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just-jordie-things · 1 month

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[part two] we weren’t just friends - okkotsu yuuta

word count: 11k warnings: swearing, drinking (but it’s legal!), mentions of masturbating summary: two idiots that are bad at confrontation and don’t want things to be awkward somehow make things awkward anyways. more info: college!au, aged up characters, roommates!au, childhood friends, n*oya makes an appearance in this part, soft yuuta taking care of drunk reader

part two: “i’m not ready, eyes heavy now” ___

[mai] : do you want me to come kidnap you? just say we have plans

[maki] : you don’t need to kidnap her. she’s a big girl. She can handle talking about her feelings. can’t you, (y/n)?

[(y/n)] : no i don’t think i can :’( pls come rescue me, idk what to do.

[mai] : maki where are the keys i’m going over there

[maki] : the fuck you are, stay away from my car.

[maki] : i say this with love, (y/n). get out of bed and just talk to him. it’s not like you boned. A little kissing never hurt anyone. your friendship is stronger than that, don’t you think?

[(y/n)] : …it was a lot of kissing…

[mai] : did he get a boner?

[maki] : you’ve been friends a long time. and he kissed you back, didn’t he? he probably enjoyed it.

[(y/n)] : i think he enjoyed it… idk… i’m rlly embarrassed about it.

[mai] : if he got a boner he enjoyed it.

[maki] : ur being gross :p

[(y/n)] : but what if he just got carried away and it didn’t mean anything and he’s upset with me?

[maki] : did he say he was upset with you?

[(y/n)] : … no.

[mai] : he’s probs pent up now. you should seduce him again.

[maki] : then all this talk is pointless. go TALK to him and then if it’s bad we’ll come swoop you up and take you out for the day. deal?

[(y/n)] : bed is comfy… and safe…

[mai] : and if we don’t hear from u we’ll assume u seduced him again

[maki] : you got this :)

(y/n) sighed as she turned off her phone, dropping it onto her mattress as she glared up at her ceiling. The light from the sun had long since poured in through the window, having woken her up hours ago. She wasn’t surprised to see so many texts in her groupchat with the Zen’in twins after Toge blabbed about what he thought he saw when he returned to the apartment late last night.

Normally she would’ve ignored their pestering and turned down any assumptions they may have made. But she needed advice from her closest friends on what to do now. She had yet to leave the safety of her bedroom, knowing Yuuta would be awake and going about his morning routine. Maybe it was silly to be afraid of running into him, but her shame kept her shackled to the bed.

Maki was right, it wasn’t fair to assume how Yuuta would behave today. It was a discredit to the years of friendship under their belts. But then again, making out in a sudden moment of weakness was a blunder on their friendship, too.

Dramatically, she rolled over, planting her face in her pillow and groaning out her frustrations.

When she finally made an appearance, Yuuta’s head shot up from the kitchen table where he’d set up his things to spend the day working on an essay he should’ve started yesterday. Just like yesterday, his focus shifted completely as soon as her door creaked open and she stepped out.

Her eyes widened a bit when they landed on him, as if she was surprised to see him there at all. He gave her a small smile, hoping to ease any nerves she likely had coming into the morning.

“Mornin’,” He hummed, his gaze fixed on her as she lingered in her doorway, seemingly unsure about leaving her room at all. “Made a pot of coffee if you need some”

Yes, caffeine, her body pleaded, and she nodded at him gratefully as she made her way to the kitchen. Even as she grabbed her usual mug out of the cupboard and poured a generous amount of coffee into it, she could feel his eyes on her back.

He watches as she shuffles about the kitchen, pouring in her cream and sugar before testing the drink, then repeating the cream and sugar. He smiles to himself as this happens a few more times. She’s not happy with it until it’s color is milky brown, and it surely no longer tastes like coffee at all.

“Thank you” She hums when she takes a longer drink, smiling as it finally tastes perfect.

She turns to him, leaning against the counter and holding her mug carefully in both hands. He gives her a nod, his eyes flickering over her, as though looking for any sign of discontent. He finds none.

“Yeah,” He replies quietly. “You sleep alright?”

(y/n) nods back. “You?”

He shrugs a shoulder, his head moving from side to side with lack of a real answer. Her lips pull into an awkward frown, not knowing what to say now.

She hates that she finds it so hard to speak to him. It had never been like this between them before. They’d never tiptoed around each other, conversation always came naturally. And when they were quiet, the silence was comfortable.

The silence now feels so heavy that her chest aches.

She hates that she’s the reason for the nervous energy buzzing in the air, making her skin prick with goosebumps and her heart beat erratically.

“I, uh, I think I’m gonna go out with the twins later” She forces herself to speak, saying the first thing that comes to mind. Even though she hadn’t explicitly made plans with the Zen’ins, she was sure they’d do her this favor.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, sounding less convincing by the second. “Probably for drinks, I could really use a drink” She mumbles the last part.

Yuuta chuckles, his smile cracking a little further as his eyes catch the clock on the oven behind her, before looking at her again.

“Not even ten in the mornin’,” He tells her, tilting his head. “Already need to forget today?”

Her face flushes and she tilts her head to stare down at her cup of coffee.

“That’s alright,” Yuuta brushes off her nervousness as best he could. He just wanted her to be at ease, even if that meant pretending nothing happened between them. “I’ve got an essay to keep me company today anyways,” He says, nodding to the scattered textbooks and notebooks before him. “But you’ll let me know if you need a ride, or anything?”

She nods back at him, the smile on her face a little more genuine this time.

“Yeah, I will” She says, and finally makes her way out of the kitchen.

She goes to greet their fish good morning, cooing softly to the thing as it swims about it’s tank excitedly. She gives into it’s begging, sprinkling in the smallest amount of fish flakes as she could, and cheering quietly as he strikes at the little clump of food at the surface of the water. Yuuta tries not to stare as she murmurs and coos to the fish as though it were any other pet, a kitten, or a hamster. But he can’t help the lurch in his heart watching her sweet talk the betta that only had the capacity to care about being hungry. The scene truly was a testament to her character.

She finished her coffee and went about her normal routine without much else to say to him. Yuuta tried not to mind. He tried to focus on his essay and give her space to settle back into what felt normal. He just hoped she’d relax sooner than later. He’d hate to have her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

Shortly after she’d gotten in the shower, he lost focus on his project again and reached for his phone.

[yuuta] : i feel like a total fucking idiot. i think i messed everything up.

[toge] : looked like u guys enjoyed urselves to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[yuuta] : so not what i meant. [yuuta] : she can barely talk to me. she only just got out of bed. she seemed so uncomfortable.

[toge] : did she seem mad? maybe she just didn’t know what to say. it is kinda awkward

[yuuta] : i don’t think she’s mad. I think she just regrets it

[toge] : did u bring it up?

[yuuta] : no, i don’t know how

[toge] : well did u try ‘hey we made out and i liked it, what are we?’

[yuuta] : ._.

[toge] : ok taking that as a no. [toge] : but starting w that is prlly a good idea

[yuuta] : but what if that makes it worse [yuuta] : what if she doesn’t want anything more and it was just like a one time thing yk [yuuta] : we both had a bit to drink. [yuuta] : i think i’m going to have a panic attack.

[toge] : ok slow down for a sec [toge] : you’re jumping to conclusions, remember? you can’t decide what she’s thinking bcuz you haven’t talked about it. [toge] : rn what you have control over is what you want to do about it. So for now, just try to focus on that. [toge] : and ur essay for econ. actually you should put most of your focus on that.

[yuuta] : ok ur right. i’m gonna work on that now. [yuuta] : thank you. I’ll talk to you about it later.

[toge] : :) ___

Yuuta had never felt the menacing glare of the Zen’in twins fixed on him before. When he opens the door to find them in the hallway, clearly perturbed to be greeted by him rather than the girl they were here to escort for the evening, he felt a cold sweat form on the back of his neck.

“Hey guys-”

“Where’s (y/n)?” Maki pushed in first, side stepping Yuuta completely and bee-lining for (y/n’s) bedroom door, which had been shut since she’d been getting ready to go out with them.

Mai gave him a sympathetic smile, and he stepped aside to let her in.

“She’s a bit on edge, don’t worry about her,” She explained her sister’s antics, something she’d grown used to doing. “But how are you doing?”

The simple question didn’t hold it’s usual casual tone. Mai looked genuinely curious to know his answer. In fact, it looked like she was taking pity on him as her brows drew together in concern.

“Uh- fine. I’m fine,” Yuuta stammered over his answer, and quickly made his way towards the kitchen, looking for something to busy himself with. Getting interrogated by Maki and Mai was the last thing his nerves needed right now.

Even if Maki had already barged into (y/n’s) room and shut the door behind her with a slam. He’d perked up at the ruckus, watching the door worriedly, but it remained shut, and he didn’t hear hollering from inside, so he figured all was fine between the two, and Maki was just up to her usual untamed behavior. Mai chuckled to herself.

“Did you want a glass of water? Or something?” Yuuta asked, already filling a cup at the sink.

“Oh no, I’m alright,” Mai shook her head and took a seat at the kitchen table. Her eyes scan over the messy stacks of books and the long extension cord that reaches across the whole room to keep his laptop alive while he works. “You’ve been busy, hm?”

Yuuta chokes, whirling around, not realizing she’d been commenting on his mess at the table. He instantly flushes, especially when Mai raises a brow and her lips curl into a smirk at his reaction.

“Oh- that- yeah,” He coughs to clear the hitch in his throat, hitting his fist to his chest a few times for good measure. “I have an essay that’s due in a week” He explains quietly, certain that she didn’t actually care what he was working on.

Mai only nods, changing the subject before he could bore her with the specifics of the assignment.

“So, what’re your thoughts on the whole thing?”

Yuuta blinks, unsure of what she was really asking. Mai tilts her head at him, knowing he was a smart enough guy that he could figure it out on his own.

“I don’t know…” He sighs, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is…”

Mai giggles cutely behind her fingers, as if she’d been watching two kittens playing with a ball of yarn, rather than watch a grown man struggle with the feelings he’d carried for years. Feelings so strong everyone around him knew damn well where his heart lied. It was a cruel laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Yuuta could be so pitifully hilarious sometimes.

“Sorry,” Her apology is empty when he furrows his brow at her. “It’s just… I owe Toge money for this, you know,”

Yuuta’s gawking now, frozen and silent as he waits for further explanation. Had everyone been in on something he hadn’t known about? Was this all some elaborate prank on him?

“I always thought you’d make the first move. Guess Toge knew best this time”

“Wait, you actually bet on- he bet against me?” Yuuta stammered. Mai smiled sweetly.

“Everyone bet against you,” She told him. “Well, everyone but me,” She corrected right away. “Personally, I thought it’d be a whole love confession thing, you know? Like in the movies? I always thought you were the kind of guy that just wouldn’t be able to hold it in anymore. After last night I was sure that if (y/n/n) had a little push it’d be enough for you to do something. But it sounds like she initiated, no?”

Yuuta’s head was spinning taking in all of this information at once. Everyone knew? His closest friends, and they bet against him? His face felt hot with embarrassment, and just when he thought this whole thing couldn’t get worse, too. Damn them all for being such a close knit group of friends that nothing was private anymore.

“I… I guess…” He answered the question quietly, unsurely. Truthfully Yuuta wasn’t sure who exactly was at fault for the situation. (y/n) might have brought up the subject, but he was the one who kissed first, wasn’t he? “So… she told you all of it?” He asked.

Mai smirked.

“Sorry, can’t break the girl code,” She says innocently. Yuuta rolls his eyes. Bullshit. She just wanted to yank his chain. “But you’re my friend too,” She reminds him. “So I was just curious what you thought about all this”

Their banter was cut short by (y/n’s) door swinging open, Maki’s voice carrying out into the hall as she exited, nodding for her sister to get up to head out.

(y/n) followed shortly after, a pair of heels in one hand, her other hand occupied trying to secure a bracelet on her wrist. With her focus on awkwardly trying to maneuver the clasp with one free hand, Yuuta was given enough time to stare at her properly.

She’d spent a lot of time holed up in her room, supposedly getting ready, and now he could see just the amount of effort she’d put into doing so. Her hair was done up, styled in perfect soft waves that bounced when she moved, and fell around her shoulders. A simple but pretty dress hung from tiny straps at her shoulders and fell just above her knees. It was her favorite color and one that complimented her very well. Yuuta had been there when she’d found it and claimed it was an ‘impulse buy’, but she’d loved it thoroughly and had worn it regularly. He stared in awe while she struggled with the jewelry and cursed under her breath.

It took him a minute to come back to reality, blinking quickly as if he needed to refocus, before approaching her with an outstretched hand and a small smile. She understood what he was offering from the small action. It wasn’t the first time she’d struggled to put on her own jewelry, and she’d often turned to him for help with the dainty clasps.

Sheepishly, (y/n) placed the charm bracelet in the palm of his hand, before holding her wrist out to him. With how close she is he can smell the flowery perfume she’d just applied before coming out of her room. It was sweet and pretty and he swore it flooded his senses like THC, lifting him right off the floor and into the clouds.

“Thank you” She murmurs.

She watches as he carefully lifts the jewelry from both ends, securing the claw clasp between his thumb and index finger gently. A smile lifted at the corners of his lips as the little charms dangled off the silver chain, and he recognized the bracelet.

It was a gift from him. For the first birthday she’d celebrated since moving in together. It wasn’t the most extravagant thing, there were no jewels, the chain was made of silver rather than rose gold or something more expensive and romantic. The charms were a mismatched set of stars and moons, some varying in color, but most of them the same silver as the chain they dangled from. When he’d come across it, Yuuta thought he’d struck gold. It had been the perfect gift. He’d seen it in the window at a jewelry store he’d never looked at twice before, but somehow this little bracelet called to him and he was waltzing right inside and purchasing it at the counter not five minutes later.

The clerk placed it in a little velvet box, which Yuuta took home and carefully wrapped a silky white ribbon around. It had taken some practice to tie the bow just right, but he’d been very proud of his craftsmanship. In the days leading up to her birthday, he was sure he was going to ruin the surprise, he was so giddy with excitement.

Then when the day came, and they were all out with their friends for dinner, he was a wreck. Everyone else’s gifts were so different from his. Maki had given her a nice leather jacket, Mai had given her a handle of her favorite rum, and Toge had given her a new game for their switch. When all that was left was the small gift bag holding Yuuta’s gift, he was chugging his drink as she reached into it with a grin.

The table went silent when she pulled out a tell-tale velvet box, a perfect silk bow tied around it. Yuuta avoided her gaze when her wide eyes turned to him. He’d missed the way her cheeks had warmed up, too embarrassed by the stares from the rest of their friends. ‘Jewelry?’ she’d asked sweetly, before carefully untying the ribbon and propping open the box. She’d gasped, setting the box down carefully before lifting the bracelet from it, admiring each mismatched charm dangling from it.

Her eyes lit up as she turned to him, holding it out for him with one hand, the other wrist on display as she bounced in her seat, prompting him to put it on her. That was the first of many times Yuuta had clasped the gift carefully around her wrist. Conversation between the twins and Toge picked up again as the pair shared a sweet, private moment. Yuuta wasn’t sure why it was so intimate to do such a simple favor for his friend, but his skin burned where it grazed hers as he adjusted the new jewelry for her.

‘It’s beautiful,’ She’d whispered softly, her eyes fond as they gazed into his. ‘I love it so much, thank you, Yuuta’.

As he hooked the claw through the usual hoop she always wore it at, the perfect length to keep it secure on her wrist but still let the little stars loosely dangle, Yuuta couldn’t help but think about that first time he’d put it on for her.

“There,” He hummed when it hung perfectly around her wrist. “You’re all set now”

His eyes lingered on the bracelet and it’s meaning that he’d never quite worked up the courage to tell her about, before flickering to meet her soft expression. There was something in her eyes that told him she was trying to say something, but she didn’t budge on it. Her lips curved into a small smile as she nodded at him in gratitude.

“So we’re ready?” Maki cleared her throat, drawing both of their attention over to where she had her arms crossed and a brow raised.

(y/n) was quick to shuffle away from Yuuta, sliding on her heels and making sure the straps were adjusted just right at her ankles before giving Maki a wide smile.

“Ready!”

She leaves with a wave and a sweet call of good luck on finishing his essay. Yuuta lingers at the door, even long after the three have left for the night. The creeping feeling that he’s an idiot plaguing his mind again.

It wasn’t like he could tell her not to go, that wasn’t fair. It also didn’t seem right to tag along, he wasn’t a total moron after all, he knew that she needed some space tonight with her girlfriends to collect herself and get over what happened between them.

But god, he just hoped she wasn’t going to get over it by finding someone else to distract her from it. ___

Rather than go to the usual bar that the group would spend free evenings at, Maki and Mai had promised an all new experience for the night. Mai talked up the place animatedly, all bright eyes and movements of her perfectly manicured hands, while Maki drove and chastised her sister for being such an annoying passenger.

The longer (y/n) spent around them, the more her nerves began to settle and she finally gave in to the excitement of going out for the night. It had been a while since they’d done something just the three of them. Girl time was hard to come by, and often only happened in their groupchat. Toge and Yuuta had a way of wiggling into their plans, not that they really complained about it. It was nice to have a close and comfortable group of friends.

But right now, (y/n) needed two things. One, time with her favorite twins that always scored free drinks wherever they went. And two, the free drinks that the pair were currently scoring as they chatted up the bartender.

(y/n) watched in amusement as Maki slid her glasses onto the top of her head pulling her hair away from her pretty face, and Mai leaned over the bar on her elbows, her low cut top doing all the work for her even while she undoubtedly flirted with the tattooed man behind the bar. The high top table (y/n) sat at with all of their purses- it wasn’t like the Zen’ins needed their wallets- was far enough away that she couldn’t hear the conversation happening, but she recognized the sweet, alluring smile on Mai’s red painted lips. It was a flirty look, and held absolutely no bite behind the bark. It was just a well rehearsed dance, and she knew exactly how to use it to get what she wanted.

Admittedly, it had even worked on (y/n) a few times. So she knew that no man was strong enough to withstand it’s power.

Sure enough, the girls were already headed back to the table with three drinks between them, and proud grins on their faces as they snickered between themselves.

“Did a phone number come with these?” (y/n) teased as Maki handed her the extra cocktail. She thanked her with a bright smile, admiring the swirls of color in the drink before she stirred it up.

“Sure did,” Mai says, flashing the napkin between her fingers, the scrawl of numbers in purple ink spread across one side. “I think I might call this one too” She adds excitedly.

Maki and (y/n) share a laugh before the three of them raise their glasses, clinking them together gently.

A few drinks passed and (y/n) had almost forgotten why she’d even wanted to go out tonight. It was so nice to hang out with the Zen’in twins. There was always plenty to gossip about, and especially in a setting like this one, there was only more fuel for their fire.

While Mai went back to order their fourth round, and flirt with the bartender some more, Maki dragged (y/n) out to the dance floor. She knew her well enough to know that three drinks was just the right amount to loosen her up and get her out there without much protest. And just as she thought, (y/n) eagerly followed, hips already swaying to the familiar beat.

“You feelin’ better?” Maki asked, leaning in close enough so she didn’t have to yell as much over the music. Close enough that (y/n) could smell the familiar perfume she’d been wearing since they were in high school.

“I am,” She beamed up at her friend while they danced. “Thank you for taking me out, this is just what I needed”

Maki smiled back at her, relieved to have helped. Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew that this distraction was necessary to clear her mind.

(y/n) and Yuuta had been dancing the dance of friends that hadn’t realized they were infatuated with each other for so long that Maki genuinely couldn’t remember a time when their romantic tension wasn’t all consuming. When they’d decided to move in together, she’d known it was only a matter of time before something changed between them. They all knew, hence the bet with Mai and Toge, that living in close quarters would create a rift at some point.

It sounded like that rift was more of a dive head first into unexplored territory, and (y/n’s) panic text last night that only read ‘s.o.s yuuta and i almost hooked up and i think i’m gonna have a panic attack’ was far more than anything she could expected to happen, but it was amusing nonetheless.

And Maki loved her friends. She loved them so much she was happy to take her out for drinks and dancing in order to relieve some of the awkward tension at home. But her friends were morons, and when this was resolved, she planned to never let them live it down.

Because there was no doubt in her mind that Yuuta loved (y/n) with every fiber of his being. No doubt at all that (y/n) felt just the same for him. She’d been following him around with stars in her eyes since they were children. And Yuuta had never treated anyone the way he treated (y/n)- like she hung the moon and stars, like his entire world revolved around her.

They could be in a crowded room with blasting music and hollering voices, and if (y/n) was speaking, Yuuta was listening to every word with his undivided attention. Maki had seen it, on multiple occasions.

Six drinks and two free rounds of shots from the bartender that had a crush on Mai later, and Maki was struggling to herd her sister and her friend outside and towards the car.

It was very late into the night, and even for a Friday night Maki was ready to crash and get a full night of sleep. She should have known to start the process of leaving an hour early, because since suggesting they square up their minimal tab and heading out, an hour is how long it had taken to get the two remotely close to the door.

Mai was insistent on staying until the place closes- which wasn’t for another three hours- but Maki refused to ditch her sister at a bar at one in the morning with a guy she just met. Free drinks or not, that crossed girl and sister code for her.

(y/n) was a different story. Three-drink (y/n) loosened up enough to dance a bit and mingle just a little. Six-drink-and-two-shots (y/n) was making best friends out of everyone she ran into, whether they wanted to chat or not, she found a reason to hold their attention. One girl had cute boots, some other guy was wearing a tee shirt of a band she’d heard of- not even liked, just heard of- and now she was off again talking to someone near the bathrooms.

“She said she was gonna pee!” Maki barked, and Mai lazily turned her attention towards where Maki was glaring. “Come on, let’s go get her. Again”

Knowing better than to trust Mai to follow, Maki snatches her by the wrist and drags her across the bar with her. Mai finds this amusing and a bit ridiculous, but doesn’t fight with her.

As they grow nearer and can see (y/n’s) animated talking, they also get a better look at who it was that had stolen her attention.

“Hey wait a sec,” Mai stops in her tracks, pulling her arm out of Maki’s grip only to grab her shoulder and maneuver her body until she could follow her exact line of sight. “Is that…?” The name doesn’t come off her tongue, but it doesn’t need to. Maki recognizes the man she’s speaking too instantly.

And she glowers, before speeding off towards the pair at a faster, more determined rate. This time she knows Mai will be hot on her tail.

“Naoya!”

(y/n) and the stranger she’d been talking to both perk up. Recognition flashes in both of them as they see the Zen’in twins stampeding towards them. (y/n) beams, delighted to see her friends. The handsome stranger she’d been conversing with wears a smug look as he smirks at his cousins.

“We’re leaving,” Maki said, putting herself between (y/n) and her distant cousin, staring down at her friend with a grave expression. “Let’s go-”

“I didn’t pee” (y/n) pouts up at her, too out of it to notice the hostility between her friend and the man she’d just met. Maki huffs, narrowing her eyes at her as though to ask ‘really?’. (y/n) bats her eyes up at her.

“I was just keeping (y/n) here company while she waited,” Naoya speaks up.

The Zen’in twins both spun around to glare at him as he spoke. If (y/n) hadn’t been inebriated she may have recognized the icy stares that she’d seen many people cower away from before. Eerily enough when directed at him, he stared back at them with his chin tilted out and a smirk on his face.

“I’m happy to wait with her if you both have somewhere to be?” He suggested.

“As if”

“Eat shit”

Mai and Maki spoke in unison, both of their comments jarring (y/n), who was now shielded behind them like a small child. Naoya lifted his hands in mock surrender, and took a step away from the wall.

He caught eyes with (y/n), confused, naive, drunk (y/n), who tilted her head as he waved goodbye to her. She weakly raised a hand to return the gesture. Maki glared between them both as she followed the interaction.

“You’ve got my number,” He grins, his eyes staying locked on hers even while Maki and Mai’s were so sharp he could almost feel them piercing his skin. “If you change your mind on getting over that roommate”

Mai’s jaw dropped open as she whirled around to (y/n), a look in her eyes that was somewhere between excitement and bewilderment. Maki snarled at the man until he finally turned around and left. It wasn’t until then that she ushered (y/n) into the bathroom, where there was no line to begin with, as it was completely empty inside.

The loud music and crowd at the bar muffled out once they were alone in there, and (y/n) was quick to scurry into a stall.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Maki cursed under her breath, while Mai pulled herself onto the counter of sinks, swinging her feet as she laughed to herself. “If he tries to talk to her again, I’m punching him in the goddamn teeth”

“That guy?” (y/n) called from the stall, only to go ignored by the sisters on the outside.

“Like when we were kids?” Mai mused, a smirk curling on her lips as she recalled the distant memory.

“No,” Maki shook her head, before a slow smirk of her own formed. “That was his nose”

They shared a laugh, even while (y/n) continued to ask who and what they were talking about. Naoya was a face they’d hoped they’d never have to see again, but certainly had no issue breaking if it came to it. And knowing him, things would likely come to that. Since birth he’d been an asshole, it seemed. Something about being a trust fund baby and a narcissistic manipulator seemed to bring out the worst in him.

(y/n) comes out of the stall with a childish frown as she drags her feet to the sink.

“We’re talking about Naoya,” Mai says, leaning back into the mirror to speak to (y/n) while she washes her hands. “He’s our cousin”

“That guy out there?” (y/n) mumbles, her brows furrowing as she focuses intently on soaping up her hands. “He’s your cousin?”

Mai nods.

“And he’s the fucking worst,” Maki pipes up with a bark in her tone that has (y/n’s) eyes snapping to her reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, Maki was giving her a pointed glare. “Stay away from him (y/n), he’s a piece of shit”

With wide eyes and her lips pressed together, (y/n) nods back at her in a small movement.

She hadn’t spoken to him too much. He’d approached her while she was lingering at the wall trying to get her texts to go through. She vaguely recalled him saying something about a pretty girl being alone, but she hadn’t given him much of her attention, too drunk and annoyed with her phone for not working to care.

But one thing led to another and she was complaining to him about not getting in touch with her hot roommate that she’d made things complicated with, and after he showed her how to send the message as a text rather than an imessage, he’d prodded her into telling him more about this situation-ship as he’d called it, and next thing she knew, she was talking on and on about Yuuta.

And (y/n) may have been a bit drunk, but she wasn’t oblivious. She caught the way he told her he’d help her get her mind off of things, she noticed the smirk on his lips and the darkness in his eyes as they swept her figure. But she didn’t care about his intentions. She just needed to vent, to an impartial- partially impartial- party that wouldn’t tell her what everyone else was telling her.

So honestly, (y/n) had no problem ignoring the new number in her contacts. She wasn’t looking to hook up with Naoya. But his company was appreciated while it lasted, even if he did only stick around her in the hopes of getting laid.

“She’s not interested in him like that,” Mai tells her sister, before her eyes flit over to (y/n) as she dries her hands. “Are you?”

(y/n) merely shakes her head, and tosses the paper towel in the bin.

“Thought so,” Mai smirked. “You’re still hung up on Yuu-ta~” She singsongs his name with girlish charm, and Maki cracks a small laugh, relieved to know that she didn’t have to teach her asshole cousin a lesson to keep him away from her best friend.

“That much is obvious”

“Come on,” (y/n) sighs, pulling on Mai’s arm to get her off of the counter so they could finally leave the bar. “Let’s go home so I can sleep this off and hopefully forget all of it”

Mai slings her arm around her waist as they leave the bathroom, the noise of the busy place drowning out all else once more. Even as the three of them push through the crowd, with Maki leading because her presence was strong enough to part a path in any crowd, (y/n’s) thoughts are messy. It was probably all the drinks, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty for the situation she’d put herself in.

She feels Mai’s cheek on top of her head when they near the door, and Maki opens it for the two to go through first, then follow behind. Sometimes (y/n) thinks her friendship with the twins had developed so much that she shares some of their special twin telepathy. Because Mai squeezes her hip and nuzzles into her hair just as her thoughts begin to spiral the longer she thinks about going home. Mai was always affectionate when she was drunk, and maybe she was riding on a high after her score with the sexy bartender, but (y/n) appreciated it nonetheless. She even sat with her in the backseat of Maki’s car, falling half asleep on her while leaning up against one another.

“I’m so not carrying her if she passes out,” Maki half-chides as she glares at her barely conscious sister in the backseat. “She can spend the night back there, I don’t care, I’m tired of carrying her ass around”

(y/n) chuckles, and laughs a little louder as Mai stirs and mutters something along the lines of ‘m not fuckin’ tired back at her.

Somehow she doesn’t pass out on top of (y/n), although her weight is heavy against her, when Maki parks at (y/n’s) apartment complex, Mai sits right up and gets out of the car. Her and (y/n) keep their arms wrapped around each other as they head inside. Maki rolls her eyes and occasionally scolds them for being too slow, or stumbling around and bumping into things, but her voice is soft and her hands are gentle as she guides them to the door.

Just as (y/n) is slurring over her words trying- and failing- to explain that she doesn’t have her key, the door opens and Maki is pushing the two inside.

Mai disappears from (y/n’s) side almost instantly, suddenly craving a glass of water and one of the peaches on display in a porcelain bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Pretty much what you expected, yeah?” (y/n) hears Maki say, but she’s suddenly so tired that keeping her eyes open feels like a workout. She doesn’t even have the energy to ask her what she’s talking about.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Someone replies. A familiar voice that was deep but soft around the edges. An instinctive smile forms on her lips. “Thanks for driving, though. And for… everything else” The voice grows quieter towards the end.

And then there’s a pair of hands on her shoulders, and (y/n) nearly collapses into the embrace. She stumbles, catching her heel at an awkward angle and nearly sprains an ankle trying to correct her stance. But the hands are faster, and stronger, and lift her by her hips before she could fall on the bent ankle or hurt herself at all. She’s placed right back on the ground a moment later, but the hands remain.

“Yuuta~” She greets him once she finally realizes who it is that is keeping her upright. It was an honest mistake, with her heavy eyes and alcohol flooded system, it was easy to confuse Yuuta’s strength for Maki’s.

Yuuta chuckles quietly at her delayed acknowledgement, his thumb caressing her hip in gentle circles.

“Let’s get you some water and into bed, hm?” He hums, tugging gently on her to get her to follow him.

(y/n) stumbles along without much hesitation at all. She’s humming a tune that had been stuck in her head after she’d heard it at the bar, and Yuuta tries not to laugh at her inebriated state, but she does make it difficult.

When he opens the door to her bedroom, they realize why it had been shut.

Mai was face down in (y/n’s) pillows, passed out cold. Her heels had been kicked off and unceremoniously thrown onto the rug, but that was as far as she got in settling in for bed. She was still in her dress, all of her jewelry, and most definitely was staining (y/n’s) silky pillowcases with her makeup.

“Damn, that’s another pillowcase set she owes me” (y/n) mumbles with a huff, leaning defeatedly into her door frame.

“She’s done this before?” Yuuta’s brows furrow.

(y/n) looks over at him with a frustrated pout before nodding. He winces, but their moment of shared exasperation is quickly clouded by how funny it was that such a thing had occurred twice and they hadn’t learned from it, and soon Yuuta was ushering them both out of the doorway and into the hall so they could let her sleep in peace.

“We’ll let her stay,” He says quietly, already guiding her to the other door. His door, she realizes distantly. “She clearly needs the rest, you can just stay in here, alright?”

He watches the delay in her realization as she turns to face him with a concerned look on her face. Yuuta already knows what she’s going to say before the words form in her mouth.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” He eases her into the room with a gentle hand on her lower back. Her expression is still unsure, but her feet move on their own accord further into the room. “Get somethin’ to wear out of the dresser,” Yuuta instructs, knocking his knuckle against the drawer he kept his sleepwear in. “I’ll go let Maki know she can stay with Mai if she wants”

(y/n) gives him a small nod before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

It felt odd being in his room, not because it was unfamiliar to her, she actually spent plenty of time lounging in his room with him, but it was odd being there without him. Especially when she’d been asked to change, and into his clothes no less.

Her movements were hesitant as she opened the drawer he’d pointed to. The wood creaked out and put his clothes on their perfect, organized display. She let out a small laugh through her nose at how crisp his tee shirts were folded, and similarly, the even rolls of sweatpants beside them. It was almost ridiculous how perfect it all looked. But she couldn’t be surprised.

It almost felt wrong to pluck out a tee shirt and pair of sweats and unfold them, but suddenly her wrinkled skirt and the straps that didn’t want to stay in place on her shoulders were enough of a bother for her to unzip the irritating material and let it drop to the floor.

Yuuta’s clothes smelled like him. Which shouldn’t have been something that surprise her as much as it did, pausing as she tugged the tee shirt down, dipping her nose against the loose collar and inhaling the familiar scent of pine and the laundry detergent they shared, creating a fragrance that was so distinctly Yuuta she could recognize it in a second.

She tied the drawstrings of the sweatpants in a double knot to keep them from sliding back off her hips, and that was when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” She called quietly, aware of the sleeping girl in the next room over. Although a tornado couldn’t stir Mai from the drunken slumber she was in.

Yuuta opened the door slowly, trying to keep it from creaking, before he entered the room.

He tried not to stare, he really did, but he couldn’t help but smile at the way his clothes blanketed her, and just how cute she looked in them. It wasn’t necessarily the first time she’s worn his clothes, there had been plenty of times where he’d lent her his jacket, or a spare tee shirt in high school when she’d spilled milk on her blouse, and those times had felt special too, but now felt… significant.

Seeing her wrapped up in his pajamas in his room while getting ready to go to sleep in his bed, Yuuta’s grinning at her while her face is going pink with embarrassment.

“Maki went home,” He cleared his throat, trying to remember the conversation he’d just had before he walked in here and had his mind wiped of all logical thought. “She said she’ll pick Mai up in the morning”

“Alright then,” (y/n) nodded in understanding. “Oh, and can I borrow a-”

“Your shoes are still on,”

Yuuta’s voice is soft as he cuts her off, vaguely pointing to where her strappy heels poked out under the pool of fluffy cotton at her feet. She looks down as though confused by the statement, but sure enough she realizes she hadn’t taken them off when she’d dropped her dress and stepped into the sweats.

She giggles to herself and lifts a leg, the excess fabric of his pants hanging off her ankle so she could be sure her heels were in fact still on her feet.

“Here,” Yuuta reaches out, guiding her to sit on the edge of his bed. She follows, but just before she could lean over to undo the small buckles at her ankles, Yuuta was already kneeling to the ground before her.

(y/n’s) certain that her mistake from the night prior is the only reason that she feels a swell in her chest and an intimate tension settle in the air around them. Because there’s no other reason she should feel her heart racing and her face going hot as he carefully unlatches the buckle of the left shoe and slides the strap out before pulling the shoe away and dropping it to the floor. There’s no reason why she should feel butterflies fluttering around her tummy as he follows the same procedure for the right one.

But she does. She feels her blush and the butterflies and the dryness in her throat as the tension sucks all of the oxygen right from her lungs. And when he looks up at her with a sweet smile, surely happy to have helped, all of those feelings seem to be put under a magnifying glass.

“Better?” He asks with that damn smile.

Against her will, her mind wanders to how soft and warm that smile had felt when it was pressed against her mouth. How firm and gentle and experienced his mouth felt when it kissed hers. Her fingers dig into the plush comforter she sat on, trying to ground herself to reality, as far away from that memory as she could get.

She gives him a small nod.

“What did you want to borrow?” He asks as he stands, and her eyes follow his as he’s suddenly so easily towering over her. She almost had no idea what he was talking about, and she’s quick to release her hold on the blanket.

“Right- um- could I borrow one of your blankets? Mai is on top of all of-”

Yuuta’s chuckling makes her halt in her explanation, her brows barely pinching together in question at the reaction.

“You don’t need to sleep on the couch (y/n/n), you can stay in here, I already told you that,”

She presses her lips together as she regards him, trying to find any source of discomfort or regret. He seems to pick up on her evaluation, and he raises a brow as he chuckles at her.

The sound feels all too delighted, like he was amused by her hesitation.

“(y/n), it’s fine, you’re overthinking,” He tells her. “I’ll get you a glass of water, m’kay? Just… get comfortable. You’ve slept in here tons of times before”

He leaves the room before she could say what they were both thinking. Not like this. She’d accidentally napped in here on a few occasions, waiting too long for him to be done studying, or when her bedding was in the wash and she had grown tired after a day of chores, she wasn’t a stranger to his bed. But just as she wasn’t a stranger to his room, it still felt all too new right now.

Like if she moved too quickly she might break something intangible yet oh so fragile.

Nonetheless, she shuffles into the bed and under the covers, and her hazy mind begins to settle as soon as she rests her head on one of Yuuta’s feathery pillows. She wonders if everything he surrounded himself with- his clothes, his blankets, his pillows- was comfortable because he valued comfort, or if it simply was because it was all his. Because it was an extension of him.

But maybe she was still just a bit drunk and overthinking the fluffy warmth surrounding her. Maybe he was right about that part.

She’d just been drifting off to sleep when the door opened again, and she peeks her eyes open as Yuuta brings a glass of water over to the bedside table she laid next to.

“Try to drink all that tonight, alright?” His voice is a hum, surrounded by softness, and comfort, and she’s reaching for that question in the back of her mind again, prodding at it until she’s a little less sleepy, her curiosity stirring her mind enough to keep it active.

“Alright,” She murmurs back, leaning up on her elbow as she reaches for the glass, delighted to see it was chilled with ice. “Thank you” She adds before taking a few sips. Her dry throat had gone unnoticed until the first touch of water to her tongue, and suddenly she’s drinking down half the glass.

The bed dips behind her as Yuuta settles in, sighing to himself quietly as he gets situated. (y/n) quickly sets the glass back down, before turning over to face him.

In the dark room she vaguely makes out his silhouette, and she can’t tell if he’s looking at her or not, so maybe it’s what helped ease her nerves as she laid before him.

“Did you have a good night?” He breaks the silence first, but he keeps his voice quiet.

“Yeah, I guess so,” (y/n) mumbles back, her fingers finding a loose thread in his sheets. “It was fun dancing with Maki and Mai…” She wraps the thread around the tip of her middle finger.

“You sound disappointed” Yuuta comments, hooking his arm under his pillow so he could get a slightly better read on her expression, but the shadows cast over her features are too dark for him to decipher.

But he can feel it when she shrugs one of her shoulders and hums in a way that sounds like I don’t know.

“It was alright, it was, I just…” She tries to explain it, but as she speaks the rest of the words just don’t come to mind. It had been fine, it had been fun even, nothing wrong had happened, but it didn’t quite feel… “I think I just thought my tendency of drinking to forget was the right way to go, but I don’t think it worked, and I think I’m only going to feel worse,”

It was word vomit through and through, an endless stream of thoughts flowing right out of her mouth before she could think twice about what she was saying or how it might make him feel. But the cusp of the issue was right there and she was dying to understand the complicated knot of feelings swelling in her chest.

“I think I made a mistake,” She slows down as she says this, and Yuuta wishes she would’ve ripped off the bandaid, but at least she couldn’t see it when he frowned at her. “But not- not for what you think, I don’t mean it… like that,” She stammers a bit as she tries to correct herself, the alcohol still in her system doing her no favors besides the minor boost in courage. “But I… I don’t think I could handle it” She says in a small voice.

She’s quiet for a bit as she tightens the thread around her finger, barely able to make out the way it creases and dips into her skin.

“Well…” Yuuta sighs, struggling to find the right thing to say to her.

What could he say? He could tell her the truth, unpack all of his feelings, his entire heart, right here, but at the end of the day wouldn’t that just make things more complicated? She wasn’t exactly sober, and if she didn’t feel remotely the same way then he dug himself a socially awkward grave that he’d just have to live in because damn it they split the rent. He’s panicking, breaking into a cold sweat even under two blankets.

“It was just a kiss, yeah?” He repeats what she’d told him just last night. But unlike the confident, smug way she’d phrased it, he sounds unsure, and maybe even frightened.

Her head moves, and he still can’t make out the direction of her gaze, but he can still feel her eyes on him. He tries to focus his vision better, hoping to adjust to the darkness soon.

“If it was just a kiss I don’t think I would’ve felt compelled to go out and try to forget it happened,” (y/n) replies, her voice hushed, afraid of revealing too much. “I’m just really sorry”

Yuuta blinks a few times, as if that would help him figure out if he heard her right.

“You don’t have to apologize, (y/n),” He tells her, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “You have nothing to be sorry for, you didn’t do anything wrong-”

“I made things so weird and over- over some dumb advice from Maki- and I just can’t believe I managed to find a way to make our friendship weird because- because you mean a lot to me, you’re really my best friend, Yuuta”

He can’t tell if his heart swells with love or bursts with the sting of rejection at the statement.

“You’re overthinking again,” He forces a light chuckle, before reaching out and gently wrapping his hand over hers. “It’s not that weird, alright? Nothing could change… us… okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, just sighs in disappointment while his thumb brushes over the back of her hand.

“You mean a lot to me too, you know that,” He tried to lighten the mood, but with barely seeing her face it was hard to tell how she was feeling. “It was just a kiss, alright? Just a… really nice kiss”

“A few really nice kisses,” She mutters under her breath, finally cracking a small laugh. Yuuta beams back at her, unable to stop himself from giggling back at her.

It grows quiet between them after a few minutes, but this time it’s comfortable, and she feels her muscles untense as she sinks further into the mattress.

“I did complain about you, though”

“Complain?” Yuuta pouted. “To the Zen’ins? They’ll use that against me, you know”

(y/n) giggles, knowing full well that if she’d told the twins one foul thing about Yuuta they’d grab him by the ankles and dangle him right off this apartment building until he apologized to her. But she shakes her head at him.

“No, no not to them. Some guy at the bar,” She explains. “Their cousin, actually,”

He racks his brain for a minute, trying to recall who this cousin is, but he can only think of Megumi, and everyone knew Megumi, so had she run into Megumi, she would’ve said so, wouldn’t she? But no, she said some guy.

“Got his number, too,” She adds, but she sounds defeated, like it wasn’t a victory to get a cute stranger’s number at a bar when she’d specifically gone out seeking a distraction.

Something odd twists in Yuuta’s gut. The jealousy was distinct, but the pride in picking up on the fact that she hadn’t been interested in this mysterious Zen’in relative.

“Maki said he’s a dick, though,” She explained her lack of interest. “But he was sure happy to put up with my troubles”

Yuuta lets out a humorless laugh. “Who wouldn’t listen to a pretty girl at a bar rant about her problems?” He asks, and he can’t quite see it but he knows she rolls her eyes at him. “But since you got that number complaining about me, that makes me a wingman, right?”

She snorts back at him.

“Not in the slightest”

“No?” He frowns. “Why not?”

“For one, you weren’t there, you can’t be a wingman if you’re not present,” She explains, matter-of-factly. “And for two, I don’t think telling a guy how annoying it is that my hot roommate has been walking around in a towel and getting in my head really is all that deserving of me getting a phone number. I don’t think that booty-call was going to lead anywhere other than the bathroom stall”

Yuuta crinkled his nose at the descriptive language, before backtracking and perking up at the other part.

“Did you say I’m hot?”

Realization flashes in her eyes, and Yuuta thanks whatever deity is up there that he can finally make out her features in the dark room. When she doesn’t immediately reply, his lips curl into a grin.

“You did!” He teases, and she yanks her hand out of his gentle hold, only for him to poke at her face playfully. “You said-!”

“Hush,” She shushes him with irritation. “You’ll wake up Mai. And- and that’s not a big deal. You compliment me all the time”

Her face is burning, and the smile that threatens to take over her face is beginning to win.

“Shut up, that’s totally different,” He murmurs, and moves closer to her when she tries to shrink away out of embarrassment. “You called me your hot roommate. And apparently you’re getting bothered over a towel? Is me being shirtless that upsetting?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now-”

“Oh no, come on, you have to now,” Yuuta pleads, his voice still that annoyingly sexy teasing tone. (y/n) turns to push her face into her pillow, and he wiggles closer again, eager to hear what else she’d had on her mind. “Come on, what else did you have to complain about?”

“I complained that you’re annoying,” She whines, her voice muffled by the pillow. Yuuta chuckles. “And I complained about how you don’t know how much you…” She trails off, and her voice goes impossibly quieter. “Bother me” She finishes in a mumble to the pillow.

He hears it perfectly clear.

His face feels hot, and there’s a familiar little tingle in his stomach. But he smirks at her hiding form.

“Well what else, then?” He asks.

(y/n) rolls her head to the side, pressing her cheek back into the pillow as she looks over at him.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“What else bothers you?” He clarifies his question.

She giggles as she shakes her head at him.

“No way”

“Yes way,” Yuuta laughs back at her. “Come on, tell me”

“No!” She protests again in a hiss. “Am I not embarrassed enough already? I’m taking this to my grave”

“No you’re not,” Yuuta scoffs. “Come on, you tell me everything, so, tell me”

She supposed he had a point. A dumb one, but a point nonetheless. Clearly at some point or another she was bound to indulge him on this. Even though she couldn’t explain it, she was always driven to share every part of herself with Yuuta. Even when it was embarrassing. Even when it was intimate.

(y/n) may have told the Zen’in twins about the rushing-out-of-the-shower thing, but that hadn’t meant there weren’t other instances where her mind crossed the platonic boundary between her revolving thoughts of Yuuta. That was just the first occurrence she assumed they could understand.

She huffs.

“Sometimes you wear your tee shirts a size too small,” She mumbles.

Yuuta wants to tease her, maybe crack a joke, but he keeps his mouth shut as she gives in. He didn’t want to miss a single word. He had to pay close attention so he knew exactly how to get under her skin in all the right ways. Hearing that she found him hot was one thing, he could pass it off as a joke or an empty compliment. Hearing that there were specific things that he did that made her sexually frustrated? He couldn’t mess this up for himself.

“And when you drive me places, you do that thing with your arm when you back the car up” She adds.

“What do you mean?” He questions that one with a furrowed brow.

“You know,” She mumbles, weakly lifting her arm to demonstrate, bending it behind her head. He shakes his head, not understanding in the slightest. “You always grab the back of my seat and look over your shoulder,” She tries to put it into words. “And then, it’s just, like-” The words fail her again as she continues the motion with her arm. Yuuta thinks he gets what she’s trying to explain, but he has no idea that such a mundane action was a bother for her.

“That turns you on?” He tries not to laugh, but then (y/n’s) face goes red and she’s trying to deny it.

“I didn’t say that!” She squeaks out. “I just, you know, forget that I’m not supposed to… thinkaboutyoulikethat” She rushes the confession out as fast as she can.

“I… think that’s pretty normal,” Yuuta admits quietly. (y/n) blinks wide eyes at him, waiting for him to continue. “And if anything, I’m flattered,” He adds with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” (y/n) huffs, before wiggling closer, pressing her forehead into his chest before sighing, sleepiness overcoming her. “Not a word of this to anyone else” She mutters.

Yuuta mock whines as he wraps an arm around her back, tucking her closer against him. He pretends not to notice when her nose nuzzles into his tee shirt, in the middle of his chest. He pretends not to notice when her hand slips across his abdomen and over his waist.

“I think about you too,” He murmurs, resting his chin on top of her head. Her fingers twitch on his hip, almost tickling him. He tries not to wiggle, he doesn’t want her to think he’s uncomfortable. “For the record”

“You do?” She mumbles, half asleep already, but too curious about what he meant by that.

“Mhm” He hums, his hand trailing down her spine and then back up again, the gentle touch of his fingers warming her up, making her melt further into him.

“Like when?” She asks, and when he doesn’t reply right away, she lets out a sigh. “Come on, I told you!” She whined. “Now you have to tell me some embarrassing stuff, too”

“Alright, that’s fair,” Yuuta agreed. “I like when you wear that dress” He says. (y/n) beams against his chest.

“That one?” She mumbles, weakly gesturing to the pool of fabric on his floor. He nods back at her.

“Mhm,” He confirms quietly. “I know it’s your favorite. It should be” He smiles to himself. (y/n) giggles quietly, the soft vibrations hitting his chest and warming his skin.

“Tell me more” She mumbles, the words barely audible. Yuuta knows that she’s going to pass out soon. Her breathing was beginning to slow, and her chest rose and fell in steady movements. Surely he could leave this conversation as it is and she’d be fast asleep in a minute or two anyhow.

“Well,” He sighs out the word, as if he had to pick his own brain to come up with more examples, as if every little thing she did wasn’t enough to catch his eye on it’s own. “Maybe things are a lil’ different now, hm?” He hums.

(y/n) doesn’t respond. For a second, he thinks maybe she’s finally fallen asleep, but just as he contemplates checking, her head moves in a small nod. A silent, barely-there admission.

“I like the way you kiss,” He says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, the cheeky but all-too shy little grin that she’s grown so accustomed to. She gives him another giggle, a breathless little laugh that makes her shoulders shake and her nose press into the collar of his shirt. “It’s true, I mean it,” Yuuta said, a quiet laugh escaping him as well. Partially due to her laughter infecting him, partially out of the relief that maybe talking about what happened would help them both to not feel so weird about it now. “You’re a good kisser, you should be proud. I for one feel honored”

He’s teasing, she knows that, but her face still feels warm as she keeps it tucked away in his chest, hoping that her heart wasn’t beating so rapidly that he could hear it in the quiet room.

“You’re a good kisser, too,” Her words are more slurred than before, Yuuta can practically hear her losing consciousness as she drifts off. “Really good kisser” She adds under her breath.

And then her head feels a little heavier on his chest, and Yuuta doesn’t have to check to know she’s asleep in his arms. He’s exhausted and he knows he should close his eyes and try to sleep, too. But it feels too nice to hold her close, so he hangs onto consciousness for as long as he can.

Before his body’s tiredness finally takes over, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head, and settles into his pillow with his arms securely wrapped around her, making sure that she stays close while he sleeps.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

#okkotsu yuuta #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta imagine #yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu #yuuta #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu imagine #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta imagine #yuuta brainrot

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soraviie · 1 year

Text

they told you to go and you did.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: heavy angst ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ c/w: mention of mental illness, implied emotional cheating, falling out of love, smoking

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: If you'd still talk, you'd ask him if "disappointment" is the right word. It's not pain. It's actually hard to describe what is this familiar pang, the stab that almost feels like a bruise made yesterday. It's not pain. It's the sad realization in your heart of hearts that this would happen eventually. It's a disappointment because once, just this once you allowed yourself to believe it'd be different. And you were wrong. Or rather you were right all along. He's just like that and you're you and the rest is a story that writes itself.

Picking yourself up is hard work, hence perhaps why they call it falling for someone. Falling is not a threat, people fall all day long but a fall from the last step of stairs no matter how scary is not lethal but falling in love, unlike a blunder through the dark, is getting up into a skyscraper and then placing all the trust that the other person will provide a mat big enough to cushion the fall. But he had pulled your safety net away. You'll rebuild yourself, from scratch if needed but some part of your trust in all people will forever be cracked. If a forever person becomes temporary...it's a bizarre, ungainly feeling that unevens your footing and makes for many, many quiet afternoons spend in the company of your lonesome, staring out through the windows and thinking was it always meant to end like this.

"You were supposed to be there," you breathed out, shaking. Out of anger, out of cold, who knows.

"And I said I'm sorry," he growls back, shoving the laying laundry into the washing machine.

"Sorry? "Sorry" is not going to cut it! For weeks - weeks! - I've asked you, I begged you to be there! It was one of the most important events in my life!"

"What do you want me to do here?" Namjoon asks, exasperated and the wrinkle between his eyebrows mars his features into someone...unrecognizable. A stranger almost. Since when have you had to beg to be heard?

"I don't know," you reply truthfully but slowly something in your gut begins to work. Why are you feeling like the villain? You shouldn't be.

You shouldn't be is the chief thought.

"Do you even care about me?"

"What?"

The look in his eyes...you know, you just know, he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand this profound feeling of being tired. Being proven right that, in the end, you will always have this - begging to be heard and understood and it's tiring. It's draining the soul right in front of his eyes, ones which do not see the obvious.

"Do you even care about me?"

He scoffs.

"Take a walk so you clear your head and don't ask stupid questions."

In hindsight, a very small part of you is grateful. The comment was cruel and cut like the end of a sharpened knife but it gave you a leeway. It gave you the thought that if you had to go, you didn't have to come back.

And it's like a bit of fresh air after that. Dizzying, confusing, the feeling of being lost in a way never leaving but you're finding your legs so to speak. You didn't owe him anything, there is no legal law that would force you to explain. You walked right out. A walk to never return, a walk to self re-discovery. You eat what you like, you go where you like and when you feel like dying because there your lover is not on the other side of the bed, you turn around and pretend he was never there.

He was after all rarely there, to begin with.

Right or wrong, who cares, you could just leave and while you're alone, at least you don't have to beg. At least, you understand even if it's yourself.

YOONGI: Lillies, as Yoongi finds out, are not long-lived flowers. They fall most often in clumps of petals. Not elegant and refined like those in drawings but dropping almost half of themselves in one swift move. In one second, losing nearly all they had, remaining then barren and partly lifeless. He didn't know enough about flowers to know when exactly are they pronounced dead. But he'll be here. He'll be here because he's done nothing else but watch them shed, clump by clump.

"I told you," he'd said with a smile of all things. A cold, mirthless smile but still. "I told you it'd be hard, that you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"That's...that's not it all," you deny and maybe you hadn't been lying. All he knows is that the fear had gripped him so hard he couldn't even breathe then.

"No, it is what it is," he'd cut back sharply, decisive, leaving no room to argue because if you'd argue you'd do the same magic you'd done when he first fell in love, he'd listen and do everything exactly how you want it. He didn't want to listen at that moment, he'd just wanted to be angry.

"Then go, just go. Go back 'cause I know you want to."

Tears rose on your waterline and suddenly he felt like a bad guy which in turn, of course, made him more vicious.

"You're being cruel," you breathed faintly. "You're just being cruel."

He scoffed harshly.

"I'm just being honest. Face it, you can't handle being with me," a pause. Critical hit. Cruelty for cruelty's sake. "You can't handle much at all."

And if he had even a little bit of a brain left he'd see the change. The exact moment where you fell out of love with him and it happened just then.

You took a step back, breathed in exactly once, calmly, sombre even.

"Okay," is all you said and unbeknownst to him, that would end up as the last thing you'd say to him. "Okay" is what could kill love - a supposedly unkillable thing.

The flowers are what he brought to ask for forgiveness which would not be granted. There was no next time, no do over, no apology. You'd been long gone when he wisened up to his own words and now he has a vase of old Lillies, wilting on his desk. He reaches to straighten one of the last petals but in its frailty, it just falls. It falls down, down, down and lands on his desk. He puts his hand away. The clock ticks away.

"Okay," he mutters to himself and then sinks into silence.

JIN: "They're my parents," he says for the thousandth time, driving half-blind through the dark.

"So what?!" you exclaimed. "They don't get to say all those things about my family. About me!"

"And I already told you, I warned you that they...they would be like that! They're old! Different."

"That's not being different! That's being a dick."

His eyes glinted and you flinched. You'd never fought with Jin before. Not like this certainly. But whenever you thought of forgiving him, it all came back even clearer. How he just stood there, silent, staring at his plate like a small boy would when they called you a gold digger, your family nothing but mud-trodden scammers. The spoilt rotten apple of the bad seeds. And your lover, your boyfriend, your one true fairytale prince had bowed his head in compliance.

"Careful," he growls, hands tightening around the wheel. "Mind your tongue."

He could slap you and it'd be less bitter.

"Did your mother mind your tongue?" you asked sharply, suddenly yanked harshly forth as he drove a foot through the brakes.

"I'll give you this one last opportunity," he spits and it awakens a heinous part of yourself. Or rather it extends. It extends from the scenery of not even an hour into the past, when you'd sat by the dining table listening to one hurled insult after the next. His father had been "the others", his mother and now he himself. It's him vs you. And that's...

...that's just not someone you could ever touch without shuddering in hate.

"One last chance to stop throwing a fuss. To stop disrespecting my family and myself."

"I can't disrespect it," you open your mouth, weirdly proud. It's cathartic to hate at times. "It would imply I've held any this evening."

His jaw makes an audible sound when it clamps shut. You'd hurt deep, you'd cut it where it hurts. Good, so had he.

"Get out," he hisses, clearly fighting hard to reign in his temper. "Get out of my car now!"

You do and afterwards, he speeds off, tires screeching against the cement road, fumes, in time, evaporating into the atmosphere. You touch the necklace, his gift, on your neck. Feels more like a chain now. You take it away, frown and allow yourself to think.

Gold diggers, scammers, evildoers and nothing but lowlier of the low they had said into your face. You remember your own mother's face, proud and happy, then tired after working long hours just to put food on the table. She'd be heartbroken about this, she'd cry.

And no one could ever make your mother cry. Guided by a sudden impulse you throw the necklace away and it glistens once under the streetlights.

Jin's car disappears over the horizon and despite lingering, you see no point in going after it. You could go home.

The thought fills you with comfort.

You could just go home.

Your mother picks up after one ring.

"Hey, I'm just letting you know, I'll sleep over, is that okay?"

Your mother's voice comes frazzled but she attempts to make it soothing. No, she should never meet those people. Those people who would hate her without a reason, who raised a son you fell in love with. Past tense.

"Of, course, it's okay," then, softly, cautious. "Did it go awry? What about your boyfriend?"

You glimpse over your shoulder. JIn is long gone. There's nothing but the dark so you turn and walk the opposite way.

"There's no boyfriend anymore," you reply, cooly but even so few, traitor tears rush into your eyes and it gets hard to breathe. "But I still got you."

"The porch lights will be on," after a moment she explains kindly and you nod. "I'll be waiting."

HOSEOK: "I just think...this will be the best of us."

That's really all you remember. At the time, the words fell distant like coming from another room. His damn present, a simple present you'd saved over the course of the summer was burning against your leg, distracting you, maybe saving you in a way. If you'd heard a flaw he had named as to why would you deserve to suddenly be broken up with, you didn't remember it. He'd been doing so well, being so good, practising and making history and you loved him so much you just wanted to make him smile. He'd been so stressed. So empty and removed. And when you heard his call, his tentative invitation to a restaurant you thought must be destiny, he must be thinking it too, you needed to be closer together. Reality... the reality was as always much different than you imagined in your head.

You'd sat politely, being really good, not quite listening due to the bracelet sitting in your pocket like a carcass, but you hadn't made a fuss. Should you have? Or did you do the right thing?

Whatever should or should not have happened will take place in the multiverse, in the infinitude of other more pleasant realities, this one was yours.

"You should cry," your friend suggests, with a frown of worry. But you can't hear her also. Flinging the pillows left and right, you try to find the damn thing. The receipt is nowhere. You couldn't have just flung it into the trash, right?

"Honestly, fuck this guy."

Right, fuck Hoseok. But when you remember him, you don't suddenly learn how to hate him. That was...that went against everything you knew.

"Just please go," he pleaded, you'd open your mouth to at least give him the bracelet. It was after all a present. Why had you been so hyper-focused about it? You can't remember that also.

"Just go. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

But what it did have to be? What did you do? Or not do? What was so wrong with you that he kicked you away?

"He left you for his career," your friend scoffed. Her pride was your pride and vice versa but at the moment you couldn't even appreciate her indignance. The receipt was gone. You did not have it. And as such the bracelet, his bracelet, the one you worked so had to buy for your own money, could not be ridden of.

"Plain and simple. You were distracting him, whatever that means. What a prick."

You had not thought the same then and you didn't think it now. Coming to a stand you wonder how long will it take to unlearn someone. Hoseok must have learned it quite quickly. He'd not even spared you a glimpse as you stood there, with the bracelet in hand, suddenly turned into a parting gift not one of gratitude. If he saw it, he hadn't cared. And so you went, as he asked, clutching the bracelet in your palm. Hoseok must be a quick learner, you reckoned, leaving the bracelet to lay on your nightstand table.

JIMIN: "Already back?" a neighbour, a smarmy twenty-something who thinks he's just the thing because he has a couple of tattoos on his arm, asks. You light up the cigarette already put between your lips and scoff in his direction.

"Yeah. Now quit hanging around in the stairway, you look like a predator," with that you enter your apartment. It's disgusting to smoke indoors, that you admit, but right now it was time to think and smoking for some reason made your head clearer. Navigating through the dark, you stumbled out into the balcony, breathing out a sigh of relief. Flicking the ash into the makeshift ashtray you thought and thought and thought.

"When?! When will you be ready?!" he'd practically screamed. You hated when people raised their voice and he knew that but he still did it. A fact you wouldn't forgive anyone but this was...Jimin and he'd been the exception for a long time. Longer than he should have.

"I don't know! When we got together, I told you I'd be difficult! I'm...ill!" recalling how your lip had wobbled, you sneered to yourself. One cigarette down but you bought a new pack so there was plenty.

"Stop using that as an excuse!" he'd snarled, fists curling out of anger. You had thought then that if he truly wanted to marry you, he'd stay true to his word to be understanding. Of understanding that your mind did not always work the same way most people were used to, it did things, often ones you couldn't grasp full control of, like fear, fearing everything and most of all being yelled at for this very same fear.

"It's not an excuse!" you shrieked. "It's the answer! When someone has a cold, do you reprimand them for coughing? Why is this illness any different?!"

You were objectively hard to love if mental illness was easy it wouldn't be an illness. You required work, work done by yourself and by your partner and you had told him that, you'd told him fair and square, come clean with all that you were and Jimin had promised to love you all the same. He was, it seems, a beautiful kind of liar.

"You won't ever be ready," he'd continued, a hard scowl warping his features. "You know why? Because you hate yourself so much you can't even wrap your head around the idea of not self-sabotaging yourself for once."

And it was the truth. Objectively speaking. But you didn't mind the truth. It could be harsh and unapologetic but you could swallow it down, just not cruelty. Anything but cruelty. Coming from the one man on earth you thought could not be cruel. See what you meant by beautiful? Beautiful, convincing, angel of a liar.

"And I can't handle it anymore. I can't handle your..." he raised his hands out of frustration, letting the fists rise to his own chest and shake there before it happened.

"You're just too much. So just go away because you're just too much for me."

Pushing the bud of the cigarette against the glass jar, you put out the last light on the balcony. It's dark now and you sit, arms crossed, still thinking. You know what to do, you'd done it plenty of times before but...you just thought, you assumed, had the delusion that..he'd be the one, you know. That he'd be...different. But the nature of liars is to lie, you suppose.

TAEHYUNG: It is sad and horrifying to realize that you're becoming one of those couples. Those couples that do not talk, that sit on the bed silently and sullenly, waiting for it to be over, couples who did not touch each other, who forgot each other's bodies, voices and minds. Those couples who you always looked on with pity, wondering to yourself why didn't they just break it off. What was the point?

But the point was that, of course, once upon a time you loved Taehyung and you think he loved you too. You almost saw him, the younger him, the one that charmed you with the promise of timeless romance only to let the very same time deteriorate it away. As you walked up to the cafe, you saw him there, laughing with a friend you did not know he had. They're both laughing in fact, clearly enjoying their time and you can't help but feel like a creep, like an onlooker peeking into the lives of a happy couple even if it's your boyfriend sitting there. He'd brought them flowers. You don't remember when was the last time he'd given your flowers. The promise was every Wednesday, the reality was sometimes after the first six months, anniversaries after two years, never after five.

He pulls the chair closer to the friend. You saw the other person's blush in the candlelight and then with even more horrifying realization, you grasp that you're the other person. The one brushed to the side when they're of no other use.

"Those are pretty flowers," you reckoned, mostly just to start a conversation. An ice breaker for a lover, strange isn't it?

"I guess," he offers a non-committal grunt.

"Should I meet you after work? We could go somewhere?" you almost sounded hopeful then. How naive.

"Don't bother," he says, not quite even looking at you, more so focused on the mirror to fix the tie the other other person was twirling between their fingers. "I'll be busy and late tonight. Just go home."

Standing on the street and passively watching your love slip away, you figure you'll do just that. You won't be one of those people, you thought, standing straighter and leaving the window side, you won't cry yourself to sleep, you won't find someone else's scent on his shirt, you won't have your heart any more broken. You'll just go home.

And Taehyung was not home anymore.

But it's okay, you tell yourself, stumbling unsteadily through the neon-lit streets, you'll find a new one. You'll be okay.

JUNGKOOK: You used to love his jokes, his confidence, his assuredness that you were meant to be. But after some time, you don't quite know when, it stopped being funny the way he brushed off your worries, always so assured that in the end, it'll work out. That no matter what you'll forgive him anything.

You stopped loving his jokes.

And you stopped loving his confidence.

And you stopped loving him.

You just wanted for him to listen but he was so smug, so assured that you wouldn't leave. You just wanted for him to listen just once.

But he never did.

"If I'm so horrible, then just leave," he tossed over his shoulder, tugging harshly on Bam's leash. "Just leave!"

But he did it first, slamming the door behind and dragging Bam with him.

Maybe it's selfish, really childish, quite unhealthy but in a way also victorious. You drag your clumsily arranged suitcase, stubborn. You miss him. But a him that's not even here. Can a person die while still living?

But even if it's selfish, childish and unhealthy, it becomes easier with the next step. You're just leaving, just going. You still miss him, you miss Bam and others, and all the funny toys on his shelves, and his kitchen towels and the laughter on Fridays and movies on Mondays but even more you miss yourself. The street is long and you wonder where you'll end up next, once upon a time, it brought you to Jungkook and now it'll take you away from him. You can find plenty of sadness about it but not enough regret to turn around. Whoever's fault it was, even if it truly was a fault, it doesn't matter now. It's over, it was good for a while and now it's over. You're free to go where you want and so is Jungkook and when enough time passes you know you'll wish him nothing but the best.

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sgiandubh · 17 hours

Text

Charities and politics: the thin, red line

When you are a proven impostor and idiot and still you insist, it's time to remind you a simple Roman proverb: errare humanum est, perseverare diabolicum. In other, English, words: to err is human, but to persist is diabolical.

Or supremely stupid: your pick, Max.

This page is not into politics at all - and I explained why: this is a very familiar terrain to this blogger, who'd really like to enjoy her daily time off that particular kind of madding crowd. However, from time to time, reality manages to pierce the veil, such as today, when news of Humza Yousaf stepping down as Scottish First Minister made worldwide headlines - just a basic example: https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/29/world/europe/scotland-humza-yousaf-resigns-snp.html

That does not mean that the whole Cabinet is bound to resign, unless next Wednesday's debate on a non confidence vote promoted by Scottish Labour is lost. By the way, non-Scottish Max.

Never mind Max very recently amused me to no tomorrow, with her color blind, non-European view of Scottish politics (and politics, in general). Never mind she wrote enormous things like the SNP and Greens being politically opposed Scottish parties, just because of Yousaf's recent horrible blunder kicking the Scottish Greens out of his coalition cabinet and trying to keep the steer of a minority SNP cabinet. The SNP & Scottish Greens coalition partnership is very likely to resume as soon as John Swinney (or perhaps Kate Forbes, but my money is not on her, for many reasons: too divisive, too close to elections, etc) is hastily anointed First Minister (https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2024/apr/29/snp-looks-to-unity-candidate-after-humza-yousaf-quits-as-first-minister). No Scottish person, living anywhere else than under a rock, would have aligned this intergalactic bullshit with such confidence and such bad syntax:

Angus Robertson is a shrewd politician. He needed to be seen doing exactly that, yesterday night: showing off at an event hosted by S, once a very vocal support of the Scottish Greens. Here is why, according to normal people, like the Guardian's Scottish Politics team:

[Source: https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2024/apr/29/snp-looks-to-unity-candidate-after-humza-yousaf-quits-as-first-minister]

How old is Max, anyways? Where do they live? I won't add insult to injury, but boy do they seem to write from an ever more far-flung corner of the world than me, and my money is on South America, for many reasons I will not develop here. I chose to be merciful, tonight.

Tonight, she comes back with a renewed batch of freshly half-baked ineptitude:

Please ignore the hideous word salad the two first sentences are. Google Translate would have done better. Who dunnit? Alexa, in the kitchen, with Colonel Mustard? Let's focus on the Big, Fat Lie, here:

'Any participation in events involving charities must be independent and must not support or be endorsed by any political party or be associated with any candidate or politician.'

This is simply not true. If that were to be true, on this planet, or at least in the UK or Scotland, we would never have any NGOs actively lobbying politicians, hosting debates with them or petitioning them on various issues ranging from road safety to global warming.

I will refer the definitely non-Scottish blogger Maximum Wobbling Bullshit to the official factsheet on this very topic, issued by the OSCR, the Scottish Charity Regulator (https://www.oscr.org.uk/media/2899/v14_faqs-charities-and-campaigning-on-political-issues.pdf):

The above rule is limited to the case of election campaigns, as it is logical to be, since a husting simply is another way to call a campaign meeting. There was no campaign related anything yesterday night, the comments were simply about a Scottish national policy that is anything but political (promote Scottish tourism!), Angus Robertson is not a candidate to be Scotland's next First Minister. And same goes for the WWF and Blood Cancer UK - if you think those people went to that gala without a mandate from their NGO Board, you are: a) 5; b) delusional; c) a foul-mouthed troll.

Anyways, to go to the bottom of it, I also looked in the Scottish Charity Register - because you never know what those people might come up with, again:

As I think we all know, MPC is a registered US Limited Liability Company (LLC), based in Delaware. Its California branch is now closed, but the Nevada one was still active, one hour ago, when I checked:

And in case you are still wondering, after all these years, about MPC's legal status, here is their legally impeccable FAQ answer to the people who subscribe and who would legitimately want to know where their money goes, after all:

An LLC is a relatively recent (1970s) hybrid type of legal entity, equivalent perhaps (give or take a couple of technicalities) to the UK's PLC. In my professional view, it offers the best legal framework for what S tried to achieve with it, allowing both for management flexibility and tax transparency. If MPC does not present itself as a charity, it has the entire right to do so and is, therefore, not a charity, from a legal point of view, unless otherwise successfully contended in court.

You are still an idiot and a liar, though.

PS: S has not shared Robertson's X message on his own socials. Just so you know, MAX. [Later edit: extensively quoting The Scottish Daily Express, the Scottish edition of The Daily Express, a notorious UKIP/Farage supporting media outlet, hate speech condemned by the UN High Commissioner on Human Rights, just tells me once more time what a color blind impostor you are, Max.]

#fandom #shitshow #Scotland #business #legal

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 11 months

Text

One in Eleven Million

damian wayne x reader x jon kent - ch.1

(A/N): The plot of this is mostly based off of a trip I took a little over a year ago, though there are liberties taken further on. And my memory is kinda sucky so take any airport lingo with a grain of salt. Also, thanks to @glorified-red for helping me outline this while I was heading to the same place this year and also for being my beta reader.

This is fully written and has been for two months so hopefully I'll post a chapter a week or so? I am also posting this from hawaii so here's hoping a) I get new fic material and b) i've converted the time zone correctly and this posts late EST.

If you saw this posted yesterday, no you didn’t. Posting across time zones is hard

wc: ~2300

warnings: plane travel; anxiety

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you stepped off the tram. Above your head, the sign read Terminal B in large letters. The people ahead as you stepped onto the escalator were a couple with matching, brightly colored, floral-patterned carry-ons.

The notification was a text from the airline. You skimmed it as you walked towards your gate, weaving in and out of internal airport traffic. We're ready to board your flight to Gotham (GHM) at Gate B6 and look forward to seeing you soon! The text was right below the one telling you about yet another delay. A quick check of the time declared that making any detours would cut your arrival at the gate a little close.

“Worth the risk,” you decided for yourself. “Let's go.”

The escalator opened into the middle of your terminal, a dozen gates from your destination. Even though the airport you were in was spread out massively, you weren’t too worried. Your boarding group wouldn’t even get on the plane for probably another ten minutes, so you ducked into the nearest restroom before crossing to your gate.

The time in red on your boarding pass caught your eye. 70 minutes late, it read. Any other day, a delay would have been an inconvenience. This time, the buffer actually ended up being beneficial. You needed it when trying to catch a connecting flight—the second of two on your way home—after one already delayed. Your eye caught on a pretzel stand further down the terminal. You could almost taste the pretzels; it had been a while since breakfast. The usual delicious smells were covered by the perpetual airport scent of stale air and commercial cleaner. If you wanted to get close, you’d have to cross the foot traffic. The voice over the loudspeaker curtailed that hope quickly by announcing your boarding group. You sighed. Next time.

The boarding line was long and you silently thanked yourself for checking a larger suitcase as your primary luggage. Your only current accompaniment was your airline declared “personal item.” There was no way there would be spots for any hypothetical carry-on by the time you got on board. As if to agree with you, the airline employees over the speakers nudged passengers once again to check their carry-ons.

Like always, it took longer than it rationally should have for people to display their boarding passes and continue into the enclosed boarding bridge. Your chest squeezed as your seat flashed on the screen. The only seat available and in your budget had been a “B”: a middle seat in the back of the plane. Middle seats were the worst, especially when traveling alone. Too often you’d found yourself next to men (and even women, sometimes) that made you extremely uncomfortable.

You scanned the numbers above the seats as the line in front of you blundered along. Someone’s carry-on bag almost smacked you in the face before the line cleared enough for you to be able to see your row. Your heart sank just a little bit when you spotted the two heads in the A and C seats. No hope for an empty seat on this flight, then.

When you stepped closer, you could see two men—young adults and not older men, you realized, thank goodness—conversing with each other, both tilted into the middle seat. You hoped, privately, that they didn’t know each other well, if only so they wouldn’t be talking right through you the entire flight.

“Excuse me,” you said, stopping in front of the row, “I have the middle seat.”

The boys sat back. The one in the window seat had olive skin and dark wavy hair cropped close on the side, dripping down across his forehead and over his eyes. The other, with lighter skin and fluffy dark hair, stood to let you in. You had to take half a step back to let him out. He was tall. And pretty. Nope, Shut Up, brain. You pushed the thought into the back of your mind; he could be the most homophobic person you’ve ever met, how would you know?

“Sorry about that, go ahead.”

“Thanks.” You smiled at the boy before sliding clumsily into the row and landing heavily in the middle seat. You shoved your bag under the seat in front of you and sat up stiffly, shoulders pulled into yourself. The seatbelt dug uncomfortably into your thigh. Silently , you shifted, sliding on the smooth airplane seat, to free it. A few minutes passed in awkward silence as the rest of the passengers boarded. Your headphones were down in the bag you’d just squished under the seat. Was it really worth it to grab them now? Yes, you decided, leaning down to maneuver them out of your bag. The fluffy haired boy spoke across the seats.

“Damian, I can’t get the app downloaded.”

You sat back up slowly, chest constricting again. They did know each other.

The boy in the window seat—Damian apparently—looked up from where his head had been bowed over a book. You couldn’t really make out the words scribbled in the margins, but both the text and the handwritten notes looked like something in the Arabic language family. He put his arm out and the other boy reached across you to place his phone into the outstretched hand.

“You need to turn on your cellular data for the app store. There’s no internet here.” His voice was low in pitch and quiet. The kind people listened to. Window Seat Boy (it felt weird calling him Damian even if you knew his name) easily unlocked the phone—a red-cased, beat up iPhone—and started rifling through settings.

The other boy turned his attention to you and you gave an awkward smile.

“I kinda just realized that it’s probably really annoying to be in the middle of us so did you want to switch with me? Like so every time we talk to each other you’re not in the middle?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. The offer was unexpected, but he looked genuine. You didn’t want to wait for him to potentially change his mind.

“Yeah, um, that would be good—if you’re okay with that?”

“Oh yeah I don’t care. I don’t fly like this often enough to have a seat preference. But sitting in the middle of two strangers would probably not be it.”

Your response huff of involuntary laughter surprised you. He seemed sweet. Your guard dropped a little bit as he stood up in the now empty aisle to let you out. You pulled your bag out from under the seat in front of you and dropped both it and your jacket on the now vacated seat before sliding out and standing up yourself.

“After you.” You gestured to the empty seat. He shot you a grin before maneuvering more awkwardly than you thought possible into the middle seat.

“These are so cramped. How do people fly like this?” he muttered, then accepted his phone back from Window Seat Boy. You felt a smile tug at your lips, shoving your backpack under the seat as you sat back down.

“It’s the lack of legroom that gets me. There’s barely enough space for my bag, much less my feet.”

Now, Middle Seat Boy turned to look at you. His eyes—shining from behind black rectangular frames—were a startling crystal blue. A smile spread across his face and you felt your chest squeeze for a different reason this time. You didn’t even have it in you to reprimand your brain; it really was a pretty smile.

“Yeah I don’t get it. How is this supposed to be comfortable?”

“It’s not supposed to be comfortable,” you said, “it’s supposed to make the airlines money.”

There was a soft huff from Window Seat Boy and Middle Seat Boy’s grin widened. He extended his hand, elbow pressed awkwardly against his torso, before seemingly deciding against it and putting it back down.

“I’m Jon. And this is Damian.” He gestured to the boy next to him, whose face was once again buried in his book. Damian—now using his name felt less like an intrusion and more like decent politeness—gave a brief nod as he was introduced.

You stuck your hand out and Jon let out a small laugh as he took it.

You appreciated that he repeated your name back to you when you gave it to him. Most people just barreled on with their misunderstood pronunciations.

“Are you heading home?” Jon looked actually interested in your answer.

You debated for a moment before deciding to be honest. There were over a million people living in Gotham.

“Yeah, heading back. This is my connecting flight to get home. How about you guys?”

Jon glanced back at Damian before answering. Damian stayed invested in his book. “He’s from Gotham and I’m going back with him so technically, yeah.”

“Work trip? Or a personal one?”

Jon opened his mouth then closed it without saying anything. “Kinda work yeah. We missed our,” he paused as if searching for a word, “original flight so now we’re here.”

You nodded your head understandingly.

“Oh that sucks. Hope you weren’t delayed too long.”

Jon hesitated, wincing as he stretched out his left arm.

“We weren’t, technically. Was hoping not to have to fly like this, though.”

You shrugged.

“This is my usual airline so I don’t have much to say about that.”

Jon found that funnier than you expected, but you felt a smile crawl across your face as he laughed. The crackle of the intercom interrupted whatever he was about to say.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Thank you all for your patience this afternoon. As you know, weather delays kept the plane from arriving here on time and we are happy to finally have you on board. My apologies for the delay in takeoff. There’s been a slight mechanical issue, but we should get it all straightened out in the next twenty minutes so just sit tight. Thank you for your cooperation”

You sighed heavily, eyes rolling.

“Of course there is.”

Jon’s worried expression snapped to you.

“What?”

Your eyebrows scrunched down in confusion.

“'What' what?”

“You said 'of course there is'. Of course there’s what?”

You felt your shoulders relax.

“Oh, another delay. Almost every plane I take on my own has some sort of delay. Like my last flight was an hour and fifteen minutes behind. And now this one. I just want to go home, you know? I’m exhausted.”

Jon slumped in his chair.

“Yeah, me too.”

He looked exhausted, you realized, eyes decorated with underbags and body slouched into his seat. He was also wearing two sweaters, even though the plane was more warm than chilly.

“Are you okay?”

Jon shrugged, smiling.

“I haven’t uh—I haven’t gotten enough sun recently but yeah.”

You let out a small huh of understanding and looked out the window open across the aisle from you. It was dark out despite the fact that the sun hadn’t quite set. He wasn’t native to Gotham, you remembered. Cloudy days are the default there, but you knew a couple people who could never make it in Gotham just for that reason.

It felt weird to put in your headphones and tune out the boy next to you now. Usually, you wouldn’t have thought twice, but you liked him and didn’t want to block him out. Instead, you tucked the headphones back in and pulled a craft project out of your bag, continuing the row of stitches you were on when you put it down at your first gate early in the morning.

After a moment, you looked up to see Jon watching you.

“Whatcha making?” He asked, eyes tracing the pattern of your project. You paused, hands stilling mid-stitch.

“Nothing specific really. Just something to pass the time. It’s a pattern I found online a little while back. I kinda enjoy the time on planes and the like that force me to not watch something. Even though technically there’s in-flight entertainment, there’s not too much I enjoy so I’d rather read or something, you know?” You completed the stitch, eyes flicking back to Jon as you tugged it tight. Jon’s head tilted to the side. You had to stop yourself from smiling at the movement. It was cute, a little bit like a puppy.

“In-flight entertainment?”

“Like movies and TV shows, whatever the airline puts on it. You didn’t know that?” Jon shook his head. “How often do you fly?” Jon’s eyes widened. For a moment you thought you’d offended him. “I’m not judging you or anything I just—”

“No! No, you didn’t. I don’t…take airplanes much.”

“Ok well there’s a whole selection of movies on the app, if you have that. This plane has some TV channels,” you said, gesturing to his TV. It was streaming a basketball game, same as most of the others around you. You’d turned yours off before continuing on your project. A quick glance at Damian’s revealed that his was also turned off. “But there’s a better selection of stuff on the app and then you can connect your bluetooth or whatever headphones to your phone and watch with those.” You pulled your phone from your pocket, opening the app and navigating to the entertainment section.

“See?” You hit the button for the ‘view all’ list and turned the phone to Jon. “You can’t do anything with it unless you’re on the plane but since we are, here it is.”

Jon pulled out his phone and navigated to the same page you were on, then started scrolling down.

“This one’s okay but I feel like I’ve seen it a thousand times.” He tilted the phone towards you, display open to a movie from a few months ago.

“Oh, I meant to see that movie but never got to. Do you recommend it?”

Jon returned to the main page and shrugged.

“I think you can do better.”

You smiled, stuffing your project back into your bag in favor of scrolling through the movie list yourself.

“Let’s see what they’ve got.”

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #jonathan kent x reader #jonathan kent #jonathan kent imagine #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent x gender neutral reader #emerson writes sometimes

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silver-slates · 4 months

Text

My thoughts on Disney's Wish (Spoilers)

Let me preface this by saying that I haven't heard all of the negative things that have been circling around the movie, but I've heard more than a few things that painted a pretty grim picture of the movie before I went to see it. I was going in expecting something akin to Strange World going in, which I really didn't like (and that's coming from someone who likes unique worldbuilding.)

After I left the theater yesterday, my thoughts were just, "This is the worst Disney movie of 2023?" I really didn't have any issues with it at all, and even if I usually tend to have a more positive outlook on movies I watch in comparison to others, I just have to say that this was NOT a terrible movie. Disney has had a LOT of blunders in 2023, but I can't say that this was one of them. I know that a lot of people out there might disagree with me or even hate me, but Wish made me feel something that I don't feel very often: magic.

It's hard for me to know what specifically to talk about since I don't know about all the criticisms the movie's gotten, though I do know about a few. The first one that sticks out to me is the movie's art style, and how some people have called it ugly and even unfinished looking. But... I honestly don't get it. Nothing strikes me as unfinished, and I never found the art style to be irritating. It was something new, and I thought it was fine. It uses shading and colors that are a bit flatter than some of their previous works, but I saw that as it being a sort of in-between of the 2D look of the classics and the 3D look of the newer movies. There was probably only one time where I noticed something was slightly off, and that was where Asha is waving around some flags at the beginning and having no motion blur or smear frames on it looked a little awkward. I can also understand how some of the shots can feel a bit flat, but once again that's something that makes it feel similar to the 2D classics.

Up next, I heard some things about some of the characters being trash. The main two I heard about were Asha and King Magnifico. Some of the main things I heard concerning Asha was that she's dorky and silly to a fault, and what I have to say to that is that although she's pretty silly at the beginning of the movie and sometimes it can be a bit embarrassing to watch, that's just Asha being Asha before the adventure kicks off. As the story progressed, I thought that she learned to be more serious over time as she learned the truth about the wishes and Magnifico and what she really wanted to do, and most of her antics after that point are mostly concerning the actions of other characters. I never felt like she was silly in places where it was inappropriate, and I actually ended up liking her a lot. As for Magnifico, I haven't heard anything specific about him other than the fact that he's supposedly the worst Disney villain of all time. But... I just don't see it. His motivations are believable (according to my standards), he's shown to be a narcissist who doesn't truly listen to other people's criticisms, and him turning from a king who wants to maintain order while very rarely giving people what they want into a power hungry madman who wants nothing more than for his subjects to bend to his will and lick his boots feels in character for him and it had the right setup. I thought that the supporting characters were all good as well, but my least favorite was probably Valentino. He was alright and he did his job, but he really felt like more of a gimmick than anything else.

The next thing I want to talk about is the music. I don't know if anybody's had a lot of bad things to say about it, but I thought the songs were great. After Encanto I was wondering what they'd have in store for this movie, because although Encanto had some banger songs there were one or two that I didn't really like. Not so for Wish though, because I liked every last song that was in the movie. I'm... not really sure what else to say here.

I heard about there being a few cameos in the movie as well, and I picked up on a lot of them as I watched it. But the references feel tasteful, not overblown and obvious, and something you'll really only notice if you're looking for it (except for the Peter Pan reference maybe, but that's just one.)

One last thing I want to talk about is how I've seen some people calling the film's main source of conflict something that makes Asha a bad person. Basically, they say that her mission goes against Magnifico's warnings of what could happen if everybody is allowed to keep their wishes and that there could be some serious consequences that she's too headstrong to consider. But... they address all these points in the movie. Even if someone's wish turns out to be a rotten one, you can always try to step in and make sure it doesn't get too out of hand.

And I think those are all the things I had to say concerning Wish. I personally feel like it paid some good tribute to the animated classics with its story and familiar themes, and it was a good way to celebrate 100 years of the Walt Disney company, though I'm well aware that there are plenty who disagree. If there are some things that I didn't cover or consider please let me know, and I'd like to hear what you all have to say about the movie as well.

#disney #disney wish #wish 2023 #animation

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lavender-long-stories · 7 months

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Sasuke's Perfect Brother

Hinata wasn’t sure how she got here, looking up at Sasuke’s older brother as he held her steady with her face blooming red.

Actually, she knew exactly how she got here. It started when Sakura and Ino talked her into coming out with everyone, luring her with promises of catching her up. The bar was too crowded, so Sasuke became irritated enough to complain and take their group back to his place.

The group was having a nice time, laughing and telling stories of their first year of college experiences. It was pleasant being back in the loud group and out of the library at her out-of-town university. They all kept up with each other on social media, but they all really missed being in a room together.

Hinata giggled at the newest dramatic story Naruto was telling and noticed soda cans and empty cups around the room. She offered to refill and take empty cups, gathered them, headed with them down the hall to the kitchen, and ran directly into who was exiting.

She squeaked as cans fell from her arms and cups fell to the floor. She was thankful that they were all plastic and didn’t break or make enough noise to alert the room of people down the hall of her blunder.

Itachi's hands came to either of her elbows to keep her from falling back.

Hinata stumbled, mortified at her lack of attention and clumsiness. “I’m so sorry Uchiha-san!” She scrambled back from his grip and began to pick up the scattered containers.

Itachi reached down to help. “It’s fine. Just came to see what all the noise was.”

“Are we being too loud?” Hinata ducked her head.

“No, I was up. Parents are out, no worries.” Itachi took the cups he collected to the counter.

Hinata discarded the cans where he did and rinsed and dried the plastic cups, not wanting to refill cups that fell on the floor. She refilled them with the bottles still out on the counter. She hoped she was getting everyone’s drinks right. Itachi leaned his hips against the counter. When she nearly finished, he brought her a tray. “Oh! Thank you.”

“You are a Hinata, correct?” Itachi asked.

Hinata nodded as loaded the tray. “Hinata Hyuga.”

“I just had a meeting with your father yesterday,” That made sense. Itachi was a few years older than her. Just far enough that they were never in the same school.

Unlike her and Sasuke. She liked to eat her lunch on the roof, away from the general pubescent drama of the school cafeteria. It was also where Sasuke liked to take an, against so many rules, smoke, and take out his rebellious frustration.

At first, they spent the time in silence, but he eventually started ranting about his home life. Hinata gave neutral, peacemaking advice, which sometimes made him angrier than he started out with until the next day after he thought about it and gave his version of an apology, usually sweet snacks he was ‘gifted.’

She heard plenty about his perfect brother during those times. Sasuke would rant to her about his perfect grades and how highly his parents spoke about him. She knew how he felt and offered him similar stories of her perfect little sister, who always seemed to outshine her.

It was an odd reason to become friends, but it was comfortable for them. They both grew up, and from what she understood, once Sasuke got out of the rebellious stage and lost a fistfight he started, he and Itachi got closer.

Hinata lifted the tray. “I hope it went well.” She offered as she carefully took the drinks out to her friends. And she thought that would be the end of her interactions with him, or at least she hoped.

A loose setup for an ItaHinaSasu University AU.

#itahina #Hinata Hyuga #hinata hyuuga #wip wednesday #sasuke's perfect brother #wip dump

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missmeasured · 2 years

Text

I made some fluff!

Severus Snape and The Chamber of Secret Growing Affections and Confusing Feelings

Word count :1200 ish

Severus Snape x Gender Neutral Object of Affection

Warnings: a swear word or two.

Summary: The new teacher's assistant is charming in a way that Severus can’t help but be affected by.

“Oh bollocks.” Snape muttered under his breath as he rounded the corner into his classroom and found the new teacher’s assistant hanging out of the cupboards on the far side of his classroom.

The new aid was something of a conundrum for Severus. They were irritatingly charming. And not in the usual way that charming people were irritating. They did not force their attentions on people, rather they had an annoying tendency of drawing them in and making them laugh when they least expected it.

Just yesterday in the staff room everyone was gathered around slagging off the new Defense against the Dark arts hire, Gilderoy Lockhart, and the sweet smiley thing had made him choke on his cup of tea with unexpected laughter when they had called him a “caped cunt”. Snape hated to admit it, but they really lit up a room, especially with unexpected vulgarities. Severus felt so uncomfortable with this newfound sensation of being grateful when the stranger arrived to join his normal comfortable group. It was contrary to his nature.

The other reason Severus was consistently made so uncomfortable by the teacher’s assistant was currently staring him in the face. The eager thing had purchased themselves several repeats of what they no doubt deemed a suitable aspiring teacher’s apparel. On its surface the clothes were guilty of nothing, plain white shirts, and several colours of the same set of tweed wool garments. It was the fit that was the problem. They had so nicely chosen a cut that suited their body and the wool clung then swept away in a manner most enticing.Their waistcoats truly drew the eye in, two rows of brass buttons on each one in a V shape. It was not good either way, look down the V and there was their waist, looking like it needed hands placed on either side and look up the V and their chest was there, so nicely encapsulated in wool and white shirt. Now this fresh hell of their rear end protruding from his cupboards when he had not expected to be so presented with it.

“Oh Severus! Is that you?” They exclaimed when they hear his approaching footsteps. They started wiggling out of there and the Potion’s Master forced himself to look away. “I don’t want you to think I’m snooping. I saw your list you left me on your desk and I saw no reason not to get started right away since you have a free period. So far I took out all the textbooks and cleaned them. I was just getting rid of some cobwebs before I put them back.” They announced cheerfully as they stood up.

Snape nodded. “Thank you.” He said tightly, for he could think of nothing else to say. He noticed today’s necktie was green with white dots. They had seventeen colours of necktie and counting. It bothered the dungeon bat that he knew how many neckties he had seen them wear. It bothered him more that they had a black snooty mark on their nose and it was disgustingly adorable.

“You have something on the end of your nose.” He informed dutifully. They fished for a handkerchief and wiped at their face.

“Did I get it?” They asked.

“No.” Severus answered and then, before he knew what was coming next they had taken their glasses off and were looking up at him with their surprisingly lovely eyes and wiping at their nose more, leaning in closer, asking for assurance that they have gotten it now. Worse, they hadn’t gotten it, leaving Severus no choice but to take the handkerchief from their outstretched hand and dab at the tip of their nose and now that their glasses were pushed up into their hair he could see there was more on their cheek. He followed the soot across the face of the annoyingly alluring aid.

“Thanks!” They smiled as he finished. “I have an appointment to help the golden blunder after you, and you know how foppish he is. Would probably send me off the scrub up before I was allowed to enter his rooms.” They laughed and magiced the books back into the newly clean selves. “What else can I help you with, Severus?”

Why did his name sound different in their mouth? Why did their voice colour it in that way? “Nothing really. Early in the school year I do not need much assistance. In a few weeks if you can help me run potions result testing, I find that the most useful.” Severus informed.

“Ah gotcha. Test the sleeping draughts and what not?” They ask, putting their glasses back on.

“Yes.” Snape answers, feeling the need to step away now that the cleaning of the smudge was complete but not wanting to make it uncomfortable.

“As long as you promise not to make fun of me if I snore!”

“I don’t make…fun…”

“I’ll make it fun. Don’t worry.” They winked at him. Actually winked at him. “If you don’t want to use me any more I guess I’ll go see Clocktart.” They rolled their eyes, which got so sparkly when they were smiling. Severus suddenly felt he must have tied his neckcloth too tightly.

“If you wish… I could scrounge up some more things to do if you would rather spend time down here than go up to see him.” Severus offered tentatively.

“Could you?” They asked, turning back from leaving and coming back over. “Gilderoy really has no trouble treating me like a lackey. I’d love to hang out down here if you have something for me.”

Severus didn’t really have anything for them to do, he suddenly realized. He had been about to brew an example potion for his 7th years. “How are you at chopping?”

“I’ve been told I’m quite good with my hands.” The little grin at the corner of their mouth always made Severus feel quite wary. Is that smirk friendly? Couldn’t possibly be anything more than friendly.

“Well if you’d like, you can help me prep ingredients. I will have to check your work, I’m very exacting when it comes to preparation. Just so you know what you’re getting yourself into.” The head of Slytherin warned.

“Oh I don’t mind you looking over my shoulder. I’ve always been glad when someone tells me what to do and exactly how to do it.”

There were a great deal of things Severus would like to show them exactly how to do. He had to shake them all out of his head. It was only September. There were a lot more months of having this tweed covered, bespectacled, smiley person under his nose and he knew he needed to stop mistaking their twinkly eyes for flirtation.

Still, later in the morning when they called him over and asked him to correct their form using his hands he had to wonder. When they walked behind him while he stirred, they placed a hand on his back. Just to let him know they were behind him? When they got them both a glass of water while Severus was in the middle of brewing without his asking for one.

When the potion was finished and they were on their way out, they stopped right beside Severus, rested their fingertips on his wrist and said “Thanks for saving me from spending all day with that self obsessed nightmare. You’re my hero.”

So many possible responses came to mind and none quite right so Severus just smiled and tried not to read into the lingering fingers. He went back to to the brew, preparing a vial, and he almost didn’t realise the lingering smile he wore on his lips. When he did, he whispered “Bullocks” under his breathe once more.

#fanfiction #severus snape fic #severus x reader #severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #snape #Severus #snape fluff #fluff #short reads #pro snape #snaddy #severus x oc #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader

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mermaidxatxheart · 1 year

Text

Better Together Chapter Fourteen

Here's chapter 14, sorry it wasn't up yesterday like I promised. Shenanigans ensued.

Word Count: 3785

Warnings: Same as usual. Swearing, trauma, violence, nightmares, Poe Dameron.

A/N: if this chapter gets some interactions-reblogs or comments, I'll post another chapter on Sunday.

Series Master List

Previous Chapter

His steps echo off the hallway walls. Up, down, up, down. He’s going to wear a hole in the floor if he doesn’t stop.

But it’s been two hours! Or…. three? He can’t remember. What is Leia doing to you? Will she force you to leave? Is that something she can do? Or just throw you in jail? She wouldn’t…. she wouldn’t execute you, would she? If Poe has to take you and run… could he do that? Could he give up on this fight that he’s been fighting for so long? Would he do that? For you?

The door opens behind him as he turns and bumps right into you. He grabs your shoulders to keep you upright as he searches your face. You’ve been crying. He can see it in your bloodshot eyes, the way you’ve rubbed them raw.

He crushes you in a hug, unable to ask what her decision is.

“Poe,” you gasp. He lets you go, mind made up, and grabs your hand, pulling you down the hallway. “Poe, I can walk without you holding my hand.” You huff. He rounds corner after corner, ignoring your protests. He needs space. He needs you.

“Poe, you can’t just drag me wherever you want, you know.” You snap.

He pulls you into the hangar and over to his ship. Up the ramp, door closed and locked.

“You can’t be serious.” You cross your arms as he heads for the pilot’s seat. “Poe, don’t you dare take off!”

He sits in his seat and starts the engine. His stomach is churning, palms are sweating, he can’t breathe.

Space.

“You can’t just kidnap me!”

Is that what he’s doing? Yeah, guess it is. “Sit.” He says shortly. He can’t think straight. Can't let you be locked up, sent away… executed. The very thought makes him sick.

“Poe.” You warn as he engages the thrusters. “You’re being ridiculous. I thought you said you understood.”

He points to the co-pilot’s seat without a word, but instead you huff and head back into the ship. He hears the fresher door shut as he guides the ship out of the hangar and up into the wide open darkness of space. He sets the course, somewhere safe, populated. Not like last time. There’s a beeping behind him and he turns to see his little droid looking up at him.

“Yeah, she’s mad at me.” He sighs. Not that he can blame you. Just this one time, he wants to be selfish. He tried to protect you on that planet by keeping his distance. Damage was done when they found you kissing, but he did what he could. But that backfired because you apparently thought he was blaming you that whole time. One of these days, he would love to find out what goes on in that adorable brain of yours.

BB8 beeps again and there’s a faint spark from somewhere back in the cabin. Apparently, he had been doing some maintenance on the ship before Poe blundered in and stole it.

“Dameron!!” You shout.

He gets up and heads for your voice. “Yes?” He asks.

“I’m locked in the fresher. Get me out.”

“Are you done yelling at me?” He asks, a smile pulling at his lips. He’s almost forgotten what that feels like at this point.

There’s a long pause. He can picture your face, running through the emotions. “Maybe.” You finally say and he grins, splitting his lip open again.

“You let me know when you’re sure.” He says, walking back to his chair.

“Poe Dameron! Let me out!” You yell.

He gives you a couple minutes, just to tease you a little before heading back outside the door and leaning against it.

“I can hear you breathing.” You grumble.

“If I let you out, can I kiss you?” He asks.

“That… wasn’t where I thought you were going.” You admit. He waits for your answer. “Obviously. If… if you want to.”

Of course, he wants to. What a ridiculous thing to question.

“Get me out.”

He pries open the panel and selects a few wires. “Why would you think I wouldn’t wanna kiss you?” He asks as he works.

“No reason.” You reply a little too quickly.

“Sweetheart.”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it, Poe. You’re gonna get mad.”

“At you?” He asks. “Or in general?”

“Both.”

He twists the wires together and the door opens. You’re there, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at the floor.

“I could never get mad at you. Not for being honest with me.” He says, pulling you gently forward and out of the small room.

“You can’t promise me that.” You mumble. He gently lifts your chin, making you meet his gaze.

“Tell me anything.”

“Anything?”

He nods encouragingly. “Anything at all.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay… well, I don’t like your hair.” You say and he squints at you. BB8 is suspiciously quiet next to him.

“You know I can tell when you’re lying.” He reminds you, lifting your hands to his mouth.

“Where are we going?” You ask, changing the subject abruptly and looking over his shoulder.

“Somewhere filled with people. I was thinking we can just get a hotel room and just be in the quiet. Just us.” He sighs.

“I like that.” You nod.

“Y/N,” he starts, his heart clawing into his throat. The words want to come out… they’re desperate to come out. He just has to say them but he doesn’t know how you’ll react. Will you feel the same? Will you reject him, like you did in the woods when he was laying on you, ready to kiss you? He knows he’s been kissing you, and you’ve let him, but was that just to assuage your guilt?

“Can I sit with you in the cockpit?”

He puts it off, like the coward he is. Waiting a little bit longer can’t hurt… right? “Of course.” He pulls you into a hug. “Wait. I still have to kiss you. I promised.” He says, pulling you back and you chuckle nervously. Is that because you don’t want him to? Oh, how he wishes he could read your mind.

“You don’t have to.”

“Try and stop me.” He cups your face softly, pressing his lips to yours. The heat that blazes through him is his drug now. He can’t live without it. Every chance he can get to have you like this, he’ll take it. And when you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, to let him in? Maker, he burns. He grabs your waist to pull you in closer and you whimper, pulling away.

“Sorry.” You gasp.

Shit. He forgot about your injuries from hitting Bryce. “Did I hurt you?”

“It’s not your fault. Let’s just… get where we’re going and then maybe we can talk.”

***

The room is simple, dim, with faded walls, faded pictures, muted colors. Plain. One bed is in the center of the wall furthest from the door. The rug is worn, threadbare where people have walked for Maker knows how long. Smells from the market permeate the room, spiced meats cooking on a griddle, flowers and perfumes.

Poe sits on the end of the bed, ignoring everything but the way you’re pacing in front of him. Twisting your fingers together, the nervousness rolls off you in waves, like a tsunami. You walk to the edge of the rug before turning and walking back to the other edge. BB8 follows you with his lens, probably wondering what’s going on with his humans.

He can feel his own nerves rising the longer he lets you stress. You glance at him, finding him watching you and you quickly avert your eyes. In the years he’s been your friend, he’s never known you to not be able to say anything to him. You’ve always told him what’s on your mind, even if it’s an unpopular opinion.

“Sweetheart, come here.” He says finally, holding his arms open for you.

“I can’t. I need to say this, it’s just. Just… I don’t know where to start.” You whisper, voice breaking slightly.

“How about we start with why you beat up Bryce?” He says gently.

You take a deep breath, shaking your hands out. “I overheard Nya talking about how she wished I would just go back to that planet with you so she could keep sleeping with Bryce. She said a lot of awful things that he’s said about me and it just… p-pushed me over the edge. I was already there but…” you cover your face, the nerves filling the room shifting into something more like shame.

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. He’s the one who should be. You didn’t do anything wrong. Tell me what he did to push you that far.” He tries. You open your mouth but no sound comes out. He reaches slowly for your hand but you pull back, shaking your head.

“It’ll just make it h-harder.” You mutter. “After I went to breakfast with Snap and Beau… I went back to my room. I haven’t been sleeping, I missed you, and Bryce was there, in my bed. I-“ you cut off, crushing your eyes shut. “I’m so weak. Poe, I’m so sorry.” You gasp. Your legs look like they’re about to give out on you.

Weak? How can you possibly think yourself weak? After the torture you went through, after everything you’ve never been trained for-you were still stronger than him.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything.” Poe insists.

“I got into bed with him. I just needed…” you shake your head, almost like you’re banishing the thought.

Fuck Bryce for taking advantage of that. “Needed to be held.” Poe finishes. His heart sinks slightly, but he understands. He knows how hard it is to be alone, but also letting people in. He doesn’t blame you. “You’re not weak, sweetheart. After everything you’ve been through, you’re the strongest person I know. It’s okay to want to be comforted.”

“He didn’t want to comfort me. I should have seen it coming. He wanted me to sleep with him, but I… I’m not ready.” You choke. Poe’s hands ball into fists under his thighs. That mother fucker deserves to have his dick chopped off. He just might have to see to that when he gets back. “He grabbed my shirt when I tried to p-push him a-away… and then he saw m-my stomach-“ you cover your mouth as though you’re going to be sick.

“Your stomach?” Poe frowns. He’s seen your abdomen dozens of times, sunbathing, working on his ship and your shirt rides up-there's nothing wrong with your stomach.

You take the hem of your shirt, hands shaking madly as you lift it to just under your breasts. Your eyes are crushed shut, tears tracking silently down your bruised cheeks, you’re afraid to look at him. He tears his eyes away from your face to look at your exposed abdomen. Vicious red wounds are criss crossing your torso. The stitches are neat but the lines are messy, and it’s clear they’ve been restitched several times. In some places the skin looks ripped instead of cut, jagged and at odd angles. Some of them even wrap around to your back.

BB8 makes a shrill noise, coming to your defense in his own way. Everything in Poe stops dead, and that’s before you continue speaking, unable to look at him.

“He ran away, took my ship and found a cosmetic surgeon to fix me so that I could be pretty again.” You whisper and Poe thinks he just might be sick.

***

The air ghosts across your exposed skin, making things a million times worse. Poe is just sitting there, silent as you show your new horrifying reality. Part of you wants to open your eyes to see him, but the most dominant part of you can’t stand to see the look of disgust on his face.

The bed creaks and you expect to hear the door open and shut as he runs away. You’re hideous, he should run.

Instead, you flinch when you feel his big hands on your face, gently cupping your cheeks. His thumbs brush lightly across them, wiping away your tears. His lips press softly against your forehead, and he exhales heavily.

“Y/N.” He mumbles and you try to steel your heart against the rejection that’s coming, but you know it’s going to obliterate you no matter what. “Oh, Y/N.” His voice is thick, and then something wet touches your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m so… I shouldn’t have let us stay on that planet. I would give anything to go back and stop you from going through that.” His usually steady tenor voice is low and broken. You can feel him shaking, his chest is quivering as he breathes unevenly. He sniffles. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, that you felt you had to go through this a-alone. Baby. I’m so sorry you’re hurting.” He pulls you into a hug, one hand cradling your head against his shoulder, the other wrapping around your shoulders to squeeze you.

Shock spreads through you, numbing your limbs. Your arms fall to your sides as he hugs you, clings to you. His chest is shaking, his hands are trembling against your head. He’s crying.

“Wh-why are you crying, dummy?” You ask, finally managing to make your arms move around his waist.

“Tell me what to do. How can I help?” He murmurs.

“You think you haven’t been helping me this whole time? Poe, you’ve been wonderful. You’ve given everything to me, making sure I’m okay. I’ve been so selfish, not doing anything to help you.” You squeeze your eyes and he holds you tighter, like he can’t get you close enough to him.

“I think we just have to admit that we’re better together.” He says and you nod, fingers curling into his shirt. “I have so many questions.” He sighs, rocking you gently back and forth.

“Can we lay down? I’ll answer anything.” You say and he pulls back, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“Of course.” He kicks off his boots, wincing slightly and a whole new wave of guilt washes over you. He’s been so attentive to you, and you’ve barely stopped to consider his injuries. He unbuckles his pants and your heart climbs into your throat, skin prickling, but he merely climbs back onto the bed, laying with his head on the pillow, hand hooked behind his head. “Get yourself comfortable, sweetheart. Take your time.” He says, and you can hear the extra meaning. He doesn’t just mean clothing wise.

Maker, why does he have to be like this?

You sit at the end of the bed and carefully remove your shoes. Your fingers rest on the button of your pants, heart hammering in your chest. Your breathing speeds up as you think about what you’re about to do. You’ve hidden these from him for so long, it’s almost an instinct now to keep them secret. But Poe deserves the truth.

You unbutton them, pushing them down over your hips slowly. Hands trembling, breathing coming in short gasps. They get stuck on the bandages on your thighs, and it takes you a second to fix it. You don’t realize you’ve let out a noise until you feel his hands on yours from behind.

“Sh, it’s okay.” He says softly. “You don’t have to. If it hurts, you don’t have to.”

“N-need to. I can’t st-stand the way they twist.”

“Alright.” He climbs off the bed, kneeling in front of you. He grasps the fabric of your pants, lifting it away from your legs and sliding it down a little. He stops when it catches on another bandage. There are a dozen on your legs, both front and back, and he’s so careful. He manages to get them down to your ankles and his forehead rests against your knees.

“I’m sorry,” you start and he shakes his head so you quickly shut your mouth.

“Don’t.” He frees your ankles and looks up at you, his lashes wet with fresh tears. “Don't you dare apologize to me.” He drops his gaze back to your legs, fingers lightly tracing the edge of a bandage. “You never have to say sorry to me.” His eyes close and he takes your hands. His lips are soft as he kisses them tenderly. “Do you want me to lay down first, or you?”

“You first? Please?” You ask.

He stands up and kisses you. This one is desperate, pleading with you, but you don’t know what for. He lays back on the bed, falling absolutely still. You shuffle up to the top, starting to turn towards him. He pats his chest and so you gently rest your head on it, listening to his breathing. You drape your arm across his stomach, trying to be as light as possible, you know his ribs have to be as sore as yours are at all times. They beat him as hard as they beat you. His arm wraps around your shoulders, holding him against his side, his other hand covering yours on his stomach.

“Let go, baby. I’m okay. Get comfortable.” He promises and you slowly release your muscles, letting the full weight of your head rest on his chest.

“Ask your questions.” You whisper.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the cuts?” He asks.

“While we were there, it didn’t make sense to. I didn’t want to give you a reason to break, I had to be strong like you were. I felt guilty for getting us caught, I partially thought you would blame me, too, because I was blaming me. And then when we got back, I didn’t want you to worry, I couldn’t talk about it. The nightmares are bad enough.”

His hand squeezes on your arm slightly. “I never suspected you were in this much pain, Y/N, I never had any clue.”

“I didn’t want to show it. I know you’ve said it’s not my fault, and we can keep beating this dead bantha until the end of time-but you know guilt isn’t just erased that easily. I still feel guilty, and I know you’re having your own issues with what happened. I didn’t want to add my stuff to yours and overwhelm you.”

He brushes your hair back, playing with the strands gently. “You’re right. Guilt can’t just be absolved overnight, but I will spend the rest of forever making sure you know I don’t blame you. I never have and I never will. I wouldn’t take that kiss back for anything in the whole galaxy.”

“On the hike there, and while they were beating us that first day, I thought for sure you hated me for getting us caught.” You whisper.

“No. What I hated was the fact that you were there in the first place. The second you started to feel off I should have made us leave. There just wasn’t something right about that place, and we still don’t know what it was. Some sort of invisible predator.” He guesses, but you aren’t convinced.

“Maybe.”

“What did you talk to Leia about in the office for so long?” He asks.

“I told her about the torture, why I didn’t put it in my report, why I attacked Bryce.” You sigh. “It took me so long to get through it because I couldn’t stop crying, and then she was crying.”

“She cried for you.” He says and you smile a little. “And? Her verdict?” He prompts.

“I’ve been through enough. I should just avoid the two of them until she can figure out what to do with them.”

“He’s such a bastard. I can’t believe he said that to you.”

“It wasn’t in so many words. But he said he found a surgeon to fix me.”

“Don't make excuses for him. You don’t need to fix anything. These scars, marks, they’re a part of you. You went through hell and survived, came out the other side with your soul intact. You should be proud of them, not ashamed.” His fingers tighten a little as anger colors his voice, but you know it’s not directed at you. Not from Poe. “Is that… is that why you were avoiding me? Because you thought I would react like he did?”

“In my soul, I knew you wouldn’t, but the irrational part, the part that wouldn’t shut up-that part said yes. And I hated it, tried to talk myself out of it a million times. But what he did; it h-hurt. I couldn’t lose you like that, too. It just made sense to avoid you.”

“They don’t make me love you any less, Y/N.” He says firmly and your heart tumbles to a stop, dropping to your stomach as you register his words. Love? “I would literally do anything for you. If Leia said you were out of the Resistance, I would go with you. What you look like doesn’t change that. I don’t care about a couple marks. Maker knows, I have plenty of my own. They don’t make you love me any less, right?” He prompts and you can only shake your head. You still haven’t found your voice at his supremely casual use of the L word.

Love?

He loves you?

“Can I ask you something else? It doesn’t seem important, but I’m curious, and it’s gonna bug me if I don’t ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you apologize for getting into bed with Bryce? He’s the boyfriend, I’m the mistress.” He says and you can’t quite stifle the little laugh that escapes. It’s watery and weak, but he still manages to make you smile.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. But. I know how much it hurts you to talk about him. And I suppose because I felt guilty for doing it. It felt like betraying you. I guess the base truth is that I care about you more than I cared about him and I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Sweet girl. Can I request something?” His fingers brush against your cheek.

“Okay?”

“No more apologizing. It only shows me how abusive he was that you feel the need to apologize for literally anything you do. I don’t care if you run me over in the hallway. I don’t wanna hear those words, okay?”

You nod silently.

“Thank you. Get some sleep. I know you have to be as tired as I am.” He says, your eyes already drifting closed.

“Poe?” You mumble.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you, too.”

Next Chapter

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threeletterslife · 1 year

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24 | Legends of Darlaria

⨰ summary: You wake up amidst a war with no recollection of your past. Faced with suspicion and distrust, you struggle to assimilate into a foreign nation—otherwise known as your home. But on your enlightening journey to search for your identity, you come face to face with the General of the Army.

⨰ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader & jungkook x reader | PG-15

⨰ genre: 70% angst, 30% fluff | war!au & magic!au

⨰ warnings: profanity, implied mild depression

⨰ wordcount: 6.0k

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⧖⧗Circa Ruby⧗⧖

Within one circa of physical therapy, the General is able to walk around just as he normally had. He’s still unable to fully utilize his right shoulder, but the healers have been saying that he’ll make a good recovery. It’s good news for everybody.

You’ve been spending a considerable amount of time with him. Of course, the time you spend with the General is kept quite professional. Both of you treat the single conversation where you’d both admitted to everything as if it had never happened. But deep inside, his words lull you to sleep, echo inside your head when you wake up and follow you around when you complete your duties for the day.

But Officer, I don’t want you to think for a second that this will change how I feel for you.

You hope it might be the same for him—that he hears your earnest confessions in his head, even when you’re not with him. But on second thought, the empty yearning you’re forced to feel—emotions that can never be expressed in fear of blundering both your reputations and authority—you would never want another to go through them. Even if it means he no longer feels the same way that you do.

At first, you’d been in despair. It isn’t fair. He had no choice but to become the General of the Solarian Army. He was automatically handed the position after his younger brother had passed. But what if he never wanted to lead an army? What if he wasn’t born in the Min Clan? Then would he still hold the belief that love and war cannot coexist? And what about you? If your past self—whoever she was—had decided not to enlist in the army, would she have also thought differently? In another life, it could’ve been possible. And knowing that fact was heartbreaking. It made you want to lie down and take a nap so long that when you woke up, the war would be over. Or you’d be dead. Whichever came first.

But when you think about it now, you feel fine. Sure, it hurts a little—nothing can ever come to fruition despite how you both feel. But it’s for the better. And besides, you have never stopped seeing him since then. Even back when the General was bedridden, he’d often called for you, whether to discuss battle plans or for you to read him some excerpts from borrowed books. And now that he’s able to walk around again, the two of you have begun the habit of going on brisk morning walks together, at the edge of the forest. Today is no different.

“How are you feeling today, sir?”

He nods a good morning to you and promptly answers your question. “Better than yesterday, Officer.”

“That’s been your answer for the past several days,” you smile. The two of you begin to walk to the edge of the camp, bordering the trees at the entrance of the Alderian forest.

“But it’s the truth,” he answers, hands lacing behind his back as usual. “I’ve been recovering well as you may have already gotten from the healers.” He pauses. “I hear you’ve been discussing with them quite a bit about my health.”

You whip your head around at the General, only to find him grinning just slightly. You can only scoff in reaction. “And you’ve been secretly asking my major if I’ve been overworking myself!”

“I didn’t want you to waste your time with me when you’re already fatigued,” he says. “Your health and duties are more important than keeping me company.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot. “But of course! You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle quite a lot.”

He glances at you—you can see it out of the corner of your eyes. “Then don’t worry about me either. And for the same reason.”

You smile. “Yes, sir.”

He looks straight ahead, but you can see the faintest smile on his lips.

There are often silent moments when the two of you walk together. But the silence is comfortable—peaceful, too. His presence keeps you warm on cold autumn mornings, even if you keep a considerable amount of distance between the two of you. Yet you don’t need proximity to feel close to the General.

Today, just like always, you slow your walking once you reach the central medical tent. You always hate when this time comes. Because it’s the time that your walk with the General comes to an end. It’s the time that he walks back to his own tent and you walk into the medical tent, ready to deal with the groans of pain and the stench of the dying.

“Thank you, Officer,” he tells you—just like always—“for keeping me company.”

“Of course, sir,” you reply.

Just like always.

His gaze on you lingers as does yours. And you love the way he looks at you, eyes softened, lips slightly parted, cheeks tinted a rosy hue. The latter might be due to the cold, but you like to imagine that it’s due to something else. Something that he’s feeling.

But before anyone can notice, and before you’re ever ready for him to leave, he always turns away. And just like always, you watch him go, longing for the next day to come so you could do this all over again.

⧖⧗Circa Peridot⧗⧖

There’s been a gaping hole in the army since one circa ago when the General had been attacked and injured. It’s extremely noticeable to Suhyun, who refused to step up to become the temporary General of the Solarian Army. It wouldn’t be right of her to swoop in to claim such a big title the moment the General became injured; she would look power-hungry and selfish, and that’s not the kind of leader Suhyun strives to be. And besides, she’s still far from prepared to take on such a big role.

Without Suhyun taking the General’s place, the officers have offered to equally share the General’s duties; yet, she had refused that, too. She’s his lieutenant. She should take the brunt of the work. And so she did. It puts some strain on her life, but she reminds herself constantly that this situation is infinitely better than the General being dead. At least now, she knows that this chaos is only temporary.

She has been working with a team of healers to investigate the properties of the fragment of the metal sphere that had threatened the General’s life. So far, they’ve figured out that if the fragment is locked away in an airtight container, it ceases to spew out lava every two minutes. They don’t know why, and they’re still unsure if these properties apply to the full sphere. It’s still an investigation in process.

So far, the officers who do go out to battle, everyone except you, have been ordered to attempt to bring back a fully intact metal sphere, but the efforts have been fruitless. Still, Suhyun hasn’t lost hope just yet.

Sometimes, though, she feels as if the whole nation rests on her shoulders. She supposes this is how the General always feels—as temporary king, as the leader of the entire army, as the sole ruler of a nation at war. She now understands the gravity of having such a high position. Sometimes, it’s too much. Sometimes, she cries into Jaeno’s chest at night and wakes up with tear streaks dried to her cheeks. Sometimes, she even leans on you because, somehow, you’ve been handling the news of the General’s injury better than anyone in the campgrounds has.

She realizes that she had been wrong about you. When adversity strikes, you do not crumble and fall as she had. Instead, you lead with stability and a sense of calm. You might initially panic—because who wouldn’t—but you recover quickly, think quickly, too. For Sooht’s sake, you’re the one who saved the General’s life! You need to be out there on the battlefield.

She must tell the General. But how? He’s always been so against you fighting. She suspects it’s something personal, but there’s nothing personal about a captain doing her duties! Your strength and mental resilience could bring who knows how many more victories? You write the battle plans, but if you were to act upon them too, the Solarians would be unstoppable!

“General? I’m sorry to ask to barge in so suddenly, but there’s something that I’d like to discuss with you,” she calls outside of the General’s tent, twisting the rings adorned on her fingers.

She hears a bit of silence, a bit of rustling and then a calm answer: “Come in, Lieutenant Ki.” When she obediently steps in, she notices that you’re setting wet cloths and empty dishes back on a tray. A surprised “O-Oh!” slips from her lips.

“Suhyun!” you exclaim, lifting the tray and inching towards the exit of the tent. “Sorry about being in your way; I’ll be out in a second.” After you give her a knowing smile, you turn to the General, and Suhyun can’t miss the way that his cheeks are flushed more than usual. “I’ll see you later, sir!”

She watches in awe as he smiles. She can’t remember the last time he’s done that in front of her. Even when you wave goodbye to Suhyun and disappear behind the curtains of the tent, the General’s gaze lingers on the fluttering pieces of fabric, almost as if he was wishing for you to come back. She’s seen that same look on her boyfriend several times before. There’s really no doubt about it that there really are personal matters between you and the General. And maybe it’s not her business to care, but when these matters begin to affect the General’s judgment… then maybe that’s when she gets a say.

The General clears his throat, slightly shifting from his position on his cot. “What was it that you’d like to discuss with me today, Lieutenant Ki?”

“About Captain Ryu, actually,” she says, walking closer to the General. He visibly tenses up but lets her continue. “Sir, I want you to reconsider her duties. As a captain of the second sector, she is qualified to fight in battles.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Why the sudden change of mind?”

“I used to believe that she is unfit for the violence and cruelty on the battlefield. I believed that she would not stand a chance against the blood and the dying. But,” she says, taking care to choose the correct words, “I have seen her react to disaster better than I ever could. When you were barely conscious, sir, when you were practically lying on your deathbed, she was the one who stepped up and gave orders to save your life. She did not crumble as I feared she might under unfavorable circumstances. She, in fact, shined brighter. She knows how to lead in chaos, sir. I believe this gives her every right to be allowed to fight.”

The General’s face is contorted. “Well… She… I…” He takes a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “Your example, Lieutenant Ki, would make her an excellent healer, but I fail to see how this will make her a good fighter on the battlefield. She may be able to delegate tasks exceedingly well in the medical tents, but the battlefield is certainly a different story.”

“With all due respect, General, is it?” Suhyun says. “We all began somewhere. I would argue that we were even less prepared than Captain Ryu is now when we were thrown into our first battles. Her experiences in the medical tents, as an officer, as a captain and a battle coordinator are more than enough to sustain her success out there. She can be an even more valuable asset to your army; I believe the battlefield will unlock the potential within her that we never even knew was there.”

“No.”

“No, sir?”

“I’ve said it time and time again, I will not allow her to fight.”

“General, with all due respect, that doesn’t make any sense,” Suhyun says. She knows she’s pushing things, but how can she not? She wants to fight for you—because she knows how much you want to be out there, fighting for your nation. Suhyun also wants to fight for Solaria, which will only benefit from your involvement. “She is a captain—not just an officer anymore—and with her new title and position should follow the correct responsibilities. There will always be soldiers out there who will undermine her achievements and her authority if she has less battlefield experience than they do.”

“I gave her an order and I expect you to respect it, Lieutenant Ki.”

She can feel herself wilt, but she can’t back down now—not without finishing things her way! You’re counting on her; she promised you days ago that she’d change the General’s mind. And it took Suhyun three days to gain enough courage to confront him. She’s not letting all that preparation go to waste.

“I trust you, General,” she says, slowly, carefully. “I really do, but I just can’t come to understand this decision. Please, if you could explain why she cannot fight, then I’d be delighted to obey.”

She can see him hesitate. “She just… she can’t. She’s not good enough.”

“I have overseen some of her training and have only heard of great things from Major Im,” Suhyun refutes. “She’s well over the minimum qualification level to be on the battlefield.”

“We can’t let her die.”

“But we can let the others?”

“Well then, she is our sole battle planner.”

“We can find her a suitable apprentice.”

“But she’s already balancing multiple jobs.”

“Nothing that we can’t fix with a little bit of adjustment.”

“For fuck’s sake!” the General shouts. “I said ‘no!’ Do you not fucking understand what that means?”

Suhyun takes a step back.

She’s rarely heard him raise his voice at others before, and he’s especially never done it to her—until now, of course. And though her hands suddenly feel clammy and her throat feels dry, she doesn’t feel shame. Instead, all she feels is something searing hot boiling inside of her, threatening to spill out into words. In the end, it does:

“You’re being irrational!”

The General’s eyes widen. He makes no other indication of how her words might’ve affected him, but she knows that he’s shocked. She also knows she shouldn’t continue—even raising her voice at the General of the Solarian Army could be classified as insubordination. And sure, she’s being a hypocrite, too. Yelling irrationally at the General won’t solve anything except make things worse, but the past two circas have been hell for her. Can’t he understand?

“I worked my fucking ass off ever since your injury!” she shouts, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Do you know how stressed I am all the time? I haven’t gotten sleep in three days, running around the entire campground trying to listen to every issue and complaint, working my job but also yours, too. I don’t think I’ve sat down for a proper meal since Circa Alexandrite, for Sooht’s sake! I have battles to fight in, cooking duties to tend to, and even officer meetings to facilitate!

“Just yesterday, for the first time in my entire life, I wished to go back to Ara. I just… I needed to quit everything and leave. But I stayed. I took on all of your responsibilities without so much of a complaint in front of you because I know you have it worse. I know you feel like a burden. I know how much pain you’ve been in. I’ve tried to understand, General. I really have. But this is too much. Let her fight! You know she’s overqualified. You know she’ll do well. You know how much she wants to do it! If she fucks something up, I’ll take the entire blame. So for Sooht’s fucking sake, let her go out there! Please, just please don’t give me another problem to be worrying about.”

She’s crying and she knows it; her vision is blurry and she can barely make out the General’s countenance, but she knows from the ringing silence that it can’t be good at all. If this is what gets her demoted, then so be it. She’s done competing for power; she’s done kissing ass and biting her tongue for a promotion. She’ll happily call out the General’s bullshit. It’s her job to do so, anyway—as his right-hand officer.

“I’ve always respected you,” she says, heaving for breath, her voice trembling. She wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “You’ve always listened to your soldiers, your officers, the people… You’ve always wanted to rule differently from your clan. But tell me, how are you any different from your brother now? How are you any different from your own mother?”

Maybe she went too far. Maybe she was being too mean. Maybe she should’ve persuaded him gently. But she’s human too! She has emotions. She gets angry and annoyed and irritated too. There’s a limit to how much utter bullshit she can take, and she doesn’t fucking care if it’ll backfire in her face anymore. Everything she does is for Solaria, and if her superior is guided by his personal feelings, then maybe she doesn’t want to work for him anymore. Maybe she’ll take matters into her own hands.

She stares daggers into the man in front of her, yet he still refuses to look up. Refuses to speak.

It’s strange.

When she has outbursts such as these, she usually finishes them feeling much better. But why does she feel worse? The tears also won’t stop. She doesn’t know why. She should be angry at him! She should hate him for being so blinded by his feelings! Yet… something twists inside her stomach when she thinks of how deeply her words might have cut him. He’s already injured—did she really have to rub salt in his wounds? Did she really make a grave mistake? Oh, for Sooht’s sake, she can’t bear to be in the same vicinity as him anymore. And so, for the first time in her life, she leaves without his dismissal, stumbling out of the tent in desperation to get away.

Yoongi’s left in complete silence—an eerie standstill. He stares into his hands, feeling oddly numb.

How are you any different from your brother now? How are you any different from your own mother?

Well, in truth, he feels ashamed. Lieutenant Ki is right. What he did just now—what he’s been doing regarding your involvement in the army has been akin to what his mother and brother have done: selfish and intolerant ruling. He knows that if Doyun were here, she might have even slapped him for being so stupid. But he can’t help it. He barely got out of the battlefield unscathed, which means it’s an even more dangerous place for you, a newcomer. It’s illogical; he knows. It’s an abuse of his power, a misuse of his authority. But he’s lost everybody he’s cared for in his life to this damn war. Can’t he bend the rules just this once? It might not be the most rational thing to do, but since when have feelings been rational?

⧖⧗Circa Saphh⧗⧖

You’ve been visiting him less these days. Ever since he lost his temper at Lieutenant Ki last circa, his tent has been fairly bare, save for the healers who visit occasionally to check up on his healing process. You’ve suddenly become unavailable for your morning walks together. He doesn’t know if it’s because Lieutenant Ki told you about the argument or if you’re really that much busier now. Or maybe… Maybe you don’t want to see him anymore. Maybe you believe that if you cease to see him, you’ll cease to care for him. It’s the worst theory of the bunch—the one that hurts him the most. Because he can’t imagine ceasing to care for you.

Now that he sees you less, he thinks of you more. It drives him insane.

When he goes on his assisted strolls with healers, he sometimes catches sight of you, running errands, training, walking with your sector’s soldiers. Those moments are always special to him because even seeing your face is enough to make him feel a little bit better. But he wonders if you ever notice him. He might be imagining it—he really hopes he is—but he thinks you might be avoiding him. In fact, everyone has. Soldiers do not even bow in his presence anymore, which is fine since that’s what he’s always wanted… Still, the sudden switch is unsettling.

He hasn’t talked to Lieutenant Ki since their argument, which means he hasn’t been getting updates on the officer meetings and the logistics of what’s been going on in his army. But he also can’t bring himself to seek after her and scold her for keeping him in the dark. There’s a large part of him that feels guilty for that day. He had been the one who had raised his voice at Lieutenant Ki first; he had been the one who had been purposefully ignorant and stubborn and irrational and stupid. He had also been the one who had been so oblivious to her internal stress and struggles. So in the end, he can’t necessarily blame her for keeping her distance. And seeing that there haven’t been any more disasters, Lieutenant Ki’s been running things smoothly around here, so he doesn’t really feel the need to interfere, either.

But he misses the presence of his officers. He misses having visitors other than healers in his tent. He misses those morning walks with you, your conversations (no matter how short), your voice, your smile, your company. Should he apologize to you?

But why? For barring you from completing your true duty as a second sector captain? For indirectly confessing his feelings to you when he’s your superior? For being born as the heir to the Solarian Army? For not reaching out to you first?

How pathetic would it seem if he tried to get ahold of you through one of the healers? But he can’t bear seeing you now—not when you’ve been actively avoiding him. Not when he’s surely done something wrong.

Mornings and nights alone in his tent are beginning to get quite lonely. He learns how to deal with the pain, his aching body, but it’s not so easy to learn to be alone with his own thoughts. He often feels powerless, stranded on his cot, with no one but himself and the figments of his past, haunting him. It feels like circas since he’s last dealt with his duties as the General. His brisk morning walks around the edge of the campgrounds morph into a mourning session within the burial grounds. He visits his brother, his sister, his mother, father, grandparents and his ancestors… He even visits Doyun, but those visits rarely do anything except make him feel worse. The hours of the day begin to blend together—to the point where he can no longer differentiate between morning and night.

He’s helpless—physically unwell and mentally fatigued. Yet, he doesn’t know what to do about it. At this point in time, he wonders if he’s old news. If the rest of the army has accepted the fact that Lieutenant Ki is now their new General. If he’s been disposed of.

He should be angry. Angry that he’s lost his position, his respect. Angry that he’s fumbled what the Min Clan has built and prided themselves in for centuries. Angry that he’s useless. That he slipped from his high seating, unable to claw his way back up. Angry that you haven’t been talking to him. Angry that Lieutenant Ki no longer looks up to him.

But he isn’t angry. Is it sadness? Despair?

No.

He simply feels numb.

He’d rather feel something. Anything.

The weather has been getting colder these days, but even the cold doesn’t seem to bother him. But then again, the healers have also spoiled him with a few extra blankets and a couple of more oil lamps, which he believes he doesn’t deserve.

Even the good news that his shoulder’s been doing better doesn’t change anything.

But that’s when he hears your voice. “Sir?”

He nearly jumps up from his cot, which could have single-handedly reversed the hard work of the healers, but he manages to remain calm as he slowly rises. His balance wavers as he creeps closer to the entrance of his tent. Is that really you? He isn’t hearing things, is he? Has he regressed in health? Has he missed your voice so much that he’s beginning to hear things that aren’t there?

“Sir?” you call again. “May I come in?”

No, that’s definitely you.

He doesn’t know why after all these weeks you want to see him now. Still, he can’t help the hasty, “Of course,” that spills habitually from his lips.

You immediately part the curtains, walk into his tent and meet him face to face. You’re startled, probably not expecting him to have already gotten up from his cot. “O-Oh!” you say. “You’re standing.” Then, you look at your feet as if you’ve already humiliated yourself in front of him.

“I am,” Yoongi admits. He pauses. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m sorry.” You really do look apologetic.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I imagine you’ve been busy.”

“I have,” you reply, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“Have you been well?”

You shift your feet. “Yes.”

“Good,” he says. “Good.”

Unbearable silence.

Why is the atmosphere tense? Where is the comfort, the warmth that he usually finds when he’s with you? Why are you being so curt? Why do you refuse to look at him? Is he that repulsive to you? Do you no longer feel the same? Are you angry at him?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi frowns. “There’s no need to apologize for being busy.”

“I-It’s… It’s not that,” you say. You mumble something so quietly that he doesn’t quite catch it.

“Sorry?” he says.

“I’m here to come to an agreement,” you say quietly.

“An agreement?” he asks, frown deepening. “Whatever for?”

“For my duties as a captain,” you say, head still lowered.

“Oh.” Has it really been about this all along? You’ve been avoiding him because of his decision to bar you from the battlefields? “Unfortunately, I have already made my decision,” he says, voice soft. “I’m sorry, but I’m not open to any negotiations.”

“I’m… I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice,” you say, and for the first time since you’ve entered his tent, you look up. Your eyes are surprisingly void of emotion, despite your quivering voice, and you look stern, eyes unblinking and mouth set in a stern line. “Your army has agreed on serving Lieutenant Ki—and only Lieutenant Ki—until you allow me to fulfill my duties as the second sector captain.”

He blinks. Then he blinks again. Impossible. It sounds rehearsed. As if those words would never come out of your mouth without another’s influence. But Lieutenant Ki would never stoop this low… would she? And even if she did, to have you be the one to break this news to him?

“Am I being threatened with usurpation?” he asks. It surprises him how calm he is at the moment, how well he’s taking the news.

His composed behavior even seems to surprise you as you struggle to find your next words. “It won’t be a threat if you only allow me to do what my title entails,” you say, eyes pleading.

“Did Lieutenant Ki put you up to this?”

“That doesn’t matter,” you say. “I want this. I’m the one who wants to risk my life for this nation. Please. Don’t try to stop me.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I’ve already been cut off from the army. No one except healers has visited my tent until now.”

“I don’t want you to be humiliated,” you whisper. “That was never my intent. But…”

“But you would risk my humiliation and authority to fight for Solaria.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you say, frowning. “We aren’t doing this because we don’t respect you. We just… This was the most effective solution we, I mean, I could think of.”

He hums. “Even if I don’t accept the agreement, things will still go your way.”

“It’s true. Lieutenant Ki would see to it that I would be allowed to fight.”

“Then this isn’t really a fair solution, isn’t it?”

“Well… Yes. Since it was created with only one outcome in mind,” you say, though you look sorry about it.

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Unfortunately not.”

“How much of this was your idea?”

You seem visibly thrown off by his question—and rightfully so. But he’s curious. Threatening usurpation is traditionally punishable by death. Of course, Yoongi had always been willing to break that tradition. Yet… who had thought so little of him that they believed this threat would back him into a corner and force him to make an agreement?

“All of it,” you say. But you’re lying. Years and years of experience in the interrogation room have taught him how to differentiate between truth and fabrication. “I didn’t ever mean for things to get so big,” you admit. “I’m sorry.”

So you’re protecting the person (or persons) who gave you the idea. He has his suspects, of course, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to fish that information out of you today. He sighs, shaking his head. He just wants this to be over. But for Sooht’s sake, she should’ve known—the person who orchestrated this entire ordeal—she should’ve known better. Lieutenant Ki should’ve predicted that threatening his position would do more than force him into a corner with his tail tucked between his legs. In a covert sense, it would single-handedly undermine his authority. Doesn’t she know that for years he had been insecure about the power he had at the tips of his fingers? Did she really have to come for something that he was already so unsure about? And to use you as her messenger!

But despite his thoughts, a simple, “I hope you don’t regret it, Officer,” leaves his mouth.

That single sentence brightens your entire face. “I won’t, sir,” you say. “I promise I won’t regret it at all.”

Though he loves seeing you smile, he can only seem to sigh today. “You are authorized for one low-stake battle. Your performance will be assessed, and only after I approve will you be able to fight regularly. Understood?”

“Oh, yes, sir!” you say. “Completely understood.”

He can’t answer, too consumed by his own thoughts. Is it the feeling of betrayal that seems to be weighing heavy in his mind? Or is it worry? He knows it’s selfish of him to extend his power to protect you, but after all the deaths he’s encountered throughout his lifetime, is it so wrong to hang on to just one person?

“I told you it would work!” Suhyun exclaims, smiling widely as she moves in to embrace you. “I just didn’t think it’d barely take ten minutes. He agreed much quicker than I’d anticipated. But nevertheless, congratulations, Y/N! You deserve to fight for Solaria.”

“Thanks, Suhyun,” you say, but you still feel uneasy from the entire conversation. “I just don’t know if we should’ve threatened usurpation…”

“It’s not like we really did it,” she says, patting your back. “I only gave the soldiers a stern talk about not bowing to the General anymore—at least until he’s able to fight again. They did wonder why,” she adds after noticing the doubtful look on your face. “But I only told them that he wanted to step away from his work for a little bit during his recovery, and his soldiers bowing would remind him of the work he wasn’t doing. They seemed to believe me. Besides, this was really the only idea I had that would realistically work. And it did!”

You nod. “I’m glad it worked, but…”

“But you worry that he won’t be happy with you.”

You look up at her shocked at how easily she read your mind. “Y-Yes. That’s exactly it. If he thinks we backed him into a corner, then of course he won’t be very pleased with us. I don’t want him to think we were trying to subvert his authority. Suhyun, I’m pretty sure what we just did—even if it wasn’t real—is technically a punishable crime.”

“Traditionally, yes,” Suhyun says. “But the General tries to step away from the more extreme practices of his clan. I think it worked out fine. Sure, there are some things that could have gone better, but don’t you think the benefits outweigh the costs?” Even you have to admit that she looks a little disappointed with you. It’s almost as if she’s wordlessly saying, ‘If you have so many issues with my idea, then why did you agree to go through with it anyway?’ But maybe she’s right. Maybe you came off too strong. Maybe you’re being ungrateful. It’s thanks to Suhyun and her encouragement that you’re now able to fight for Solaria once more—after years of being unable to. Yet…

“What if he hates me now?”

Suhyun raises her eyebrows. “If anything, Y/N, the General will begin to resent me.”

“You?” you ask, eyes widening. “But I told him that it was my idea.”

Suhyun just smiles. “Y/N, he’s not stupid. He can see through lies most of the time. I’ve known him for a long time; just as he’s known me for the same amount. He’ll know I’m the only one who could suggest just a preposterous idea… and have it actually work.”

“But Suhyun, I’m not sure if that’s the best case, either! You’re his lieutenant, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be his supporting officer?”

“I took a calculated risk,” she says with a shrug. “I agree with you, of course. It wasn’t right of me to threaten to take his position, but how else would he understand the gravity of the situation? I’m sure he’ll be wary of me now, but I did what I did for you. And for the good of the army.”

“Do you really think I’ll be of help on the battlefield?” you ask. “I… I don’t know if I’m worth all these calculations and plans and risks.”

“Even if you aren’t, which you are,” Suhyun says, “I think it’s best to enforce the duties of those in the army. Resentment grows when things are unfair, and I’d rather have an unhappy General than unhappy soldiers. And it’s not that I don’t want the General to be happy… I care about him too, Y/N. It’s just that I would never want to hear the things the soldiers have said about his brother to him. The General was being stubborn and irrational, and he said himself that he would never want to rule like his family. All I did was suggest that we slap some sense into him. For his own good.”

“It sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought,” you say. “And you’re right. I agree with everything that you’ve said. I just—I worry.”

“I know,” Suhyun says. “The General does too.” She shakes her head, sighing out loud. “I respect him. I really do. It’s not his fault he was injured, and I can’t blame him for being stubborn, either. I know he struggles with his own authority, and sometimes it just ends up manifesting in unexplained, uncompromising orders. But I also know how betrayed he might feel. I did try talking to him; that was a bust. I didn’t know what else to turn to but this.” She sighs again, glancing over at you while twisting the rings on her fingers. “Let’s hope I didn’t miscalculate.”

You hope so too.

In the end, you got what you wanted. You’ll soon begin your rigorous training and finally, fight the first battle of your memory. But why? Why do you feel so shitty about it?

⨰ previous | series m.list | next

⨰ a/n: gasp! the second to last chapter before the second act??? it's unbelievable how far we've come with this story :) i'll save my official thoughts for ch. 25, but just know that i am so grateful to you for coming this far and reading about my characters' stories!

please consider telling me your thoughts with a comment, an ask or a reblog :) i love hearing readers' impressions/rambles/predictions! if you want to join the taglist, send in a private message, ask, reply to this post or reblog with your request!

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slow-button-off · 7 months

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As a Ferrari fan, does all the clown jokes ever annoy you? Like yesterday I was so irritated with all the "one team won't be able to count to 18, you know which one" and "oh no, Ferrari have to do 6 pitstops" etc, etc. Like if people have actually been paying attention, their pitstops this year have been some of the best, and they haven't really made any big strategy blunders this year iirc. I hope the team doesn't see any of this, because it can be so demoralizing to have improved in these areas and actually outperform your rivals in pitstops, but then be the one that's having memes made about you. I get it will take a while for opinions to change after so many years of mess ups and I know the same rules dont apply to Ferrari as it's the biggest/most successful team etc, but there are other teams who have bigger mess ups more often - alpine, AM, McLaren, all the back marker teams. Like I would be more worried about a Mercedes pitstop than a Ferrari pitstop this year, yet they don't get all the jokes. Even their strategies and indecisiveness is questionable at times, and has been so for years. It's just when they had a dominant car, they could take long to make decisions and could take longer for pitstops. Anyway, its also why it annoys me when people say carlos is the one making the strategy just because they see selective team radios being played. There's a whole team that's worked very hard to improve and yes, at times it's like "hmm, what you doing", but for the most part they haven't had any noticeable screw ups like last year and to attribute all that hard work to a driver who talks too much on team radio and had his ass saved by the strategy team more often than he's made good decisions must be annoying for the team.

it annoys me a lot. because sometimes it is 100% justified but people make mistakes out of things that weren't actually mistakes.

Mercedes aren't better at strategy the only reason it's not a talking point is because nobody noticed while they were dominating because their car was so good it didn't matter. And even know it hasn't caught on yet but they've made more and worse strategy mistakes than Ferrari this year.

The Carlos thing pisses me off because a) like you said is discredits the entire rest of the team and b) it's not based on facts. Every single time people credit Carlos with a strategic decision it wasn't actually his decision and most often he didn't even have anything to do with it.

and particularly using Qatar and saying "oh Carlos did the strategy that's why it worked" would be an insult if you think Carlos is good at strategy because this was the simplest strategy ever. max out all the tyres you have. hardly an achievement.

#asks asks asks

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snowcandyz · 2 years

Text

The Letter Under The Shoes [Part 4]

Genre: Dark, Heavy angst

Summary: What exactly happened between MC and the brothers?

TW: Toxic relationship (friends/family), cursing (bad language), mentions of killing and some mild descriptions, mentions of self-sacrifice/su*cide. Also contains a spoiler for Chapter 16

It started as a blunder; a slip of tongue.

A mistake that should be forgiven with the word ‘Sorry’.

“Lilith, what do you think of this fluffy sweater I just bought? Cute, right?”

The stinging pain in their chest made MC press their lips into a thin line.

It’s only a mistake.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I meant, MC,” Asmo sighed heavily, “What’s wrong with me today… Anyway, what do you think of this sweater, MC?”

See? Asmo apologised! Don’t take it to heart…

Convincing themselves, they tried giving him a small smile before replying, “I think they’re great, Asmo. Maybe you could match it with the jeans you bought yesterday?”

“Ooh! You’re a genius! I’m so glad to have you as my sister!” Asmo went running to his room after saying the last sentence.

Perhaps he was too thrilled to realise he had made yet another mistake.

But they paid it no mind.

It’s okay. They understand the brothers’ situation.

Losing your sibling could be very painful, and they sympathised with that.

They really do.

MC’s sure the brothers didn’t mean it. Maybe it’d go away after a while? Perhaps three days after discovering the truth weren’t enough for them to grow out of the shock?

Although it kinda hurt when no one asked how MC was doing after the incident. Especially since they were the most affected by Belphegor’s action…

But it’s fine! They kept telling themselves.

I should be fine; said MC as tears started streaming down their face.

Inhaling deeply, they cracked a smile and wiped their tears, very optimistic that the brothers won’t do the same mistake ever again.

And how they wished for that to happen.

“Lilith, I got this new game from Akuzon! We can try this together! You’ve always loved this kind of game, right?”

“Hmm? Are you having trouble with your schoolwork? You know you can always come to me for help. You’ve always depended on me since before, so don’t hesitate now.”

“Ya had nightmares? It’s okay; big brother Mammon is here to help ya! Do you remember those times when ya keep sneakin’ to my room 'cause of it?”

“Lilith, help me! I can’t find Belphie anywhere! We used to play hide and seek together, right? Maybe you can help me find him? You must have known his usual hiding places too.”

No matter how much 'I’m fine’ they muttered to themselves, the pain kept getting worse and worse lately.

But it’s okay, right?

If the brothers thought of MC as their sister, maybe MC could accept the brothers as their own too?

It should be okay; yes, it should be.

Maybe MC could ignore the names and act as if their new pet name is Lilith?

Yeah, it wasn’t so bad after all! Lilith is a good name…

But those eyes; those hopeful eyes.

Searching, seeking and silently hoping they’d find the resemblance of their dead sister in MC.

…

Maybe MC could just avoid looking directly at the brothers when they’re talking to them…?

…

Or maybe MC’s the one at fault here. Because they didn’t stop this before it was too late. And now, they’re left with this mess.

“If someday, someone didn’t see your worth, know that you’re unique in your own way. You don’t have to keep living under their expectations.”

Will that apply to this situation too?

What is right or wrong? When exactly should they stop the brothers from going too far? And how should they do that when–

When the guiltiest of all didn’t apologise to them yet.

MC peeked into the planetarium and saw Belphegor lying down peacefully in the pillow fort he made. The creaking sound from the door awakened him from his short nap.

“Oh, it’s you.” Belphegor gave them a smile before lying back down and staring at the stars above. His movements were very laid back, showing no remorse or guilt whatsoever.

The pain inside their chest intensified after witnessing his attitude. The incident that happened a week ago was still fresh in their mind.

The tight grip on their neck. Those iron tastes in their mouth. The way his eyes screamed for them to die.

“Beel was looking for you…” The sentence came out softer than intended.

He yawned, utterly oblivious to MC’s current state, “He did? Then just tell him I’m here.”

Calming their trembling hands, MC gathered the courage to ask a question that has been lingering inside their mind throughout this week, “Hey… if… if I wasn’t… you know, if I wasn’t Lilith’s descendant… would you kill me again… during that time?”

The air around the room shifted from serene to one thick with tension.

“Yes.”

The reply was curt but soft as if he was whispering. But to MC, it was loud and deafening.

An answer that further broke their heart.

————-

After listening to the seventh born confession, MC was left with their dark thoughts. After all the efforts they had made for this family… After crossing timelines just to reunite them back together… After trusting them despite being nagged multiple times not to trust demons…

'I’m tire–

“MC?” They were startled in their seat.

A voice had shattered those dark scenarios that haunted their mind. Turning around to look at the caller, they smiled, “Yes, Satan? Need anything?”

“I was just wondering if you’d like to help me cook today. It’s fine if you don’t want to, though. I’m sure you’re pretty tired.”

“It’s alright, let me help.”

Taking a deep breath, MC smiled again; full of sincerity this time.

Being with the fourth born calmed the raging thoughts inside their head. At least those voices that called their name didn’t hope for someone else.

And at least Satan treated them for who they are. And those clear, sincere eyes of his; a sense of camaraderie with the Avatar of Wrath.

Thus, it’s no doubt for the fourth born to be the only one who thought something was wrong.

“What the fuck… Are you serious?” Satan’s sudden cursing made the brothers turn their heads toward the fourth born. Satan is a gentleman. As much as the others portrayed him as a ball of fury and ready to explode anytime, he wouldn’t curse without any good reason.

And most of the time, the reason was that he was angry.

“The fuck you called MC? Lilith?”

At his question, the brothers went silent.

“Lilith is gone! Why are you calling them Lilith? They’re MC! The human?! The exchange student?! They’re not Lilith!”

MC couldn’t hold back their tears any longer. Perhaps hearing the words coming out of someone else’s mouth made it harder to control their emotions.

Satan’s words from back then rang inside their mind again and again, “Why do you keep hurting yourself, MC? You could’ve just spoken up about this. This isn’t okay and you know it! Stop trying to consider others’ feelings when your own was hurting!”

As much as MC knew he was right, they had no other choice than to shut up and bite their tongue. 'It wasn’t that easy, Satan…’

Although the name-calling had stopped after his outburst, MC knew it wasn’t over.

Yes, the brothers finally realised their mistakes and have been trying hard to make it up to MC, but those eyes are still there. They’re watching and observing their every move; silently wishing they could indulge in MC’s presence and call them their 'Lilith’.

———–

Too many questions.

Too much blame.

But nothing could ever bring MC back.

If only he realised this sooner. If only he had stopped this before it was too late. If only he didn’t let go of their hand this morning.

Satan knew it all. And maybe that’s why he’s the most frustrated out of all.

The letter in his hand only engulfed him further into despair.

’-and for always backing me up. Thank you for accepting me for who I am. I’ll never forget your help.

About this letter that you found in your book, please don’t mind it too much. When I went to your room to return these books, I knew you’d be sleeping. So don’t blame yourself for not staying awake.

Even if you had talked to me that night, I still can’t guarantee whether I’ll be there by your side when you read this letter. I’m sorry for hurting you, Satan. As I said, I’ve already made up my mind.

Live happily with your brothers, and don’t hold grudges. They’re hurt by Lilith’s loss. That much, I understand. And it’s not really their fault in the first place…

Again, I can’t thank you enough for these years.

You’re my one true friend. Thank you, Satan. I love you.

-MC’

Satan could only crumble the paper in his hand as he shed his tears in defeat.

His room was messy, even messier than before. The rampage he did earlier proved worthy because he discovered MC’s letter between the pages of the book left by them last night.

He was heartbroken.

Satan could be the key to saving MC.

He is their friend; the one they talked to the most.

He is their companion; the one they often confided in.

And he’s the only one other than Diavolo and Barbatos to know who Daniel really is.

But now, he’s too late.

If only he didn’t let go of their hand this morning.

———

“I don’t understand… Why do you need to know what happened to the people who–” Diavolo sighed before continuing, “MC, look, it’s confidential information. I can’t tell you. I’m really sorry.”

“Please! Just this once, and I won’t ask again. Please, Diavolo?” they pleaded.

“MC, I’m sorry but I really can’t tell you.”

Barbatos was silent beside his Master. He wouldn’t dare interrupt their conversation, although his facial expression depicted obvious concern for MC’s questions.

“Although I have to ask, what makes you think they’re here in the Devildom anyway?”

“Because my mother said the ones who took their own life will end up here,” a melancholy smile that painted their lips didn’t go unnoticed by the Demon Prince and his butler, “I know I’m asking too much, but can I please have some closure on what happened to my brother?”

Taglist: @not-a-cat-lawyer

| Masterlist |

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ficreadergirl · 1 year

Text

Dangerous Inquiries (ch.26)

The sound of footsteps woke you up. You opened your eyes groggily. You noticed that the sun was already shining through the windows of Jason's bedroom. You stretched and yawned. You slowly sat up in the bed. For a moment, you couldn't remember why exactly you were sleeping in Jason's bed, then you remembered yesterday. Your graduation and everything that had happened afterwards. You were still kind of stunned at the whole thing. Not knowing what to think or what to feel anymore. All you knew was that you were exhausted. You rubbed your forehead in hopes of clearing your mind of all the memories. The soft knock on the door startled you.

"Y/n?" Jason's voice sounded hesitant. "Are you awake yet?" he asked.

"Yes I am." you replied shortly before standing up and walking over to the door. You opened it to find him standing there awkwardly.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, trying not to make eye contact. His hands were in his pockets and he avoided your gaze.

"Yes... I slept fine actually." you answered. He looked at you weirdly as if he didn't believe you. "Really?" he questioned.

"Did something happen?" you questioned in return.

"No no, just... I thought you..." he trailed off, unable to finish what he wanted to say. You raised an eyebrow questioningly, clearly waiting for him to finish.

"You thought what?" you asked him impatiently. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"It doesn't matter." he mumbled. "Anyway, I assume you're hungry after everything happened." he said changing the subject abruptly. You nodded in confirmation. He turned around and started walking towards his kitchen. You followed closely behind him.

"You cook breakfast?" you asked surprised. He chuckled lightly.

"Well... I did my best." he admitted modestly.

"Who taught you?" you questioned in wonder. His expression instantly darkened at your question. You could see a flash of hurt cross his features before they returned to normal. It was silent for awhile again.

"I learned basics myself." he said simply. As he poured coffee in one of the cups, he handed it to you.

"Thanks." you thanked him silently. He nodded in response and grabbed another cup for himself. You waited until he finished pouring the coffee before speaking again. "I'm sorry if I made a blunder but I found almost nothing about you online." you revealed honestly. He turned around and looked at you, a sad look in his eyes.

"Why are you apologizing?" he asked confused.

"I felt like... I just uhm... upset you just there." you admitted. He looked at you for a few seconds before shaking his head slightly.

"Nothing to worry about." he assured you.

"Do you wanna talk about anything?" you asked him curiously.

"Not really." he replied shortly before taking a sip of his coffee. You looked at him for a while before deciding to drop the topic. You sat there watching the man beside you as you ate your meal. His eyes never left the plate. He was barely touching his food. Every once in a while he would pick up his fork and push the food around his plate. He seemed lost in thought so much that he hadn't spoken since you'd sat down.

"It's delicious. You should eat it." you spoke breaking the quietness surrounding you.

"Huh?" he asked in surprise as he snapped out of his daze.

"You haven't touched your plate." you explained calmly, gesturing to his food. "Eat your plate.".

Jason looked down at his plate, studying his food. Slowly, he picked up his fork and began eating. You stayed quiet, watching him as he continued to eat his food. You were just about to ask him if he was alright when suddenly the door knocked.

"Jason!! You son-" Dick yelled from the other side of the door.

"Dick!! Calm down!" Kory scolded.

You and Jason exchanged glances before standing up. He quickly walked to his door and opened it. You blinked in surprise when you saw the scene that greeted your eyes. Dick held Jason up against the wall, his fist tightly clenched as he glared at him. Behind them, Kory was trying to hold him back.

"Wasn't the murder enough for-" Dick began angrily.

"Dick!! Shut up!!" Kory shouted cutting him off. "Let Jason go please." she pleaded. Dick didn't seem very willing to comply with her request however.

"Stop it Dick." you said stepping forward between him and Jason. Dick looked up at you and then let Jason go. He glared daggers at Jason.

"After all you've done you spent a night with her without ashamed?" he said in disgust. "She deserves to know about you don't you think?" he spat.

"It's none of your damn business. Just take her home with you." Jason replied coldly.

#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood #jason todd

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years

Text

Intuitives and the Scary Wide World

I just graduated around 1 month and I've been at home for all this time. I've been anxious the entire time. Before I graduated, I have this dream and that dream, but right now it feels ever more like up cliff battle. Not just uphill, but up the cliff. There are so many things right now that I have to consider. So many inputs from people in my life that I feel like it's overwhelming. Every step I take to advance is like walking on the minefield. I held off job application for almost a month after I applied for the first place (which, of course, they ghosted me). It was so stressful, I felt like everything could go wrong under the radar - wrong format, forgetting some documents, speaking inappropriately. I did manage to get the first one going, then I ignored it for almost a month, indulging in food and pc.

Yesterday I posted on one subreddit of the country I plan to settle in the future. My aim was to build networks and all. The response was very, very positive they are VERY nice. But they also demonstrate how naïve I am. I am too invested in my vision (and effectively, in my head) that I don't look at the world in front of me. I didn't research as thoroughly as I should and ended asserting my naivety. I made a blunder and it made me feel horrible. Then I was thinking and thinking it again and again. I felt like it's disconnected, I can only see the picture, but isolated from the path leading to it. Kind of like an island isolated from the shore. And then I felt horrible and overwhelmed. I tried forcing myself to come up with the game plan, but it kept being incomplete. Why? Because I lack real world experience thus lack the resources to pull from. But I still tried forcing it until I couldn't and fell into panic.

Thanks to my ESTP aunt though, she told to just focus on the here and now instead. Since I know what I will do in the future, that's alright. No need to plan everything to smallest detail that far off. Just focus on the present and what needs to be done. That pulled me out of that planning rut. What I need to do now is to find a job, so I have work experience, hence a leverage to apply in that country. And there is no guarantee in this world, what we have to do is to not think and just do it. Apply for jobs, apply as many times as you could, within 100 applications, maybe 2 will contact you back. You won't get good salary, it might not worth the effort, but we have to do it, to survive. We need to force ourselves to do it, it is scary, I know. But unless we face it head on, how can what we want in life even happen? If you don't have experience or not having solid, practical knowledge, there is no way your dream can ever come true.

The real world is scary, but we have to face it. So, if you need to know more, research it. Don't fear that it'll prove your dream is impossible. Use that knowledge to find a way around it instead. To go out and live in the real world is scary and unpredictable. But we have to face it. Think about the thing so much more that you dream for the world, use it as a beacon and take a step. Think of all the people you will meet in the future, of all the change you and your people can bring. None of that will happen unless you face that wide, scary world.

As for me, it's going to be hard, very hard. Maybe 5 years, 10 years, but I won't let my people, whose path will cross with mine, down.

So, fellow intuitives, if you fear to take a step, know that you are not alone. We are in this together and there are many who feel you.

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PS. And do listen and talk with sensors in your life. They are much more skilled at making things happen that we are. Best listen to what they have to say. As for me, without my ISFJ friend, ESFJ mother and ESTP aunt, I doubt I would even take a firm step at all.

#submission #advice #intuitives

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raitrolling · 9 months

Text

Cracking Up

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

The tweet was a half-truth at best. Velour did not have any private clients requesting an urgent last-minute commission, but he did need the couple nights off to recover before he could return to his jobs as a fashion designer and YouTuber.

The problem was that the truth was much stranger than fiction.

A notebook sat in the cuspblood’s lap, its cover unassuming from first glance. But if one were to flip it open and read its contents, they would find a series of disjointed thoughts scrawled onto the pages. A combination of facts related to the trolls Velour knew, and what appeared to be snippets from his subconscious mind. Occasionally, new sentences would make their way into the book, without the use of any writing implement.

It was a result of a powerful spell formulated by Jikiro and Hanabi, then cast by Velour, which partitioned off a portion of his natural magic that caused him to passively absorb information from others away from his own mind, and into the book’s pages. Something that had become increasingly more of a concern as his magic grew stronger and he took on more abilities not unlike the kitsune that should have raised him, and knew he needed to find a way to redirect the kinds of magic a troll’s mind would not be able to handle, no matter how drastic the action had to be.

In this case, the redirection spell knocked him out for a full day, and made him feel completely drained of magical energy for even longer.

He had left the Takami estate yesterday, finally feeling capable of getting out of bed and staying awake for more than an hour, but still spent his time at his own hive doing nothing but napping on the couch and snacking on fried tofu. Inexplicably, he always ended up craving that after using his magic, and even more inexplicably, it always helped him recover his energy faster.

Velour knew he had to recover as quickly as possible, otherwise his fans would start to worry about his long absence, and he could only doctor so many scraps of fabric into looking like extreme close-ups of his ‘urgent commission’ using Jikiro’s specialty inks before someone would notice he was lying.

And, judging by the knock on the door, someone did.

“Hey, you’re not dead in there, are you?”

Velour’s anxiety was almost instantly alleviated when he recognised the voice on the other side of the door, and slipped the notebook into his modus before he got up to let his neighbour in.

Aiolos looked none-too-impressed when his eyes met the cuspblood’s, and that sour expression turned to one of shock after he looked Velour up and down.

“Jesus Christ Vel, are those sweatpants? The situation is more dire than I thought.”

“Ah, nice to meet you again too, Aiolos,” Velour smiled sheepishly, brushing a hand against the offending garment in question. “I had some leftover fabric a while ago, so I thought I’d make something cosy to wear on my nights off.”

Aiolos gave him a look like he had just spontaneously grown a second head as he made his way into the apartment, and plopped himself on the couch like he has done hundreds of times in the past.

“I have known you since we were wrigglers, and I know you don’t just take ‘nights off’. You work yourself into a near-nervous breakdown stressing over deadlines weeks in advance! Also, what happened to that urgent client of yours?”

Velour went blank, realising he outed his own lie.

“Ah, well, I’m just… Taking care of my own health! Because this job requires my full attention, so I don’t want to make any mistakes because I’m a bit sleepy!” The kitsune troll clapped his hands together and put on a well-practised smile to try and cover up his blunder.

Aiolos quirked an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “So, can I see the commission?”

Velour’s smile fell, and he sunk back into the couch like he was attempting to become one with it. The other blueblood snorted.

“Yeah, thought so.” He clicked his fingers, then pointed at Velour. “So, alright, spill. What’s got you hiding away from your hoity-toity celebrity schtick? I know this isn’t like you at all, so something’s up.”

Velour paused, looking down at his lap. He couldn’t lie to Aiolos, someone who has known him long enough to see through his lies immediately, but there’s no way in hell he’d believe the truth. He’s always been someone who scoffed at anything even slightly out of the ordinary, and he gave everyone in their old friend group a hard time for the tiniest things. Velour’s love of dolls and being scared of the horror movies they watched together when they were young, Liiore’s shyness and eventual decision to go anon, and Mikiel’s… Everything.

But, what else could he say? If he just said he was feeling tired, Aiolos would push for a better explanation anyway, regardless of if Velour wanted to give one or not. He’s never been the type to treat someone overly softly, and tends to cover up his concern for others with insistent prickliness. He cares for his friends, but in a way that sometimes disregards their feelings because he refuses to come across as someone capable of being so mushy.

It reminded him of his own moirail, in a way, but Jamie was much softer towards him. But, if Jamie could wrap his head around magic…

The cuspblood took in a deep breath.

“You’re not going to believe me, but… I’ve been practicing magic.”

The silence that filled the room was deafening. Even the clock on the wall seemed to have stopped during this exact moment.

Aiolos opened his mouth, gestured as if he was about to speak, reconsidered, made another vague hand gesture, and then finally opted to put his hand to his forehead.

“Velour.”

“No, I’m telling the truth, I swear!” The kitsune troll held up both hands in a show that he had nothing to hide. “And, well- I’d give you proof, but… The reason why I’m taking time off is because I cast a spell that was so powerful I’ve… Used up all my magical energy for the time being.”

He smiled sheepishly as a small chuckle escaped his mouth. He knew exactly how unbelievable it sounded, but what else was he meant to say?

Aiolos gave him a deadpan look, and there was another long silence before a loud sigh left his mouth. He shook his head.

“Alright. So. Let’s get this straight. You’re taking time off, because you’ve tired yourself out playing with magic. Like full-on, Harry Potter Wizards of Waverly Place magic, which we all know is definitely real.”

Velour averted his eyes.

“And you can’t prove to me that magic is real and you can cast spells, because conveniently you’ve used up all your magical energy?”

Velour hesitantly nodded, still not giving his neighbour any eye contact.

“And you expect me, your friend who has known you for your entire life, to just believe that you’ve always been a ‘mage’, when you never brought it up before, ever?”

Velour gave another hesitant nod. “Well-”

Aiolos cut him off.

“Magic. Fucking magic! Good lord, what’s next? You have a matesprit, but they live in East Alternia and don’t like photos so I can never meet them in person?”

The look on Velour’s face was evident that he would have liked to correct his friend and tell him that actually it’s his moirail who lives there and it’s only a temporary residency, but knowing that would be a bad idea, he kept his head down and his lips pursed.

Aiolos groaned, throwing his hands up in disbelief, then - to the surprise of the kitsune troll - slapped one of his hands onto Velour’s shoulder. The cuspblood flinched. The other blueblood should have known that was his bad shoulder, but he had other concerns.

“Vel, you need help.” Aiolos’ tone was almost uncharacteristically concerned, had he not been speaking to his childhood friend. “Look, I don’t know what that psycho fish bitch put into your head, but-”

“It- It’s not that!” Velour waved his hand, attempting to calm the other troll down. “I’ve… Gotten over what happened with Veruco, at least as well as anyone could.”

“By what? Playing pretend? Getting really into larping as a wizard? Yeah, real picture of mental health right there, nothing says ‘I got over it’ like telling me you’ve become buddies with Ron Weasley.” The antelope troll scoffed.

“I… Knew you wouldn’t believe me, but I am telling the truth,” Velour attempted to sound more insistent, but Aiolos has never been the type to back down.

“Uh-huh. Just like how you were telling the truth about your mysterious urgent client? Is he in the room with us right now?” He mockingly looked around as if he was looking for some sort of spectre, and the cuspblood looked down again in shame. “Look, Vel… You’re falling apart. You haven’t had a break from your own life since you were six, and now look at you. Getting caught getting cosy with your creepy fans and needing to make an apology video for it, believing in magic like a wriggler, hiding away in your hive and dressing like you’re just about to settle down for a sad romantic movie marathon while crying into a tub of ice-cream… As your friend, I gotta keep it real with you. Take a longer break, and get help, or I’ll make you get help.”

Velour scrunched up his face. He couldn’t deny that a lot has gone wrong in his life, and yet he kept trundling on trying to pick up the pieces as they fell. A break would be well-deserved, but… An extended hiatus would bring rumours and speculation about his current mental health, it would cause discourse amongst his fans that he wouldn’t be able to control, the media and paparazzi would get involved, and it would just explode way out of proportion.

Not to mention, apart from his current exhaustion, he felt completely fine. In fact, this has been the most content he’s been in sweeps.

He shook his head.

“Thanks for worrying about me, Aiolos. But I’ll be fine after a few days, so I don’t think I need the break.”

Aiolos looked at him, then out of the corner of his eye spied Velour’s phone sitting on the coffee table. He smirked.

“Fine. We’re doing it my way, then.”

In a single moment, Aiolos had jumped up from the couch, swiped the phone off the table, and then bolted to the other side of the room to make space between himself and his childhood friend. Velour made a panicked noise that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a fox-like yip.

“Aiolos! What- Give that back!” He got off the couch as well, making a move towards Aiolos.

The blueblood snickered as he unlocked the phone.

“Oh my god, your password is still Liiore’s wriggling day?” He jeered, as he began furiously typing up a tweet from Velour’s account.

Velour visibly paled.

“I- I was going to change it, but it’s an easy combination to remember! It’s muscle memory, okay?”

He made a grab for the phone in Aiolos’ hands, but the antelope troll was quicker, nimbly dodging Velour and dancing around him to reach the other side of the room, still typing away at the same time. He was clearly mocking the much slower troll.

“Aiolos, please. You don’t know what you’re doing,” Velour looked over at him, becoming increasingly more worried.

“Yeah, I do. It’s called helping you, because you’ve never been able to help your own damn self without watching everything blow up in your face,” The other troll grinned, but there was a judgmental tinge in his tone.

Velour continued to chase him around the room, Aiolos ducking and weaving around furniture with the phone still firmly in his hand, while Velour was struggling to keep up. Then, in a last ditch effort, he made a lunge for the blueblood, and tackled him to the ground.

“Hey-! Hey! What the hell are you doing, you fucking psychopath?” Aiolos tried to shove Velour off him, but he had already grabbed the blueblood’s wrist to move his hand away.

“Just- Aiolos! Give back my phone!” He whined, and desperately made a grab for it with his free hand, only to be kicked by one of Aiolos’ flailing legs.

“I told you, I’m doing this for your own good! Besides- Ow!” Aiolos was cut off by Velour accidentally smacking him in the face mid-wrestle.

“Sorry!” The kitsune troll apologised, but was quickly back to trying to pry his neighbour’s fingers off the phone. “But, seriously! You don’t understand!”

“You don’t understand, you idiot!”

The two trolls continued to squabble, just like they were children once again. Velour didn’t like doing this, it reminded him too much of what happened between him and Mikiel, but he didn’t know how else to stop Aiolos. The blueblood kept up a good fight, but didn’t have to for long as the cuspblood was suddenly stopped in his tracks by a sound.

Both his phone and his computer lit up and rang out a notification tone. Then another. Then another. Quickly, it was becoming a cacophony of beeps and boops.

Velour froze, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded. Aiolos took this opportunity to shove the cuspblood off him, and Velour barely reacted to getting knocked over.

“Aiolos, did you…?”

Aiolos sighed loudly, picking himself up off the floor.

“I sent the tweet before you tackled me, dumbass. What do you think I was doing while I was running around?” He replied, exasperated.

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

With the amount of notifications flooding in, all his social media pages must be getting inundated with messages from his fans. Not to mention any emails or messages from the media that are certain to follow. What is he meant to do? He can’t just rescind the statement and go ‘haha, sorry! My neighbour posted that :)’ because that would raise even more questions and make his fans lose faith in him for joking about something so serious. But… There’ll be so many rumours, so much speculation, so many interviews and people hounding him for more information, he’d have to make a statement, pretend that he really did have a breakdown and needed the time off, try to reassure his fans that he’s fine now while knowing that every word, every movement will be closely scrutinised as people try to figure out what’s wrong with him…

He felt sick to his stomach.

Aiolos watched his neighbour shudder, struggle to breathe, and fight his way out of a full breakdown. There is a look of regret on his face, but before Velour can notice it, he swallows down those feelings and covers it up with a judgmental frown. He can’t admit that he was wrong now.

“You’ll thank me later,” He said, but in a way that almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself instead.

Velour wasn’t sure he would.

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・°♢ Velour💙 💎 ✨ Charms restocking soon!♢°・ @.velveteenVanities Taking an indefinite hiatus due to mental health concerns, further updates coming soon. 263 replies - 8.8k retweets - 20.2k likes

#drabble #velour #aiolos hummel #diamond dust zone #the one in which vel and aio talk way too much and also vel has More Bad Things happen to him #also pardon the h*rry p*tter mentions i couldnt think of any other generic magic-related pop culture reference aio could make

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