three of them fall into silence, looking uneasily at Taehyung's back. He walks with his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched and heels digging into the sidewalk. Jimin watches as he takes a kick at an empty can, sending it flying into the gutter.

"It's Tae," Maya murmurs suddenly from his left. "She'd want to know."

"Shit, yeah." Jimin presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to rub away the headache that is quickly developing. "I'll call her—see if she can meet us back at the apartment."

"I'm going to call Hobi too," Jungkook says, phone already out. "I've punched someone before and can guarantee—his hand is fucked up."

Jimin nods, slowing his steps so he can fall behind the others for a bit of privacy. He doesn't know how the night spiraled so out of control, but he can't shake the existential feeling that something in the cosmos has changed.

Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he takes a deep breath of the night air and dials your number.

Your hands shake as you fumble with your keys outside the guys' apartment, struggling to grasp the spare that Taehyung lent you when you decided to stay with them. Jimin had said to take your time if you had to, but the thought of something being wrong with Taehyung had you in a panic. He hadn’t given you any details either, saying that they’d explain it all once you were there.

Jin had hurried you out at the distressed look on your face after you hung up, telling you that he’d take care of dinner and to go take care of your friend (you’ll later try to have Namjoon pass along some money for your meal that Jin will steadfastly refuse). Not wanting to stand and wait for an Uber, you had half-run the twelve blocks from the restaurant instead.

Out of breath, you gasp out a, "What happened?!" when Jungkook opens the door at the sound of your scrambling, not even giving him a chance to answer before you're pushing past him inside.

Taehyung sits on the edge of the couch with Hoseok kneeling in front of him, first aid kit at his feet. From here, you can see that his right hand is littered with cuts, purple bruises already forming across his swollen knuckles even as Hoseok tends to the wounds. Taehyung doesn't look up when you walk in, his eyes hooded and fixed on his hand.

"What the fuck happened?!" You repeat, but the room is quiet for a moment more as Jungkook, Jimin, and Maya all look at each other as if they don't know what to say.

Jimin breaks first. "We, ah…" he begins from his armchair seat. "We ran into your ex."

Your heart drops into your stomach, and you immediately feel dizzy. Images of Jace flood your mind: his smile, his hands, his voice—him tangled up in your bed when you got back from the beach house.

"He was at the club," Jimin continues. "And Tae…he, um—"

"He kicked his ass!" Jungkook chirps, an unmistakable hint of delight in his voice.

A tornado of feelings rips through your insides, a blend of confusion and anxiety that has you momentarily reeling. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any residual feelings for Jace, the tiniest part of your brain in a worry over the state he might be in right now. But it all melts away when you look down at the man who still won't meet your eyes, his purpling hand making your heart twist even harder.

"Are you okay?" you ask softly, and Taehyung finally lifts his head to look at you. His gaze is stoic, but there's a haze of emotion behind his eyes that you can't place.

"I'm fine," he says, but his voice is tight and gravelly.

Hoseok tuts, dabbing a spot of ointment across Taehyung's knuckles. "Let's hope you stay that way. I don't think you'll need any stitches, and nothing seems to be broken, but we'll have to keep an eye on this to make sure nothing gets infected." He pulls bandages out of the first aid kit and begins wrapping Taehyung's hand.

You're afraid to ask this next question, but the words fall out anyway. "Did the police come?"

Jimin shakes his head. "We got out of there quick, and Kook talked to the bouncers that were friends of his—" Jungkook gives a two-finger salute from his perch by the kitchen. "—they said they'd try to take care of it, but who knows." He pauses before asking, "Do you think Jace would press charges?"

"I don't know," you answer honestly. You've known Jace to be proud, but you're not sure if that means he'll brush this off as a simple scrap or want to save face in some way.

"If he does, I know a lawyer who might be able to help," Maya pipes up at the opposite end of the couch. "He's a…friend. Owes me a favor."

"A lawyer friend?" Jungkook asks, eyes narrowing. "Do we know him? What's his name?"

"Last name: Out. First name: Butt."

Jungkook scoffs at that, but you also hear him mutter under his breath, "He sounds like a butt."

"Well as much as I would like to stay and chat about fights and butts," Hoseok says, bandaging the last of Tae's hand and closing his kit, "Sunny and I have a meeting with the wedding coordinator in the morning so I’ve gotta go. Keep that clean, and text me immediately if anything looks or feels wrong or if the swelling doesn’t go down. I can swing by in a couple days to look at it again."

Taehyung nods silently, and Hoseok heads for the door, waving as Jungkook shouts, "Thanks, doc!"

An awkward silence sweeps the room as the door swings shut, the only sound being that of Jimin anxiously tapping his heels against the floor. Maya reads the room, looking around at each person and eventually settling on you and Taehyung. Your posture is tense as you stiffly hover by the side of the couch, shifting your feet, while Taehyung is back to avoiding eye contact.

"I think I'm going to head out too," she says, standing up and shooting Jimin a pointed look.

"Do you need a ride home?" Jungkook asks. His tone says that he's trying to be nonchalant, but his eyes betray his eagerness.

"I'm a big girl, Kook," Maya drawls. "I can get myself home."

"Would you let lawyer friend drive you home?"

She rolls her eyes dramatically, her whole head tilting back in exasperation. "Oh my God, you're insufferable. Fine."

Jungkook moves for his keys, a certain spring in his step, while Maya addresses the rest of you. "I'll stop by tomorrow. Please, please try to stay out of trouble until then. Looking at you, Tae." And then she and Jungkook exit the apartment, Maya slipping money into Jimin’s hand as she goes.

Jimin lets out a heavy sigh. "Well he's not coming home tonight." He stands and stretches his arms above his head. "I'm gonna turn in. Let me know if either of you needs something, yeah?" He shuffles away to his bedroom, leaving you and Taehyung alone.

Taehyung continues to sit still as a statue, staring at the wall, and so you take a careful seat next to him, slowly so as to not jostle the cushions too much. When he keeps his eyes straight ahead, you gently take his injured hand between both of yours. His body visibly softens as you graze your fingers back and forth across his palm.

"Tae…"

He looks at you then, and you take the time to examine his face. There's no guilt or shame in his expression, but you see a pain there that has you reaching up to rub at the creases between his eyes.

His eyelids droop down at your touch. “I’m sorry about your date.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “It wasn’t going that well anyway.”

You see a muscle jump in his jaw, concern tightening the corners of his mouth. “Did he do something?”

“Easy.” You resume your tracing of his palm. “He was very kind and respectful, and we had an oddly sweet conversation. Just realized that neither of us is in the proper mindset for it to be anything more than maybe a friendship.”

A hum comes from deep in his throat. “Alright.”

“Certainly no need for you to fight any other men on my behalf,” you say, and he shoots you an uneasy look before staring down your reflections in the dark of the TV screen.

You take it in with him, observing the shadowy duplicates who feel like they’re sitting across from you. The linked arms, the soothing press of your knee to his—your current situation may feel anxiety-inducing, but the figures mirrored in the screen look comfortable. Unified.

"Are you mad?" he whispers after a moment.

The question catches you off guard. "Why would I be?"

"I know you still care about him." Taehyung swallows, glancing down at your intertwined hands. "You wouldn't still be this upset over him if you didn't."

You let his words sink in, not altogether untrue but certainly not at the forefront of your mind right now. "I'm not worried about him—I'm worried about you." Taehyung's eyes flash at that with something akin to confusion, and you chew at your lower lip. "I've never seen you like this."

It's true. Taehyung, in spite of his mild nature, has always had a protective streak in him. One time, when the two of you were twelve, a few boys in your class had spent a week bullying you about your clothes—calling you a “spoiled, pretentious bitch”—only to come back from gym class one day to find their shirts in the garbage, cut to bits. But never—in all of your years together—have you ever known him to get violent.

"I tried to let it go. I did," Taehyung insists. He picks at his bandages, and you cover his hand with your own to still him. "I just…" His voice cracks, eyes suddenly glassy. "I couldn't stop seeing you on the bathroom floor that night."

The tears spill over, and you pull him into you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he gasps into your shoulder. He's trying to force the emotion down—you can feel it in the way his body trembles—and so you tangle your fingers in the spot where his hairline meets the back of his neck. You know it's always been a soothing spot for him, and his breathing slowly evens out as you coast your fingers back and forth, a rogue piece of your brain taking pleasure in the feel of his soft hair under your hands.

"Tae," you whisper again once he's calmed, and he pulls back to look at you, face entirely too close. Your heart stutters at the sheer amount of raw affection in his expression, and the words you were about to say catch in your throat along with your breath. Since when does being around him make you so nervous?

"I'm sorry," Taehyung murmurs, entirely oblivious to your current internal struggle. "I know this isn't about me—"

"No," you quickly say, snapping out of your inner turmoil. "Tae, you're allowed to have feelings, you know?" Your fingers absentmindedly run along his neck again. "And like you told me that night, I will be fine. I will be. It just…takes a bit of time. And I appreciate everything you've done to try and help get me there."

You try to convey just how much you mean this in your tone, lacing your words with every bit of gratitude you've built up over the past month (over the past years). Taehyung seems to understand, his thumb coming up to gently brush against your chin.

A glimpse of white bandages turns you sullen, raising your hands to delicately graze against their soft edges and chart the way they wrap around his knuckles. He winces as you touch them, and frustration crests like a wave in your chest; you hate that he’s hurting, hate that your own troubles are the cause of it.

“You didn’t have to do this for me,” you sigh, dripping with guilt.

“I’d do anything for you.”

His words are firm, and he cants forward as he says them until his forehead rests against yours, a single shared breath haunting the space between your lips.

"I just don't ever want to see you like that again," he whispers.

And it's all too much: your pulse spikes, the blood pounding through your veins at his nearness and the honey-sweet words rolling off his tongue. This time, you're the one who can't look him in the eye as you put some distance between your bodies, abruptly shifting away from him on the couch.

"You won't."

The tension settles in thick, and Taehyung gazes at you, undoubtedly perplexed by your sudden withdrawal. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you nod at his hand. "You had an eventful day. I'm fine out here if you want to sleep?"

He slowly shakes his head. "No, uh…I don't think I'll be able to sleep. Might just stay up and watch some TV. You can take my bed, though, if you're tired."

The charged atmosphere still has you slightly shaken—your scrambled brain trying to make sense of the tingling in your stomach—but concern for Taehyung ultimately wins out, and you tell him that you'll stay up to keep him company. He doesn't argue with that, simply flips on your favorite cooking channel and drags your legs into his lap as you stretch out.

It's how Jungkook finds you as he slinks back in the next morning, smiling to himself as he drapes a blanket over your sleeping forms.

July is beginning its descent into August, stifling clouds of heat stuffing themselves into roads and alleyways, when your sign to move back into your own apartment comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook almost getting a full look at your bare ass one Saturday morning.

He immediately flips his back to you, frantically covering his face with his arms and bellowing, "I'M NOT LOOKING!" at the top of his lungs.

"Jeon, you'd better keep your eyes covered or I swear to God I'll put your nuts in a vise!"

"Is that like a kink thi—"

"Do NOT." You rush to dress yourself, giving him the signal when it's safe to turn around.

He doesn't look the least bit ashamed, the bastard.

"Not that it's necessarily unwelcome, but why were you almost naked in my living room?"

You glare at him. "Jimin is taking one of his long ass showers."

"And Tae's at work. Just use his room."

You'd thought about it, but the idea of getting naked in your best friend's bedroom had made you blush, like you'd be crossing some sort of line.

"I thought I could change fast enough," you say, not wanting to have to explain your reasoning to Jungkook of all people.

"Well you obviously thought wrong." He smirks, and you already know what's coming. "Nice bra, by the way."

You pick up a throw pillow off the couch and fling it at him. You'd been shooting for his head, wanting to smack the smug grin right off his face, but your aim is about two feet off and he catches it effortlessly anyway.

What an ass.

“No wonder Maya is always pissed at you,” you jab. “Constantly flirting with other girls.”

His demeanor shifts ever so slightly—his shoulders lower, and you can tell by the way his cockiness subtly but immediately deflates that you’ve wounded him. A pang of regret for your words hits at the sight of wide doe eyes.

“She talks about me to you?”

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible, but you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so innocent, tentative hopefulness coloring his face.

“Not, like, regularly, but sometimes, sure,” you say, not quite certain how to handle this new edition of Jungkook.

“What does she say?”

Wow, those big, round Bambi eyes are really doing work.

“Just that, you know.” You scratch at your ear, not wanting to accidentally throw Maya under any buses while also honoring your friendship with Jungkook. “You’re kind of annoying sometimes.”

That clearly doesn’t make him happy, his jaw tightening with discontent as he grimaces. “Right.”

“I mean think about it, Kook,” you say, compelled to defend Maya. “You hook up with her, and then flirt and pick up other girls right in front of her face.”

“We’re not exclusive!” he exclaims.

“Maybe she wants to be?”

“But that was her idea!”

That stops you. Not once since you found out the two of them were hooking up did it cross your mind that Jungkook would ever be the one unhappy with their arrangement. He’s never had a serious girlfriend in the entire time you’ve known him. Up until this moment, you were sure he’d be a perpetual bachelor. “What?”

“She wanted to be non-exclusive.”

“And you…don’t?”

He looks away from you, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know.”

No. It can’t be.

“Wait a second.”

You move to stand in front of him, taking his face in your hands so you can turn him every which way, inspecting his face. Pink cheeks, a creased brow, jawline so hard you could probably cut yourself on it.

“You’re flustered!” you shriek. Jungkook quickly uncrosses his arms to bat your hands away, reeling back to put some distance between the two of you.

“I’m not!”

“You are!” you shout, following him as he roams around the room. “Jeon Jungkook is flustered!”

“Bah, you’re insane, woman.” He swings a dismissive hand even as the two of you settle in at the kitchen island.

“You’d be cute together!”

“She’s too stubborn.”

“I can totally see it!”

“It would never work.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Hey, worry about your own love life.”

He means it to be teasing, obviously not thinking too hard about his words because the second he realizes what he’s just said, he pales. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say, sobered. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Still—“

“You’re right. I’m avoiding things.” You peer over at the pull-out couch, still in bed-mode with your blankets and pillows messily strewn across it. Your suitcase, meanwhile, sits off to the side with the contents tangled and half-overflowing.

In short, you’re a mess.

The guys have never made you feel unwelcome, have only ever made it clear that you are free to stay as long as you’d like, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t felt your time here beginning to weigh on your shoulders, knowing you’re only putting off the inevitable.

You feel like you’ve been (slowly, but surely) making emotional progress, but going back to the apartment might threaten to undo all of that. Although it may have felt like it at times growing up, you’ve technically never lived alone, and you’ve grown accustomed to having your people around. In fact, you thrive on it. Being around your friends is the only reason why you’ve been doing as well as you have.

You love having someone to come home to.

“I need to move back soon,” you tell Jungkook. “But returning to the apartment is actually terrifying.”

He considers you for a moment, leaning his weight back on the granite countertop. “Do you know what helps me when I’m not confident about something?”

“Getting a stranger to moan your name?”

“Well, yes, but aside from that.” You shrug, and he grins. “I just do it.”

“Wow, Jeon,” you say, with the appropriate amount of eye roll. “Reaching real deep on that one.”

“I mean it!” he urges. “Just need to rip off the band-aid. The longer you dwell on it, the harder it will be in the end.”

That’s…oddly decent advice.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you might have a point,” you say, somewhat thrown off by this flustered, good-advice-giving version of your friend.

“And speaking of things being harder, that last bit of advice also goes for forepl—“

“Aaaaaaand it’s ruined.”

“I’m just saying it has multiple applications!”

“Yeah, it’s time for me to move back out,” you say. “I can’t live with you anymore.”

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing at his jaw. “Tae is going to be devastated though.”

Your head jerks around. “What? Why?”

“Because he likes having you here,” he says, looking at you like you just asked him what color the sky is. “The guy punched out your ex for you. I think it’s safe to say he enjoys having you around.”

You wince at the mention of the club, a nerve jumping in your chest every time you’re reminded that Taehyung almost got arrested defending your honor. Nothing had ever come of the fight, so you’re assuming Jace has chosen to just let it go, and for that, you’re thankful. You never would have been able to live with it if Taehyung had suffered serious consequences over your own personal crisis.

You’d do the same thing for him, sure. But that’s different.

“Jimin and I will miss you too, of course,” Jungkook continues. “And I’m still kind of sad I didn’t get my own shot in on that asshole that night. Dumped a beer on him though.” He smiles at you like he’d be wagging his tail if he had one.

“My hero.”

“Yeah, the mayor said I’m getting a medal.”

“Oh, really? When’s the ceremony.”

“Sunday afternoon.”

You snap your fingers. “Ah, I can’t make it. I have a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, a super important thing. Way more important than your thing.”

“You’re a heart-breaker, Y/N. My ego will never recover.” He grins again, playfully rapping his fingers against the counter as he stands to grab a drink.

“Yep,” he says, voice muffled on the other side of the fridge door. “Definitely going to miss you around here.”

As Jungkook predicted, Taehyung frowns when he gets home from work and you tell him about your plans to move back into your apartment at the end of the week, perhaps sensing your apprehension about returning to the scene of the crime. He insists he’ll come with you and sleep over the first night for support and to make sure you’re okay being back there.

“Whatever you need,” he says. “You’re not going to face it alone.”

Your apartment is pitch black when you swing the door open, the quietness hovering in the air making you feel like you're suffocating. You flick on the light, and you're struck by how much emptier the space is. Jace definitely came by at some point as all of his things are no longer present: his gaming system, his turntable, the tiny rhino statue he had picked out on your last vacation together. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a glint of a key on the kitchen counter.

Taehyung tries to give you space by busying himself—turning on lights and opening cabinets in a seeming attempt to take inventory of what Jace left behind. He steals glances at you every now and then as you slowly move through the living room, hands reaching out to lightly brush at the furniture with no real goal in mind. This is supposed to be your home, but you feel like a stranger—the ghosts of late nights binging TV shows, giggling wildly at inside jokes, promising forever lurk around every corner.

When you take a hesitant step inside the bedroom, your breath catches in your throat and you choke on a sob. The bedsheets are still in a tangle, a relic of that night seven weeks ago when your whole world fell apart.

Taehyung senses something is wrong and bolts to your side in an instant, hands steadying you where you slump against the doorframe. He turns you in his arms, and his fingers come up to cradle your face in his direction.

"Don't look at that, look at me," he murmurs, thumbs rubbing away the tears that have begun to fall. "What do you need?"

To run, to hide, to crawl into the deepest hole you can find and scream your lungs out until the pain subsides. But you can't. Instead you focus on the brown of Taehyung's eyes, let it ease you back down until your breathing steadies and your heart rate levels.

"A shower," you finally choke out. "I need a shower."

He takes a final swipe at your tear-stained cheeks and offers up a small smile. "Okay. Where are the towels?"

You nod in the direction of the closet as Taehyung ushers you out towards the bathroom. It feels empty in here too, the single toothbrush staring you down from its holder and counter notably absent of shaving cream and hair gel. You tear your eyes away from the vanity to start the water running, and Taehyung pops up a moment later with a towel in hand and a fresh pair of pajamas he must've found in your dresser.

"Take your time," he says. "And if you need anything, anything at all, just give a shout. I'll be right out here." His cheeks take on a hint of pink when you quirk an eyebrow at him. "I'll close my eyes. Promise."

You thank him as he steps out so you can strip and get into the tub. The water is set to a near-scalding temperature and you welcome the sting, scrubbing away at your skin as if trying to erase all of the memories that are once again flooding back.

Your first date at the art museum, where he pointed to a painting of an extravagant rose garden and said it reminded him of you.

Your first kiss under the stars, the two of you losing track of time as he pulled you in again and again.

Endless Saturdays wandering around the city, not caring where you wound up as long as his hand was in yours.

Planning your someday wedding, his whispered promises of, Soon, beautiful, soon, sealed with a signature wink.

Picking out names for children who would never be born.

The tears are pouring out of you now, but you let them. One cry, you promise yourself. One final, good cry to wash it all away, and then it'll be time to let go for good.

You don't know how long you spend in the shower, but by the time you step back out into the living room, Taehyung has already set himself up with a makeshift bed on the couch. He lifts his head when he sees you and, taking note of your red-rimmed eyes, gets up to pull you into a hug.

For a moment he just holds you, arms banding tight around your shoulders before he says, "I cleaned out your fridge. Most of it was spoiled." He hesitates, pulling back to look at you. "And I changed the bedsheets." A hand rubs at the back of his neck. "I actually ran downstairs and threw them straight in the dumpster, I hope that's okay."

His thoughtfulness overwhelms you, and you'd probably start crying again if not for the fact that you don't think you have a single tear left in your body. As you gape at him, Taehyung interprets your silence for disapproval and quickly adds, "I'll buy you new ones."

You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back into you, sinking your face into the crook of his neck as you whisper a, "Thank you."

He seems to falter for a second before returning the hug, and as you give him one last squeeze he steps back, scrutinizing you more closely. "You look like you could use some sleep."

"Yeah," you admit, eyeing the cramped set-up on the couch. "Is that going to be okay for you though?"

"Absolutely," he chimes, bounding over to the couch to settle back in. He has to bend his long legs to fit, toes pressing into the fabric of the arm. "See? Comfy." When he catches the uneasy look on your face, he says, "Honestly. Y/N. Nowhere else I'd rather be."

You give him a hesitant nod—you know it'd be useless to try to convince him otherwise. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" He flips onto his back, popping an arm behind his head and closing his eyes.

You cross the room slowly and, just like last time, find yourself pausing at the threshold of your bedroom. The bed is no longer a mess, fresh sheets now stretched neatly across the mattress, but as you look at it, it strikes you that you have never slept here alone. And while you may have committed yourself to moving on from this moment forward, you know this has the power to break you. Tomorrow, maybe, but right now, you're nowhere near ready for this.

You look back and forth between your bed and where Taehyung is lying, his legs now half-draped over the couch's arm, and you make up your mind.

"Tae?"

"Hmm?" He opens his eyes and turns his head to look at you.

"Can you sleep in here with me?"

He blinks, jaw dropping in surprise. "Uhh…are you sure?"

His hesitancy has you losing some of your nerve, and you have to look away. "I just don't think I can…" You purse your lips and shake your head. "You don't have to. I just—"

"No, it's okay. We can—yeah," he blurts, already standing up.

He sidesteps you in the doorway, taking your hand and pulling you into the room after him with a soft smile. "C'mon. Like I said, whatever you need."

Taehyung pulls back the covers so the two of you can crawl in. It's awkward at first, both of your bodies lying stiff across from each other. Physical affection has never been altogether uncommon for the two of you, but this—lying in the bed you used to share with your ex—feels like crossing a line of intimacy that you've never experienced with him before.

But then Taehyung laughs, reaching over to take your hand in his. "I know we’re a long way from high school, but we can do this, yeah? Not like we haven’t shared a bed before."

It breaks the tension, and you giggle back, looking down at where he's laced your fingers together. His knuckles are still lightly bruised with touches of yellow and green, and you run your free hand over the marks, smile drooping.

"I'm really sorry about this," you murmur.

"I'm not." Taehyung's forehead creases. "I'd do it again."

"Please don't," you say quickly. "If you see him again, just let it go."

He frowns and opens his mouth to respond, but you cut in. "Not because I care about him. I just don't want you getting into any trouble on his account. He's not worth it."

Taehyung briefly clenches his jaw but eventually gives you a slow nod. "Well I think my point was made anyway."

"Thank you," you say, pulling his hand up to brush a light kiss to his bruises. "I know I keep saying that, but I really can't tell you enough."

"You don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same." His face breaks out into one of his boxy smiles. "Remember when Luna broke up with me, and I barely left the apartment for two weeks? You stopped by every day to make sure I was still eating."

You hum at the memory. It had been two weeks of dropping off take-out and commandeering the boys' kitchen to make large batch meals, even harassing Jimin to give you regular updates on whether or not Taehyung had eaten lunch. Jace had given you grief about it at the time, whining that Taehyung was a grown man who could take care of himself, especially when the two of you had just moved in and were still working on unpacking.

“And my birthday junior year of high school.” He’s quiet as he remembers, eyes fixed on some spot over your shoulder as if he’s rewatching the moments on film. “You got me those shoes I’d been absolutely enamored with.”

His old ones had been falling apart entirely, soles curling away from the fabric like orange peels in the sun. Barely even looking away from the bottle at that point, there was virtually no chance that Taehyung’s father would give him enough money to buy him new ones at the thrift store, let alone the high-end sneakers you’d always catch him subtly staring at every time the two of you wandered around the mall after school.

So of course, you’d done the only logical thing and surprised him with them for his birthday, the look of complete elation on his face making your heart leap in ways you didn’t even know it could.

A touch of joy slips into his expression too now as he picks another recollection out of his brain. "Or that time in college when I got stuck in that bathroom across campus with no toilet paper and you left class to break into the men's room and bring me some."

You scrunch your nose at that, saying, "We swore never to talk about that again!"

Taehyung laughs. "I know, but what I'm trying to say is that that's what we do. We take care of each other."

The truth of the statement hits you like a truck as you're suddenly anchoring yourself in Taehyung's eyes again.

It's as though every moment of the last seventeen years comes rushing back to you all at once—every joy, every celebration, every tear, every heartbreak. And at your side in each memory are the same brown eyes you're staring into right now.

A feeling that you're too scared to place stirs in your chest and has you panicking, and you can see that Taehyung isn't unaffected by the moment either as his lips part and he studies you with a newfound softness. When he reaches up to brush your hair behind your ear, the feeling in your chest swells and snaps, and you bury your face in his chest, tears starting afresh, as he wraps his arms around you.

"I'm here," he whispers. "I'm right here."

You press your hands into his back, clinging to him, and hope the pressure conveys what your words can't—what you don't even have a name for yet.

Your sobs subside after a while, but you stay wrapped up in each other. Right before you fall asleep, one final flashback of Jace leaks into your mind—words he had spit at you before leaving this place that night.

I've never been your priority. No one can be. Not when he's around.

It's hard work dragging yourself awake the next morning, your eyelids heavy and begging you to close them for just five more minutes.

But you realize that the side of the bed next to you is not only empty—it's cold. Reaching out to your nightstand, you flip your phone over to check the time. 10:42. The morning is practically gone.

You pull yourself out of bed and shuffle into the living room where you spot a figure standing in the kitchen. Taehyung is busy at the stove, white t-shirt tight across his shoulders as he works, humming to himself, and you stop for a moment to take him in (was he always this broad?).

"Good mood today?" you say. He turns, flashing you a smile over his shoulder.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" He catches himself, realizing he might sound a little too chipper for the occasion and quietly asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Alright," you shrug, and it's the truth. The seemingly endless crying the night before had been exhausting, but it also provided you with something of a catharsis, leaving you feeling almost refreshed today.

"Good," Taehyung says. He nods to the plate on the counter next to him. "I made pancakes."

"The chocolate chip ones?"

He places a hand over his heart and looks at you in mock offense. “Of course. What do you take me for?”

You laugh and wander over to the dining room table where a bright bouquet of lilies now sits in a vase. Pinching one of the delicate, silky petals between your fingers, you ask, "What's this?"

Taehyung glances over his shoulder again, blushing slightly when he sees what you're looking at. "Oh, I um—" He fumbles for his words. "I ran out to get you some groceries and saw the florist next door. Figured they could, you know, brighten things up in here a little."

"You didn't have to do that," you tell him softly, but he brushes you off with a shrug.

"I wanted to."

You reach for the petals again, the bright orange seeming to cast a glow on your skin like a sunset. “You know these look like—“

“The ones you used to collect on our walks growing up?” He chuckles at your stunned silence. “Yeah, I know.”

It still surprises you sometimes—the depth of his thoughtfulness and how well he knows you—and before you can stop yourself, you’re stepping up behind him at the stove. You wind your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead to the space between his shoulder blades and allowing your breath to warm the cotton of his t-shirt. It’s soft—intimate—and you feel Taehyung tighten up under your touch, his entire body going rigid.

“Y/N—“

“You know you mean the world to me, right?”

It’s a near-whisper—you sound like you’re on the brink of tears—and maybe that’s why Taehyung’s hard lines soften at the sound of your voice, turning in your arms so he can reciprocate the embrace and press a cheek to your temple. He doesn’t say a word, just holds you tight as you lean your face into his chest and inhale the comforting scent of pancake batter, laundry detergent, and honey-scented soap.

You think you could stay here forever.

Last night’s mood seems to linger in the air like little beams of light that warm your skin in the best way. You recall falling asleep in these same arms, this same scent wrapped around you—how it was easily the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

It's different, this space between you now. Has been since the night in the bathroom. You and Taehyung may have gone through a metric fuck ton of pain over the course of your lives, but there's no denying that this breakup is pushing your friendship into a new form, molding it into a new shape.

You're too nervous to dwell on it, but damn, if you aren't going to take advantage of how good it feels to cling to him right now. You want to wrap yourself around him like a koala—draw your legs around his waist and bury your nose into the hollow space at his collarbone.

What a great way to scare him off too, your brain says, even as your heart argues, He's stuck with you through worse.

You're tempted—seriously considering dragging him over to the couch so you can snuggle him properly—when the fire alarm goes off, the pancake on the stove burnt and blackened.

Taehyung releases you in a flash, spinning to shut off the burner and pull the pan off the stove as you rush to the hallway closet for a broom. You swing it underneath the alarm until the smoke clears, and the device stops its blaring shrieks. As silence filters back in, Taehyung tips the burnt pancake into the trash, the previous moment ruined.

"That'd be our luck to burn this place down your first day back," he jokes.

You tip your head up, already thinking this may have been a bad idea and wishing you were back at the guys' place. "Maybe not the worst thing in the world."

He approaches you slowly but deliberately, raising a long finger to press at your chin until you've lowered your gaze enough to look him in the eyes. Taking your hands in his—gently, so gently—he says, "We're going to breathe life back into this place. I'll be here every day if you want me to be."

"You d—"

"I will. Or Maya or Jimin or Kook." He moves his head so you're forced to look at him even as you try to look away, confronted with the raw sincerity in his eyes. "We'll drown out the bad memories with new good ones."

His voice is CPR, pressing warmth into your chest, and just like that, the suffocating walls around you open up a bit. You can see it, the two of you sitting on the couch watching TV—or maybe you watching him play one of his games—your other friends occasionally dipping in and out as they please.

More orange lilies on the table.

You pull your hands from his and drift to the kitchen counter, picking up the glinting silver key sitting on its surface. Turning back to Taehyung, you press it into his palm, and he stares at you, eyes wide with wonder.

"You're sure?"

You nod, and he curls his fingers around the key like it's something delicate—handling it with the same care you once saw him give a baby bird that had fallen out of its nest in the park when you were thirteen.

"Every day," he promises, pinky wrapping around yours and squeezing. "Just say the word."

NEXT

a/n: likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated! <3

taglist is open!

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #taehyung imagines #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic

[llamagoddessofficial]

How do the boyos react to a breakup? :3c

Not... great.

I've answered this before, but it doesn't hurt to do it again, does it?

Sans: There's a split second, after she breaks the news, where he stares at her with no expression on his face. It looks lost, perhaps... blank? Totally unreadable. But to someone who knows him very well, like Papyrus, Sans just did his version of breaking down in hysterical tears and begging her not to leave him.

... Just like that, he defaults to what he always does when faced with a deep emotional wound- the mask comes back up. He doesn't even try to resist the breakup. He perfectly plays the part of the understanding, emotionally mature ex, he agrees that they 'just aren't compatible that way'. He doesn't ask how he can change, he doesn't try to come up with ways to make things work. He just rolls over. Of course he's happy to stay close friends. Of course she's still welcome at their place. Of course she should still come over for spaghetti and videogames on Friday evening. Anything to get her out the door as soon as possible.

He seems completely unaffected. They continue being friends... but part of him is now permanently closed off to her. He never gives casual touch, he doesn't text her jokes that made him think of her. Their texts become a repeating pattern of her longer messages, his simple 'ok 👍' replies, then the little grey timestamp of several days passing. Outside of the usual Friday, he never asks to come over, he never invites her anywhere. Even if she can't read him, she'll definitely see how massively their dynamic has shifted- she'll realise just how important she used to be to him.

... And suddenly... she gets the sting of realisation that she'll never see that side of him again.

Red: It depends on how far they are into the relationship. If it's early, he does what Sans pretends to do- he cuts off the romance but remains completely chill with her. Her breaking up with him is the sign his hyper-vulnerable subconscious was looking for to pull his budding feelings for her right out by the roots; now he has the concrete proof he needed that he shouldn't invest his Soul into this. He remains an easygoing, casual friend who's eager to be one with benefits.

If it's later in the relationship... after a long time with one another... if flat out denial that she wants to break up doesn't work, he tries bargaining. He tries promising he'll change, promising everything under the sun in the hopes that she'll stay. He tries begging her not to go. His last-ditch is trying to explain that he loves her, and he doesn't know if he can love anyone else. He can't be alone after he thought he'd never be alone again.

... If all else fails, he pivots to his old friend anger. He thought they were going to be together forever, buy a house, have kids. He genuinely can't handle watching that all slip away from him. He feels like it's all his fault, he fumbled the love of his life; so now she never loved him, now she's a liar, now she's been planning this for months and dragging him along out of pity. Now she's probably cheating- anything he can get his hands on to make it make sense. Nothing can calm him down, not even her, he storms out and gets into vicious fights and spitefully watches the missed texts and calls rack up. He immediately falls back into old addictions- when Papyrus finds him two days later, the stench of whiskey is almost too much.

If we're looking for a silver lining here, it at least brings the brothers closer. Papyrus misses his sister, but he firmly takes Red's side (as he's done his whole life) and wants nothing to do with her anymore. It hurts to watch Red unravel again.

Skull: Skull's concept of a 'relationship' is slightly skewed. He doesn't really understand it, he never has... his mind doesn't work like that, and neither does his idea of love. If he loves her, he loves her, that's all there is to it. Because of that, ironically, there's a chance that Skull would take the breakup the best out of all of them, because to him love is just as sweet regardless of whether they can or can't kiss. He really doesn't care what label is on what they have- if he can still see her, still cuddle her and touch her hair, he doesn't mind. Romantic, platonic, sure, whatever sweetheart says. If she doesn't want to be romantic anymore that's fine. So long as she'll still hold his hand. So long as he can still turn to her when the nightmares are too loud; so long as he can still watch the corners of her eyes crinkle when she smiles.

... There won't, however, be any new lovers.

The thing about Skull is being with him comes with the unspoken agreement that there'll never be anyone else. He's completely attached to her; and now that the affection as gone as deep as it has, no matter what Mc says or how much they talk about it, the sight of anyone else being with her fills him with so much instinctive rage and hatred it just isn't safe. There will be blood.

She can break up with him, sure. That's fine. Whatever sweetheart wants.

But nobody will ever take his place.

#llamagines #angst #red and skull will fight to keep their spot- with varying degrees of success #sans wont #he immediately folds #it hurts so much more to fight and lose anyway #he's going to lose either way right? #might as well lose on his own terms

[thekingofwinterblog]

So just one visual detail about Soul Eater I love and i wonder how many others ever noticed, is the way the series frames Maka and Crona visually.

Crona is way, way taller than Maka.

And even moreso when sitting down, with Chrona's jaw almost reached the height of the top of Maka's head.

But you probably don't remember it that way, and there is a very specific reason for that.

And the reason is because after Crona's heelturn, the show very speciffically frames their shots so where Maka almost always looks like the stronger of the two of them, despite being way smaller.

Crona is very often standing at an angle hunched forward, especially when sitting. Maka by contrast usually stands straightbacked in her full height.

It uses this visual dynamic to showcase and reinforce the idea that Crona is much, much more fragile than Maka... But also that Crona always looks to Maka as a source of strength and support, while Maka is happy being that support.

Even in situations where the Height is shown very, very clearly, Crona always looks to Maka, rather than it feeling like Crona is looking downwards at her.

This framing is so strong that even when Maka is lying on her back paralyzed, and Crona stands over her, it still doesn't give a feeling of Crona looking down at her, but as someone looking to her for approval.

Of course this is just the normal shots that are somewhat easy to miss when not looking for it.

There is also the important stuff, where the show uses this visual contrast and dynamic to great effect.

When Maka finds Crona in the pit, she is framed as big, standing over Crona looking down, because she is the powerful one here, not Crona.

And when we flip around to line more up with Crona's persepctive, though she suddenly becomes smaller in the shot, she still has all the high-ground, Maka is still standing above, looking down, while Crona can't even muster up the courage to look her in the eyes, furthering emphasizing how strong Maka seems in Crona's eyes.

It emphasizes just how weak Crona feels when compared to Maka, who Crona sees as a pillar of strength and bravery.

And when Maka goes down in the pit she grabs Crona by the neck and lifts, literarily holding Crona up through her owns strength while telling Crona to stop giving in to selfhatred and loathing.

And that doesnt change for the entire scene.

Crona doesn't muster the strength to stand, and Maka has to keep Crona standing, first with a closed fist, then two hands around the arms while shaking and asking for confirmation that it was medusa, then in a supporting hug.

Maka is straightbacked and strong, while Crona has to literarily lean on her for support, showcasing Maka's strength and how Crona in turn relies and draws courage from that strength.

And following up on that, every single time when Crona is able to stand up tall, straightbacked and... Well not not exactly proud, but distinctly not looking fragile, are all moments related to doing something brave in relations to Maka.

Standing up to protect her from Giriko, having the bravery to go with her and the rest of the crew to the party, going to confess everything to Shinigami with all the potential consequences that might entail, or my favorite, just standing tall while looking to her final battle with Asura, after having finally grown enough as a person to stand up to Medusa, and taking the Vector blade for Maka.

It's a very understated bit, but when you notice it, it's kinda amazing just how different Crona looks in this moment cimpared to the usual look.

On paper, Crona should look fragile and weak, having just taken a massive wound so the arm is clutching the recently closed injury, a huge, oversized coat over the shoulders, and Marie's hand supporting on Crona's shoulder.

Crona should look weak, but that's not the case.

Crona in this moment actually looks suprisingly powerful, with a straight spine and with the spindly physique hidden by the coat, so you instead focus on the wide shoulders.

In other words, very much like how Maka is able to channel an aura of strength despite a very unimpressive physique and height.

#soul eater anime #soul eater #maka albarn #crona gorgon #meta #camera #perspective

[suga-kookiemonster]

satisfy 05 (teaser)

summary⇢ “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do? pairing⇢ kimline/reader teaser word count⇢ 1k estimated chapter word count⇢ 13k+ rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | escort!au | ceo!au (kinda)

a/n⇢ HELLO!!! i've been slowly working on this for what feels like forever and i can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel 😭 fingers crossed i can post in the next few weeks, but for now i wanted to share a little snippet. as always, subject to change until i do my final edit--HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS IS GONNA BE A DOOZY 😈

You were even planning on putting on a little makeup, on properly doing your hair for the first time in weeks and giving the bun you had been sporting a rest. However, all it took was a knock on your door to put an end to all those extras.

You frowned at the sound and padded over to your front door, happy you had already thrown on a hoodie to keep yourself warm until the festivities properly started. The sight of a familiar man through the peephole, hands resting comfortably in his slacks, threw you off.

Automatically, your hands were disengaging all the locks, were swinging the door open. “You’re early—”

Whatever words you had next immediately dissipated on your tongue. Taehyung was there, but he apparently came with company. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with a perfectly logical reason for why all three Kim brothers were at your doorstep right now.  

“Your hair,” you blurted, your scrambled brain latching onto the easiest subject first.

“Hmm?” Taehyung ruffled his newly dyed locks, the onyx hue a stark difference from the silver you were used to. “Oh yeah, I guess I haven’t seen you all week. My dad wanted me to dye it to a more ‘appropriate’ color before the conference. But whatever. It was time for a change, anyway. And this will be easier to upkeep.”

You could only continue to stare at him as he spoke, your eyes naturally drifting over his shoulder at your additional visitors. 

All three of them were dressed pretty casually, which was normal for Taehyung and Namjoon, but less so for Seokjin when not in the comfort of his own home. The soft pink of his sweatsuit was a stark contrast to the sharp intelligence of his eyes. He met your gaze for only a few seconds before he was turning to meet Namjoon’s instead, a pinch in his brow. 

Taehyung spoke again before either of them could say anything. “You gonna keep us out here?” he teased, casually leaning against the doorframe.

That finally jumpstarted you out of your haze, scrambling to move out of the way and gesture them inside. “Yes, of course. Come in!” Before your nosy neighbor caught them and assumed you were slutting it up.

(She would technically be right, but still. It was the principle. Your life was none of that judgy shrew’s business.) 

Tae strolled in like he always did—like he owned the place—but you noticed his brothers’ strides seemed a bit more hesitant than the confidence you usually got to witness. Namjoon’s mouth was slightly pursed in the way you’d long learned meant he was thinking. Why did they seem as confused as you did?

“Hi,” you hedged anyway, a small, puzzled smile on your lips. “It’s been a while. Sorry if I’m acting weird—I just wasn’t expecting you, so I’m a little thrown off.”

Understanding immediately crossed Seokjin’s features, but you only got a second to see it before he was whipping towards his youngest brother, appalled. 

Namjoon was looking at him too, clearly irritated. “Are you serious, Taehyung?”

“What?” you asked, gaze flitting between the three of them in hope of finding some clarity. 

“You never asked her?” Seokjin snapped.

Namjoon shook his head. “You know that’s not cool, man.”

“Never asked me what?” you cut in, bemused. 

Taehyung, for his part, looked properly contrite. “I’m sorry,” he told the room, before solidly placing his attention back on you. His eyes were soft and sincere. “It truly slipped my mind, and I’m sorry, _____. I didn’t think.”

“When do you ever?” Seokjin snarked, but you ignored him, focused solely on Taehyung.

“What, Tae?” you encouraged gently. “What are you sorry for?”

It was clear from the hunch of his shoulders that he felt bad. “Um…”

“He invited us to come with him to meet you today,” Namjoon supplied. He gave his little brother a disappointed shake of his head. “But that’s not a decision for him to make. Is it, Tae.”

“I just knew that none of us have seen her in a while,” Tae whined. “And _____, when you reached out yesterday, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity since we’re leaving the country for a few weeks.”

“I should have known better,” Seokjin muttered with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry about this, _____. You never marked group activities as a no and I thought Taehyung actually asked you like an adult, so I just assumed you were on board. I can leave.”

You blinked, still trying to grasp what was going on. “You were…trying to share your time?” you asked Taehyung slowly.

He nodded meekly. “I don’t mind sharing,” came his honest answer.

“But does she,” Seokjin scoffed, eyes narrowing in irritation. “That’s the only thing that matters. And to think otherwise is just selfish, Taehyung.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” The words left your lips before your brain could even register them, likely spurred on by how chastened Taehyung looked. The three of them looked at you in surprise.

“It’s okay?” Namjoon parroted, an eyebrow raised in question.

You swallowed, then gave a nod of confirmation. Because you knew Taehyung had never been trying to trap you. One of the qualities that simply made him him was his spontaneity, and while that made him fun and interesting to be around, it also was a double-edged sword that could end up with situations like this.

Tae knew none of them had seen you in a while, he knew they were soon going to jet out of the country, and had simply been trying to be nice in inviting his brothers along. He didn’t mean any harm.

“It’s okay,” you repeated, giving him a reassuring smile that visibly loosened some of the tension in his body. “You can all stay.”

The words settled between the four of you, heavy in the resulting quiet. Teeming with implication. You still weren’t completely sure what you were agreeing to, but what you did know was that you were going to need something to help stave off the nerves slowly bubbling beneath your skin. You cleared your throat, turning to make your way to the kitchen. “I think I need a drink.”

#👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 #fic: satisfy #mine #bae #husband #mr. worldwide #✨kim tag✨ #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

[nath-ryd]

Hey I’m alive - kinda My Dragon Age phase came back so I decided to do my Warden and Alistair. Their story is kinda depressing, because no one needs a happy end - am i right? Hah...oof ________________________________________________ EDIT - I wrote down some facts about my warden - enjoy :) ✧ Diana Cousland has never been one to worry much about responsibility. This reason also made her stand against Duncan when he wanted to recruit her as a Grey Warden, which is why he imposed the Right of Conscription on her. ✧ She doesn't talk openly about her feelings and keeps a lot of things bottled up. She has a tremendous fear of failure and tries to compensate for this by being enormously helpful to others. She never loses her smile, even if it is faked most of the time in order not to burden others. ✧ The first person she revealed her true feelings to was Alistair, who was struggling with loss himself.  ✧ Even though at the beginning of her journey she always seemed to have an open and pure heart, this gradually changes and she becomes more bitter, which is not only noticeable, but also visible, as she loses her usually sweet smile.   ✧ Diana not only loses contact with her closest friends (in this case Leliana) and allies, but also gradually with Alistair, who doesn't know how to deal with her suddenly dismissive nature. He nevertheless tries to defend and support her actions, even though he knows inside that they are mostly wrong. ✧ She has the specialization of the Reaver, which allows her to draw power from dead bodies. This also makes her allies consider her actions, as her greed for power is constantly growing and sees no end. Diana develops more and more a kind of god complex, which she justifies with the fact that Ferelden and eventually the world is dependent on her. ✧ Diana's corrupt deeds and massive consumption of blood making her visibly ill, which is only exacerbated by the side effects of the blood of the dark spawn.   ✧ Remorse quickly catches up with Diana after she realizes how much the person who meant the most to her turns away. The thought of being left alone trumps her, but she can't look back because the damage she caused was too great. This led her to the decision to sacrifice herself in the fight against the Archdemon, in order not to hurt more people than she already did.    ✧ She never threw away Alistair's rose or allowed anything to happen to it, no matter how much she changed, inside there was still faith in something good, even if it was little.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age alistair #dragon age grey warden #grey warden #alistair theirin #da:o #da: origins #da

[gigglebox03]

“It was only a nursery rhyme…”

This is my first scenario. The reader is female and works as Jack’s assistant at the factory.

When Jack asked you to come into his office you weren’t expecting the pie man to become so vulnerable around you.

The serpent sisters had just left his office to find the map to the Wishing Star and as Jack’s assistant it was your job to fulfill his duties even if it meant putting your life at risk.

As you walked in you noticed Jack sitting at his desk with a cold yet almost sad expression on his face. He was filling out paperwork, writing fast and aggressively.

“Mr. Horner? You called for me?” You ask nervously, shifting your weight on one leg.

“Yes…I called for you.” He said quietly and a little soft which was unlike him. “I need you to do me favor and file these documents for me.”

“Ok. Is there anything else you need from me sir?” You were hoping Jack would maybe ask for some comfort or even vent about his problems as you could tell he wasn’t feeling alright.

“Did I stutter?” He asks threateningly.

“No….”

“Good now make with these documents as you should and grab me a pie while you’re at it” He says waving his hand as a way to dismiss you.

However before you walked out of those massive doors you turned around and walked up to Jack which caused him to raise a brow in confusion.

“Yes?” He asks annoyed.

“Mr. Horner, I know I’m only your assistant and I shouldn’t be asking you this but….is everything ok? Ever since the Serpent Sisters left you seem upset…” You say with concern in your voice.

“I’m fine, ok?!” He snaps suddenly. “It’s not your job to care about me or my feelings! Your job is to file these documents like I told you to!”

“Mr. Horner, please….I just…it’s hard seeing you like this…Im not wanting anything in return I just….want to see you happy…”

For some odd reason your comment shocked Jack. His expression changed from rage to confusion. Why would anyone care about his happiness? Was she trying to get something out of him? Maybe blackmail? He didn’t understand but the thought of her actually caring about his feelings, his happiness, made his heart flutter.

“What? I don’t understand. Why do you care??” He asks confused.

“Because you’re my boss and as your assistant it’s my job to fulfill your duties and desires…including your happiness.” You say with a soft yet shy smile.

Jack stares at you in disbelief and a bit of disgust as of how cheesy you just sounded but his heart said otherwise. The big man sighs and looks up at you with a defeated expression.

“They um….they brought up my past…” Was all Jack said.

“What about it?” You ask softly.

“Nothing just…my nursery rhyme…” He says with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

You felt sorry for him. Even if he was a cold hearted villain he was still capable of having feelings. You place your hand on his large one which caught him off guard.

“It’s ok…even you were a nursery rhyme I still think you’re a great, powerful boss. I mean how many can say they’ve collected over 100 magical artifacts and own the world’s largest pie business?” You say smiling which Jack just moves his hand away from yours. He wasn’t the type for affection…even if he secretly wanted it.

You sigh and get up from your seat, making your towards the door.

“I’ll get your documents filed and your pie while I’m at it…” You say a little disappointed however just before you walk out of his office you turn to look at him with a shy smile.

“And Mr. Horner?”

He looks up at you waiting for a response, his face now annoyed.

“I think you’re a pretty cute nursery rhyme…” You say blushing before walking out of his office, leaving the pie man dumbfounded and a blushing mess.

Hope you guys enjoyed this! This was my first time actually writing out a scenario for Jack so I’m nervous to see how others respond to this 😅 If you have any suggestions please let me know!

#jack horner x reader #jack horner simp #fluff #drabble

[atom-writings]

Can I request something for China x reader? Yao has a crush on the reader, and he finds out that they're obsessed with pandas, and he takes Y/N to see and hug some pandas. Afterward, Y/N asks Yao if this was a date because they've had a crush on him for a long time.

Did I mention that I love pandas?

hetalia china taking reader to a panda sanctuary

1.1k words ~ gender neutral scenario

tw: none!

a/n: dont hug pandas in real life ): they are bears.

Yao was a man prone to overzealous spending and trips. The entire time you had known him, he'd been in and out of every country, indulging in extravagant expenses and experiences. It was hard not to become a little jealous, at some points, but he always made sure to buy something to send to you back at home. Sometimes golden jewellery and sweet perfumes, but most of the time, it was something related to pandas.

You had always loved pandas, a trait Yao loved. Pandas were always important to him and his culture, so he appreciates being around someone who appreciates them just as much as he does. It's stupid in retrospect, but he has to admit it's partly why he became so attached so fast.

The moment Yao showed you your ticket to Beijing, flying on his own private jet, you were like you were in a dream. You'd lived such a modest life, and now you were being given this opportunity for what? For being Yao's... well, Yao's something? That's it? It was almost guilt-inducing.

Now, a couple of days later, sitting in an expansive panda enclosure felt even more like a dream. Yao had always been given special privileges for some unknown reason, but this must be crossing some line somewhere.

But how are you supposed to think about anything when you're surrounded by pandas?

The instructor had given Yao a whole spiel before you two entered, but it wasn't like you could understand a single thing she had said. He chose to translate the entire speech very simply, ”Don't be mean, don't get too rough, don't pet them too much, and back off when something seems wrong.“

Simple enough. She didn't say anything about hugging them then.

As soon as you entered the enclosure, one panda immediately took to you two. Her name was simply Yangguang, and she was easily one of the cutest there.

She was a tad younger, around 4 years old, and still perfectly fluffy and chubby. Her eyes were like buttons, her pouched stomach barely hidden by her stubby legs, and her mouth permanently curled into a smile.

Although the other pandas bristled when they saw you and Yao, Yangguang had no problem being loved and hugged. Sure, her fur wasn't as soft as you wished it was, but it still felt like hugging a massive stuffed animal.

Like heaven on earth, she even leaned against you, basking in your unprompted affection. It was then that two more huge pandas lumbered up to you. Now you had three, adorable bears chirping at you, presumably wanting food.

As you pet them, all Yao could do was watch. He'd been here plenty of times, so it's not like he was desperate to hug them like you were. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, seeing you have a good time made him just as happy as those pandas made you.

After about 30 minutes of overwhelming panda affection, including getting to watch them munch on some bamboo like the giant cuties that they are- Yao told you that your time was up.

So you were forced to dejectedly leave Yangguang alone in the forest once again, following behind Yao as the zookeeper went on and on about who knows what. It's always difficult to focus after a life-changing experience, and cuddling pandas for the first time definitely counts as that.

Eventually, the zookeeper leaves the two of you to your devices, and the overlook you were standing on is suddenly deserted except for Yao. Now it was quiet, except for the soft sounds of birds and distant crunching of grass under the panda's paws.

Looking over the enclosure, you were suddenly struck by how beautiful it was. The grass was a vibrant green, contrasted against the slender trees, all along the backdrop of a scenic valley. Mountains rose high above the two of you, almost giving you vertigo as you gazed upon the cloudy peaks.

”Do you like it here?“ Yao asks softly, looking over at you instead of the stunning surroundings.

”Yeah, it's- I don't know how to describe it. It's incredible. Thank you for taking me here, Yao. Really,” You respond quickly.

“You're always welcome back,”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course! Say the word and I'll bring you here. I promise.“

You break out into a wide smile, your eyes crinkling in the corners just the way Yao loved.

”You know, the lady said that Yangguang hasn't found a mate yet,“ He said after a peaceful moment.

”Really? Nobody?“

”Yes, it's very strange. No boys has shown any interest in her. Normally it's the other way around.”

That made you stay quiet even longer, thinking of all the failed romances of your past. Hurt, over and over again, and for what?

Every time you have feelings for someone, something goes wrong. That's why... that's why you and Yao were stuck in this uncomfortable stalemate. Maybe he knew your feelings, and that's why he's doing this. To let you down easy. Or maybe... it was something more?

“How could no one like her? She's so nice and cute,” You remark halfheartedly.

Yao, turns to you, leaning on the railing, ”That is what I was thinking.“

It was hard not to notice his cheeky smile, looking not unlike a panda himself.

“What?” You were forced to ask.

“I know another person who is nice and cute and yet doesn't think anyone likes them either,”

You felt your stomach drop a little, looking at him nervously. You took a deep breath, and asked, “Are you talking about me?”

Yao smiles, this time gently, ”Of course.“

All you can do is scoff and turn back to the enclosure, face just a little bit flushed. The silence between you two became deafening, drowning out the sounds of the forest.

After what seemed like forever, you were startled by the feeling of Yao's soft hand over yours.

”Will you be my Yangguang?“

You spun to face him, shocked at the question.

”What?“

He only smiled wider, “Will you be with me?”

“R-Romantically?” You sputter out, not believing your ears.

“What else?” He asks incredulously.

“I- Well- I- Yes!” You stutter.

Yao breathes out a sigh of relief, visibly deflating. He reaches out to brush aside a strand of your hair, looking at you just as you had looked at Yangguang earlier.

“Was this a good way to ask?”

“It was perfect.”

“Good. That's what you deserve. Perfection.”

#heta tag #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #aph china x reader #hws china x reader #yao tag

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

alright: baby's first AITA

AITA for not standing up to my dad for my mom?

So, a little bit of backstory: I (20NB) currently live away from my parents because I'm pursuing a work placement. I haven't seen my parents in a couple of months because of said work placement.

My mom at the beginning of June expressed wanting me to drive home for the Canada Day weekend (I live around 4 hours away), but I said that I did not want to. I gave half-truthful reasons to spare my mom and she seemed to take it as well as I hoped she did at the time - the actual reasons were that a) hanging around my parents has genuinely been awful because I'm closeted (and their homophobic/transphobic remarks are a real struggle to hear without me throwing hands), and b) without disclosing too much, I had kind of a traumatic experience related to divorce on Canada Day when I was a preteen, and so my mental health always takes a big dip around this time. I didn't want to bog my mom down too much with these reasons, especially the second one, so I avoided saying these outright.

Cut to the Friday evening right before Canada Day, my mom suddenly texted me to say that the whole family was coming over to my place the next day. I immediately became upset and sent (admittedly) passive-aggressive messages demanding why she didn't tell me sooner. She said my dad suddenly said that morning that they were going to come over, to which my anger quickly redirected to him because a) he did not tell me beforehand about any of this and I saw it as a massive breach of boundaries, and b) the fact that my mom texted me about it meant that he was never going to tell me anyways. So I sent him a polite but strongly worded message that basically boiled down to "I'm still okay with having the family over, but jsyk I'm extremely upset that you didn't tell me about this". His response was to immediately call off the trip, which to me was a sudden load off my shoulders. But then my mom texted and called me, upset, because she was actually excited to visit me and she was really happy that my dad was willing to go (he's the only one that can drive aside from me), but it was my text that changed his mind. My dad's always had a problem with this kind of spontaneous planning and has been a sore spot between him and my mom for years now - he doesn't really respect my mom, and my mom has to depend on me and my sibling to get him to change his mind and it irritates the hell out of me that she has to in the first place - but this time it actually benefited me.

I've been feeling really guilty about not fighting the Canada Day trip harder than I should have. I respect my mom way more than my dad and I genuinely would have liked to see her; it's just that they picked a very unfortunate time to visit. I've actually come half-clean to my mom about why I didn't want them to visit (the divorce thing, I am still very unprepared to explain the other reason in the case that I have to come out to her) and she was understanding of it but still upset. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[lutiaslayton]

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　０６

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

＊ “The Eternal Kingdom”

All throughout the opera, I could not take my eyes off Janice Quatlane, who played the role of the Queen. It was the first time I saw her in action, and her costume made her look stunning. That white dress and crown suited her so well. She radiated some dignified nobility, with her uplifted cheeks and her big, lively, shining eyes…

And above all else, her beautiful singing voice, which descended from the heavens at the same time as my gaping mouth…

Miss Janice was not just playing as the Queen of Ambrosia. She seemed to be the Queen herself.

No wonder the people of the kingdom swore respect and loyalty to the Queen, I thought as I recalled how the legend started.

“Luke, look over here,” the professor whispered in my ear. “This is the Detragan, an instrument that Oswald Whistler created recently. I heard rumours saying that one person alone could create with it a sound on the same scale and depth as an entire orchestra, but this goes beyond my expectations. It’s really beautiful.”

It was only when he started speaking to me that I was able to detach my attention from Janice.

Looking in the direction he was pointing to me, I had to admit that the Detragan was the strangest instrument I had ever seen. In some ways, it reminded me of a pipe organ; but in terms of size and the massive tone it gave, it was unlike any instrument I had ever seen.

The way the pipe ends were spreading out with the melody… It was as if the Detragan itself had a life of its own.

Meanwhile, Mr Whistler’s expression and vigour as he played all alone was rather uncanny.

Still, my gaze soon went back to Janice, as I was drawn in by her voice once again.

“It’s Janice who is beautiful, Professor…”

I gave a small sigh. I felt so happy in this moment… Even the great mystery of the eternal life had completely left my mind. I wanted to hear the Queen of Ambrosia sing forever.

When the opera came to an end, I was the first to jump out of my seat and give a hearty round of applause.

“Bravo!”

But, strangely enough… Only the professor did the same.

All the other spectators sat in silence, immobile. The air in the theatre was heavy.

“Professor, why aren’t they clapping…?”

Suddenly, the lights went down and the theatre fell once more into complete obscurity. A single spotlight illuminated the stage where Miss Janice had been singing earlier.

Inside the circle of light, stood a lone masked man.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Crown Petone Theatre.”

Every move of that man, who was dressed in a harlequin-like costume, was overly theatrical and exaggerated, giving a terribly eerie impression.

“You are all very lucky. Very lucky indeed. For tonight, we shall witness a miracle.”

I was overtaken by surprise when an ovation suddenly erupted from all over the place.

“Bravo!”

“At last, we can see the main performance.”

“I swear, this was designed to make us sleepy.”

From everywhere around us, the voices of the audience were enthusiastically welcoming the masked man. He responded to all this applause with another exaggerated gesture.

“And now… as it was promised to you all when you bought your tickets, one of you here will be gifted eternal life.”

“Eternal life!?” I shouted out in shock, looking up at the professor right after.

“It appears that we were the only ones not in the know, Luke.”

Like the gentleman he was, he had remained calm and went back to sit down in silence. I followed his lead; after all, I am his apprentice number one. I couldn’t just wallow in this sort of thing.

Still, my mind was clouded with my confusion. I had not expected the puzzle of Eternal Life to appear before us so quickly.

My heart wasn’t ready yet for this. What on Earth was going to happen now? That masked man, who could it possibly be?

“However, there is one condition,” he continued.

“A condition…?”

Someone in the audience had just repeated his words, as if to echo everyone else’s thoughts.

“We invite you all to take part in a certain game. Eternal life shall be gifted to the winner; as for the others… their ‘lives’ will have to be the gift.”

Immediately, the audience began to murmur.

“Give our lives…? What is he talking about?”

The masked man continued with his tale, undisturbed.

“If you want to obtain a miracle from this world, you should all be ready to pay the price…”

“Eternal life or instant death… It can only be one or the other. Is this what he means?” a glamorous middle-aged woman said huffily.

Many other spectators were pale and horrified.

“This has to be a prank! They never said anything about this!”

A bearded man in a strange hat exclaimed in a very loud voice: “I only have half a year left to live, so that’s good for me. Game or no game, I’m happy to be here!”

Some members of the audience were reminded once again that this was not a dream, but that all of this was really happening. This eternal life was not going to be available unless they were prepared to give their own life.

“I— I’m going home! Let me go home! Now!”

A woman in the audience chose to make her disapproval heard, and her scream triggered a whirlwind of panic in the theatre. Many stood up from their seats and hurried to the passageway. They pushed each other out of the way, heading for the exit. Resounding screams, yells and angry voices, all filled the back of the room…

And then, one by one, the actors who had been until now playing the roles of the kingdom’s people on stage removed their costumes, revealing that they all carried weapons in their hands.

They surrounded the spectators who were trying to escape. The next moment, part of the theatre floor seemed to have given way, and every single one of these spectators disappeared into the abyss.

It had all taken place in an instant. Only their screams trailed off and lingered inside the theatre… though only for a bit. Soon, silence returned.

I couldn’t move.

“P-Professor!”

He dashed towards the stage. Without a second thought, I followed right behind him.

A man ran past us and made it first. Wait, this was…

A massive chest… A solid pompadour… No doubt, he was…

“I am Inspector Grosky, of Scotland Yard!”

He jumped on stage, and in a flash, he had already twisted the masked man around and cuffed his wrist, keeping the other end of the handcuffs around his own.

“I had heard that a shady deal was going to take place at the Crown Petone Theatre, and so I had decided to attend while undercover. But I was far from expecting this to be a trade using lives!”

The inspector took out his police badge with a practised hand, showed it around, then put it back in his jacket again. As soon as he turned to the audience, he shouted as loudly as a stage actor:

“Everyone, you are all good to go. The criminal has just been apprehended by Inspector Grosky of the Yard!”

Now that he was in the spotlight, he proudly boasted his achievement, with his chest protruding even further than usual.

“Inspector, are you sure this is the case?”

I think the inspector did not appreciate that the professor’s words had interrupted his moment of triumph.

“What the— Is that you, Layton?”

“It has been a while.”

The inspector looked down at me. “And you must be…”

He remembered me. We had first met during the ‘Specter’s Flute’ incident in Misthallery.

“I’m Luke Triton,” I responded.

At that moment, the masked man’s hand suddenly twitched. Then his entire body went limp… limp… limp… The way he moved was not human. It sent shivers down my spine.

“What on Earth—!?”

The masked man’s body then began to swell and expand, like a balloon.

The inspector’s eyes widened in horror. “A-a puppet!?”

Meanwhile, the theatre was hit by strong vibrations. There was another scream in the hall, but one much deeper than before. This scream was made of cracking noises, getting louder and louder…

I looked straight up with a start when I found the origin of that sound.

“Professor, the ceiling!”

Through some sort of unseen mechanism, the sections of the theatre making up its ceiling opened up one by one, slowly revealing the night sky. The professor was just as shocked when he saw.

At that moment… The masked man had completely turned into some sort of mixture between a puppet and a balloon, and Inspector Grosky floated in the air, swept alongside it, since they were still handcuffed together.

“Inspector!”

The professor and I rushed to catch him, but he rose up into the air too quickly. The next moment, the balloon collided with the pointy end of a chandelier, and was pierced. With the force of the gases that rushed out from the tear, the inspector and the puppet both flew around at high speed… and quickly disappeared into the expanding night sky.

As the professor’s face contorted in regret, a deep laugh suddenly echoed throughout the whole theatre. It was the same voice that had pretended to be the puppet. I could see it now… The puppet had just been a decoy, but the one hiding behind it was very real.

His voice rang out happily, as if the opera had never ended, and he were announcing the beginning of a new act.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, let us sail along the path to eternal life!”

Sail…?

Once again the theatre shook violently, and screams filled the area.

“Luke!”

“Yes!”

The professor and I rushed out of the theatre. When I opened the door and jumped out to the front, the sight was so unexpected that I screamed.

The bridge connecting the Crown Petone to the coast was just about to collapse with a roar.

There was some more rumbling… and the last debris fell into the sea, one stone at a time.

This was no longer a theatre. The building sped up, glided over the sea, and started rapidly moving away from land.

The professor couldn’t help but mumble in shock: “The theatre…”

“It turned into a giant ship!”

I never thought that this beautiful theatre was actually meant to move across the sea like this!

I could only stare at the coastline, which was getting smaller and smaller. Soon, several other spectators came out of the hall, which had now become the deck of the ship, and stared in stunned panic at the sea that was surrounding us.

“Oh my God…”

These had been the words of the man who claimed earlier that he only had six months left to live.

“I can’t believe it…”

And this had come out of the mouth of an old man who was dressed like the captain of a luxury ship. Indeed, he seemed to be at a loss regarding what he should do.

At that moment, a muscular young man jumped onto the deck railing.

“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?”

The woman who stopped him from jumping was gorgeous. She looked to be quite well-off, perhaps to the point that she could afford to go out watching operas every day.

“I’ll just dive and swim to the shore!” the man replied to her.

I wondered if he could be some sort of athlete, with the energy and ease he showed when he jumped on the railing…

“That would not be a wise course of action.”

As he said this, the professor pointed down below. Around us, the sea was teeming with sharks. They were deliberately circling the Crown Petone, coveting their prey.

“I never thought that sharks would enter the waters around here, this rarely ever happens…”

The old captain who had said this twisted his neck so he could see.

So these sharks had been released into these waters on purpose? To stop us from escaping…?

All of this had been carefully prepared from the start, in meticulous detail. Once again, I felt a chill run down my spine.

At that moment, the sea breeze brought a song to my ears.

A song…? At a time like this?

But soon, it became inaudible. I wondered if it was just my imagination…

With this in mind, I followed the professor back inside the theatre.

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

#professor layton #layton's book club #luke triton #hershel layton #eternal diva #eternal diva novel #translation #professor layton and the eternal diva

[ancientevangelions]

Hello! I'm new here! Just the other day I was going through the AsuShin tag, found your fics, and loved them! I also spent some time reading your thoughts and theories. Which brings me to ask, how do you perceive the changes and (lack of) relationship between Asuka and Shinji from Evangelion, EoE and Rebuild?

Specifically regarding Rebuild, I found it disheartening how they set Shinji and Asuka aside so easily. I'm not talking strictly nor only about shipping. I grew up watching the 90s Evangelion. And a big part of the story and its exploration of psychological themes and characters's psychology and motivation was Shinji's relationship with Asuka. Most of all in EoE, which, to me, is the ending I find most fitting.

It was dreadful to watch the redone beach sequence where Shinji thanks Asuka for admitting she used to like him, then him saying he used to like her back. Only for them to have that "everything is suddenly happy now" ending. This sequence seems to discredit most of the themes and sacrifices made in the original story, and does not satisfactorily brings their story to a close, but instead seem to try to brush it aside or bypass it somehow. Again, I do ship AsuShin but my grievance has much more to do with the way Rebuild handled them, I don't think in a story like Evangelion we could ever have had hopes of them living happily ever after or even be together necessarily

Hello!

Thanks for being here. I wanted to answer this as thoughtfully as I could! Asuka and Shinji are definitely a complicated pair. Regardless of shipping, they require care and attention to understand.

In NGE/EoE, the focus of the series is on their interactions, especially with the End of Evangelion. Episode 9 onward is focused primarily on the interactions between Asuka and Shinji, their highs and lows, the back and forth and their eventual downfalls. I always find it funny how people are highly critical of the interactions between the kids. From my memory of high school/being a teen (2004 to 2009 mostly), it was very much like this. A lot of back-and-forth denial of feelings and messiness trying to avoid pain, not wanting to speak your feelings due to embarrassment, and a lack of knowledge on consent or anything romantic or sexual. It all was a very realistic portrayal of my teen years, primarily because of the depression and mental illness (spoken as an undiagnosed mentally ill teen).

The realism with Asuka and Shinji and the non-linear progression/recovery felt extremely important to me. It was evident that they had a massive attraction to one another. Still, they fell into the trap I had in my youth of being unsure how to communicate my feelings without being rejected or experiencing pain. Even without romantic or sexual feelings, Shinji and Asuka live together, attend school, and work together. They are often abandoned by Misato at home alone, left to their own devices. They are two kids competing to see who can grow up faster. They have a compelling dynamic because they are so messy! In NGE, we see their ups and downs, learning about each other, fighting together and building trust, kindness, rude words, misunderstanding, poor communication, etc.

I love End of Evangelion. I don't need to see what happens after Asuka returns; I know now Yui was telling the truth that anyone can return when they are ready. Of course, it would be Asuka next after Shinji; their destinies are intertwined. She has every right to show him compassion AND to still be angry after all he did to her. The point of the ending scene is that there is love and affection in the world, but it's not forced; it's not a given; it's realistic. No one owes you anything, not love, not compassion, but when we choose to be kind, how amazing is that? Asuka and Shinji can continue to learn, grow and survive together. There is hope; they can be happy, but they must rebuild, work together, and try to find that happiness. 

Rebuild of Evangelion is so Shinji-centric at times it feels like it doesn't care about anyone else's motivations or backstory. Rebuild disappointed me so much with its focus on cinematic fights over substance. Rebuild also falls into the trap of forcing a perfect happy ending, which is unrealistic and annoying. Real change is messy and takes effort, years and years of action, and instead, we find perfection in imperfection. It's okay and expected if everything doesn't go exactly as planned. Rebuild needs more focus. It's evident that there was no overarching plan for the 4 films and that they underwent rewrites and delays for years. Of course, ideas would change. It took years to finish the series. It went from "Evangelion for new fans, a retelling that doesn't require you to watch NGE" to "The action sequences are good; let's make money off of sexualized children."

A lot of the AsuShin content is added on later in canon bonus material later added to 3.0 + 1.0 to clear up misconceptions about the relationships. It's subtle, and it feels tacked on. Shinji spends so little on-screen time with any of the characters that we don't get the same interactions, world-building, or character development and the flatness of the characters bothers me so much. What are their motivations? "Well, he cooked for her, so she likes him." Okay… that seems flimsy since she spends all her time alone, and he spends all his time alone… 

Shikinami might as well be 14, screaming that she is an adult now. For all the ways she has changed between 2.0 and 3.0, stewing in her anger doesn't seem very adult. The children telling us they are adults really doesn't convince me. The time skip accomplished nothing as no one reflected on 14 years passing in a realistic way. Shinji didn't grieve lost time or grapple with being an adult in a child's body. The deus ex machina at the end might have been "And then Shinji woke up, and Wonderland was gone" or "Asuka clicked her red heels and said there's no place like home."

Pixar films are popular because "Life doesn't always go according to plan, but you can still find happiness in the mess of life." The idea is that things are imperfect, and we make the most of what we have. Sometimes, what we want is different from what we need. Rebuild fails to capture this and instead falls into a trap I see in YA novels where the epilogue is much too neat. We see ourselves in the characters, and we identify with the struggle, but then the ending is too tidy. The protagonist gets a hetero-normative end with children and a picket fence and marries one of the love interests introduced early on. The protagonist becomes unrelatable to us because they fall into complacency where they have a 9 to 5 job and do nothing to better anything after the "fall of the tyrant." To quote The Who with their song Won't Get Fooled Again: "Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss." How can we, who are struggling daily for our survival and happiness, find the changing of one problem to be satisfactory in solving all issues? No more Evas, cool, but now he is under capitalism which we all know SUCKS. Sounds perfect, Shinji. Thanks for making your lives miserable in a new way. Trapped in wage labour sounds excellent. 

That's why I'm not a fan of "happy" endings. I only need some of the problems solved. I want to see work to build a new world. In the Rebuild ending, I dream of Asuka and Shinji working side by side to rebuild cities, prevent new child soldiers and be active in a community that fears them. We don't need a dream of paradise. We need hope that WE can make a difference, too. 

#shinji ikari #neon genesis evangelion #rebuild of evangelion #evangelion #asuka langley shikinami #asuka langley #asuka langley soryu #theory and analysis #short essay #anon ask

[miles-and-waylon]

A Betrayal of the Worst Kind

Camerashipping and fluff, what could be better?

Miles ‘punishing’ Waylon and Lisa’s of no help.

-

Being on the run and trying to take down a major corrupt corporation with near infinite resources take a toll on a man. Waylon kept his mind away from his stint at Mount Massive by working. Lisa was the one keeping them up on personal maintenance (and driving a majority of the time), Miles handled the execution of dangerous ideas (given the fact he was already dead), and Waylon was the planner.

He was almost always on his laptop, a laptop protected by a motherload of security measures as he’d learned to use after getting caught that first time. He only stopped for long when it came to eating and sleeping, and when one of his partners got fed up and forced a break.

In another cheap motel found on some highway in the middle of nowhere, with Lisa out getting food from the gas station next door, Miles smacked his laptop shut just after he saved his newest project. Before he could even complain, he was laid out across the couch, hips straddled by his dangerous captor.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Waylon tried to protest, squirming as his death-cold grip tugged up his shirt. “Bad time! What if Lisa walks in?”

“I mean, the last time she walked in on us, she seemed quite happy with what she was seeing. Did you really tuck a t-shirt into a pair of sweatpants? You’re such a geek it’s painful.”

Waylon bucked up his hips, kicked his legs, tried to swat away his hands—all to no avail. He proved absolutely terrible in a struggle when his life wasn’t on the line. “Are you judging how I wear pajamas? Are you kidd—“ Miles fingers came in contact with his stomach, nails dragging down against his skin. Immediately, the pinned man turtled into himself.

“I was curious, you know, at our last stop. I brushed up against your side, and you jumped juuust enough for me to notice, and you said that I scared you!”

“Miles—“

“Ah-ah! You said that, but I’ve seen how you startle. That wasn’t it. I’m still a journalist, Way. A bored journalist! When I think I’ve been lied to, that’s when my gears get working.” He wore the most evil grin, contrasting with Waylon’s suddenly wide, terrified eyes. He scribbled slowly, teasingly across exposed flesh. “Did you lie? Did I really startle you?”

“Miles,” he began again, voice wavering. Waylon twisted to press his face into the dusty couch cushion beside him. “Really? A-are you held up on a lit…” He paused to swear. It was the only way to keep a giggle from getting out right then. “…little thing like that? I don’t even remember it!” Journalist or not, who would realistically be able to tell a startled flinch from having sensitive sides?

“Well, honestly, I only remembered it because I basically have nothing to do right now. Doesn’t change that you lied. You lied, and you’ve been neglecting me. I think that’s worthy of a little punishment, don’t you?” Then he found those sensitive sides to attack in earnest.

“Wait! Wait, wait—!” God, then the *buzzing* started. There was no point trying to resist after that. His brief exposure to the engine was still enough to make poor Waylon more receptive to sensing the Walrider’s presence, and he’d be damned if the sudden hum of nanites against his body wasn’t an abuse of power! He broke out into sweet, bubbly laughter, unsure if he should try to protect himself or keep trying to push him away.

Then came a glimmer of hope.

Lisa came through the door right then, plastic bags full of food and much-needed toiletries hanging from her arms. She quickly realized she arrived to a scene of chaos. Her expression turned into curiosity and bemusement.

“Lisa!” Waylon gasped. He threw his arm out towards her in a pleading gesture. “Lisa, help me! Please!”

To his horror, as she realized what was going on, her look twisted into a traitorous smile. “You gotta go lower,” she advised. “Get his hips. He can’t take it. It’s adorable.”

Was this the woman he married? One so willing to throw him under the bus like that? His shock was interrupted by Miles gleefully following her instructions. Laughter turned to mirthful, unmanly squeaks and squeals echoing across the walls of the room.

“Let me put away what I got for us, then I’ll come help.” She better mean help him! “It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to see him like this.” Apparently not.

He was doomed.

#camerashipping #miles upshur #waylon park #lisa park #outlast fanfiction #I had a need for them

[marchtooctober]

This fic happens after they everyone gets back inside. I was supposed to post this after chapter 90's release but I was busy with my internship so I couldn't finish it in time. A longer note will follow at the bottom of fic. Thanks and happy reading!! 💕

Clothes to Wear for Another Decade

The Forgers have been helping their new neighbors, the Authens, unpack their luggage and arrange their belongings. Loid moved and opened the boxes while Yor dusted the shelves and cleaned all over the dirty nooks. Bond lazily lied after the tiring adventure of a walk. Anya and Mr. Authens are engaged in a more or less coherent chat about housewares and zoology.

“Should we open this up?” Yor asked, carrying a massive trunk with no difficulty.

“As for that one… I can't remember what's inside. Can you please open it?” Mrs. Authen said, trying to recall its content.

“Okay.”

Yor did as requested and clothes of unfamiliar style and colors emerged. Dresses with puffed sleeves and capes, pleated skirts, wide-legged pants, vests, flat caps, suspenders, pinstripe suits, knitted tops and many more. Mrs. Authen's expression turned bright as she grabbed some.

“It's our old clothes! Now I remember! It would be a shame to leave them behind so we had to bring some of them.” She delightfully said.

Anya and Mr. Authen joined them in rummaging through the colorful pile. 

“How nice to see these again. Look at that! It's my Sunday favorite, and this one too from one of our dates.” Mr. Authen held up some oddly paired baggy trousers and sweaters.

“I used to wear these for parties.” Mrs. Authen took her flapper dresses with elaborate patterns.

Anya held up several items out of curiosity.

“Will Becky approve these long thingies?” She thought out loud.

Mrs. Authen smiled and turned to Yor and Loid.

“Come and choose anything you'd like to try!"

"But we still have to-" Yor started.

"Don't be shy, dear! Here, this. Try this. And this one, that one too! Your mister can surely take care of himself, isn't that right?" The woman turned to Yor and Loid.

Suddenly, they were too stunned to speak. As if it was their first time to be identified as husband and wife.

"Uhm…"

"Oh? Aren't you two wedded?"

"Uh- Y-Yes, ma'am! We're already married. Last year. Anya is my child with my late wife who passed away." Loid was so taken aback by the question that it caused him to stutter.

"Is that so, dear? But what a nice family, you all are."

"Well… Thank you, ma'am."

Mrs. Authen continued searching through the folded items until she got her hands on a large fabric. She unfolded it and showed a set of baggy top with and pleated skirt. Underneath is another set of plain shirt with suspenders and wide-legged pants. The colors have already faded a little but the fabrics are barely damaged.

"I think these will look good on both of you."

"But we can't-" Loid started but the old lady spoke again.

"Please, It'll be very nice to see you wear our clothes just this once. Won't you grant this old woman's favor?"

They became fidgety and couldn't stare at anyone at all.

"O-Okay… We will try them on." Yor said shyly.

To shield himself from embarrassment and scrutinizing gazes, he took the clothes and went into one of the rooms to get changed. Yor did the same and went to another room. It did not take long before they both stepped out.

"My, my, it really suits you!" Barbara said in delight.

"Really, they do. Just like us when we were younger." Her husband added.

“Mama and Papa look like people from old movies.”

Loid and Yor could not help but blush in embarrassment and smile awkwardly. It simply felt different. Because they are donning the old couple's clothes.

“How do they fit?” Mrs. Authen asked.

“It fits just right. But I was scared that I might damage the skirt so I had to adjust it a little.” Yor said, scanning the clothes for damage.”

“And you?”

“The shirt fits me but the pants seem a little bit short for me.” Loid replied while adjusting the suspenders.

Mr. And Mrs. Authen couldn't help but pour compliments and tell them stories of old, the memories that were stitched on the clothes.

"Oh dear… you look so good in our dress. Why don't you keep it?" Mrs. Authen suddenly asked.

"Hm-?! Keep?! But we can't accept this ma'am…" Yor immediately said in surprise.

"I think so too, Mrs. Authen. We think your family should be the one wearing these. I believe they'll treasure it more dearly." Loid added.

"Could it be that you don't want it because it doesn't suit your taste? Then we can just go to the tailor for something nice." Mr Authen said.

"N-No, sir! We assure you, it's not! We simply think that we don't deserve your beloved items." Loid reasoned with a smile.

He started worrying that they offended the couple for rejecting but he was surprised when Mrs. Authen took his hand.

"You know, son," The old lady started as she also took Yor's hand and placed it with Loid's.

The physical touch that was shared did nothing as much as what the rest of Mrs. Authen's words did to them.

"These clothes gave us good memories for a long time. I hope that they'll do the same for you too."

Loid and Yor only smiled. It was only in an instant but their gazes crossed. Their countenance showed half-torn cheerfulness. If anything, the words caused a sudden pang of bitterness to Loid.

Loid doesn't know what's in Yor's mind but for him, they are unworthy of such a pure gesture. It wasn't only because they are not a real couple. They are simply bound by the benefits of a fake relationship with no lasting commitment on his end. It's unspoken but he knows it very well.

Good clothes for good memories.

The uncertainty of the future was enough to keep them from accepting such prized possession. Loid knew that the Forger family would not last long enough for such clothes to be worn a dozen times.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

I hope you enjoyed this little fic of mine. Actuallyyy,, this is pretty much a by-product of my rainy day fic that i posted some time ago. That fic was supposed to be longer because Loid and Yor were supposed to be taken in by an old couple that runs a boutique shop for vintage items (their old items). And because Loid and Yor are rain-drenched, the old couple will give them clothes.

But since there were still no elderly couple in the manga back then and of course with my laziness and distaste for carelessly naming my OCs, I cut off the said fic as i have posted. You can go ahead and read it if you're interested 🥰🥰.

So ever since i posted that fic, I've been waiting for old characters to be introduced in the manga and finally chapter 90 came. We now have Mr. and Mrs. Authen!!! 🤩🤩🤩 I'm so glad that i put this fic off until the right time comes. And now I'm sharing this with you.

#spy x family #spy x family manga #spy x family fanfic #sxf fic #sxf drabble #fanfic #loid forger #yor forger #barbara authen #sigmund authen #mr. and mrs. authen #ahwww finally posted something after a long time