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The Archer | Chapter IX: Safe and Sound (All is Found)
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X
Summary: You and Kiri wander into the unknown in your search for the eldest Sully, whilst he's forced to come to terms with his own mortality and make a choice between a comfortable past and an uncertain future.
Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader
Word Count: 10,5k words
Warnings/notes: angst (lots and lots of angst), mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, some fluff.
A/N: Surprise! This is not the last chapter of The Archer!!! I tried to finish it, I really did, but there was no way to do it justice in just one chapter, so I hope you will be happy to know I am working on the actual last chapter right now and that should hopefully come out on Monday. We're almost at the end and I am incredibly emotional thinking of this series finishing, and I hope you guys have enjoyed coming on this 200k word journey with me. I love you all so so much and thank you for reblogging, for replying, for commenting and following, you mean the world. Enjoy x
↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧
Just close your eyes, the sun is going down
You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now
Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound
You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage.
Even unconscious, the four words swam in your mind, unable to drown them out, their weight drowning you instead.
You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage.
Neteyam knew then, clearer than ever, that something was wrong. This was all wrong. How was he in the forest? How were you here? How were you breathing this air? How were you so tall? When did they come back to the forest? Why was he always in between states of consciousness? What the hell was going on??
He pushed you off him and watched as you confusedly got up and try to shake off the nap with a wobble of your head.
“What the hell, Neteyam?”
His gaze hardened taking you in, taking whoever or whatever you were in, and he spoke angrily.
“Who the hell are you?”
“What do you mean who the hell am I? I’m me.”
“You can’t be you, because you’re human. You can’t be you because you’re as tall as a Na’vi girl and you’re breathing in our air. You haven’t been human in a long time. So who are you?”
He watched as you look at him intently, and your expression finally settled on a look of acknowledgement.
“Ah… you’re finally remembering.”
Neteyam battled a splitting headache as he tried to make sense of something that didn’t make any sort of sense in his mind.
“So, the memory of us in the marui, the morning of us waking up together, swimming, that is real?”
Your brows furrowed at his words, and you looked like you were thinking hard about your next words.
“I don’t know, Neteyam. It might have been real, it most likely was.”
“How can you be you and not remember? Stop fucking playing with me. I’m tired of this, I just want to know the truth.”
Your temper rose quickly, clear as day on your face, just like it always was - you’ve never been able to keep it at bay.
“I’m not playing with you, Neteyam! I can’t help you. I’m here for you, do you understand? You have to figure this out for yourself. I can’t say anything until you figure it out yourself.”
Neteyam sighed deeply, closing his eyes tightly and bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the headache that felt like would break him in two if it kept going. Think, Neteyam.
“Ok, then what can you tell me?”
“I’m here for you. It’s me. I’m just not… fuck. Not the me you know anymore.”
You looked scared as you pushed the last words out, and looked around you for something to happen, darting your eyes to the sky and to the forest enveloping you both. Almost as on command, he felt the world disintegrate around him and his vision dulled, and he knew he was going to sleep again. Your voice screamed at him as you were being pulled from his grasp once more. Don’t leave, don’t leave me again.
“Think of everything that’s happened since you arrived, play it all back. Think of your dreams. Just think, Neteyam. I’m here for you.”
You didn’t know how much time passed when you woke up, but you saw that it was light, so it was at least a few hours. The morphine drip was empty, as you were, and so the pain was back full force, reminding you what you had and what you lost. You had a miscarriage.
You had been pregnant. Your mind fluttered to the pills you kept by your and Neteyam’s mat, the pills you completely forgot about since the return to the tulkun, since the night Neteyam came in you, since you begged him to. The death of Roa and her calf took your attention away the next morning, and then all hell broke loose. You didn’t even know how long it had been since then. A week? A bit more? A week…
There are full years in people’s lives, decades in which life is dull, boring and uneventful. Unwavering truths and comfortable routines, you knew very little of. Your life was always a storm, always chaotic, always moving. Your life was adapt or die always and still, still, there were moments, unfrequent moments where even that chaos was subdued and middling - that was your peace. But then when chaos came, it was a tornado. It was a hurricane ready to tear everything in its path apart. There were no half measures in your life. No little disasters. Only death, only mass destruction, only loss so grave it burned everything good to ashes on the ground.
“Just fucking admit you don’t want to have my kids. You don’t want a family.”
“You know what? You are right. I don’t want a baby with you.”
You did this. You did it once more. You managed to ruin yet another thing in your life, like you couldn’t seem to be able to help yourself. Neteyam was in a coma because of you. Your dad was dead because of you. The baby you spitefully told Neteyam you didn’t want is gone, and you knew then even if Neteyam did come back, he would never forgive you for this. Because you put it out there, in the universe, in the wind, and Eywa heard you. And Eywa listened.
You forcefully removed all the needles in your body and made your way slowly, painfully towards your mate’s still body, and felt blood pouring from within you. Every step hurt so badly it was splitting you in half, and you remembered the pain of the virus slowly taking over your body, slowly eating you from the inside out and it felt like greeting an old, familiar friend. You said a silent thank you to whomever dressed you in thick loincloths that absorbed all the liquid spilling out, and sat down slowly next to Neteyam. You could hear voices from the outside of the marui, your family, whispering away, low voices almost like a hum, almost like a song.
“Neteyam…?” Crying came so easily to you recently it felt like second nature after all this time, so perpetual and constant, it felt like you spent more time doing it than not.
“I’m not trying to rush you or anything… but now would be a really good time for you to wake up. Just… just please wake up.”
“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry. I miss you so much, and I know you probably hate me, and I know you’ll probably hate me even more when you come back, and I am willing to accept it, I am willing to live my whole life earning your forgiveness, but I need you to be in it. I need you. Please, come back to me so I don’t feel so alone anymore.”
What was that?
A voice. Faint and echoed, barely there, but he heard it. Your voice. Your voice swimming in his subconscious, floating in his dormant mind, waking him up.
“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry…”
“…I know you probably hate me…”
“…I need you…”
Another dream enveloped him masterfully, tugging at him until he woke up, in the ship again - that damned ship. A dream he’s had before, a nightmare, horrid and anguished. He braced himself for the pain he already knew was coming, for the terror he’s had to live through so many times now he knew its every beat by heart. The humans. The Avatars. The guns - theirs and his. The noise as the bullets left, the way his mind stopped for a split second every time he heard someone go down because of him, because of his shots. The guilt eating at him, mixed with the anger and rage he felt for his planet, for these monsters, the fear for his siblings, for you, the sick hope that this could all be over soon. He felt it all, he lived it all - over and over and over. The sharp sting as a bullet pierced his body, in one way, out the other. The uneven stream of consciousness. Your body, his family’s bodies, sprawled all over him as he gave his last breath. He saw it all. He lived it all.
He lived it all. Not a dream. A memory.
A memory. His death was a memory.
You finally decided it was time to step into the light of the day outside your marui and face your family, although the thought of having to think about it, speak about it, watch them be sad about it close to made you pass out again. Regardless, you had to brave through it. You had to, because there was still a long road ahead. And you had a job to do now. You had to bury your dad, and then you had to go to the Spirit Tree. Everyone’s eyes shot up to your slow-moving figure as you approached them, a cocktail of emotions on their faces - from shock, to sadness, to curiosity and confusion, to grief, it was all the emotions you were feeling and didn’t want to anymore.
Lo’ak hurried to your side and took an arm and plopped it on his shoulders as one of his hands found yours, and the other your midriff, holding you in place.
“I got you, Angel.”
You smiled and looked at the side of his face and at the two beaded braids swinging with every step. “Thank you, brother.”
Multiple hands reached out to help you sit down, and you convulsed in pain as your body made contact with the floor.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Norm’s hand didn’t let you go, stretching your arm to look at it and tsk-ing at you annoyedly when he saw small purple marks where you yanked your IV needles out of your arms. The back of his hand then moved to your forehead, trying to gauge your temperature.
“Your fever’s down. How are you feeling?”
You were slightly shy at the small crowd of people staring at you, clinging to your every word. You wanted to lie, to say you were fine, but you didn’t have it in you to deceive these people anymore.
“I don’t know.” The tears that had stained your cheeks were long gone, but new ones weren’t far behind, as the weight of the past few days was slowly bearing down on you.
“In a few days, I lost a dad, a mate and a baby I didn’t even know I had. I don’t know how I am.”
You felt Neytiri’s arm on your back, slowly patting it up and down in an effort to console you. If anyone got what you went through, you imagined it’s her. Still, you felt so alone. More alone than you’ve ever felt in this life or the last. Even at your lowest, even that horrible whole 17th year, even that couldn’t compare. Nothing could compare to the catastrophic wave that crushed you like a tsunami and kept you there, unable to get up, unable to come up for air. You had so many people around you, so much family, and yet you’ve never felt more isolated.
Suddenly, you saw most of them get up and leave quietly, with only a slight tug of your shoulder or a kiss of your cheek or on the top of your head - all of them, except for Jake. He scooted over to where you were until his legs were parallel to yours and almost touching you. He looked at the water as he spoke.
“I thought you might want some peace and quiet.”
You nodded softly. “Thank you.”
“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I know there are no words, no words that could ever make this better, but I want you to know I am sorry.”
“Yeah… me too.”
His gaze shifted to the marui, and you followed his gaze to Neteyam’s body, resting on his mat.
“I miss him so much, kid.”
“I think he’s going to hate me, if he ever comes back.” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke halfway through the sentence.
Jake’s head snapped to you again, a confounded look on his face.
“What are you saying, kid? Why would you say that? My son could never hate you.”
“He’ll hate me. I know he will.”
Jake said nothing as he waited for you to continue. You cried softly as you tried to calm your mind by focusing on the fish swimming peacefully by your feet.
“Before the ship, before Payakan, we got into a fight. A big fight, probably the biggest we’ve ever had. The message, the one on the tulkun… I knew what it meant. I lied to you, to all of you. It was a message from my dad to me. He told me to meet him and I did, I went by myself at night.”
You didn’t look at Jake as you spoke but you felt his whole body stiffen next to yours, and there was no more warmth radiating off of him. Your heart was racing in your chest as you registered the changes and how mad he probably was.
“That’s when I forgave him… kind of. There was still so much unresolved, so much him and I still had to talk about. But when I came back, Neteyam was waiting for me. He was really mad, just like you are now. He… accused me of conspiring with the enemies, of putting him and your family in danger. He poured out all of his frustrations with me, including the one that hurt him most: that he felt I didn’t want a family with him. That I didn’t want his babies. I was so mad, so angry at how quickly he jumped the gun, how he always held so much in until it always exploded in my face, so I just told him that he was right. And that I don’t. And now I lost his baby. I lost his baby because of what I said, and he’s going to think it too and he’s never going to forgive me for it.”
Silence fell in between you, heavy silence, so heavy you felt its weight bearing down on you and the cries turned to sobs, the only sounds that could be heard.
“You know, kid, me and my family didn’t have the best relationship. A lot like your dad, I took to the military to get away from them all. Unlike your dad, though, I was the asshole. I was reckless and impulsive, and felt the constant need to prove myself. My brother, Tommy, he was the smart one. So smart, top of the class his whole life, valedictorian, model student. Got his PhD at 20, got the opportunity of a lifetime to come study on Pandora. A good kid, too. The perfect son, the perfect brother. I couldn’t stand it. The better he did, the worse I did. The more I wanted to prove how unlike him I was, how I was going to make my own path in life.” He scoffed at himself, at the memories of the past.
“I did well, too. In the army. I was good. I gained independence and everything I ever wanted. But I pushed them all away. My mother, and father, and Tommy. I didn’t see them for years. When I lost my legs and had to be shipped back, I was all alone. My fault, my own doing. I knew it, all along, how wrong I was, that all these people ever did was love me - and Tommy’s biggest fault was being a kind and compassionate person, a good brother. When he died, I felt empty. The guilt came later, it came at night, on Pandora, as I felt like I got another chance at life, a life I literally took from him. It came when I got accepted into the Clan, when I fell in love with Neytiri. It comes now, when I see the rivalry between Lo’ak and Neteyam and I know I created it. I see it when I see that Lo’ak is just a carbon copy of myself and my mistakes, and the more I try to steer him away the more I turn him into me. And I see Tommy in Neteyam, every day.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, baby girl. There is so much you’ve had to endure, and no person in the world, much less Neteyam, would be surprised all the pain and stress took its toll on your body. You lost so much, and you gave so much to make sure Neteyam lived, how could he ever blame you? How could he ever hate you?”
“Throughout his whole life, both your lives, you have been Neteyam’s solace. His light, isn’t that what he calls you? I had to watch him lie to us and sneak out for years to come to you, no matter how much he inherited his distaste of humans from Neytiri, we still could never keep him away from that lab.” he chuckled to himself. “I had to watch him suffer for a year when he left, knowing there’s nothing I can do to help him - or you. I love my wife, I love her with my whole heart, more than I could love anything else, but the love you and Neteyam have, I’ve never seen anything like it as long as I have been alive. So I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”
“Wait… you knew about Neteyam sneaking out at night?”
Jake rose his eyebrow at you. “D’you think we’re stupid, kid? I mean it didn’t click from the get go, he had good excuses for a while, but after a few months, we realised he didn’t just have to… what did he used to say…?” He thought about it for a second. His eyes widened and finger wagged in the air as he remember. “Ah, yes! Release himself… for a few hours every night, ha! We were worried and we punished him the first few times we caught him, but it didn’t matter. So when we asked Norm and he told us he was there, safe in your room, we let it go. Did he never tell you?”
“No… he never told me.” He wanted to protect you, he didn’t want you to know he was being punished for sneaking out to see you.
“Wait… Norm knew too?” You groaned at the thought, your little bubble of privacy bursting suddenly.
“I know you like to think you’re the smartest person in the room, and you know what, kid? You are, but we’re not old, oblivious farts just yet.”
“Aw, pops. Never thought you were. Just thought we were being sneaky and getting away with it. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. The thing is, kid, neither you or Neteyam have ever really been children. And a lot of this is our fault… my fault. You were both forced to grow up much faster than you should have. You’ve both always known your own minds and hearts very well, and we knew quite soon you were inseparable. Keeping you two apart would have been as easy as parting mountains, so eventually we just let you be.”
You smiled a little at Jake’s confession, and sighed deeply as soon as you thought about Neteyam again. About the horrible circumstances that led to this conversation.
“What if I won’t be able to have children again? What if this was my only chance? Our only chance?”
He laughed a little and took you in his arms, and your head was now in his chest, crying quietly.
“I wouldn’t stress about that, kid. I think between the two of us, me and Neteyam will be able to coach our own football team soon.”
“Ew, gross.”
He laughed some more, a real dad laugh, and you did too, surprised that he somehow managed to elevate your mood.
Later, in the tent, the two middle siblings rejoined you as you were being checked by Norm and Max. You felt uncomfortable talking about this around so many people, your siblings, but you also wanted to be open, wanted to share in your pain and burdens, as you knew they wanted you to. You’ve kept to yourself your whole life, and this grief, the grief of losing Neteyam, of losing a baby that would have been their little niece or nephew, that you knew they would have adored and cared for every day of its life, you all had to suffer through together. So you allowed them to stay.
“How is the bleeding?”
“It’s manageable. Almost like a heavy period, I think?”
“That’s good. Let us know if it becomes worse, alright?” He eyed you intently. “Do you hear me, Ace? You can’t do what you always do, this is serious. You have to tell us.”
“I will tell you. I promise.”
“Good. Now, you have options. You can wait for it to pass naturally, or we can give you pills for it, but that will mean taking the helo back to the forest, we don’t have the pills with us.”
“I’ll wait.”
“…Alright. You will be bleeding for up to three weeks. Physical recovery from a miscarriage can take up to 2 months. That means no swimming, Ace.”
You shook your head.
“Ace…”
“Angel, you have to listen to them. You can’t put your health at risk anymore.”
“Zip it, Lo’ak. You of all people cannot give me a lecture on putting my health at risk.”
Kiri scoffed in Lo’ak direction, but turned to you, a stern look on her face.
“My stupid brother has a point. You have to stay here.”
“No, I have to bury my dad. And there’s one more thing I need to do. And then I’ll rest, I promise. No exercise for as long as you want, promise.”
“What else do you need to do?”
Your eyes flickered in between Lo’ak and Kiri, as well as the two scientists who all eyed you keenly. You wanted to tell them, wanted to so badly - deadly afraid of more secrets, more things to keep hidden deep in your soul until they burst out of you inevitably, leaving damage in their wake. But the thought of giving them false hope, the thought of seeing their spirit reborn as they hear Neteyam might be alright, might be within reach in Eywa, only to have it be taken away once more, killed you. It tortured you, it haunted you. You’ve spent your whole life having parts of your soul stripped away a piece at a time, so many years of being emptied out with every blow until you were a hollow shell of your former self - you were built for this. They weren’t. They had a life to live, a future to experience - endless adventures and happiness that you would make sure to protect and honour as much as you could. Because that’s what Neteyam did. Because that’s what siblings do.
At the same time, another thought, a worse thought gnawed at you - what if Neteyam was alright, what if you could bring him back, and you allowed his family to think of the worst, to assume their son, their sibling, their hero might never return to them? To make them stew in the pain that took so much from you, that gutted you and took your breath away, the pain that alleviated a little as soon as you chatted with Norm, it was cruel. It was winless fight, a lose-lose situation. But you knew if it was you, you’d want to know.
They deserve to know. They deserve the respect of being thought of as strong enough to handle themselves and the situations presented to them. They weren’t kids anymore. And they were never just any kids anyway. They were the kids of the Toruk Makto, of Palulukan Makto, of one of the greatest scientists that ever lived. They were Omatikaya kids, forced in fire. They had withstood wars and trials most people can’t even imagine. They were strong, and capable. You watched them grow up, you were there to watch them and love them, and now it was time to trust them.
“OK… Norm, can you stop that for a second? I need to talk to all of you.” Everyone was so focused on you, it was making you nervous. Thinking of Tsireya’s swimming lessons, you took a deep breath in and breathed out slowly, carefully, trying to imagine flickering a flame. You felt your heartbeat slow down in you chest and when it was normal again, you spoke.
“Before we were about to leave for my dad’s funeral, before… everything happened, Norm showed me something strange happening in Neteyam’s brain. A seizure.” Your eyes settled on Kiri. “A seizure like the one you went through at the Spirit Tree.” Kiri gasped slowly and took your arm, squeezing gently.
“That means…”
She’s always been quick, you thought proudly. “Yes. I think that Neteyam’s in Eywa. I think the seizures are visions… like the ones I got when I died. Now, I don’t want to raise your hopes up. I don’t know if it’s true. I don’t know anything. All I know is, it’s worth a try. So I will go and plug into the Spirit Tree after the funeral and try to find him and bring him back.”
“I want to come. I can help.”
You have to admit that you thought about it. You wanted Kiri to come with, her deep and unexplainable connection wit Eywa a possible advantage in your endeavour, but your mind flickered to her seizure, Max’s words ringing painfully in your ears. “If she seizes underwater again, it could kill her.”
Norm beat you to it. “Kiri, I don’t think you should plug into the Spirit Tree underwater anymore.”
“Look, I can do this.” She sighed, and looked at her fidgety fingers. “During the ship attack… I killed people.”
The same expression was mirrored in the faces all around you, deep concern and shock clearly visible in your eyes. “What?”
“I connected to some plants underwater and I… I used them to kill humans. I controlled them with my mind. Then I did it again when I was able to control glowing fish to find mum and Tuk in the ship. Something’s changed, guys. I can feel her, her power coursing through my veins. I can help. I can get us to Neteyam.”
Although taken aback, Kiri’s powers came with little surprise to you. You’ve guessed all along she had a bigger role to play than anyone could have ever foreseen, but to see her come into her own and discover them slowly, to watch it unfold, it was magical.
“A bleeding mess and a seizing mess, going together to revive our protective, loving, neurotic mess. How can this possibly go wrong?” You rolled your eyes, but were secretly happy you didn’t have to do this by yourself, that you had your sister to rely on.
Neteyam was gasping so loudly, panting violently as the memory faded. His eyes were unfocused and his lungs were on fire, and his hand shot to his chest at the pain that shot through him, feeling for a wound that wasn’t there, for blood that refused to spill. He patted himself and looked at his hand, and there was nothing. Nothing.
“You’re here for me.”
“You’re here for me.”
Neteyam’s whole body froze, eyes fixed on your own wide ones, just waiting to see the words that will come out of his mouth.
“I’m dead… I’m dead, aren’t I?”
Your eyes softened and then closed, taking a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly through your mouth. You nodded meekly. The tears that formed in your eyes only angered Neteyam, who felt his blood heating up in his veins until they bubbled, threatening to spill outside his body.
“I am dead and you have been toying with me, playing mind games and singing songs for Eywa knows how long?! What the fuck is wrong with you? Who even are you?”
You winced at his harsh words, the movement allowing for your tears to fall freely down you face.
“I couldn’t tell you, Neteyam. I’m not allowed to tell you. The last time I saw you, when you came to the Spirit Tree, I said too much and was immediately pushed out of your vision. Every time I said anything ever since you came back, you fell back into a liminal state of being and I was taken away.”
Neteyam’s head was spinning, world moving chaotically around him and he felt the need to sit, to ground himself to what he knew. He lowered his body next to the river bank, and allowed the water to rush over his calves, the murmuring sounds and rushing stream calming his nerves and heart. He didn’t look at you.
“Now that I remembered, can you just tell me?”
He heard your footsteps approaching behind him and you found a place on the floor next to him, one leg in the river while the other was bent at the knee, propped against his thigh. He saw your eyes tracing his side profile in his periphery and turned to face you, your beauty so overwhelming it made him ache. Seeing you with his memory intact, seeing you human for the first time in a year, your eyes and hair, your soft skin and beauty marks, your nose, your lips, it brought back feelings in him that he didn’t realise he even had. So much sadness for this you he’d lost, that he thought he’d lost forever, so much yearning to feel you, feel your much colder body, your more defined curves, your scent. So many memories of the girl he grew up with, so tiny and vulnerable, so fiery and wild, so sad and wise beyond her years, memories of the forest, his own upbringing, his own life. You were like a walking, talking reminder of the past, a past he loved, a past of joy, and love and adventures, of hope and childhood. A past long gone.
“Who are you? How is it possible that you are here? You are alive.”
You looked towards the river and sighed, thinking before you spoke.
“I’m me. I just don’t think I’m the same me as the one currently alive. I think when I did the consciousness transfer, a part of me, the human part of me, stayed behind. I’ve been here, in this forest, for a long time. I was so confused, for so long. I was just here, in this clearing, all alone.
And then one day, I got this dream. This horrible nightmare. I saw you, on a ship. I saw you fighting with Spider and Lo’ak, fighting humans and… blue men, like Avatars? I saw you getting shot. I saw you getting pulled to a rock. I saw you die, I saw myself losing everything in an instant.
Over time, I’d see glimpses. Of you, and your life. Of me. I saw the love, and the fights. I saw the late night ikran rides, and the passion so wild it could light the whole forest on fire. I saw your frustrations, and my own, grow in size. I saw us leaving, I saw us dreaming - for a future, a better one. One where we’d get to be free.
And then one day… you came. And I was so happy to see you again. And so scared. But I knew then that that’s why I’m here. That’s my purpose. My purpose here is you. I am here to be your light. To guide you. I just don’t know if I’m supposed to be guiding you back home or in the afterlife.”
Neteyam’s skin was littered with goosebumps at your words, at their implication, at knowing even in his afterlife, it was just you and him. You were his light, since the moment you were born and for the rest of eternity. He turned to fully face you, his pose mirroring your own now, and he took your face gently in both his hands, and wiped the tears from your warm cheeks with his thumbs. His face lowered to yours and your foreheads touched, the proximity almost unbearable in the feelings it invoked in him. He breathed you in and noted how unlike your Avatar body, you still smelled like the snapshots of the lab and of human concoctions you called perfume, sweet and mellow, and so, so familiar. You stood like that, motionless in this moment he didn’t want to ever end. If this was death, he was happy to oblige it, happy to indulge in it for the rest of time.
“I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you’re here, that just like we talked about when we were 8, this is our heaven. That we can be in here together.”
“Neteyam… you can still go back. You can still choose to live.”
Neteyam removed his forehead from yours and looked at your eyes, sad and willing him to listen, to hear you out. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and you started caressing up and down his forearm in a consoling motion.
“What?”
“I had a choice. And so do you. I was so scared when I first saw you, but so relieved at the same time. I have been alone for so long, and you are the only one, the only one I ever wanted to see again. But I knew that if I were to ever see you again, that would mean my dream came true. And that scared me. That terrified me more than anything else. And if not seeing you again, being alone for all eternity was what it took for you to live, then I was happy with that. So I warned you, the best I could, but I was pulled out of the vision, and so were you. I realised then there are rules to this.
You have a choice to make, Neteyam, just like I did. No one can change that, no one can alter it. It has to come from you. You had to be able to remember you died, to remember what brought you here if you were to make that choice, and I couldn’t help you get there. Eywa doesn’t take sides.”
Neteyam was brought to a standstill. It was overwhelming, everything happening to him, everything he was going through and his mind finally remembered you, the real you, and his family that he left behind when he died. He felt so sick, so selfish having it just dawned on him that this didn’t just concern him. And although he had you, even in this life, you - the real you didn’t have him anymore. His parents, his siblings - they didn’t have him anymore.
“Can you see…? You said you get glimpses… of my life, of your life. Please tell me you’re ok. Please tell me my family is ok.”
You looked sad, so sad. Your lips pursed in a tight line and you shook your head slowly.
“Were you ok when I died?”
The immediate pain that he always felt as soon as he remembers the moment you gave your last breath in that lab, the power it still held over him even so long after, even whilst holding you taut against his body and feeling your strong heartbeat and looking into your eyes, that shimmered like the night sky, almost knocked him straight to the ground in agony.
“I had a choice. And so do you.” A choice. A choice between life and death. Between the future and the past. Between the ocean and the forest. Between his kids that he’s always dreamt of having, and the possibility of you never wanting your own. The choice between a happy afterlife or a scary, death-filled future.
“Did you know? When it happened to you?”
“Yes… I did.”
“You said you saw auntie Jo when you died. You said you saw Earth, and her old house. Why am I here?”
You smiled warmly up at him, tears making a temporary home in the two dimples on the side of your mouth.
“I think we go where we most want to go. I think we see what we longed for the most in life. The closer I got to dying, the more I needed my mum. I wanted to see her again, I wanted to see what her life was like, before me, before all of this. There was so much trauma I had because of her death, and it was the thing that my soul yearned for the most, I think. Just one last chance to hear her voice. For you… it’s this forest. What you wanted the most was to go home. And you wanted a family. You got to see the family we would have had that you envisioned when I was still human. Back before the Sky People returned, back before everything became complicated and messy. Back in the past, where our biggest concern was that we loved each other too much - too much for a human and a Na’vi.”
Neteyam thought long and hard about the situation he faced - that he found himself in. This choice, it was tugging at his heart painfully, it was tearing him apart. He thought it would be simple. It should be simple. Life or death, right? It’s as simple as it gets. Except death had everything he’s ever wanted and none of the things he didn’t want, none of the insecurities, and the pain and the fear, none of the uncertainty or the fights, none of the terror of thinking he might lose his family, he might lose you. None of the responsibilities, none of forsaken dreams, none of the forgotten plans. Death had you, the you he fell in love with, the you that he grew up with, the you that was ever-present in most of his most precious memories. Death had the kids, his kids, his perfect kids and the forest. It had this clearing, and happiness, and joy. It had peace.
He didn’t realise he was hyperventilating, tears blurring his vision until he felt your hand on his chest, over his heart, your touch bringing him much needed solace.
“Why is this so hard? Why does my heart hurt so badly?”
“I think it’s hard because you know deep in your heart what you want. You know what you want to do, and thinking about the consequences hurts you. But you have to say it, Neteyam. You have to acknowledge it.”
He didn’t think he could say it, could bring himself to admit it out loud. But he had to. He owed himself that, and the people waiting for him to come back.
“I don’t know if I want to go back.”
Right before eclipse, Jake and Neytiri returned to your tent, and with a deep sigh, you adjusted your clothes you have been wearing since before you passed out, and felt ready to finally do this.
“It’s time, baby girl.”
You nodded softly and felt grateful for your family, which was surrounding you on all sides, holding your hands and shoulders, making sure you knew and felt their presence and their support - both of which you needed desperately, especially now. You all got on ilu and started making your way in silence towards the Cove of the Ancestors. It would be your first time seeing it; you tried to suppress the wince that was threatening to escape you at the memory of the fight that ensued after you chose spending time with Lo’ak over coming to this place the first time, with your mate. What you wouldn’t give for those fights now, for any opportunity to see him and hear his voice ring in your ears.
As you entered underneath a few columns, you were speechless at the beauty, the indescribable beauty displayed for your eyes to see. Floating islands, and zenith arches stood tall and mighty as the underwater nature illuminated the cove brightly in kaleidoscopic hues. It was breathtaking, it was beyond your wildest dreams. Neteyam was right to be upset. You would have given anything to see this with him, and hated yourself a little at denying you both this once-in-a-lifetime chance.
The whole of the Metkayina clan was waiting for you, solemn and dignified, dressed in mournful garbs and intricate jewellery adorning their beautiful cyan bodies. Your dad was placed in a floating enclosure, filled with sea water and flowers, and emotion bubbled in your chest at his sight. Ronal, Tonowari and their two children looked at you and your family, and you greeted them in the Na’vi way, trying to pour every ounce of gratitude seeded in your soul to them, for the way they took your dad in, for the way they were offering him eternity in Eywa. I see you.
You took him and moved him slowly away from the crowd from the back of your ilu, and you made your way to the place you knew you would have to give him to the sea forever. His new forever home, where he could finally be free - free of burden, free of guilt, free of the world that took so much from him. Once you reached, you dismounted and saw with slight surprise as Jake did the same. You put your hands on your dad and he put his hands on yours, squeezing them gently.
“I got you, kid.”
You let out a soft sob at the gesture, feeling an outpouring of love for this man who was the only father figure you’ve ever known, the only father you had left, who stepped in at a time you were close to falling apart and helped you heal, and helped you where no one else could. With a small nod and a deep breath in, you submerged and slowly took your dad with you, to the seabed covered in yellow anemone. With one last goodbye and tears that got lost in the water all around you, you let him go, and watched as he was slowly engulfed in them, where he will rest for now, where he will rest for life.
Goodbye, dad. We’ll meet each other again, one day, and then, we’ll be able to finally be a family.
Gideon woke up in a bed, a bed he didn’t recognise initially. It had been so long since he’s been in this room, in this place. The realisation came from all around him, from the sound of songs he’s heard a million times before playing softly in the background, from the smell of a specific type of laundry detergent his nose was incredibly familiar with, from the cracks in the ceiling that Gideon memorised by heart in time.
“Up and at ‘em, sleepy head.”
The pressure of a small body tucked against him finally registered in his mind, and the voice brought clarity to everything, to his whole life and his whole existence. His eyes dropped to the ones already looking at him, playful and curious, and oh, oh so beautiful. The shock shot through his whole body, electrifying every inch of him, every part of his brain, waking him up like from a death sleep and into a weightless consciousness, fully alert to her, and only her.
“Marj?”
“I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d see you again.”
“I don’t understand, Jo. Is this heaven?”
“It is now. Welcome home, my love.”
Once the funeral was over, the Metkayina slowly started making their way back to their village, as did your family.
“Will you be ok, kid?”
“Yes. I just want to see something at the Tree of Souls, if that’s ok.”
You looked fixedly at Lo’ak and Kiri, who nodded slowly, and you knew the plan was in motion.
“Ok, we will go back. We will see you back home. Don’t stay out late, you shouldn’t be swimming anyhow.”
“Will do. I’ll have Kiri and Lo’ak to keep me safe, just in case.”
Jake looked pointedly at Lo’ak. “Keep her safe. Safe. Do you understand?”
“Lima Charlie.”
The Metkayina Spirit Tree was a sight to behold, and even despite the pain and hurt, you were in awe of its majestic beauty. It was unlike anything you have ever seen before, and you were saddened at the thought your dad never got to see it. Your mum never got to see it. You think they would have loved it, revelled in it as much as you were, as much as you knew Neteyam did. You swam down until you reached one of the many leaves glowing brightly around you, and with a last look at Lo’ak, who was waiting for you on the surface, you held Kiri’s hand as you brought your queue forward.
“Remember. Think of him, as hard as you can. Think of where he could be.” Kiri signed to you before always reaching for her queue and, when you nodded, you both connected to the same leaf, almost overlapping each other. Air flooded your lungs, giving you breath as if from an oxygen pack, and as your eyes closed, you felt your soul transported through planes of existence, to the one you’ve been before, to the one Neteyam was. You knew where he’d be, there was no doubt in your mind that you’d find him in your clearing, in the forest, where you both said you’d spend the rest of eternity when eternity came and knocked on your door.
Sure enough, the sounds and smells and sights of the Omatikaya forest came sharply into focus, and your heart boomed in your chest taking it all in, taking home in. You knew where you were, not quite in the clearing yet, but close. Kiri’s hand tightened in yours as she joined you, and you saw her looking around, adjusting to the new environment.
“We’re… back home.”
You smiled and nodded. “This is where Neteyam and I decided our heaven would be when we were 8 years old. This is where we knew we’d always be, arrested in time, just him and I, together forever. We knew, even back then.” You pointed in the direction you needed to go. “It’s just beyond these trees.”
You let go of her hand and went in front of her, leading the way. As you stepped into the meadow, you were blinded by the rays of sun which blessed it and by your own tears at this place that meant so much, that you never thought you’d see again before your death.
You let out a loud gasp when your vision cleared and in it stood Neteyam, eyes closed as he was sprawled on the ground, a look of peaceful meditation on his face. You ran panting until you reached him, kneeling by his body and grabbing his face in both your hands, having to fight the urge to shake him wildly, shake him awake, shake him alive again. You tried to calm your breath and your heartbeat to no avail, no Metkayina trick in the book able to help you this time, not when you were right, not when he was here, not when you were one step closer to getting him back. You faintly heard Kiri crying softly, sounds muffled by your own mind blocking anything out that wasn’t him.
“Neteyam…?” You caressed his face gently, allowing your fingers to wonder all over it, feeling the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft swell of his lips, his eyelashes, the defined curve of his cheekbones. You touched his braids, those wild braids that mesmerised you, their liveliness and swing always putting you in a hypnotic trance, focusing your world on him and only him. You touched his ears, that twitched slightly under your touch and your eyebrows shot up in wonder and the movement, the only movement you’ve seen in him for days.
“Neteyam… please wake up. I’m here, we’re here. We’re here to take you home. Please.”
His eyes fluttered open and with it so did your chest and it felt like your ribcage was split apart in two and the animal that was trapped in it, thrashing and screaming, kicking at the bars, desperate for release, flew away, leaving you a sobbing mess on his chest, gripping onto him like it was the first time you have ever seen him, like he was your heart’s most sought after desire and any hesitation on your part would mean losing him forever. He was, he always has been - your most sought after desire, your reason for existing.
Your voice brought him out of another dream, memories of the past fluttering past his mind’s eye and settling on nights in the forest, swimming in the pond, running his fingers through your hair, kissing you until he ran out of breath, claiming your body until you were both so spent you didn’t know how you’d make it back home in the morning. He heard you sharing your deepest fantasies and secrets while you patiently redid his braids, spilling promises of love forever, of adoration and gratitude, for each moment you got to be in each other’s embrace, for every night you got to make up for the ones you lost; anecdotes about your time apart and how much you missed each other after all. Recalling times and feelings and musing at how despite how everything’s changed around you - you two haven’t, not to each other, not in any way that matters. You were still each other’s homes, just like you have been since the moment you were born.
His mind quieted when his eyes took you in, not the you he expected to see at all, but a blue you, beautifully striped, and kneeling next to him, face buried in his chest. He shifted his gaze somewhere behind you, and another shock rocked his system at the sight of his baby sister, crying silently, hand covering her mouth to stop the sounds threatening to spill out. His arms wrapped tightly around you and his hands caressed your hair gently and he couldn’t believe the relief that washed over him as you scent overwhelmed him, as your presence drowned everything else in this world but you. You found him. He realised then you were there to guide him home. No matter what path he would choose, stay here or go back, one of you would be there to lead the way, to show him the light - to be the light.
“Hi.”
Your eyes shot up to his face, wide and puffy, red and saturated in tears and his thumb settled over your quivering lips, stuck in this moment with you, trapped in the unmatched beauty of your gaze, by all the love and pain clearly on the surface, by everything else hidden in its depths.
“Hi! Hi, hi, hi! Oh my God, hi! I found you. I really found you.”
Your hands made their way around his neck and your face found its place on a part of his body that felt like it was carved for that purpose alone. This way, he was able to focus on the form staring at you two, sitting on the far side of the clearing, away from view. Neteyam heard his sister’s breath get knocked out of her lungs and when she found her voice, a small squeal came out.
“Um, ok…this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.”
“Ouch, Kiri. None taken.”
Neteyam felt you stiffen in his arms, as the voice speaking registered in your ears. You removed your body from him and looked at him with deep fear displayed clearly on your features. Your raised eyebrows dropped a little as he gave you a small smile, tightening his grip on your forearm.
“I think there’s someone you should meet.”
With shallow breaths and widened eyes, you turned around and wrapped your hand around your mate and squeezed as you assimilated the image unfolding in front of your eyes. It was… you. Your mind flashed to the day you first saw your Avatar body, and how weird it felt, seeing yourself like that, almost like an out-of-body experience. The memory shifted to seeing yourself as a weak, meek human after the consciousness transfer, the first time in your life seeing your human body from outside itself, thinking about how few humans, how few beings are able to ever experience this feeling, this insane, supernatural occurrence. Your mind finally settled on the present, at the girl you knew too well, the body you hated for so long, the body you missed as you had to let it go and were disappointed you couldn’t meet her warm smile with anything other than a grimace.
“How…?”
You got up and made your way carefully to her… to you… until you were face to face. She looked so different to what you always thought you looked like when you inhabited this body. She was… more beautiful than you ever thought. What made her… you… beautiful was the spark in your eye as they fixated on something you found interesting - in this particular case, your new blue body -, the way your nose crinkled a little while you smiled, the way two dimples formed in your cheeks that were rosy and full and…alive. Your curiosity got the better of you and almost involuntarily, you raised a hand and poked the human version of yourself staring at you with a finger.
“How are you here?”
She chuckled a little. “Let’s just say I’m your ghost of Christmas Past.”
The human you smiled at your confused guise. She playfully slapped your hand away and bend her head a little to look past you, at Neteyam.
“I can be a bit annoying sometimes, can’t I?”
“Hey!”
There was laughter all around you as both Neteyam and Kiri found human you a tad funnier at the moment than you would have liked.
“And I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, can’t I?”
Neteyam’s body immediately resolved any annoyance building up in you as he got close to you, and the way his proximity made you feel, the way you got to feel it - feel him - again, was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t believe he was here. Couldn’t believe he was awake, and alive, and touching you like he did, in the way he did that drove you crazy, that sent shivers down every inch of your being. You couldn’t believe you got to feel this way again, couldn’t believe you’d have a lifetime to make up for all the mistakes you made, to make up for the time you were forced apart yet again.
“You’re my pain in the ass.” You turned around to face him, eyebrow raised and he groaned lowly.
“I had a choice. And so do you.” A choice. A choice between seeing his siblings grow up and being there to love them and guide them or only glimpses of the future. A choice between growing old with you, getting to love you and evolve together, as you have all your life or clinging to the past. A choice between seeing his parents be grandparents, pass on their knowledge and experience or never seeing them again. A choice between claiming back his home, fighting for his people or cowering in a fantasy for the rest of time. A choice between seeing what his real kids, your real kids would look like, who they would grow up to be, and being there to witness every single day or glimpses of his past desires manifested like a storybook. A choice between life or death. Between the future or the past. As he looked into your amber eyes, soft and glimmering like the night sky, he knew there was only one answer.
He kissed you, with all his might, and felt light pour out of every corner of his being at the contact. You. The real you. The only you. He couldn’t believe how blind he’d been, blinded by his fears and insecurities, blinded by the incertitude of a unknown future, desperate to cling to a version of his world that was comfortable and familiar, a version of a life he’d dreamt when he was just a boy. He loved you so much, every part of you, every side of you, every body you inhabited because it didn’t matter if you were human or Na’vi, as long as he got to brave the world with you next to him.
“Let’s go home, Atan.”
Your cries filled the forest, happy tears sliding over his fingers as he held your face tightly in his hands. You couldn’t help the sobs that escaped you, couldn’t help the way you clung onto him like you would never ever let him go again. You didn’t think you would. You knew your fingers must hurt his arms with how hard you were digging into them, but you couldn’t care, not when the thought of letting go ripped apart your insides like an angry rabid animal.
“Neteyam… Neteyam…”
“Come on. I want to hold you in my arms for real, I want to see your face back home. Let’s go, Atan.”
He continued to caress your cheeks to remove the tears that wouldn’t stop, and when he realised you didn’t want to budge, he eventually pulled you into a hug that you both needed, that you needed more than life itself. You stood like that until your legs hurt, and when you fell slowly to the ground, he followed, not breaking the embrace - not for anything in this world or the next, not for any world. You sat on the ground, legs intertwined, flush against his chest until the forest started to slowly fade away from view.
“It’s time to go.” You heard Kiri’s calm, deep voice suppressed by the sound of your cries and shallow breaths.
You removed your head form his chest and pulled his face down to look at it.
“I’ll see you at home? In the marui? I’ll just come and you’ll be there?”
“I’ll be there. I promise. You will never get rid of me again. Deal?”
A half-sob, half-laugh made its way of your mouth, but you exhaled a sigh of relief as you spoke. “Deal, yawne.”
Neteyam felt anguished as he turned around to face your human astral projection, but as his fingers wrapped tightly around your own striped ones, he knew that the past is nothing compared to all he has to look forward to with you by his side. More and more of the world was slowly fading from view, and Neteyam knew it was time to say goodbye - forever, this time.
“What will happen to you now?”
“I’m not sure. Now I have guided you, I don’t know what my purpose is.”
“I will miss you so much.”
“I will miss you, too. So much, you will never be able to know. But I still have you, I can still see you, in glimpses of the world you live in. And you still have me.” You nodded in the direction of your Avatar body. “A little bluer, a little taller, but definitely an improved version of myself.”
“And one day, hopefully a really, really long time from now, you will see me again. Neteyam, I have always been your light, but you have always been my rock. You have always been what has grounded me, kept me going. And I know real life is not as beautiful, or whimsical, or perfect as this world right here. But it’s real. And in it, I will continue to be your light, and you will continue to be her…my rock. And whatever else comes, we’ll always brave it together. Just like we have all of our lives.”
Neteyam watched as you turned your attention to the other you, the real you.
“I know you are scared. You are so scared it hurts, it keeps you up at night. But don’t be so scared of the world you forget to live in it, you forget to revel in it. That you forget what really matters. There’s always going to be reasons to say no, always going to be reasons to push back, to postpone, and the truth is no moment will ever be perfect, but this world… it takes so much, it takes so fast, and when it does, what would you want to remember of it? What would you want to flash before your eyes before you go? I know what it is, because I am you. So just do it. Let yourself be vulnerable, once in your life. And see what comes of it.”
You both looked at each other, looked at yourselves, so different but yet the same, a mirror to the past and the present, of what you’ve been through and what you managed to accomplish, who you managed to become. You closed the gap and wrapped each other in a hug. A bear hug, a hug you both needed.
“Thank you. For keeping the past in here, for taking it so I can keep going. Thank you for everything, for guiding him home. For bringing him back to me.”
“I’m proud of you. Mum would be proud of you.”
You let go, tears swimming in your eyes, and with a small smile, Neteyam watched you turn around and make your way towards the light, your own light.
Your hand found Neteyam’s and your amber eyes found each other, and you couldn’t believe it still - that he was here, that he was still here, still yours. You had so much to say, so much to talk to him about, so much to apologise for, but you couldn’t, as your thoughts and words were interrupted by a scene unfolding in front of you. You followed two figures, ethereal and beautiful, emanating glow and light all around them, appear in front of human you, of past you. You inhaled loudly when the realisation hit, the stunned realisation that those were your parents. Your mum and dad, holding hands and smiling widely towards you.
“We’re here for you, my child. We can go home. We can finally be a family. I missed you so much, bunny.”
Tears were falling freely down your face, seeing a vision you have dreamt about your whole life, you have wished for in your deepest fantasies, in all your best, most out-of-reach dreams, and you felt at peace, for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time in your life, knowing that Heaven was real, and in it, so was your family.
Come, my darling, homeward bound
When all is lost, then all is found
Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett
#neteyam#neteyam x human!reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam fanfic#neteyam reader#neteyam sully#avatar#avatar twow#avatar fanfic#neteyam x avatar!reader#neteyam sully fanfiction#neteyam angst#awow#awow neteyam#avatar loak#jake sully#dilf jake sully#sully!reader#sully family x reader#sully family x sully!reader#neteyam avatar#avatar fanfiction
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I really love your art, it's make me happy every time I opened Tumblr and saw your art. 💗
I was wondering if you have some fav Drarry fanfiction.
Aww, thank you!! It heals my soul to hear of your happiness!!
I’ll be honest, I don’t read fanfiction often.
The whole reason I got into Drarry was because I was so deeply unsatisfied and slightly offended with Draco’s lack of character development as a morally gray character. There’s so much potential there! And as a classics reader, where almost all characters are morally gray (because saint-like humans do not exist), I’d been expected something great from Draco! But such did not happen and we merely have to assume he’d been spiritually reborn… Anyway, the first one I read was Eclipse by Mijan after seeing it so highly rated. AH, after that, I declared I shall love Drarry!!!!
I’ve also read Turn by Saras girl (I think this is the alternate universe one, not sure; if you’re a fic connoisseur then fact check me).
Things Worth Knowing by Femme (I’m not a HUGE fan of spicy fics, but I love inner turmoil)
I do love 8th year or post Hogwarts stories…
I’m still exploring the world of fics, I’m still rather knew to Drarry! But I’ll let you know if I fine any more!
I have written my own: I’ll Be Seeing You by leevansalmon on AO3. It was my first fic, and it’s doing good and was surprisingly very well received. Personally, as much as I love the idea (Seer Draco 👀), I will admit that I merely wrote it on my notes and then posted it (no editing whatsoever). I literally wrote 200k words in two months—one chapter a day; mass production style. Bam. Posted. But people seem to enjoy it and are seemingly not at all bothered as I am. It’s very dark and Lucius and Narcissa are VILE (which I swear against now).
I am currently writing a short story though! I’m taking my time and trying to hone a style now. It will be called Misty… but more on that later. Sorry for the lengthy post! I hope I’ve answered your question!
“Fortunately, it is in the nature of the human being to seek a justification for his actions.” -Alexandr Solzhenitsyn
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What are your least favorite ships? Not counting Subaru x one of the minors (i sadly have seen some around)
whew...... least favorite ships..... now thats a bold question HAH and i may have some. ah. Bold answers hah.
im generally pretty open to most ships, its just a matter of like. either i already liked the ship / was really into the ship or im more neutral about it and you just gotta convince me why i should at least give it a shot or be like "this could be good in certain circumstances". i dont usually care if a ship is toxic or "problematic" per say bc 1. this is rezero and sooo so many ships in this show arent 100% healthy lbr and 2. i will like a ship if its like. complex, and if theres problematic stuff, then its done for a reason - like it's not just there willy nilly. but thats just my personal feelings on it yep!! :o fiction is different from real life and all that.
more under the cut!!
that being said like. you know, kinda like you said - the obvious answers would be like subaru x any minors and just any sort of incest ships bc like. i do not see the point of it. that and you know, like a lot of people, i tend to avoid these sorts of ships with 99.999% of fandoms im in. i aint here for incest or shipping adults with minors. and i know theres like fandoms like game of thrones where this sort of thing IS relevant in the story, but with rezero - like it just is not relevant here and adds nothing unless youre into that. i do get that fictional stuff is different from real life and its not necessarily an indication of someone's character. i also definitely know this bc ive cowritten a gluttony if selfcest fic for this fandom as a very extreme crack treated seriously story hahh. but yeah like. ships between family and adult x minor are Not For Me in this fandom. i dont feel like it adds anything to the story and its also like Really out of character.
granted, i cant really say much on that bc ive written and posted selfcest for this fandom but like. in my defense, i did way too much research for that fic (..............i researched a lot of psychology stuff) and also gluttonybaru is Canonically Not Normal about subaru. the more you think about gluttonybaru the worse he gets HAH. like. dude has canonically kissed subaru via emilia's book of the dead....................
but obviously ofc i do not condone any of this ^^^^ in real life.
anyway on a lighter note!! im not a huge fan of most ships between subaru and *insert a female side character here*. like im not a big fan of like. subaru x anastasia, subaru x priscilla, subaru x elsa, subaru x yorna, subaru x pandora, like... the list can get kinda long bc people in this fandom in certain english spaces like to ship him with like any girl ever, it feels like sometimes. it gets to the point where sometimes i feel like subaru is just the self-insert to be shipped with women that people have the hots for.
like with most content about these sorts of ships, its hard for me to see much point to it - and there IS potential there. there is almost always potential in so many different tropes and ships, and theres some cool fanart in this fandom with these ships!! but you know, i hear about people suggesting ideas with these ships or writing fic about these ships and its just not my cup of tea bc it really sacrifices the characterization of all these women. and elsa is like already sexualized enough okay and its almost never nuanced and taking into account her backstory :( like i could be convinced to ship these ships with like idk 20k to 200k words of relationship and character development, but as it stands i personally really dont like them hah ;-;;; and also priscilla is clearly more into women okay (she canonically talks about how men are only allowed to fantasize about her and nothing more or she'll cut off their heads!!) and anastasia seems more into like julius and priscilla so like. HAH.
subaru x crusch is not something im a big fan of but im pretty open to it hah, i just havent seen much fancontent about them that really piques my interest :,)
anyway i also just. dont like the idea of taking a gay subaru ship and genderbending only one of them due to homophobia. and ill emphasize and underline that last part - due to homophobia - bc ive seen really good genderbend subaru content in this fandom where subarus afab and shipped with like julius or reinhard or something and there was clear effort and passion put into it!! and i do think its interesting thinking about how genderbend aus would affect this sort of thing for sure <3 i really really enjoy seeing the well made genderbend aus in this fandom!!
but i see other people suggesting fic ideas or making fics sometimes where its like fem subaru x male side character or like now-fem side character x subaru but it like its only clearly done bc some people just cant ship a gay ship, they gotta make it straight and then not put effort into thinking how this would change more things. and the female character in the duo now is Especially terribly out of character :(( the homophobia is just so so irritating to me. i go on the fic reddit thread sometimes and i see stuff like. i think once i saw a thread about someone requesting ottosuba and someone else immediately went "oh, with femotto right!!" like. ...... please. they are a gay ship :,,,))))))) let them be gay Sometimes at least!! maybe we can genderbend both of them sometimes??? :,)))
also on a less serious note HAH ok like..... ok hear me out, dont kill me for saying this either, but - fredotto. frederica and otto. and - ok dont get me wrong, i think theyd be really really interesting for multiple reasons, right. and ive seen some cute fancontent on them that i liked a lot!! so i really do think they have lots of potential!! like theres the obvious "otto had a crush on a cat as a child and frederica's a cat demihuman", then theres the other obvious fact of otto and frederica being connected via garfiel being their brother/brother figure, and also like personality/temperament wise they could bounce off of each other in interesting ways but like.
the thing with fredotto is that i feel like in english fandom its treated as the "more likely" otto ship to happen, at times. which is Absurd to me after studying otto's lore way too hard bc not only is this dude just way too obsessed with subaru (like regardless of whether you view it as platonic or romantic or not, ottos like Down Bad either way LMAO i just dont see him having eyes for anyone else at this rate)... but also otto OPENLY ADMITS that he'd be bad in a relationship with a woman. like im really sorry but frederica would probably be Too Good for him. and he would Know That.
otto………. can you specify what “the most important thing” is. like do you mean ONLY your career or—
anyway so its like. you want me to believe that otto "i could never be in a relationship with a woman as i am now" suwen. could date a woman????? right now???? i dont think so LMAOO. like i would feel BAD shipping a woman with otto bc barely anyone deserves otto, ok. idk you might be going "suffaru arent you kinda mean to otto" but like being an otto fan also means being his biggest hater and dude is just super super cringe. and even if he had a crush, the chances of him voicing it is Probably Low.
like ships like fredotto, again, need like idk maybe like a few thousand words of development At Least on both ends, bc frederica?? we barely know anything about her at the moment, so its Really hard to approach a ship like this in an in-depth manner right now. like id love to explore fredotto!! id love to learn more about frederica!! id love to go crazy with this ship!! but yeah its definitely kinda hard bc we barely know anything on frederica :< :( and yeah once again. i think shes too good for otto. i think almost every woman is too good for otto. if youre shipping a woman especially with otto you gotta jump through hoops to Really convince me on this HAH. bc i think shipping him with men is just gonna lead to two different possibilities (codependency. and/or otto trying to femme fatale his way through life 👍)
yeah anyway jokes aside. fredotto at worst feels like just a case of pairing the spares and like Clearly they must only be in a straight ship or something HAH.... like i would love to read/write extensive relationship development on them though ;-;;; they got good potential, youd just have to put in the work for me to Believe that they could happen ;-;;;; but most fredotto english fic content atm is just them already being a Thing in the background like ;-;;; this would Not Happen from either of them without development!!!
also i have some fredotto tumblr posts floating around with what i Think would be fun to do with their dynamic…. idk where they are rn hah but yep i think they got potential :,) !!
anyway HAH i hope you did not mind reading about my least favorite ships in this fandom bc this is everything thats coming to my mind now 👍
#rezero#re:zero#ask#i hope all of my explanations here made sense!!! i mean no offense with any of this these are my opinions!!
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Well, I lasted three update emails. I was holding out on starting your new fic so I could binge a lot of chapters at once, but after getting the update email today I just couldn’t wait and to no one’s surprise, I loved every minute of it! Such an interesting world you’ve created and it’s only going to get better (for us, for Charles who knows).
I do have to ask since I’m not a fic writer - when you say you’re expecting this to be around 150-180k is that daunting for you as a writer or exciting? Right now you’re averaging around 8,000 words a chapter so with that average that’s around 20 chapters and with possible (please don’t view this as pressure) weekly updates that’s 20ish weeks of fic! I’m always so curious if this seems overwhelming to writers? I know as a reader it’s so damn exciting.
lol can you tell I’m a numbers girl and not a writer?
ah thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and I totally understand the urge to want to wait. I'm excited you're coming along on the journey anyway!
moving on to your question, I'll try to be succinct but to nobody's surprise I am an absolute yapper so it probably will be a long and winding answer.
I think firstly, you kind of almost explained it yourself, but in the opposite way. I'm a writer, not a numbers girl haha. I personally (though other writers may have different experiences) don't really think about how many chapters it will be, or how many weeks of uploads, so there is really no opportunity for it to be daunting because it doesn't really enter my mind.
The outline I have for this fic IS broken into chapters, but I already am not sticking to it. When I'm writing, I often explore a scene in much more detail (and therefore many more words) that I expected when writing the note for scene. e.g. today's chapter was like "1. Charles goes into pre-heat 2. max claims Charles 3. Pierre shows up" and then it ended up being 10k. I just finished writing chapter 6, which is also at 10k, and I've ended up having to shift half of what I outlined for chapter 6 into chapter 7 because I found a natural end point and I didn't want to end up with a 20k chapter.
so, for me at least, when I write I make a lot of decisions based on my instincts. does this scene need more, or is it dragging? is this chapter complete, or does more need to be added? is there too much in this chapter, and should I split it?
all of which is to say - my estimate of 150-180k is based on how much I have written so far (55k) and at what point in the story am I up to (I honestly don't think act 1 is done yet). I suspect my estimate of 150-180k is very low, and it's not getting to that word count that's daunting, because it's not what I'm actually working towards.
what IS daunting is trying to tell the story itself. are the characters right? are their intentions coming through? am I hiding what I want to hide? do I have a note of plot I've started at the beginning so I make sure I follow it through to the end? working towards answering those questions is what I'm thinking about, and that is always daunting, no matter whether its 10k or 200k (though.... PWP is always fairly mindless hahaha).
but it IS exciting. especially when people love something. I've written a lot of fic in my time, long and short, complete and not complete, and I can absolutely guarantee that the difference between exciting and daunting is how people react. when people love something ... the nerves are there, but they're eclipsed by the sheer joy of knowing you brought a smile to somebody's face with your writing.
not to get sappy, but I whole-heartedly believe that my purpose on this earth is to make people happy through my writing. if I know that I'm doing that, I could write 200k fic after 200k fic and die a happy woman.
I hope that kind of answered your question anon! long and winding, but fairly thorough? haha
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Ah, my dear @cilil has tagged me, and I'll try to do at least one Tumblr thing today. I had hoped that I'd have more time this weekend!!!
This week was madness...I swear!
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
391 (and yes, I am one of those who put between 7 and 133 different ficlets into one work to keep the number of individual works down).
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
1,800,713 (this does not include 2 longfics I've orphaned and several fics I've posted anonymously)
(but I've been writing since July 2021)
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Tolkien, roles played by Richard Armitage, roles played by Adam Brown, the odd Dean O'Gorman fic for @laurfilijames, 1 Lucifer fic...)
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Tumblr Imagines (it's a collection of ficlets from when I started and has over 200k)
October 2022 Ficlet run (Yeah, as I said, I don't post all my fics separately)
Black (Local folkore meets The Hobbit retelling
Silm imagines and ficlets (Again, a 50k+ collection)
"The only way is up" or "thrice stuck" (Smutty dream sequence with Thorin)
These are mostly my first writings which had had time to amass some few kudos :D
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Always!
It takes me a while sometimes, but I need people to know how much I love and appreciate their support! I love every comment, and I truly wish I was a little better at expressing myself when it comes to these things <3
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I honestly do not remember...Probably, Love letter to the man you've never got to be.
I usually don't do much angst 😇
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Very hard to say because I don't finish too many of my long fics lol. I'd want to say Sticks and stones (Christmas Hallmark story)...it's just that kind of story.
My TRSBs are usually "Happy End given the circumstances" rather than all-out Happy End...lol
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Thus far, no.
I am not relevant or known enough to attract that kind of attention!
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Me? No...(There have been spicy scenes in long fics, spicy fics, outrageous ficlets, Kinktober, Dead Dove December, MSV...Ok yeah, I do...and I do all of it. M/F, F/F, M/M, M/F/M...from vanilla to whips. You choose, I write)
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I am an AU bitch. I've done a HP drabble once...Les Mis/LOTR for last year's Christmas event...it happens...
Right now? Twilight Crack parody for a good friend :D
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don't think so? Who would steal trash?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nobody has ever approached me...
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes...Once for last year's S&D, I am doing it now for the Calendar fic...I love collaboration, what can I say?
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Ship-ship? Russingon.
OC ship? Ori x OC
Rarepair? Nerdanel x Anairë
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Black - It's one of my first fics...and I've never written that last chapter.
I am also known for having written chapters and chapters of other longfics but just...never posting them lol
16. What are your writing strengths?
I am fast, I am versatile, and I am willing to write almost any character, dynamic, ship, and genre. From tooth-rotting fluff to noncon. From very vanilla M/F meet-cute to kinky sex.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I am bad at punctuation. I rarely have an outline, I just write. I do not plan, I do not come up with complicated worldbuilding, I have exactly 0 HC documents.
I just write whatever comes to mind.
Moreover, I have a real problem with posting. I write A LOT more than I post...because I just can't motivate myself to reread LOL
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I avoid even Tolkien's languages for fear of getting something wrong. I am fluent in at least 3 other languages, but I am not entirely sure whether there would ever be a place for them.
If I did that, I am afraid that it would become incomprehensible as the only one I wouldn't use is my mother tongue. It would sound a bit...magniloquent...
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Tolkien. Only fandom thus far...
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
I don't know. Every so often, I write something I don't hate, but I can't remember right now loool
Open tag for everyone who hasn't done this yet :D
Tell me something about yourselves!
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The Truth Untold -- Chapter 20: Give Me Back My Smile, Caught In A Lie
Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin
Word Count: Fic in progress, 200k so far. 3k-5k per chapter
Chapter Summary:
It’s almost as if something in Yoongi snaps. He stands up from his chair, grabs Dae-Hyun by the collar, and drags him out of the room and into the hallway. He ignores everyone’s protests and barrels out the front door with the other man trying to keep up with his grip.
Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM
Namjoon is in his studio putting the final touches on songs for the album and makes a mental note to ask Jimin to name the song they created for Yoongi. He’s exhausted, it’s been a long day, but there’s too much to worry about to truly relax. It feels like control has entirely slipped from his grasp. He’s used to being able to keep the group in line while also fighting for them with the company. This situation though, is extremely delicate and could go in so many different ways.
He decides it’s time to call it quits for the day when he hears a knock at the door. He opens it to see Jimin and Dae-Hyun standing there. Jimin looks as if he’s barely holding back anger and Dae-Hyun looks completely broken. Namjoon is taken aback and ushers them inside before pulling the privacy curtain shut and locking it behind them.
“Guys, is everything okay?”
“Heh, ask Dae-Hyun.”
“Alright. Dae-Hyun, what’s going on?”
“Namjoon, I’m so sorry. This entire thing got completely out of hand. I’m the one who left the note on Jungkook’s door in Taiwan.”
Namjoon gasps and steps backwards, kicking himself for discounting the man to begin with. How much do any of them even know about him? He sits down in his desk chair and puts one hand to his face, looking up at the other two with an expressionless face.
“Okay. Tell me everything. I mean absolutely everything. If I find out you’re hiding anything, this is going to go very badly for you.”
“My mother is dying. I come from a very low-income family. I bounce around different jobs hoping there will be new opportunities that pay more. Around the time I signed on with BigHit, someone from one of the Big 3 approached me and offered to pay for her entire treatment if I uncovered a gay relationship within BTS. They had no proof or details, just speculation that there was one. I put my discomfort with the idea aside and told myself that saving my mother was worth doing anything.”
Jimin scoffs from across the room, leaning against the wall with his fists clenched.
“Running into Jimin-ssi on my first morning there was a coincidence. I didn’t seek him out. I figured opportunities would present themselves as I worked with you all longer. Then we hit it off so well that day and started to grow closer and then I went with you all to Osaka. I haven’t told Jimin this part, but while I was looking for equipment backstage I, um, I unlocked a closet and saw Jimin and Yoongi-hyung kiss. I immediately ran out and found a corner to cry in because I didn’t want it to be them. I didn’t want to hurt and expose one of the first true friends I’ve ever had.”
Jimin starts choking from where he’s standing and starts to turn red. His hands shake and Namjoon knows he’s about to explode.
“Jimin-ah, let Dae-Hyun finish. We can discuss everything after we have all the information.”
“Yeah, so, then I had dinner with Taehyung-ssi after Osaka and that’s the night he invited me to game night. I had such a great night with you all. I never felt like an outsider, you included me even in your inside jokes. You’re all such amazing people, I was so conflicted. I slept in Jungkook’s room that night since I was too drunk to drive home and I found the note from Taehyung tacked to his corkboard. I grabbed it and took it, figuring it would be all I’d need to bring to my contact in order to get my mom some help.”
“See? What else do you need to hear, Namjoon-hyung? He did it. He explained why. That’s it.”
“Dae-Hyun, is Jimin right? Is that the end of your story?”
“No, no it’s not. I didn’t show the note to anyone. I couldn’t stomach it. Then in Taiwan, Jungkook-ssi invited me for drinks alone and I felt like throwing up. He was being so kind and welcoming and that felt like the nail in my mother’s coffin. I couldn’t do this to you all. So I taped the note to his door before I knocked, figuring it would kind of warn him that he and Taehyung were in danger. I didn’t mean to scare him or to impact the rest of you. It felt like the only way I could help.”
“Tell him about how you chose to handle things with me, Dae-Hyun.”
“Ah. Jimin-ssi is right, I need to come clean there too. After Taiwan, I was starting to realize that I had feelings for him. I’ve always had a twinge of discomfort around homosexual relationships, I explained this part to Jimin. I never imagined myself falling for a man, but it’s Jimin. He’s amazing. I couldn’t stop thinking about him while also knowing I was nowhere near good enough for him with what I’ve been doing. I also had no idea what that kiss between him and Yoongi meant. So I called him up and broke off our friendship.”
“Now tell him about tonight.”
“I was trying to come clean and didn’t know where to start. Jimin-ssi told me to start with what was most important. I-I kissed him. My feelings for him should not have been the most important thing to me and I should never have expressed them by forcing a kiss on him. I won’t make excuses, I did the wrong thing. Then he brought me here to see you, Namjoon.”
Namjoon hasn’t moved a muscle other than to interject between Jimin and Dae-Hyun to keep the peace. His mind is reeling and poring over the possible repercussions of each path he could take from here. Part of him feels for Dae-Hyun, his mother was obviously going to mean more to him than a group of strangers. He can’t pretend to know what he’d do to save his mother’s life.
“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to walk up to the CEO’s office with me right now and you’re going to explain this again. Leave out the part about finding Yoongi-hyung and Jimin, and the part about kissing Jimin. Those won’t be relevant to the company. You’ll give him the name of your contact and the three of us will have a very serious discussion. Then we’re going to go back to the dorm and you’re going to come clean to everyone.”
“Absolutely, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
“Thank you. Go stand in the hallway please but stay in front of the door so I can see you.”
Dae-Hyun bows all the way to the floor in front of both of them, his shoulders starting to shake, before walking to the door and opening the curtain before he stands on the other side of the glass.
“Okay, Jimin-ah. This is entirely up to you, but I need your honesty. When he talks to the group, do you want him to tell them that he saw you and Yoongi-hyung? Is there anything you need to tell me about that?”
“Namjoon-hyung, I promise that we’ve been trying to find the right time to talk to everyone about it. We aren’t hiding it on purpose, but Dae-Hyun had called to end our friendship on the day we planned to and I needed time to get past that before I put anything else on my shoulders. Then you met with Bang this morning and we agreed that figuring out this scandal with Tae and Kook was more important.”
“I understand, I’m not upset. Would you be comfortable telling everyone tonight before Dae-Hyun speaks? That way he can tell the entire story and there won’t be anyone left out of the loop on anything.”
“I’ll talk to Yoongi-hyung, but I don’t see why not. He’s been wanting to hurry up and tell everyone. It’s kind of cute actually, he seems proud to be with me.”
“Jiminie, who wouldn’t be?”
********
Yoongi is sitting in his studio considering going back to the dorm to talk to Taehyung, he’s been sending very cryptic text messages and it’s worrisome. He feels incredibly bad about him walking into Jungkook’s room at the worst possible moment. He wants Tae to know that Jungkook only had the best of intentions, even if he did the wrong thing. He’s used to being the one that Taehyung comes to now, but he keeps blowing him off.
He tries to shake it off and goes back to tweaking the piece on the screen in front of him when he hears the beeping of his door code. He turns his chair around and sees Jimin standing in the doorway, tears in his eyes. He freezes for a minute, unable to look away from how pretty and delicate Jimin looks with his eyes shining. He hops out of the chair and runs to the door, closing it behind them.
“Jiminie, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Jimin recounts his meeting with Dae-Hyun, explaining that the other man was behind things all along. Yoongi’s fists clench in anger and he’s trying not to react so as to let Jimin get everything out. He can feel that old burn in his chest, his ugly temper rearing its head. Jimin is beyond distraught, Jungkook and Taehyung are a mess, and this impacts the whole group. If there’s one thing that Yoongi won’t tolerate, it’s someone hurting his loved ones.
“God, Jimin. I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m glad you came to me. That’s a lot to carry. I know you trusted him and cared about him. Hell, I liked the man too when I spoke with him. I never got the impression he was doing anything shady.”
“There’s more, hyung. He told me that while we all snapped him out of his stupidity, the shining beacon that shifted his mindset was falling for me. He kissed me. I didn’t want him to, I froze and went stiff and he let me go.”
Yoongi falls silent and starts to pace around the room. He’s wondering if one strong punch to the man’s face would be enough or if he’d lose control and not be able to stop. He feels Jimin’s delicate hands wrap around his fists and turns his head to meet his eyes.
“Yoongi, it’s okay. It was just a kiss and I was wiping tears from his face. That was kind of a mixed signal, but he hadn’t told me the rest yet and I wanted to comfort him. It’s my own fault.”
“No. No! I don’t ever want to hear that from you again. I don’t care if it was ‘just’ a kiss or if you were comforting him. I don’t care if you were dancing around half-naked, someone should never kiss you against your will. I’m glad he read your signals and stopped, but the thought of his lips on yours and the fear you probably felt makes me see red.”
“Will you not want to kiss me for a while? Am I tainted?”
Yoongi turns his body towards Jimin’s, grabbing both of his hands and raising them to his lips. He keeps hold of one and reaches for his face with the other. He’s caressing Jimin’s soft, tear-stained cheek and trying to show him with his eyes how much he cares. He’s never been good with words. He leans in and presses a soft and slow kiss against Jimin’s lips, trying to pour all of his affection into it.
“Jimin, there will never be anything in this world that will keep me from kissing you. It is impossible to taint perfection. I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for years and just repressed it to the point where I couldn’t recognize it. These past few months of discovery with you have cracked my heart wide open. It’s okay if you’re not there yet, I just couldn’t wait any longer to tell you. I know this isn’t the ideal time.”
“Yoongi. Shut up. You’re babbling. I love you too, you adorable mess. I’ve been in love with you for years and aware of it. I resigned myself years ago to being your brother and counted myself lucky. Now Min Yoongi is actually in love with me? THE Min Yoongi? Pinch me, I’m dreaming.”
Yoongi suddenly bursts into tears and wraps Jimin in his arms, dragging him over to the couch and curling into him like a comma hugging the break in a sentence. Jimin is crying too and they lay there for awhile whispering their declarations of love over and over again. He never wants to leave this spot. He can see the headline now: Suga of BTS retires to spend life on couch with paramour.
They’re pulled from their haze of affection when both of their phones buzz incessantly. Jimin pulls his from his pocket and sees the group text filling with messages quickly.
“Aish, sorry. I forgot to tell you that we have a mandatory group meeting tonight, Namjoon is making Dae-Hyun come clean to the group. I was supposed to be here asking you if you want to announce our relationship to everyone before he talks. He’s the one who saw us in Osaka and it’s going to come out to the group either way.”
“Absolutely. I’m not sure how I’m going to react when I see that bastard, but nothing would help more than being able to tell our family that we’ve fallen in love.”
Jimin’s face breaks into a smile that is blinding like the sun and Yoongi takes a second to bask in it before he pulls him up off the couch so they can head home.
*********
Jungkook is the first to arrive in the living room for the mandatory meeting. Based on everyone’s responses to the group texts, several of them are finishing up activities out of the house and are doing their best to hurry back. Taehyung never answered at all. Jungkook knows that he’s in his room, he hasn’t left since this morning. It’s driving Jungkook insane, the waiting and uncertainty. Tae said he wasn’t leaving, but this sure feels a lot like a break up.
He hears a noise from down the hall and he sits up straight, craning his neck for a glimpse of who it might be. Taehyung and Jin walk side-by-side in silence. Jin sits next to Jungkook while Tae opts to sit on the opposite side of the room and avoid looking either of them in the eye. Jin is the one who decides to break the silence.
“Is this what the meeting is about, Jungkook?”
“What do you mean, hyung?”
“Clearly something is wrong between you and Tae, did Joonie call the meeting so we could discuss it and help you work through it.”
“No, of course not! We can handle our own issues, we don’t know any more information about this than you do.”
They’re interrupted when Jimin and Yoongi come through the door with beaming smiles on their faces. Jungkook’s spirits lift a little, maybe the meeting is for something positive. Why else would they look so happy? They barely get their shoes off when Hobi bounds in behind them, throwing an arm around each and giggling. The three walk over and settle themselves on the couches.
“So! Why are we all here? Does anyone know?”
“Hob-ah, we need to wait for Joon.”
“Ooooh, Yoongi-hyung knows what this is about! Come on, spill the beans! I bet I can guess.”
“I bet you can guess a small portion, but that portion is not the main part of the meeting. Which will probably shock you all and I need to know you’ll let anyone speaking finish what they have to say before you pounce. So shut it, Hoseok.”
Hobi sticks his tongue out at Yoongi and turns to lay upside down with his legs thrown over the back of the couch, trying to lighten the mood. Only Jimin and Yoongi give him small smiles, unable to resist him moreso than any of the other members.
The front door opens and Namjoon walks in with Dae-Hyun trailing behind him. The brunette looks worse for the wear. His eyes are bright red and still brimming with tears. His shaking hands are wringing against each other and he won’t look at anyone. Jungkook immediately jumps from his seat and so does Taehyung. They run over to comfort their new friend, shocked to see him here in such a state, but Namjoon puts up a hand to hold them back.
“No. Leave him alone and go sit down.”
The leader's stern tone makes them realize this might be more serious than they thought. They both return to their seats to wait. Namjoon goes to the kitchen table and grabs a chair for Dae-Hyun, pushing him down into it at the “head” of the circle before he himself takes a seat in the armchair on the opposite side.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. Dae-Hyun is going to tell us a story. You’re going to let him finish the entire thing before you say a single word. Then I’m going to tell you about the meeting we just had. After that, you may give your input. I’m very serious about this. Hear the man out. Is there anything anyone needs to share with the group before we start?”
Namjoon shoots a look over to Jimin and Jungkook sees his face split into a smile that can only be described as ecstatic. He stands up and after a beat so does Yoongi. They walk to the center of the circle and interlace their fingers, sharing a look of conspiratorial glee.
“Yoongi-hyung and I know what story Dae-Hyun is going to be sharing and we play a role in it. It’s something very serious, but what we have to say as a precursor is kind of amazing.”
“Jimin and I are in love. We want to be together and we want your support.”
Hobi lets out an unintelligible screech and launches himself across the room at the two, the momentum knocking them all to the ground where he continues to wiggle around on top of them.
“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Jin-hyung you owe me dinner!”
Jin rolls his eyes, but is wearing a fond smile. Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes across the circle. He’d been looking at Jimin with glee, but once he looked at Jungkook, the smile had dropped from his face. Now he just looked sad, forlorn, melancholy. Jungkook can’t stand it and looks back at the trio rolling around on the floor with a half-hearted chuckle. Yoongi has been trying to escape since Hobi first ran at them.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough Hob-ah! Let them up! Needless to say, we all support this and couldn’t be happier about it, but now we need to get into serious business.”
“Sorry Joonie, I’m just so glad I don’t have to keep watching this push and pull any longer.”
“Dae-Hyun, the floor is yours.”
Dae-Hyun starts to talk about getting the job at BigHit, being approached by someone at the Big 3, getting close to all of them, stealing the note off of Jungkook’s corkboard and then leaving it on his door in Taiwan. It’s taking everything in Jungkook to not look at Taehyung, to not stand up and say something, to not yell and scream. His respect for Namjoon is the only thing that’s keeping him glued to his seat.
He goes on to explain walking in on Yoongi and Jimin in Osaka, confessing his feelings to Jimin and kissing him, and coming clean to Namjoon. As soon as he mentions Jimin, Jungkook can see Yoongi start to turn red and he’s suddenly nervous. They all remember the anger issues that he used to deal with and no one has any desire to see that kind of rage again.
“I suppose I’d like to end the story with an apology, though that seems highly inadequate. There’s no excuse for what I did. I can only promise you that I never did anything with the note other than leave it for Jungkook, I was hoping it would be a sign for him to stay alert and discreet. Instead it had a terrible ripple effect. I’ve really come to like you all and you’re incredibly inspiring people. The last thing I want is for anything bad to happen to any of you.”
Yoongi scoffs and stands up as if to start towards Dae-Hyun, but Namjoon stands up and shoots him a glare. He grumbles under his breath and sits back down.
“Dae-Hyun. Thank you for not keeping anything from them. I appreciate your candor. Now, it’s my turn. Dae-Hyun and I just came from Bang’s office where he relayed the entire story. Essentially the company has decided to turn Dae-Hyun into a ‘double agent’. He doesn’t know the real name of his contact and therefore doesn’t know what company has decided to attack us this way. They worked together to form a plan to hopefully bring down whoever is behind it all. In exchange, BigHit will help his mother.”
“In exchange?! How on earth does he still deserve anything in return?!”
“Yoongi-hyung. I asked you to wait to talk. You may be my elder, but I’m the leader here and this is band business. No matter what Dae-Hyun has done, his mother doesn’t deserve to die just because he has a conscience. That’s enough.”
The room falls silent, it’s rare that Namjoon pulls rank on his hyungs. No one knows quite how to react and just waits for the leader to finish as he requested.
“I’m not privy to every detail of the deal that was made, apparently in order for it to work we have to be kept partially in the dark as if we never knew anything about any of this to begin with. The portion I do know is that Dae-Hyun will continue to work with us and we need to make it seem as if he’s still hanging out with us socially as well. Whether in a group or individually, he needs to be shown as growing closer to us. I’ll open the floor to everyone. Thoughts?”
“I don’t want to be anywhere near him,” Taehyung whispers under his breath and Jungkook can only nod in agreement. He’s unable to force out any words.
“I’m sure it would look most natural if Jiminie started seeing him again, but I don’t think any of us want them alone together,” Jin points out and Yoongi lets out what can only be described as a feral growl.
“Excuse me, I can make my own choices and speak for myself. Uncomfortable as it may be, I can start talking to Dae-Hyun at work again and maybe meeting for coffee in public or something similar. Stopping whoever is trying to bring us down needs to be the priority. We’ve got two couples to protect now,” Jimin interjects.
It’s almost as if something in Yoongi snaps. He stands up from his chair, grabs Dae-Hyun by the collar, and drags him out of the room and into the hallway. He ignores everyone’s protests and barrels out the front door with the other man trying to keep up with his grip.
********
The rest of the group discusses the issue a bit more, with Jimin trying to call Yoongi and getting no answer. Taehyung asks if they’re dismissed and the second Namjoon starts to nod he hightails it back to his room and locks the door. He’s sure everyone else wants to talk more, but he needs to process what just happened.
Someone who meant something to Jimin, who they all went out of their way to befriend, almost ended their entire lives. He can’t decide if it makes him want to cling tightly to Jungkook and savor every second possible in case their demise is on the horizon, or if he wants to run now to spare them the scandal later. He’s never felt so conflicted.
He slides down to the floor, back against the door and head in his hands. He just wishes he could shut off his brain. Jungkook can. He can compartmentalize in a way that amazes Taehyung. He’d give up everything if it meant his mind would never eat him alive again. He’s breathing slowly in the pattern that Yoongi taught him for panic attacks when he hears the soft strains of music coming from the other side of the door. He frowns and wonders where it’s coming from when he hears a familiar voice start to sing.
Lately I've been thinkin', thinkin' 'bout what we had
I know it was hard, it was all that we knew, yeah
Have you been drinkin' to take all the pain away?
I wish that I could give you what you deserve
A lump forms in Taehyung’s throat hearing Jungkook’s soft and sad voice push the lyrics through the door. He can tell that he’s similarly sitting on the floor, the voice on the same level as his head. He presses his ear to the door to listen.
There's nothing like us
There's nothing like you and me
Together through the storm
There's nothing like us
There's nothing like you and me together
Taehyung wants nothing more than to open the door and wrap Jungkook in his arms, dry his tears, and tell him everything is going to be okay. He can’t bring himself to reach for the knob, he knows if he gives in now they’ll be in more danger than if they call it quits now. He hasn’t even had the time to process Jungkook lying to him for weeks. He starts to stand up to walk over to his bed and bury himself under the covers when he hears the song come to an end and sees a piece of paper with Jungkook’s handwriting slide underneath his door. He picks it up and the words make his heart stop in his chest.
I love you.
********
Yoongi has dragged Dae-hyun down the hallway to a secluded alcove where no one lived and backed him up against the wall. He’s doing his best to regain his composure, trying to focus on the raw despair in the other man’s eyes, but he can’t stop imagine his lips touching Jimin’s. His lips. His flower. Jimin must have been so scared.
He punches the wall next to Dae-Hyun’s head instead and the man doesn’t even flinch. That’s when it clicks for Yoongi that he understands he’d deserve a beating right now and is willing to take it. He’s a broken shell of a man who was desperate to save his mother’s life. He made all the wrong choices along the way and fell in love. No, he shouldn’t have kissed Jimin and Yoongi doesn’t know if he can ever get past that, but he sees no malice in the man in front of him.
“You really didn’t want to do this to us, did you?”
“No. I was uncomfortable from the start, but would’ve done anything for my mother. Once I realized how amazing you all are, I knew I should never have accepted the job in the first place. I know that you’ll all hate me indefinitely and I deserve that. I don’t deserve the company’s offer to help my mother, but she doesn’t deserve to die because of me either. I’m willing to accept jail time for blackmail if that’s what’s decided. I’ll take whatever punishment is deemed necessary.”
The hard shell around Yoongi cracks just a bit. He’s finding it hard to feel hatred for this man, even if he absolutely feels anger and is fairly sure he’ll never like him again. Maybe this is the growth everyone talks about in regards to his temper. In the past, nothing was ever able to cut through it.
“Alright. Go home for now. We’re all going to talk and we’ll be in touch. I don’t know if I want you with Jimin by yourselves, but we’ll sort it out amongst us.”
“Thank you, Yoongi-hyung. I am at your mercy.”
The man bows low as Yoongi backs up and looks just the tiniest bit lighter. He turns to walk down the hall, but Yoongi calls after him to say one more thing.
“If my relationship with Jimin comes out in any way or Taehyung and Jungkook’s, I won’t be this kind. I will hunt you down and I will make you sorry you messed with my family.”
#jungkook#taehyung#jimin#yoongi#namjoon#suga#rm#hobi#jin#taekook#yoonmin#bts#bts ff#bts fanfic#jungkook x Taehyung#yoongi x jimin#canon compliant#homophobia#internalized homophobia#fluff#angst#smut#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst
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that all being said i’m genuinely so excited for the TSM set to be done. idk i just feel like it’s going to be sick to have written a full set of books idk !! :-)
#three novels and a novella#for a grand total of ~200k words#wait why is ghost stories by itself almost that long lmao#ah ghost stories. classic.#you know i always complain about ghost stories but i was looking through it the other day#it's not great i mean i'm a much stronger writer now#but it's not nearly as bad as i make it seem#especially the later parts#part 1 was rough but like part three? part *five*? those are solid#anyway tho#also maybe i should come up with a better name for the set than just naming it after its weakest link#just a thought#lol
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Livestream~ (corpse_husband x reader)
Alright, I’ve skipped ahead a few prompts because I’ve been just too excited to write out this idea and I was falling behind... so I will be going back, but I’ve skipped to my day 9 prompt. Slight (SLIGHT) exhibition. To reiterate the title, this is a oneshot about you and Corpse. I want to just say that this Corpse is him as a character and not him as a person. Think of a “fanon” version of some sorts. I know that the real Corpse is a very private person (obviously) and I would hate for him to be uncomfortable if he were to ever find this. I am really just writing this for comfort and the enjoyment of others. So, without further ado, enjoy!
Word Count: 5,958
Day 9 - Exhibition (Implied)
“Yo! YO! It’s Corpse! It’s fucking Corpse, holy shit-“
“What? Literally how?”
“I- fucking- I saw you legit go into electrical with pewds, leave, for me to then go up and find his body right next to the vent.”
“He was doing the upload task, I think, cuz’ I left him there when he was alive. You definitely self-reported.”
“Toast, you gotta believe me, it’s fucking Corpse.”
The arguments while playing this game were some of the most frustrating and yet exciting conversations you’d had in ages. Especially when it came down to the final two. That was the jackpot.
“Ah… nah, Fable, you’ve been super sus this entire round. There’s no way you did card swipe that quickly-“
“WHAT?!”
The two dings from your headset indicated that the remaining players had voted which only left you. Since Toast didn’t believe you, Corpse had this round in the bag. God. Damnit.
“Fucking- Fine. Thank god for your detective skills, Toast,” You grumbled bitterly, pouting on camera as you voted for the black avatar. Corpse’s avatar.
“You’re just mad that I figured you out..” The streamer teased, you rolling your eyes in response to his unmatched “knowledge.”
“Yeah, yeah, totally… Corpse is just too fucking good at this game, I swear to god,” You continued, definitely a little irritated that the match turned on you so fast.
It didn’t help when all you could do was helplessly watch from the other side of the screen as your purple avatar launched out into space. Oh well, it was over.
“Heh… I’m just glad you admit it,” The deep voice filled your headphones making you roll your eyes.
The screen suddenly darkened, a red gleam appearing as two characters stood next to one another. Spedicey and, who would’ve guessed, Corpse. Shocking.
“What?!” Toast exclaims.
“I can’t BELIEVE you didn’t think it was him!” Lily speaks up.
“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, Toast,” Felix almost groans, sounding slightly annoyed.
“Seriously…” You comment, smirking slightly at the groan of confusion from the man in question.
“What? Fable, you were so sus that entire round!” Toast stressed, your headphones filling with laughter as you clicked to play again.
“What do you mean?! I Iegit just scanned my card and you’re trying to call me on it! For NO good reason!” You retorted, wanting to facepalm so hard.
“I didn’t think you could do it that fast!” He yelled back, “I thought you were faking it, there was no way!”
“The only one who really struggles with card swipe here is Corpse,“ Jack cut in, you erupting in laughter at his words.
“What?- Uh- Come on, don’t do me like that…” He essentially growled into the mic, your arms erupting with goosebumps at the sound of him once again.
“That’s not true either! Jack, you know how hard card swipe is!” Valkarae stood up for the deep spoken imposter, “…but you guys both won anyway. So, whatever…”
You all simply laughed along with one another at that, the frustration fading as you mentally prepared yourself for another round of this thought-provoking game. Or… so you thought.
“Hey, can we actually hold off for a second? I need to use the bathroom-“ Lily asked, you smiling at how gentle her voice always was.
A stark contrast to the one that followed.
“Yeah, same here. Gamer bladder,” Corpse followed.
You shook your head at the later comment, clearing your throat as before leaning in towards your mic, “So, 5 minute break then?”
“Yeah.”
“Sounds good!”
“Sure, I’ll just be here.”
Felix, Rae, and Jack responded.
“…Sykunno?” You asked, having not heard his voice in awhile.
“He left to use the bathroom after he finished his tasks in the last round, texted me saying something about getting a snack,” Toast replied for him, you nodding to no one in particular but your chat.
“Got it,” You pressed the mute button for discord and turned to your face cam, “Guess I’ll run to the restroom as well, stay tuned!”
You clicked a few things to allow an ad to run across your stream, labeling it for around four minutes before reaching for your headphones. You placed them on your desk and sighed, leaning back in your chair.
You heard the door in the hallway open, smiling gently to yourself before standing from the chair. You turned towards your own closed door, taking the appropriate amount of steps to open it before peaking around the doorway.
“Hm…” You walked out slightly, turning towards the closed bathroom door and smirking before creeping out of your room and over to his.
Corpse’s room. Your boyfriend.
You and Corpse had started seeing each other a month or two into quarantine during the pandemic. Having known each other a year or two from both of your professions bringing you together under the circumstances, it seemed appropriate.
He was a real-life horror story teller, taking people’s information by email and anonymously telling their tales. You? You told mythologies of all kinds through your own renditions of the stories with art. You also managed to make the stories more light hearted and funny with a few jokes now and then, and people seemed to appreciate the humor you found in some of the topics.
Your channel name had always been Fantasized Fables, a little odd but it got your content across. Since your channel hit, your name was no secret but people liked calling you Fable.
You honestly thought it made you sound a lot more badass than you actually were.
Either way, somehow you got connect through a couple of friends and instantly clicked. Corpse was… well, Corpse. You didn’t know that you’d helped him so much when he actually told you what was going on. The endless nights where you would both be up at an ungodly hour and just dm-ing one another. It started after a few nights you both saw each other online, quickly progressing into something much bigger than that.
It got deep all the time. You both had so many thoughts about life and each other’s and your own… you felt so safe when telling this faceless internet friend all your deepest, darkest thoughts. But, you knew Corpse had more. He always told you more, you almost wanted more to comfort him over. The feelings started to fester and grow… there was no stopping how you felt about him.
The day you two actually met was never going to be forgotten, by either of you. It was unintentional, almost straight from a movie. You had, at this point, exchanged contact information and had been now calling for the majority of May. Not to mention, you both found out you lived in SoCal, only progressing On this particular afternoon, you texted him that you were going on a coffee run to Starbucks… him saying he was going out for the first time as well.
Masked up and muffled, you of course could tell it was his voice from across the street. The slightly amplified “oh fuck” was the biggest giveaway you could’ve imagined. Your eyes looking up to find a man, dressed in complete black, chains and earrings, shaggy black hair- there was so doubt in your mind.
You called his name, his eyes looking up to find yours across the way… traffic laws weren’t going to stop the saint up to him and into his arms. A big, long, well-deserved embraced you knew the both of you needed. He had always been so kind… and gentle… him being physically there was just so… relieving.
The rest is history, and you honestly moved into his apartment as quickly as you could. You couldn’t stand him living alone like that anymore, and he obviously let you in without a second thought.
You both were extremely happy to have each other, and it just kept getting better from there.
You gently shut the door behind you, creeping over to his setup and sliding into his chair, humming softly as you watched the endless chat messages buildup along the screen and peering at the number of viewers he had now achieved.
JEEEZUS christ, 200k?! That’s insane! You thought, widening your eyes at the number on the screen.
Your streams only ever reached 90k, which was a lot more than you had expected. The number was slowly growing now, though… ever since Corpse blew up on tiktok for just posting videos of his hands.
Wild.
You clicked through a few comments, watching super comments flash along the chat as well as mods trying to attempt to get slow chat to work. You couldn’t help but slightly laugh at the struggle, turning back towards the game as a few of the avatars began bouncing around with one another. People were getting back to the game.
You were about to shift around in his seat, reaching for the keyboard to type something in game when two larger hands came gently down on your shoulders. They pushed you gently down against the chair, causing it to lean back with your body. A face moved next to your ear, lips grazing against the skin.
“Whattup Baby?~” That low voice growled, you gently flinching at the rumbling next to your ear.
You turned to find Corpse grinning down at you, his hands easing up off your body and reaching for your face. His right hand came in contact with your cheek, gently squeezing against it as he slowly walked around the chair and crouched down. To be right beneath your eye level.
“Hi..” You hummed, leaning over to press your lips against his forehead before leaning back to look in his maroon-like eyes.
“Why’re you in my chair? You need to get back to your own stream, silly~” He hummed, beginning to stand as he reached for your arm to pull you out of the chair.
You grinned, your head falling back begrudgingly as he easily pulled you from the comfortable seat.
“Wait…! I just wanted to see you…” You lightly whined, him chuckling in response as you stood on your two feet. Him replacing the spot where you had sat.
“Uhuh… and why’s that?” He teased lightly, you couldn’t help but scoff gently while your heart rate increased. He always had that effect on you.
“Well, I mean… I wanted to both congratulate and bother you about your… fucking imposter round-“ He erupted in laughter, you grinning along with him with a simple eye roll, “hey! Let me finish, it was a good round, I’ll give you that… but you threw me under the bus while doing it…! For no reason!”
He raised his brow lightly, his laughter coming to a soft chuckle as he shrugged, “I mean, I gotta keep my title as ‘too fucking good at imposter.’ Sorry, princess…”
You playfully glared in his direction, a stupid smirk spreading across his face. Your lower lip jutted out from your upper one, crossing your arms as you simply pouted in response. He huffed in response, his smirk turning to more of a smile as he reached back out for you.
“C’mere…” He grumbled, his hand grabbing your arm as he pulled you back down to the chair.
“Wait- Ah!” You almost fell against him, barely able to catch yourself against the arm rests on his chair. You looked up, slightly panicked from the sudden fall, to find Corpse smirking right back.
“Wait for what? You’re not ready for affection?” He asked softly, his hand reaching up to push a few loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“N-No, that’s not it…” You mumbled, letting your gaze fall to his chest, seeing the definition of his body through his baggy sweater.
You felt fingers press against the underside of your chin, pushing your face up to look back towards him. You felt your face flush in embarrassment, smiling nervously as his smirk had never faltered.
“You don’t look very sure of yourself…” he whispered to you.
You gently bit at the inside cheek, shrugging quickly, “C-Cuz’ I’m not…”
He chuckled deeply, leaning in slightly as he grabbed you by the lips, gently humming against your mouth as his hands gripped your sides.
You whimpered softly against him, beginning to kiss back as you readjusted yourself in his lap. You quietly wrapped your arms around the back of his neck as you leaned against him.
He chuckled softly, moving his lips against yours as his hands gently slipped up beneath the sides of your shirt and lovingly stroked at your now exposed skin.
“God, you’re so beautiful…” he whispered against you, catching your lips quickly as he continued, “You’re too perfect, fuck… too fucking perfect…”
“Corpse, I-..” You kissed him again, one of your hands reaching up towards his head as you tangled your fingers into the back of his hair.
He hummed against your mouth, squeezing your sides gently as his smily broke out into a grin. The tip of his nose pressed against yours as he sighed, “Yes, princess?~”
“Careful, we need to get back to the game…” You whispered, growing a little nervous as he chuckled.
“They can wait…” He sighed, leaning back in to press his lips back to yours, kissing you deeply once again.
You squeaked lightly, timid as ever before you kissed back. You felt his teeth grazing against your lower lip, gently nipping at the skin. You couldn’t help but slightly moan, pulling away from your lips as he trailed light kisses down your chin and along your jaw.
He was going for your neck, getting there before you could express any protest. You sighed loudly as his lips connected to the skin right below your ear, gently growling against you as you felt a slight wet sensation lick against your earlobe. You shivered, the side of your face falling to the top of his head as he continued his attack on your neck.
“Fuck, Corpse~”
“God, you sound so beautiful baby… you keep acting like this and after the stream? I’ll have no choice but to-“
The desk behind you started vibrating in loud, long buzzes. Both of you freezing in your spots as you turned over your shoulder to find Corpse’s phone lighting up with a phone call.
You quirked your brow, “Who’d be calling you this early in the morning?”
It was 12 pm, you both had woken up at 10 am to actually get ready in time to stream. It wasn’t early for the world, but it was early for this apartment.
“I don’t know… weird,” He leaned forward in his chair, you holding tight against his chest as he grabbed the phone and brought it towards the two of you.
You both looked down at the contact name on the screen, your eyes widening at the name that read.
“Why- hm…” Corpse quickly swiped to answer the call, holding the speaker up to his ear, “Hey Rae, everything okay-“
He stopped suddenly mid sentence, his eyes widening as his cheeks lit up in a bright red. It had to have been the most embarrassed you’d ever seen him, his eyes falling to yours as you read the panic within them.
“R-Right- shit… s-sorry- I-I’ll turn it down now… bye,“ He quickly brought the phone away, immediately hanging up as his eyes flashed towards the chat function on his stream.
“Is… Is everything okay…?” You asked hesitantly, leaning over slightly to read for yourself what people had to say. Did something happen in chat while you guys were preoccupied?
Corpse didn’t respond, his eyes just scanned what the letters read on screen. You frowned, you confusion growing by the second. He hit a button on the keyboard, did he just unmute?
A strained laugh left his mouth, falling back in the chair with you still in his arms. His eyes found yours, his lips slowly turning to a grin before he laughed one of the hardest laughs you had yet to hear from him.
Your eyes widened, completely baffled at this point.
“Corpse, please- What happened?”
“We- We- AHA! We were unmuted!! That ENTIRE time!” He cackled, his hand landing on his chest to almost support him in some way.
You, on the other hand, went from complete befuddlement to absolute humiliation. There was no way THAT was just heard by hundreds upon thousands of people. No fucking way.
“Wh-What??” You began to panic, reaching for his broad shoulders and gently holding onto them, “Wh-What are you even t-talking about?!”
He gently gripped onto you in return, readjusting you against him as he held you there. His laughter died down before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your nose.
You both were open that you were in a relationship, people knew… but, that doesn’t mean you necessarily wanted them to hear..
“Hey, baby, don’t worry… it could’ve been a lot worse… We’re fine~” he reassured, your brow still tensed from your worry. You knew the worst had already happened when he blew up, but how would they use his voice in that kind of tone…
You didn’t want to think about it too much. Not jealous, more just… weirded out. Who knew how people would use your voice in that tone either? You didn’t dwell on it.
“Ah, o-okay… yeah, nothing we need to worry about now,” You nodded with him, his gentle features turning to a warm smile. He brought his hand up to your cheek, his thumb gently swiping across your skin as he hummed.
“Mhm, all is fine… I promise,” He mumbled to you, leaning in softly to press his lips back against your forehead.
You sighed, pausing against him for a moment before leaning away, “Well… p-probably shouldn’t keep them waiting m-much longer…”
Corpse raised his brow gently smiling sadly in agreement with a slight nod. He gently reached for your hips once again, holding them gently as he helped hoist you back onto your two feet. You yelped softly as you let yourself be lifted, extending your two legs to meet the floor.
You stood still for a moment, your eyes meeting his as you timidly smiled, “S-Sorry about the mic thing… I should’ve stayed in my stream.”
You nervously laughed, his smile never faltering as yours broke out into a grin. Your slight guilt written all over your features.
“No, no, you’re totally fine… don’t apologize,” He hummed, his thumbs gently pressing against your hips as he kept reassuring.
“Okay, haha… now we’ll never forget to check our mics,” You winked softly, your hands grabbing onto his larger ones and squeezing them gently in return.
“Haha… never,” He nodded softly, tilting his head gently to the side as he simply watched you.
You sighed, begrudgingly pulling his hands from your hips as you took a small step away. You gently bounced on the balls of your feet, awkwardly putting your hands together behind your back.
“Hm… well! I- uh… will see you in game…” You smiled, his body turning in his chair as he leaned his chin against two of his fingers that you had freshly reapplied black nail polish that night before.
His brow raised quizzically at you, the damn smirk playing at his lips once again. His fingers flexed slightly, his hands following the motion. You could see the veins running down his wrist from where you stood.
He briefly chuckled, “Yeah… I’ll see you there, baby…”
With that, he turned back towards his screen while you didn’t hesitate towards the door. You walked over and grabbed the handle, briefly turning back to the darkened man on the screen, clicking away at the bursts of notifications he was getting from discord.
Oops.
“I love you-“ You flushed, his eyes pulling away from his screen to find you in the doorway. You could see the tint of pink along his cheeks in the darkness of the room.
“…I love you too. Hurry though, Rae is flipping out-“ He laughed, you not wasting a second more to close the door and bound back over to your recording room.
You shut the door behind you, looking up towards your brightened monitor and feeling your breath catch in your chest. You could see your chat blowing up from here, your phone lighting up with MULTIPLE notifications… God, what an unfortunate mistake for Corpse to have made.
You quicken your pace back to your chair, sliding in and putting your headphones back atop of your head. Your camera had come back on in the time you were gone, giving the device a nervous grin before turning towards the game.
“S-Sorry guys, didn’t mean to take that long- uhm…” Your eyes scanned over the chat, not surprised to find it full of caps-locked comments screaming about what happened on Corpse’s stream.
You sighed nervously, your eyes now finding your discord application notifying you that you had… almost fifty notifications?! You mentally had to roll your eyes, quickly turning back towards the camera with a sheepish smile.
“I- uh… I have to go for another minute- B-Be right back!” You laughed, turning on another ad before mentally cursing at yourself. God damnit- your eyes scanned over the viewers on your stream.
What the shit- when did I get 30k viewers?! What the hell?! Of course this is when your viewers decide to spike.
You groaned to yourself, your head falling to your hand as the other reached for your mouse. You clicked to your discord, slowly… but surely, un-deafened your mic.
“OH. MY. GOD. You FUCKING dumbass!” Rae yelled as soon as you unmuted, flinching at the pitch to her tone. It felt like you were being scolded.
“What?! I can’t show my girlfriend some love?!” Corpse replied, not yelling but a definite inflection in his tone.
“No! Nothing wrong with that! But CHECK your MIC next time!!” She laughed loudly. Oh my god.
“Jesus Christ, dude… or at least lower the sensitivity significantly…” Jack spoke up, almost sounding disappointed.
“Ey, welcome back, Fable-“ Felix spoke up, the cheeky grin evident in his tone.
What a fucking asshole-
“FABLE!”
“Oh my god-“
“You guys can’t wait til after stream?!”
“Wait, what am I joining into…?” A new voice intervened, interrupting Rae, Toast, and Lily.
Charlie, what a man, coming in at the worst time.
“H-Hey Charlie…” You spoke up in a greeting.
“Wha- Wait! Answer the question, Fable!” Lily squealed, a groan leaving your mouth as you fell towards your mic.
“I’m sorry! I-I really didn’t mean for it to happen! I had no clue-“
“Yeah, wait, this isn’t on Fable. She just went to go visit Corpse in the other room, guys, chill…” Felix actually stuck up for you, your face lifting in surprise as his words.
“Uh- yeah, actually, I guess that’s fair,” Jack commented, you nervously laughing in response.
“I… am so sorry to all of you,” You apologized softly, a gentle chorus of laughs following your meek apology.
“No, no, no, you’re so fine. You guys weren’t trying to broadcast whatever… that was…” Sykunno hummed awkwardly, you laughing lightly at his uncertainty.
“It was a poor mistake on my part, I’m sorry, Fable…” Corpse spoke up, you grinning at the sound of his voice.
“N-No worries… hey, we already went over this in person. Can we get back to the game?” You grumbled, another fit of laughter through the group at your excusing of the situation.
“Ahaha, yeah let’s get back into it,” Toast replied, the sound of his mouse clicking lightly being heard in the call.
You sighed, deafening yourself once again and turning back on your stream, “Hey everyone, yep… yep, everything’s fine. No worries, I promise, haha. We took a break for a little longer than expected, but we’re back!”
You un-deafened and were met with sound of a very very confused Charlie, “Wait… so… no one’s going to explain to me what happened?”
You all erupted into loud laughter, you falling back slightly in your chair as you cackled. The first voice to come back was Rae, shockingly.
“Don’t worry, Charlie… we’ll tell you later,” She snickered, you laughing along as you came back to your keyboard.
“So… we can start now, though?” Toast spoke up once again.
You began to give confirmations of “yes” with soft ‘yeah’s and ‘mhm’s. Lazy, but it got the point across.
“Cool, starting the next round…” He clicked play again and the countdown began.
“Alright, everyone, remember to MUTE your mics!” Jack spoke up, you rolling your eyes in response as Corpse’s laugh raised above the rest.
“Will do. Thanks,” He chuckled, a louder laugh sounding through the call once again from all mics.
Your screen turned dark, the red avatar of the Among Us character moving to shush you from the screen. You sighed, watching it turn dark again.
“Yeah- yeah, you’re welcome!” Jack played along, grinning softly at the joke as the screen began lighting up once against.
Your screen displayed your avatar next to Corpse’s, the bright red letters of “Imposter” reading across the computer. You raised your eyebrows, making sure you were completely muted on call before chuckling.
“Oh… Hell yeah. Let’s go…”
#corpse#corpse_husband#streamer#youtube#fanfic#fanfiction#among us#gaming#pc games#twitch#corpse_#xreader#x reader#fanon#one shot#writing#creative writing#corpse x reader#onlyhands
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hello everyone! what if i came up with a fun name for my followers. as if i have a brand instead of 5-10 friends who sort of pay attention to what i’m doing here. goslings. hello goslings. wait i have an oc with the last name gosling. oh well whatever - it’s about time around here for a little status update, isn’t it?
darkling
as of this weekend, i’ve finished the first draft of darkling (trans nd specfic king lear retelling)! only seven acts and almost 200k words. sighs in overwriting.
maybe i’m still riding the high of finishing something, but i would venture to say that this first draft is better than i expected it to be. while i have a formidable list of things to edit, i doubt i’ll have to make major structural revisions… which means i’m hoping to work on said edits and open up beta reading this summer, if not sooner! (my heart says to try for spring break, but my brain says that would be terribly ambitious of me, especially after i’ve existed facedown in this book for a good three months.)
AMT
with darkling drafted, a modern tragedy, the podcast, once again becomes my first priority! (...also a shakespeare retelling. ah, well, we have a brand over here at goose-books dot gov.) more coming about this Soon. (like, within this week soon.)
the other ones
ah, the other ones. [gesturing vaguely at the WIPs piled like sleeping kittens in the corner]
look, i’ve… i’ve learned by now that i can’t really go into any new year stating that i’m going to draft X or Y. as much as i would like to… i do not control the random bursts of inspiration that pin me to my desk and make me write 200k words about my personal reinterpretation of king lear which i have only just read due to quarantine. (just an example. just off the top of my head.) i like to keep my writing goals loose; i like to allow new projects to come and go as they might!
that said, i do have tentative thoughts about my long-running WIPs. currently, TMR (high fantasy with faeries and trans kids) is sitting as a full draft from 2018 (wow). quark (magical nyc, monsters, adhd, prophecy, capitalism bad, etc) is sitting as half a draft from 2019, which i never ended up finishing (oops). and love h (butch4butchhamlet) has yet to be drafted at all.
depending on… what ends up Happening in my life in the next couple of months (this is a cryptic allusion to college application results, which affect my writing plans somewhat), i would like to pick one of these to draft this year! in the event that any of you [gestures at my mostly-nonexistent readership] have opinions / a favorite of those WIPs… [slaps the askbox invitingly]
valentine van velt (holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy) is, as always, my odd WIP out. (”i’m weird,” it says. “have you ever seen me without this stupid second person narration? that’s weird.”) i wrote a full draft of it last year and i don’t really intend to write another; for better or worse it’s a story quite embedded in a specific period in my life. that said, i am also terrified to post it publicly anywhere because of its painfully clear parallels to my real actual irl mental health journey. scream. i’ll also take opinions about this one, for the record [slaps the askbox again]
in other news, by hook or by crook* i will put that short story into the world within the next few months. i refuse to let that thing turn an entire year old rotting in its google doc.
*by acceptance to some kind of magazine/contest or by me just throwing it at this blog with confetti
in conclusion: plans! i heard of em. they’re vague, but i have them! i’m very excited to finally put some stuff into the world this year instead of just promising that i will! i hope you’re all doing well; my dms and askbox are always open! now if you will excuse me i am off to go put on hand cream.
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The Long Walk
(We have a lot to celebrate this month: 30 years from the publication of Good Omens, one year since the series came out. I, myself, have some big milestones: 666 followers, 200k+ on AO3, and 30 fics posted! And I’m about to hit 4,000 Tumblr posts. Naturally, I choose to celebrate with something VERY melancholy
(This fic was inspired by my prompt for @itsthearoway - milestones of Crowley and Aziraphale through history - but was written right after I went into self-isolation. It’s a bit of a reflection on death, life, and hope. I’m not tagging it for death because technically there are no on-screen deaths, but if you are avoiding fic that make you think about mortality DO NOT READ THIS. It’s hopeful, but also very angst.
(Thank you all! I’m working on a longer light-hearted fic about the early days of the arrangement for @itsthearoway that I hope to have the first chapter ready for in a couple of days. Here’s to another 200k!)
--
The Long Walk - A short saga of the world, two observers, and the question: what is it all for? (1697 words)
Also on AO3
The sands stretch away from the Walls of Eden, eternally in either direction. Endless empty wasteland. Unrelenting heat fills the air, beaming down from the sun, up from the dunes. The kind of heat that nothing can live in.
Through the endless empty wasteland walk an angel and a demon, side-by-side.
“Seems an awful waste,” says the demon. “Build a whole world with nothing in it. If the Almighty is so powerful, why not make everywhere like Eden?”
“Eden was special,” says the angel, sadly. He hasn’t been cast out, not in the way the humans and the demon have. But the Garden’s time is over, and he can move on, or fade with it. “Eden was perfect.”
“Yeah, a perfect prison.” The demon rolls his eyes. “Too perfect for the likes of me.”
“No, not perfect like that. Perfectly balanced.” The angel holds out a hand, tipping it side to side. “The weather, the animals, all life, everything hung perfectly from the slightest thread. The was no…no room for deviation, you might say. No room for evil, yes, but also for good. For knowledge. For choice or free will. Once the humans had that, they had to leave. Even if they stayed, it all would have fallen apart.”
The demon considers as they walked. “That’s your ‘ineffable’ explanation?”
A shrug. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Not really.” The demon looks at their surroundings. “And it still seems an awful waste. Sending the humans out here to die.”
“Oh, I don’t think it will come to that. They may yet find something outside the Garden. Look.”
Ahead of them, a shape bursts from the shade of a dune, a small lizard, mottled brown, running for all it's worth to cower in the next shadow. “There’s still life,” says the angel. “Still a chance.”
A thousand years.
Frozen winters.
Drought-filled summers.
A Flood covers the land, and recedes.
Through lands scoured clear of any trace of life walk an angel and a demon, side-by-side.
“Not much of a chance, if our sides keep interfering,” the demon says, watching the brown river rush past between barren banks.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” the angel chides.
A snort. “You’d say the same if it were my side that did this.” Silence, apart from footfalls in the mud. “Well, go on. Tell me it’s all part of the Plan. I can practically hear you thinking it.”
“Well it is. I might not understand it, but it must be.”
“Some Plan. A thousand years of struggle and toil, for what? Just to be destroyed like that.”
“Nonsense.” The angel points overhead at a flitting dove. The first bird either of them has seen since the rains began. “It isn’t over yet. And we can’t know until it’s over.”
Two thousand more years.
Cities rise.
Cities fall.
Sodom.
Thera.
Troy.
They walk together through the empty streets of what had once been the world’s greatest city, past shattered walls and burned out homes and the remains of a wooden horse.
“They’ve learned from you,” the angel says, an edge of bitterness.
“They’ve learned from us,” the demon corrects, but without rancor.
The angel pauses to study the remains of a temple, altar within shattered, blood spattered across the floor from more than sacrificial animals. “Either way, they surpassed their teachers.”
“They did.” In the distance, past once-impregnable gates that will never close again, high-masted ships depart. Not the attackers, returning victorious to kingdoms that have been destroyed in other ways; these are the survivors, in search of a new home. “Do you suppose they’ll do any better the next time?”
“We must hope,” said the angel, looking where white flowers grow through the cracks in the path. “We must always hope.”
Phoenicia.
Persia.
Carthage.
Rome.
Empires grow.
Empires topple.
They walk, tracing the path of an aqueduct, still valiantly carrying water to an empty city, miles away.
“You know, I really thought they had something this time,” sighs the angel, watching the rodents burrow beneath the monumental stones.
The demon tosses his head, looking at the endless span of arch on arch, crossing a continent. “They did.”
“Next time,” the angel says, with confidence he doesn’t feel. “Next time they’ll get it right.”
“They will. For a time.”
“Oh, there is no need for you to be…pessimistic,” the angel snaps.
“It’s not pessimism, it’s – oh, never mind.” The demon saunters a little faster. “I think I see a village up ahead. Probably have something to drink there.”
Wars rage, brought by raiders or kings or desperate humans.
Famine crawls from town to town, spurred on by locusts, by ice storms, by greed.
Pestilence crosses the world again and again.
Death. Death. Death.
An angel kneels in the street, holding a human’s hand. The human isn’t moving.
A demon materializes from the shadows behind him. “Give it a rest. You can’t do anything for him now.”
“I know.” He stands up. “But I had to try.”
All around them, the city stands silent. Not empty. Humans locked in their homes, afraid to go out, afraid to be too close, afraid the plague may catch them, too.
“He should have fled,” the angel says sadly. “Left the city while he still had a chance.”
“Not everyone can run,” the demon points out.
“I know.” After a time, he walks again, the demon beside him. Past empty fountains, abandoned marketplaces, homes boarded shut. “The city has changed so much. Do you remember that lovely restaurant we used to visit?”
“Burned down. Almost a thousand years ago.” The demon shrugs. “Vandals. Or Goths, maybe.”
“Ah. Pity.”
From a nearby alley, the stench of death. The demon tries to look away, only to find himself meeting the angel’s eyes.
“You won’t find anyone in there.”
“I know. But I have to try.”
The demon sighs, but follows him in. “I hate this century.”
“You always say that, dear.”
New continents.
New art styles.
New wars.
New technologies.
Until one afternoon the world ends – and is made anew.
And only one small group of humans will ever know – and an angel and a demon, stepping off a bus together at three in the morning. The city isn’t empty, merely asleep.
Not ready to go inside just yet, they walk around the block, listening to foxes rummage through rubbish bins, watching lights flick on, here and there, where another insomniac has risen from bed.
“What do you suppose comes next?” the angel wonders, when the silence becomes too much. “For the humans.”
“Dunno.” The demon tosses his head, hands stuck in his pockets. “More of the same, I would guess. Life, death, love, hate, good, bad. Human stuff.”
“But something has to change,” the angel insists. “The world nearly ended for…for Heaven’s sake,” he finishes, voice full of irony. “But if it was the Plan, it must mean something. What’s it all leading to?”
“We might find out. Depends what comes next. For us.”
“Ah.” The angel slows. Stops. “Do you…do you suppose they’re very angry?”
The demon turns to face him with a snort. “What do you think?”
“I think…I think…” His hands straighten his waistcoat, smooth his tie. “I think that whatever comes next, however much time we have…I should like to carry on as we always have.” His tone is light, his eyes searching.
A slow nod. “Yeah.” The demon reaches out, gently squeezes the angel’s shoulder. “Yeah. Me too.”
When they start walking again it is, as always, side-by-side.
“And, you know, I would like to see how it all turns out.”
“You and me both, Angel.”
More time passes.
The world grows old. Ancient.
Another war. The Really Big One. Bigger than any seen on Earth or in Heaven.
Everybody fights.
Everybody loses.
When it is over – when all things are over – there is nothing left.
No world, no Paradise, no eternal torment. No Hosts of Heaven, no Legions of Hell.
No humans, no Satan, no God.
Just an endless, eternal expanse of nothing and, somewhere in the featureless plane, an angel in white, kneeling, alone.
Slowly, the darkness around him resolves into another shape. The demon steps forward, fighting back a smile. “There you are. You survived.” As if he hasn’t been frantically searching. “Thought as much. You’re very hard to kill.”
The angel doesn’t respond.
“It sure was a mess, though, wasn’t it?” The demon shakes his head ruefully. “Should have expected it, really, but right at the end when –”
“I was wrong.” The angel hasn’t moved, eyes still locked on the endless Nothing. “Thousands of years, millions of sunrises, and for what? There was never any point.”
“No, Angel.” The demon kneels beside him, rests a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, yeah, you were wrong. Because the ending was never the point. It was the journey – all those millions of days, filled with love and hate and smiling children and fighting with friends and favorite foods and annoying songs and struggles and choices and…and life. Everything they never would have had if they’d stayed in the Garden. That was the point. That was always the point.”
“Perhaps,” the angel tries to smile. “It was lovely, wasn’t it? While it lasted?”
“Yeah. It really was.” The demon helps him to his feet. “And, you know, it’s not completely gone.”
He waves a hand, long fingers trailing through the void as they had at the beginning of time, helping to shape the stars. He gathers together every atom, every wisp of matter, closer, closer, into a ball. The angel presses his hands into it, and together they compress it, tighter, denser, until –
A spark. From neither. From both.
BANG.
The void fills once more.
With chaos.
With potential.
With light.
The demon looks around, nodding with approval. “What do you think, Angel? Time for another walk?”
He gazes out at the disks of galaxies forming in the expanding cloud of debris. “Do you…do you think things will be different this time?”
A shrug. “Only one way to find out.”
Through the glowing crucible of a newborn universe walk an angel and a demon, side-by-side.
#good omens fanfiction#aziraphale and crowley#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable partners#arowaychallenge2020#aromantic good omens#aziraphale & crowley#walking through history#ancient rome#fall of rome#angst#melancholy#oops its sad#optimism#pessimism#hope#the weird times we live in#CW: mortality#cw: reflections on life and death and meaning#hopeful ending#My writing#ao3#ao3 link#thank you readers#tumblr milestone#milestone#I love my readers
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Fire Hazard
As y’all could apparently tell, a certain fic author has inspired me to write some gay. So here’s some fluffy gay.
Original fic for @fictober-event.
Prompt 19: “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”
Rating: T+
Title: Fire Hazard
Warnings: Alcohol mentions, light harassment
AO3 mirror here.
Sophie moved like a skillful calligrapher’s brush, leaving behind deliberate, knowing strokes with every footstep. When she got close enough, the scent of freshly brewed lattes drifted through the air, and when the sun was shining, you could see pretty auburn dots run along the nape of her neck. Even her dorky glasses paired absurdly well with the gently cresting waves of her umber hair.
Sophie was beauty. Sophie was grace.
And Sophie was irritatingly straight.
“Why don’t you take a picture, paintcan? It’d last longer,” she smirked, shimmying into her usual chair.
Cait glared and stuck her tongue out. “Tough luck. I’m stuck with you until the lease runs out. And… I was staring at your shirt. You have a rough night?”
Sophie tilted her head to the side and absentmindedly ran two slender fingers over one of the holes in her shirt, revealing just a little more of her smooth, pale skin. “Hmm, I seem to recall you having a rough night yourself a while back. Or, more accurately, waking up next to one.”
“She was a mistake. A drunken, mistake, you overpaid coffee machine, and that was three months ago.” Cait avoided her roommate’s gaze by lifting her mug of scalding tea to her face. HOT HOT HOT. Keep it together.
Sophie giggled, a sound so bright it could make the sun wear sunglasses. “Well. It’s costume day at the cafe! Isn’t that exciting?”
“You going as ‘laundry night’? You’re gonna be freezing your butt off.”
“Think more ‘drop-dead gorgeous werewolf,’” Sophie shot back, a hint of honey in her voice. A few keys jingled, and suddenly she was waltzing her way to the front door. “I’ll post the finished look on Insta, ‘kay? Look forward to it! And I’ll get tonight’s groceries. Just grab a good lunch, sleepyhead!”
And just like that, the scent of lattes disappeared, and the sky was downcast again.
See? Irritating.
Cait let out a beleaguered sigh and sank down in her chair. “Sleepyhead” was a new one. And with every new one came a new emotion she didn’t know she could have, and certainly not one she knew how to deal with.
She didn’t sign up for this. Not at first, at least. Despite their constant bickering, the two had been good friends since high school. When they managed to get into the same university, they decided to move in together. Sophie was kind of a mess back then, and she had terrible taste in men. So moving in was for her own good. Yep. That was it. Cait could think of no other reason.
Until Sophie became less of a mess. She started to go through boyfriends slower than one a month, thank god, until the number finally dwindled down to zero. Then came her brushstroke movements and the way she would gently lift that lucky soup spoon to her lips. She started to do heart-melting little gestures, leaving fresh plates of cookies on the countertop, placing little sticky notes on the fridge to wish her roommate a good day. And then she landed that new job at the cafe. Cait was always weak for a good latte. She never stood a chance, really.
It had been almost two years since then, two tantalizing years. “Never get with your roommate,” her friends had cautioned her. “It never ends well.” That, plus the fact that Sophie had loudly proclaimed her love for men after a drunken night or two of revelry. Ah, how love can fizzle out as quickly as it sparks. Really, Cait never stood a chance.
“So can my dumbass heart stop for just one second!!” she yelped, leaping up in her chair. She couldn’t think straight with her roommate around, damnit! How inconsiderate. How irritating. She had commissions to finish, and a strongly worded letter to send to her professor, and that 200k slowburn wasn’t going to read itself.
That last one sounded good right now. Drawing could wait. Cait slapped her mug into the sink and trundled her way over to her laptop.
A few tear-jerking hours later, she felt her phone buzz on the tabletop. She took a glance. The barista of her dreams had just shared a post on Insta.
Cait had never unlocked the screen faster.
Sophie always looked cute in her uniform. But today, she was positively heavenly. Her apron caressed the generous curves of her torn shirt, giving the slightest peeks to a sight that could make anyone’s stomach churn. Her black stockings stretched over her short but heinously delicate legs, ending inside her fuzzy brown boots. She was holding a drink and biting the straw with a vengeance while wearing a playful expression on her face that really did not help Cait’s problem. Actually, the adorable creature was even baring a set of fake fangs, which really, really did not help the problem. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and a soft wolf-ear headband sat atop her head. And she was winking, her long lashes practically kissing the lenses of her big round glasses, showing off a hint of her brownish-red eyeshadow that unfortunately drew the line of sight directly to those irritatingly honeyed irises.
She was probably violating a few dress codes. She was a fire hazard. A horribly dangerous fire hazard in Cait’s heart.
Another notification broke the silence. This time, it was a DM.
Soupie: Paintcan!!
Soupie: New look uploaded!!! ;>
Soupie: Pretty fired up today.
Kitcait: Oh. Didn’t notice
Soupie: Well, NOTICE!!!
Kitcait: Still wearing that shirt in the freezing cold I see
Kitcait: Blogger to the core
Soupie: ...
Soupie: If you didn’t like the look, you can just say so.
Kitcait: No!! No. I actually think it’s really cute. Really. I don’t think anyone else could pull it off as well. Cute and seasonal. Nice ears lmao
Soupie: I--
Soupie: Thanks.
A moment passed.
Soupie: Suspicious thanks, but thanks, Cait.
Kitcait: Ye
Soupie: How’s your lunch going? You eating well, you vampire?
Cait snorted and sent Sophie a quick selfie with her half-eaten cup of instant noodles.
Kitcait: Meal of champions
Soupie: HEY!!!
Soupie: You’re gonna pass out from malnutrition some day!
Soupie: We’re going to have a decent dinner and I will cook the whole thing and feed it to you by hand if I have to.
Kitcait: Looking forward to biting your hand
Soupie: Worth it. Break’s over gotta go see you in 4
Ahhh,
Oh, jeez.
That adorable, kindhearted, devastating idiot.
How was she supposed to concentrate on anything now?
“Deep breaths, dumbass,” said Cait, clutching her comically pounding chest.
It was a bright, crisp autumn day outside. Some fresh air couldn’t hurt. A quick stroll might help. Maybe she could go get those groceries instead. But she would have to meet Sophie as she got out from work. You know, so they didn’t accidentally double up on expensive produce. Yeah, that’s why. Not because the short, peppy woman happened to be Aphrodite in an apron.
Cait stood up tugged on her overcoat. She paused as she saw the enormous orange blanket scarf that hung by the door, a relic from the previous tenants of their apartment.
Well. Just in case, yeah?
Cait lifted the fabric and hung it on her arm, and she was out the door as well.
Her arms were starting to get sore from lugging around two full bags of food, but luckily for her, she had the gift of long legs and a quick gait. And she was already getting close to the cafe. It would be all worth it if she could just see--
Sophie, standing right outside her workplace, in all of her ‘drop-dead gorgeous werewolf’ glory. The bottom of her shirt was tied in a little knot now, lifting above her midriff and her long plaid circle skirt. Cait tried her very, very best not to get lost in the sight of the most dazzling roommate in the world.
A roommate who, to her immediate dismay, was chatting with a local frat boy.
“Jerry, I’m too tired for this, I really have to get home--”
“Come on! Hey, you look great today.” His voice rumbled up and down the street like a revving engine, attracting more than a little attention from passers-by.
“I really have to--”
“Just one drink? I’m buyin’! We can go get the good stuff!” The wild gorilla-man gesticulated a little too enthusiastically. Enough was enough.
“Sophie!” Cait stepped forward and ruffled the barista’s hair. “Funny I should see you here.”
“Hey!” Jerry’s tone soured. “I saw you at that party. You’re that dy--”
“Six-foot-tall, MMA-certified lesbian,” snapped Cait, “who would love an excuse to smack your scrawny ass into the leaves. Or, you know. To call the cops.”
The man scoffed and thankfully began to trundle away. “You’re no fun anyway.”
Cait let out a shaky sigh. It really wasn’t like her to pick a fight, but hell if she didn’t look at least a little bit cool in the heat of the moment.
She turned back towards Sophie.
“Hey. Are you hurt?”
Her roommate shook her head and stepped a little closer, holding the sides of her arms. “I’m okay. I don’t think he was going to do anything, he’s just kinda pushy, but...” Sophie looked up with soft eyes. “Thanks. Cait.”
Suddenly, fireworks.
So irritating!
“Anyway, MMA? Really?”
Cait chuckled, thankful for the change of topic. “I did taekwondo as a kid. Same difference.”
Her roommate let out a heart-stopping giggle, and they started walking back home. Somehow, up close and in person, she was a couple thousand times cuter. And suddenly the sidewalk became an object of close scrutiny.
“Achoo!”
Cait quickly glanced back over and let out an involuntary snort. Sophie was shivering in her scandalously frayed top, her nose and cheeks growing pink.
“Come on, wolfie, let’s sit down somewhere.”
As they made their way to a park bench, the taller girl slipped off her overcoat and draped it around Sophie, who let out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a breath of appreciation.
“Told you you’d get cold,” said Cait in a hushed tone, tucking the scarf around her friends’ neck.
Sophie scrunched up her face in a way that made the lesbian say a quick internal prayer of thanks that the two could exist at the very same point in time, just centimeters apart in this cold, cruel world.
“Yes, I admit it, you were right.”
Ugh.
Even her pout was perfect.
Then she flipped around and pressed up against Cait, filling her mind with nothing but coffee grounds and confetti. Sophie’s hair was on fire in the golden-hour glow as she leaned her head against her roommate’s chest. A couple stray threads tickled Cait’s jaw and positively set her cheeks ablaze as well.
“You know,” Sophie said with a playful sigh, “you’d be pretty good boyfriend material.”
Cait gave a slightly bitter scoff. “What about girlfriend material?”
They said nothing for just a moment too long.
The world passed by a mile a minute around them, and the feisty barista was uncharacteristically silent.
Suspiciously silent.
Sophie buried her face in that annoyingly orange scarf.
Cait fought back her heart as it threatened to leap up to her throat. She’d felt this before. But something was different this time. Oh gods, maybe, just maybe, something was different this time.
“Soph,” she whispered softly, her voice breaking with every heartbeat. “Can… can I see your face right now?”
The shorter girl disobediently turned the other way.
But Cait leaned forward, reaching out, and suddenly she was slowly easing her pouting crush’s head to face her own and gently prying the warm, soft scarf back downwards. It revealed a constellation of vivid freckles set aglow. And Sophie’s face was the most beautiful shade of red in the world, even redder than Cait had imagined in her wildest dreams.
“Holy cow,” Cait exhaled.
And for a single, heart-stopping moment, all the two could do was stare.
Until all of a sudden, fingertips were combing through umber hair, and slender hands were clinging on to the others’ back, and lips were meeting each other in near-painful desperation.
Sweet, soft, tender paradise for just a few seconds.
“I thought--”
“Cait. Hush,” whispered Sophie, looking directly into her roommate’s eyes this time.
And they both obliged and came together once more, a whirlwind of emotions kicking up in Cait’s heart that managed to settle on something warm and almost tearful. The kiss was gentler the second time around, a little kinder, and just a little harder to pull away again.
Then they both sat back into the bench, wide-eyed, looking off into the treetops.
“Weren’t you straight?” blurted Cait.
“Back then? I said I liked guys, you disaster, not that I exclusively liked guys.” Sophie seemed to be fighting back an enormous smile, cheeks still holding their brilliant rosy tint. “Plus, you didn’t hear what I mumbled after that. That I was maybe starting to think about girls. Well. Girl. To be accurate.” She continued, voice trailing off.
“Oh,” was all said girl could manage, as she felt soft arms wrapping gingerly around her.
For a beautiful moment, Sophie was all there ever was.
“You know,” the barista giggled mischievously into her roommate’s ear, “I can maybe. Think of some other nicknames I’d like to call you now.”
And Cait was on fire again.
“How about we make dinner first?”
#fictober19#fic#alcohol mention#cw alcohol#cw harrassment#and they were roommates#oh my god they were roommates#maybe the real roommates were the gays we met along the way
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Writing Meme
A big thanks to the ever-angelic @southsidestory for tagging me! 🥰
Author name: flowerslut
Fandoms you write for: currently Twilight, Naruto was a big one for a few years. (I’ve written for a handful of various fandoms in the past though.)
Where you post: Most of my one-shots are actually posted strictly to Tumblr, but my multi-chaptered stories (and a few shorter stories) are either on AO3 or FF.net. I used to default to FF.net but as of late I’ve been preferring AO3.
Most popular one-shot: On FF.net Naruto fanfic Himawari’s Whiskers has the most reviews (34) and Because I Love You has the most favorites (214). On Tumblr, Himawari’s Whisker’s comes in a close first again (1497 notes) against this problematic ItaSasu one-shot (1177 notes—but that’s probably entirely due to @surfacage‘s subsequent art if we’re being honest here.) As for AO3, (and really, overall) Miraculous Ladybug one-shot AWOL sweeps the competition with my highest comments, kudos, bookmarks, AND hit counts for any of my one shots across any website.
Most popular multi-chapter story: On FF.net, my 200k+ word SasuSaku adventure fic, Changing Skies, steals the show with 939 reviews, over 1200 favorites, and a mind-blowing half-million hits. On AO3, unfinished + abandoned ML angst-fest fic Pockets Full of Stones has my highest kudos/hit count for a multi-chaptered story (373/22,296). (For reference, my latest Twilight 250k word monster, despite boasting my highest comment count (289) has less than 3000 hits.)
Favorite story you’ve written: I know I’m already partial to my Twilight stories currently since that’s my current ‘fandom focus’, but something about the fact that Call of the Night took me over a decade to flesh out and finish will always make me feel really, really proud of myself. And I know teenage Shannon would have been ecstatic to see that once-abandoned story’s fate.
Story you were nervous to post: In honor of the trailer for the new Star Wars coming out tonight, I’ll have to say it was definitely that-only-and-only-Reylo one-shot I wrote for someone back in the day. That story was a short as shit prompt—and sadly, no matter how much I search through my tags and blog, I can’t seem to find it—but listen. I’ve been around Tumblr for over a decade. I’ve seen some shit. I’ve seen ships get shit on. But nothing like I’ve seen Reylo fans deal with (and I was a SasuSaku stan for years). That’s the only story I’ve ever held my breath for as I posted it. And there was nothing even remotely romantic about it. But tagging #reylo made me nervous as SHIT lmao.
How do you choose your titles: I used to frankenstein song lyrics together until it sounded poetic, but now I just try to come up with something more organic and in-theme with the actual story.
Do you outline: Only for multi-chaptered fics that I KNOW are either going to be over 100k words or that will be part of a multi-fic series.
Complete: Because I have too many unaccounted-for prompts and one-shots posted to Tumblr and other various internet boards over the years I don’t have an exact number for you. In between Tumblr, AO3, and FF.net, it’s definitely over 100, and maybe just under 150. One day I’ll archive them all and count them (I did just download Scrivener, finally) but for now, I only have guesstimations for you.
In-progress: Thankfully all of my in-progress multi-chaptered fan fictions have been posted to both AO3 and FF.net. In between both of them I only have 6, but I’m not really a “start one story and then get distracted after three-thousand words of it” type of person. I’m more like a “thoroughly outline a 100k+ thousand word story while manic and then when the mania fades one or three months later forget about it and get distracted and maybe come back to it in a year or four” type person. I’m trying to get in the habit of finishing stories before I start posting them, but it’s uh, not going too well.
Coming soon/not yet started: Call of the Night’s sequel has been started and I do have other fics brewing in my mind—all of them are old fics (anywhere between 12 and 5 years old)—but right now, a sister is sadly far too busy to write.
Do you accept prompts: I’m always accepting prompts! It’s whether or not I could get around to writing them that really just depends on the timing in my life. For instance, if someone sent me a good prompt tonight, I absolutely wouldn't be able to write it for at least a few weeks, but I’d keep it bookmarked and try to get to it ASAP.
Upcoming story you are most excited to write: CotN’s sequel has me really excited, and despite the fact that I haven’t updated Never Count the Stars in almost four years, every time I read the outline for the fic I get invigorated to one day finish it. A couple of stories I would like to write is my Twilight AH AU Jalice story (that I outlined back in high school) and my gritty Naruto borderline-problematic modern-AU (that I outlined back in 2013.) I’d love to have the time and inspiration to write anything currently, but until I’m done moving and settled in California, a girl ain’t got time to write SHIT.
Since I don’t read much fan fiction nowadays I don’t really know who to tag except for @volturialice and @gashousegables !!!
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Camp NaNoWriMo Day 27
Wheeeee almost to 27k out of our 30k goal for the month! And in related news, last night I realized The Loving Seal’s total word count is almost to 100k! Very exciting :D Seals isn’t looking like it’ll be one of my 200k+ monsters, but it’s fun to see even when I aim for a shorter book I still can’t really...help myself. XD Ah well. These are NaNo words. They’ll cut down eventually.
I hope you all loaded up nice and good on the cute sweet bits I’ve shared the last few days because I have something different today. ;3
“Who’s the gentleman over there beside the wagon? Gray hair, very thin?” I asked, making Tiffany blink and turn to look. As her eyes passed him the old man looked even more nervous than before and ceased his staring, but not before giving me one final distressed look. Strange.
“Camden? Oh, I suppose you’ve never really had reason to meet the town tanner. He’s a curious fellow, I’ll give him that. Jumpy. I suppose it comes with age. A shame really. Usually he’s rather sweet though. Not sure what’s gotten into him today. Do you see that face he’s making? Ghastly,” she replied before shrugging and gazing out at the water to continue on with something about how lovely the boat would look on such a calm day.
I wasn’t listening anymore. Camden had moved as she’d spoken, looking prepared to approach, but halted with quite the ghastly expression indeed. As I watched he kept tossing me timid glances, only to vanish around the cart and not return.
#writing#nanowrimo#camp nanowrimo#rai writes camp nanowrimo#The Loving Seal#whatcha doing over there camden?? hmmm? come say hi to nivvie. whatcha nervous about camdennn#also golly gee tiffany you like to talk my girl. is that because i need word count or is it just you?? we shall see in time
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ESC: Lover’s Knot
ESC is a series of drabbles and ficlets that were really more like writing exercises created when inspiration struck. They’re labeled ESC because usually, they’re choices that I’d like to explore but immediately hit ‘Esc’ in-game before they’re set in stone. I also like to do little rabbit holes of character development for the Canon Storylines. To celebrate my 250th follower milestone... HAVE SOME AWKWARD CATS!
Feel free to reblog and let me know what you think! (Reading the tags fuels me. FEED THE AUTHOR!)
This fic is dedicated to @cinlat @kunoichi-ume and @sunsetofdoom for their beta-ing and world-building assistance.
Trooper Storyline Chapter 2 (Threats in the Darkness)
Setting: Immediately after the destruction of the Gauntlet. Elara Dorne was injured in the attack and has been transported to a Republic Hospital for her recovery, everyone else is off celebrating.
Location: Coruscant
Players: Sartem Roan (Cathar F!Republic Trooper), Aric Jorgan, Jonas Balkar
Relationship: They’re just friends, but mainly because Aric is so terrible at making the next move. It also doesn’t help that Sartem knows exactly ZERO about Cathar traditions.
Aric Jorgan hated Jonas Balkar.
He hated how the man’s cloying words seemed to reach out and taint the world around him twisting and taunting him to the point where JORGAN was the one who sounded unbalanced. He hated the familiarity and lack of respect the man showed whenever he addressed him. He hated the too-confident-for-his-own-good swagger in which he walked up to General Garza and simply acted as though rank didn’t affect him.
But most of all, he hated how the damn Spook’s flirting made his CO smile.
“Relax Jorgan, its banter. And besides, there’s no need to worry, you’ll get invited to the wedding. I’ll make you my best man,” Balkar teased and Jorgan answered with a feral snarl bordering on a roar that caused every patron in the cantina to flinch.
“Girls, girls, calm down, you’re both pretty,” Sartem said arriving just in time to save Balkar’s hide yet again.
“We’re supposed to be celebrating, Jorgan. It’s not every day we take down a superweapon,” the SIS agent grinned impishly.
“HAVOC took down the Gauntlet.”
“And I helped!” Jonas piped up undeterred by the obvious hostilities.
“Regardless, we all deserve a break,” Sartem interjected before taking a seat between the two.
“I was wondering if you’d stood us up! Congratulations, Major,” Jonas motioned to the bartender and the droid arrived with a bottle of chilled white wine.
“Coruscanti White, twenty years old, courtesy of an inattentive Senator who left their yacht docked at the Star Cluster Casino,” he winked as he unstoppered the bottle with a satisfying pop and poured Sartem a glass.
“Pre-sacking wine? Now that’s a treat,” she mused appreciatively. “I’m surprised you didn’t sell it instead. Bottle like this would easily get you at least 200k.”
“I’d never take less than half a mill,” Jonas scoffed, “but despite what you may have heard Major, my days of hocking pre-sacked finds are far behind me.”
“Mmm. This mean you don’t want the empty bottle back?” she asked as she tasted the pleasantly tang wine.
“Well… it would be a shame for such a pretty, easily refillable bottle to just end up tossed in the garbage disposal. Wouldn’t it?”
“Of course. And should said refilled bottle find itself back on the market...” Sartem smirked all too familiar with the typical Capital City con.
“Well then that’s just upcycling,” Balkar winked cheekily earning a bright laugh. Aric’s piercing green eyes narrowed but he remained quiet. He reminded himself he promised to be nice all the while nursing a tumbler of cheap local whiskey.
“Jorgan, care for a glass?”
“That’s a hard pass...” the Cathar growled.
“Oh come on, Aric, it’s not all that terrible,” Sartem said taking a sip.
“Ah don’t mind him. Can’t expect someone who spent half their life on some backwater like Ord Mantell to appreciate a good Coruscanti. I’m thinking beer, or whatever local moonshine is more up to his speed, eh? Hey droid, another shot of whatever paint stripper my buddy here is drinking!”
Jorgan’s grip tightened around his glass and he gritted his teeth to keep from slugging the sleazy grin off of the agent’s face. He was right, of course, even for a Cathar he was too blunt and awkward for polite society. Back home on Rendili it hadn't mattered and on Ord Mantell the most delicate thing he’d ever had to handle was the pin of a flash grenade. Growing up, his sisters had mocked his lack of finesse by implying the woman who mated him would have to be part-Rancor.
His brow furrowed as he stared at his drink.
Sartem was no Rancor.
But Sartem was no Cathar woman either. She was something else entirely. She was a charming woman from Coruscant who knew her way around a rifle and a diplomatic councilroom. She oozed charisma when she needed to, and at the same time, refused to betray her principles in the name of politics. She was clever, she was fair, she was brave, and gentle and kind…
“Balkar! You rat!”
She was laughing with the idiot whose only intent was to bed her. Aric scowled as he wished for the same ease of words Balkar had. Granted, he wasn’t an idiot, but having a brain filled to capacity with military strategy and tactics did little for his ability to wax poetic. Unlike the Spook, his strength was in actions not words.
Sartem chuckled and plucked off her gloves a finger at a time. It was rare for her to walk around without them, something he chalked up to minimizing callouses. Yet as she flexed her fingers he noted a wrongness to them. His brow furrowed as he absently grabbed her wrist and turned the full force of his glare on them. Her fingertips were wrong, modified. Her claws were dull. No, not dull, flat, almost human in appearance. And then it clicked. They had been removed and replaced with blunted, artificial caps. Someone had torn out her claws. Rage was the first thing to register followed by the intense desire to eviscerate the person responsible.
“Er… Aric?” her voice cut through the anger.
Vivid green eyes blinked and his throat went dry only then registering that he had been staring. He instantly released her wrist.
“Your claws… they’re,” he stammered for a polite way to say mutilated.
“Hm? Oh! Yeah. I had a habit of scratching up things as a kid. It was harmless, but as I got older it became a problem.”
Jonas cleared his throat before taking her hand in hers. “A shame, but it doesn’t detract from your loveliness...”
Aric felt ill. ‘It became a problem’ so they took care of it. Like an errant pet that ruined the furniture. They, no, not some anonymous face, the Republic decided to take it away. With no one to stand in their way, they took away her only means of defense. What did an old Twi’lek know about Cathar pride or heritage? What did any outsider care or understand about a kit’s behavior and the blatantly obvious signs of distress? It was easier to remove the source of irritation rather than mend the problem. What did they expect her to do? Cry like some bleating ape! It was easier to break off, and rend, and tear than to just…
Perhaps if Sartem was weaker, she would have cried for them. If they had broken her she would have sobbed. Maybe that would have pleased them.
How were such procedures still legal?!
Sartem was looking at him, as though gauging what had gone wrong. It happened more times than he cared to count. She took all of her cultural cues from him because- He gritted his teeth.
Because they took everything from her.
“Nothing’s the matter, right? Aric?”
Green eyes flickered to Balkar who was quite blatantly expecting him to say something. Expecting him to wave it all away as though it were normal to cut off pieces that were inconvenient. Such a narrow-minded, oblivious, humanistic point of view to have. Bile threatened to rise in his throat but he swallowed it down with the contents of his glass before standing to leave.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Thanks for the drink,” he managed to keep his voice below a sneer before he ran away.
No. Not ran away. Tactically retreated. She was looking at her hands before reaching for her gloves. He’d made her feel self-conscious and he cursed himself for it.
Balkar was prattling on about some sordid adventure on Nar Shaddaa before he’d reached the exit and he trusted the man would soon distract her from the scene he had caused.
Aric took the long way back to the ship but the anger refused to dissipate. The ship was empty, save for the protocol droid, allowing him to storm to his bunk without being intercepted. The restless energy bubbled inside him and he gave a loud snarl before taking out his anger on a practice dummy Dorne had set up.
At times he resented her ignorance. He resented the fact that, despite her appearance, she was something so uniquely non-Cathar. She had more in common with Balkar than with him, but resentment was a selfish emotion. If he cared to delve into it, he simply detested having to explain the galaxy’s prejudices to her. He didn’t want to look into Sartem’s large blue eyes and explain how the Republic had failed her. Again. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in them when he explained that the same people who deserted her would reject her. He didn’t want her to know how so many would judge her for what was taken. He didn’t want to explain why some would think less of her; treat her as less. The scorn, the humiliation… he wanted to keep it from her all the while he knowing it would have to come from him. Another Cathar wouldn’t be bothered with her and would certainly be less understanding, less forgiving, and simply less kind about it.
A well placed slash broke the stand and it toppled over crashing onto a crate. He stood panting as his own claws lay trapped in his gauntlets preventing him from causing any real damage. He tore off the gauntlets and threw them aside as though disgusted by them. The rage had faded away leaving him with regret.
Sartem deserved better.
Instead, she was stuck with him, and he’d left her alone with Balkar.
He slouched into his bunk sorely wishing he’d drunk more than just a tumbler of whiskey in order to drown out his feelings of defeat. Idly he pulled out a velvet pouch tucked away in his pillowcase. He tipped it onto his hand and a piece of opalized wood rolled out. It was another failure materialized.
As custom dictated he’d picked out his stone when he came of age. The chocolate brown fossilized wood was riddled with cracks and seams of glittering opal filled the gaps. His sisters had hidden their smiles when he showed them. Opalized wood was too brittle, too soft. Once polished, it would scratch at the slightest graze of a claw. Others had chosen more sensibly. Garnets, amethysts, quartz crystals, and citrines were durable. These could be cut into sparkling gems that caught the light and burned with cold fire. Agates and jaspers were equally tough and easily fashioned into intricate carved cameos. These displayed skill and tenacity, but an opal? They were soft as sand, infinitely finicky to fit, and required a lifetime of maintenance. He could have done no worse if he’d just picked out a river pearl and declared himself a eunuch.
His father had provided little comfort other than to keep his opinion to himself. His mother had been more charitable, stating whoever Aric chose would find the stone perfect. Yet another foolish thought. Cathar men didn’t choose, they were chosen, though the gods knew he’d tried.
Naadia was his first, novice attempt at love. For a while, she encouraged his advances. She was calm and level-headed. He’d thought they made a good match. She took his gruffness with good humor and he entertained the thought of something more. Just as soon as he’d worked up the nerve to make his move, another rival with ‘better people skills’ began lavishing her with attention. Open displays of affection had never been his forte and never would be. She made up her mind rather quickly after that.
Sisa was lovely. It was one of the few times he’d fallen for someone at first glance, well him and several others. When he approached her, she demanded to see a sample of his handiwork, but his clumsy attempts at jewelry weaving left much to be desired. He could break down and reassemble his rifle blindfolded and upside down with an arm tied behind his back, but the infinitely delicate strands of wiring ended up tangled and bent by his fingertips. After weeks of crafting he presented her with a lover’s knot. His best attempt out of the eighty. Despite it all, she took the poor craftsmanship as an insult and refused him. He couldn’t bring himself to blame her.
And then there was Tae-Lyn…
His fingers curled around the stone.
For a long time he had thought her to be his last chance; the last train leaving the station. His love for her hadn’t been borne out naive foolishness like Naadia or fleeting passion like Sisa. Tae-Lyn was special. She was that rare mixture of woman that was both impulsive and patient, she was also notoriously difficult to please. Most Cathar were mated at her age… well, their age. Their courtship had been discreet and surprisingly intimate. Tae-Lyn was the only one to be offered his stone, but by that time Jorgan’s career kept monopolizing his attention. Serving with the Deadeyes meant more and more of their interactions were via holo. Still, he remained faithful to her promising he would take a promotion as soon as it became available; promising that he would make it all up to her if she could only wait. Wait another year, wait another season, wait another month... When a post opened up on Ord Mantell he took it. Despite it all, Aric never got the chance to tell her. The next day after his promotion was made official, he received a package containing his opal and a note he only half-read.
Aric didn’t need her excuses or apologies to confirm what he already knew: He’d made her wait too long.
And yet, rather than toss away the stone and be done with it, he’d kept it. For all his grandstanding about not being interested in such frivolous things, he’d never gone through with throwing away the damned thing. His fingers gripped the smooth polished stone tightly.
What was he hoping for anyway? If he was being honest with himself, what did he have to offer?
A lifetime of single-minded dedication to the republic military had left him bereft of anything that would appeal to a potential mate. He had no home or land to call his own, no social status, no real connections within the clan. He supposed there was his pension, but those were funds intended for the final stretch of his lifetime, not the beginnings of a family.
And still, staring at his reflection upon the glass smooth surface of the opal, Aric knew Sartem wouldn’t care about those things. The way she smiled, how she looked at him, she wouldn’t care if all he had was the armor on his back. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been so quick to abandon her side she would have chosen to spend the night with him instead of that smug idiot.
He stood and walked up to his tool box shuffling the contents a bit before pulling out a spool of magnet wire from his detonator kit. Aric then sat at his workbench, painstakingly, stripping the thin coating of varnish from the wire until the bright copper core was exposed. He hesitated as he stared at the spindly metal strand as though it were mocking him, before setting the stone down and measuring it. His fingers were as clumsy as he recalled. His claws snagged on the soft metal nicking and bending it in unflattering angles.
Aric growled in frustration and dropped the piece before leaning back and running his hand over his face. He took a deep breath before staring at the ceiling. How many years had it been? And he was still blindly stumbling through this. His skill was no better than it had been with Naadia. A lover’s knot was meant to be unique; a representation of everything a male adored about his mate. No two were ever alike.
Emerald green eyes blinked as the thought clicked into place.
Sartem wasn’t Naadia. She wasn’t Sisa. She wasn’t Tae-Lyn.
He sat up and tossed the mangled scrap of wire aside before cutting a new length. Bringing out his detonator kit he turned the wire into coils and the coils into knots. He worked efficiently, forgoing the traditional twists and weaving patterns and instead building the piece like he would a detonite charge circuit. At long last finding his rhythm, he spun the lattice around the opal until it was snugly encased into a pendant. He paused to analyze his workmanship and realized it looked nothing like an engagement piece was supposed to look like. It was too plain to be a proper Cathar gift, but he noted there were no dents or scratches on the wire. The coiling was deceptively simple in appearance, but Sartem would recognize the intricate configurations mimicking the circuitry diagrams in the detonation handbook. She would appreciate the sort of skill it would take to make the stable loops and connections out of a single piece of wiring. She would know that it would take decades of practice to make the curls uniform and the bonded connections invisible to the naked eye. It was perhaps the best work he had ever done.
There was a hiss as the ship’s door opened and Cee-Too gave a cheerful greeting. He stashed the stone in his pocket and reached for his rifle before masterfully dismantling upon the table so it appeared as though he were in the middle of repairs. He knew it was her from the sound of her footsteps and he kept his gaze focused on the table. If he was lucky perhaps she would ignore him and go straight to her quarters.
“You know, one of these days I’ll get you to actually have some fun, Jorgan,” her voice echoed through the barracks and he detected a subsonic purr that meant she wasn’t upset with him. He ventured a glance and saw she was leaning against the doorway smirking.
“Can’t say I’m familiar with the concept, sir,” he drawled sarcastically but tensed as she walked up and took a seat next to him on the bench. Her pupils were dilated as she looked at him. The curl of her lip meant she was amused. She smelled faintly of that expensive Corellian wine and blueblossom soap.
The pendant burned a hole in his pocket at the sight of her.
“That wasn’t why you stormed out though, was it?” she asked leaning casually against him and his gaze kept flickering from the table and back to her as though unsure where to keep his gaze.
“I… that was rude. I’m- I’m sorry.”
“Does it bother you that I don’t have claws?” And there was the question. Direct and blunt like a bolt between his eyes. The silence dragged on and he knew she expected an answer.
“The Cathar value strength. It’s everywhere in our culture. Claws and teeth are symbols of a person’s- of a Cathar’s strength.”
“Do you think I’m weak, Aric?”
“No,” he answered without hesitation, “I know you’re not. It’s just... There is the expectation, the notion that a Cathar without claws has suffered a severe humiliation and I-”
“Does it bother you that I don’t have claws?” she repeated with her typical infinite patience.
“How can it not?” he snarled as Sartem pressed the issue, “Every day I see how much they took from you, how they used you, how they hurt you and I can’t protect you from any of it! You should hate them for hurting you, you should hate us for abandoning you, you should hate me...”
He then felt her bare hand rest over his and it stopped his angry tirade. His brow furrowed as he looked down at her fingers smoothing over his fur in a soothing motion.
“It brought me to you, didn’t it?”
He was rendered mute by her words unable to formulate an argument against them. She was touching him, willingly. His pulse raced as she crept closer and snuggled against him. Was this how it felt to be chosen? No arduous struggle; no harrowing attempts to read her mind; they simply existed naturally. He reached out and held her hand before looking into her deep blue eyes and feeling a connection between them.
“Was it worth it, sir?” he rumbled.
“I’ve managed to meet the most interesting people,” she mused, “Dorne, Yuun, Vik...”
“Balkar,” he growled unable to hide how a spike of jealousy coursed through his veins. “Even got a proposal out of him.”
“Do you really think he has a chance,” she countered with a wry grin.
“I didn’t see you turn him down-mph!”
His griping was cut off when she leaned forward and kissed him. The doubt and shadowed thoughts faded away as she slipped into his arms easily. Aric’s heart swelled as her scent and touch filled his senses. It was part male instinct, part lovesick idiocy, but he never wanted it to let go. The kiss ended all too soon but he gave her a dazed smile.
“Does that answer your question?” she asked.
“You… wanna run that by me again?” he asked cheekily.
Sartem gave a soft laugh before rubbing her cheek against his and once again disconnecting his brain. His claws had extended as he fumbled at the clasps of her armor and she… sweet gods was she purring? He groaned as he felt the soft vibrations. She was going to kill him.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would give the pendant an acid dip and give the copper a dark patina. Tomorrow he would wrap it in velvet and place it in a cortosis bit case. Tomorrow he would give her his stone.
Sartem wouldn’t know what it meant to him. She wouldn’t understand how harrowing its rejection could be, but Aric realized it didn’t matter. Customs, belief systems, traditions, they were just a means to categorize emotion. After all what else could he do? It’s not like he could back down now. It was too late. She’d already stolen away his heart.
For all the curious out there, this is what Aric’s opalized wood stone looks like:
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The Truth Untold -- Chapter 22: Please Call My Name One More Time
Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin
Word Count: Fic in progress, 200k so far. 3k-5k per chapter
Chapter Summary:
Namjoon gives him a sad smile and leaves the room, leaving Jungkook to wonder what their leader has up his sleeve. Sometimes it feels like he goes too far to fulfill his role, sticking his neck out for everyone else despite the consequences. Jungkook doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, though. He hears his name mumbled and whips his head to the right. Taehyung’s eyes are blinking fast and focused on him. He expected them to be full of confusion or fear, but all he can see is love. He bursts into tears and grips his hand harder, pressing his forehead to the warming skin.
Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM
Every beep of the hospital machines feels like a hot knife through Jungkook’s heart. Taehyung looks so pale and small tucked into the bed, head wrapped in gauze. Jungkook hasn’t left the side of his bed since they arrived and he’s only stirred now and then, never coming completely to the surface. Their eyes meet each time, but Taehyung’s stay unfocused before they flutter closed again. The doctor has reassured him that he’s going to be fine, he has a concussion and needed two stitches in his head but should be able to go home in the morning. At this point, it’s almost time for the sun to rise. It feels like they’ve been here for days.
Somehow, the doctor’s words really don’t make Jungkook feel better. He knows this entire thing is his fault. If he’d never kissed Taehyung at Home Party, there’d have been nothing to hide and nothing to uncover. He’s known about Taehyung’s history with panic attacks since debut and he should have realized that starting something like this would only make him anxious. He’s been selfish at every turn, but he can’t ever imagine leaving his side. He sees a pen on the nightstand and picks up, drawing a stylized heart on the back of Tae’s hand. The skin is cold to the touch and a tear falls from his face, smudging the ink.
The others filter in one-by-one every so often, taking turns checking in and making sure Jungkook is eating. No one has left the hospital since they arrived. It doesn’t matter that Taehyung will ultimately be okay, they’re going home together or not at all.There’s a soft knock at the door and Namjoon pokes his head in. Jungkook tries his best to give him a smile, but it wavers at the edges.
“How are you holding up, Kook-ah?”
“I just can’t believe I did this to us.”
“What do you mean? You did nothing wrong.”
“If I’d never kissed him. If I’d never gotten us in trouble with Bang. If I’d-”
“No. Jungkook, stop. Dae-Hyun would have been sent to us either way, no one saw that video except Bang. If you’d never taken a chance on Tae, all that would have meant is you would have lost an amazing opportunity and he’d have solely focused on Jimin and Yoongi-hyung.”
“I guess, but I could have kept us from getting back together after the ban was lifted. I could have kept Tae from feeling all this stress. We might’ve been unhappy, but he wouldn’t be constantly gripped with fear.”
“You need to get your shit together. This pity party needs to end now. When Taehyung wakes up, do you think what’s best for him is to hear you doubt loving him?”
“No! I don’t doubt loving him! I will never doubt loving him. I’m just so scared, hyung.”
“I know you are, Jungkookie. That’s why I have an idea. I’m not going to wait around for whatever long game Bang spoke to Dae-Hyun about. I’m the leader here and I’m going to fix all of this.”
“What do you mean? What’s your plan?”
“I need you to trust me. I need to discuss it with Bang and Dae-Hyun first and if they agree to it, I’ll tell you all about it then. I’ll need someone else on board, but I’ll worry about that if you’re all okay with it first. Would you be upset with me if I head back to the dorm to change? I’m meeting them at the offices in two hours.”
“Of course, hyung. Thank you for taking care of us. Tae is going to be okay.”
“Tell yourself that, Kookie. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Namjoon gives him a sad smile and leaves the room, leaving Jungkook to wonder what their leader has up his sleeve. Sometimes it feels like he goes too far to fulfill his role, sticking his neck out for everyone else despite the consequences. Jungkook doesn’t have much time to dwell on it, though. He hears his name mumbled and whips his head to the right. Taehyung’s eyes are blinking fast and focused on him. He expected them to be full of confusion or fear, but all he can see is love. He bursts into tears and grips his hand harder, pressing his forehead to the warming skin.
“It’s okay, my love. I’m okay. Please don’t cry.”
********
Namjoon is sitting at a small table in a conference room of BigHit with the CEO and Dae-Hyun. Dae-Hyun looks like he wants to vomit, probably unsure of why he’s being called in yet again. Namjoon isn’t sure how everyone is going to react to this plan of his, but he’s not going to take a chance on a plan that he isn’t even allowed to be privy to. This is his family at stake and he’ll go as far as he needs to to protect them.
“Alright Namjoon, you called us here, what’s this all about? I thought we covered everything and made it clear that it will be unhelpful if we involve you in the details of the plan.”
“You did, PD-nim, but forgive me for what I’m about to say. I’m not comfortable with what you’ve laid out. I understand if your plan will not work with my involvement, I trust you on that. However, I think I’ve come up with a plan of my own and I want to run it by you both before I enact it.”
“You speak as if enacting it is an inevitability. It is not. I have final say here.”
“Forgive me again, but I’m going to try this with or without your approval. If that makes contract negotiations contentious, so be it. I can’t risk my team. Taehyung is currently in the hospital with a concussion after he had a panic attack about all of this and hit his head. I’m not putting them through this any longer. They trust me, they know I can fix this.”
“I have my doubts, but let’s hear this plan of yours first.”
“I’d like to enlist a trusted friend of mine to take some planned trips and outings with me over the next few months leading up to the album release. With the group’s approval, I will bring him in on the situation so that he knows what he’s getting himself into. I want Dae-Hyun to go to his contact and leak that my friend and I are the couple in question.”
“How on earth is that going to help anything?”
“Hear me out. We let ourselves be photographed and filmed. Once there is enough ‘evidence’, it will be put into the press and we can sue whoever breaks the story first for slander. No matter how much it’s investigated, there will be no proof beyond some outings with a childhood friend. Does this line up with your plan at all?”
“A bit, yes. Dae-Hyun disclosed to me that since he hasn’t been reporting any information, the contact tried to sweeten the deal. The company in question will offer him a highly-paid position there once the story officially breaks, considering that a fulfillment of their deal. He will then turn all the evidence of their meetings with the name of the company to me and we will work on jailing whoever had a hand in this for blackmail. That would effectively discredit any future leaks or suspicion about a BTS couple.”
“That’s perfect then. Dae-Hyun, would you be on board for this plan?”
“Absolutely, Namjoon-ssi. I will do whatever it takes to fix this for all of you.”
“Thank you. PD-nim? Thoughts?”
“I have to admit that it’s a great idea, Namjoon. However, I’m a bit worried about you in all this. Are you prepared for the hit this could mean to your own reputation? Even if it’s only temporary and we clear your name, this stuff follows you. There will always be people who speculate that we just did a great job of covering up the truth.”
“I’m more than prepared. I will do anything for my family. Anyone who knows me personally will know that the story is false, that’s all that matters to me. Screw everyone else.”
********
Jimin is in Yoongi’s bed letting the elder hold him as he cries. Everyone returned home with Taehyung earlier that morning and the relief at his soulmate’s safety is overwhelming. Jungkook gave the two some time to rest together before he took over and Jimin is grateful. Jin took Jimin’s bed for the night so Jimin could stay in with Yoongi. He needed more than anything to not be alone. Everyone has collapsed at this point, exhausted from pulling an all-nighter full of fear.
Jimin knows that he should be asleep too, he’s just not ready yet. He’s curled into his chest and inhaling the safe scent of home. They don’t have to say a word, he just needs strength and love. Namjoon had texted them all to meet for yet another family meeting later, though no one has any idea what this one is about. He tried to insist that Taehyung needs more time to rest before being faced with anything else, but Tae had been stubborn and insisted he was fine now.
Jimin supposes he is okay, he has a clean bill of health from the doctor and is certainly acting normal. He was cleared to take a short nap, but Jungkook is going to be sure to wake him up. They shouldn’t baby him, but Jimin was so scared seeing the way he went down. Yoongi had tried to get him to breathe the way he does for his attacks, but Tae seemed too far gone. Watching him slump to the floor was bad enough, but Jimin will never forget the sound his head made when it hit the counter.
He tries to think about anything else and looks up from Yoongi’s chest, seeing the other man’s eyelids droop closed. He doesn’t have it in him to keep him awake any longer and focuses on his soft, even breaths. He starts to find the rhythm calming and feels himself drifting off.
After what seems like just a few minutes, the alarm on his phone starts to ring and Yoongi groans next to him and tries to hide underneath the comforter. It’s incredibly endearing. Jimin giggles and shuts off the alarm, climbing under the blanket to find him.
“Mmph. No. Go away.”
“Come, my most adorable hyung. We have to go meet the guys. Namjoon’s orders.”
“Most adorable? Go find Hobi.”
“Nope! You! You, you, you!”
He peppers kisses all over Yoongi’s face and laughs at the resulting grumbles. He throws the blanket off of them and flips on the light, jumping up and down on the bed to really rub salt in the wound. Hands grab him around the calves and he falls down to the bed, tackled into immobility. Yoongi plants a kiss on his lips and then moves his face over to his ear.
“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that.”
A shiver runs down Jimin’s body and his lips part, leaning up for another kiss but only hits empty air. Yoongi has already left the bed and is pulling on his sweats, winking as he walks out the door. Jimin jumps up to follow him, pouncing on his back as he heads down the hall.
“Yah! Jimin-ah!”
“Carry me!”
He laughs as Yoongi shakes his head and does his best to cart him down the hallway, dropping him right before they enter the living room. Everyone is there except Namjoon and seems to be trying to figure out what they could need to talk about. Jimin makes a beeline for Taehyung, who looks tired but has his color back. The others have left an open space next to him and it means the world.
Jimin and Yoongi get settled into seats when the front door opens and Namjoon walks in. He has a smile on his face, which makes the entire room perk up. Maybe for once the news will be good instead of bad. They can’t handle more bad things right now.
“Hey guys. Thanks for meeting me again. I met with Bang and Dae-Hyun again this morning and we all have something to discuss.”
“Oh god, what is it now? Can’t you see that Taehyung needs a break from all of this? Is this why you left the hospital?”
“Jiminie. I wouldn’t have brought this to you all if it wasn’t important. It’s not bad news. The original plan that was concocted without our input is scrapped. I brought a new plan to Bang this morning and I’m going to be executing it with Dae-Hyun. There’s just one part I need everyone’s permission on.”
“Sorry, hyung. It was a long night for us all.”
“I understand. No harm done. Basically, I didn’t have faith in a plan that we didn’t even get to hear. We’re all a mess over this whole thing and I’m taking matters into my own hands. I’m going to enlist a friend to meet me for some meals and some vacations over the next few months and I’m going to have Dae-Hyun leak us as the secret BTS couple. What I’m looking for approval on is bringing my friend into the fold on the situation. Jin-hyung knows him and can vouch for him.”
“Yong Bon-Hwa? Namjoon, how could you ask him to put himself on the line like this? How could you put yourself on the line like this? How is this any better for anyone?”
The room erupts into overlapping arguments.
“Absolutely not.”
“Hyung, what the fuck?”
“This is insane and ridiculous.”
“We love you for wanting to do this, but we can’t let you.”
“That’s enough. I am not asking permission to go forward with the plan, I am asking for approval of the person involved. I’ve given this a lot of thought and it’s airtight. Bon-Hwa would be more than happy to help, I’ve known him my entire life. We will leave the kind of evidence that our blackmailer and the news outlets will drool over, but once it’s all released we will be able to show the holes in their logic. We can sue the media for slander and the blackmailer could face jail time. It’ll discredit any attempted leaks in the future. You’ll all be safe.”
Jimin starts to see the leader’s point. As long as they plan the “evidence” meticulously, this will work. He has no issue with Namjoon picking the friend in question, he trusts his judgment. He can only think of one snag.
“Hyung, how does this lead to the blackmailer?”
“Dae-Hyun was approached by his contact and told if he can find enough evidence to bring to the media, he’ll be hired at the company. The day the scandal hits the public, we’ll have the culprit.”
“I say go for it, then.”
The entire group swivels their heads to stare at him incredulously. Jungkook and Taehyung look angrier than the rest. Yoongi seems surprised but nods at him.
“What are you all looking at? Don’t disrespect Namjoon’s sacrifice for us. He would have never brought this to the company if he wasn’t positive about it. Have some faith. Do I want him to put himself at risk? Of course not. Do I trust him? Absolutely. Kookie, Taetae, I know you probably feel guilty. I do too. The four of us started all of this. We shouldn’t, though. What have we done wrong here? Fallen in love?”
Yoongi smiles at him from across the room and it’s as if the room gets warmer. He stands up and comes over, crouching down in front of the couch. He takes Jimin’s face in his hands and kisses him softly on the lips as he runs his thumbs over his cheeks.
“Jimin is right. Let Namjoon try.”
Slowly, everyone in the room nods along and voices their assent, even though some look less than convinced. They discuss the particulars and the timeline, nothing will be convincing if the information is given all at once. It’s a plan that will take time, falling into place piece by piece over the months leading up to the release of Love Yourself: Tear. Namjoon leaves the room to call Bon-Hwa and the rest disperse.
********
Taehyung lets Jungkook walk him back to bed despite not really needing it. He appreciated all the fretting at first, but is starting to feel a little suffocated. He feels fine other than having a headache and everyone is treating him like he’s made of glass. He’s embarrassed that he let his panic spiral out of control and that he had everyone so worried.
“Kook-ah. I’m fine.”
“Lay down. Can I get you some water? How about food, can I order some takeout? Your feet must be freezing without socks, hang on.”
“Jungkook! Come here. Stop.”
He sees Jungkook’s frazzled face turn pink and he comes to sit on the edge of the bed, much too far away. He sighs and scoots himself closer to his anxious boyfriend.
“No, don’t move, what are you doing?!”
“Kook. Deep breaths. It was just a fall. I was given the all-clear by the doctor. You’re running around like a chicken with your head cut off for nothing. You won’t even sit near me!”
“I just don’t want to hurt you or overwhelm you.”
“I know and I love you for that, but what I really need right now is some normalcy. Come here, please.”
Taehyung backs himself up until his back is up against the headboard and opens his arms. Jungkook hesitates for a second before begrudgingly moving his way up the bed and laying his head on his chest. It’s a start, at least.
“So Tae, what do you think of Namjoon’s plan?”
“I think Jimin is right, we need to trust him. It upset me at first, I didn’t want him sticking his neck out like that, but who am I to tell him what to do? He’s our hyung, he’ll do the right thing.”
********
Yoongi takes a look at what’s laid out in front of him and feels himself salivate. The second they closed his door behind them, Yoongi had ordered Jimin out of his clothes and made him lay down on the bed and wait. It’s been fifteen minutes and Yoongi has done nothing but sit in his desk chair watching Jimin twitch and squirm. His body is blushed pink from being laid bare.
“Hyung, please. Touch me.”
“I suppose you’ve waited long enough.”
Yoongi stands and strips in front of Jimin slowly, watching his eyes widen at each newly revealed piece of skin. He doubts he’ll ever tire of being looked at like this, like he’s an awe-inspiring gift. He’s never thought of himself as particularly sexy, but Jimin makes him feel like he could seduce the world.
“Can I trust you to keep your hands above your head or do I need to tie them?”
“I’ll keep them up, I promise!”
Yoongi chuckles under his breath at the desperation in the other man’s voice. This is exactly what he had in mind, Jimin entirely at his mercy. He climbs onto the bed, leaning over to lick a stripe across his mouth without letting it become a kiss. The resulting whine makes his already-hard cock twitch. He starts his journey down Jimin’s body, never pressing his lips to the skin. His tongue draws shapes and writes messages against the soft expanse of honey and traces over the inked words along his ribs. He gets to Jimin’s already leaking cock and skips right over it, lifting his knees up.
“You can move your hands. Hold.”
“H-hyung?”
“Do as I say.”
Jimin’s hands come down and circle around his thighs, pulling them towards his chest. Yongi leans forwards and blows a puff of air between his cheeks before spreading them open with his hands. He brings his face forward and Jimin starts to drop his legs and protest in embarrassment at something so intimate. Yoongi lifts his head and leaves a sharp bite on the inside of Jimin’s thigh until he yelps and grabs his legs again.
“Don’t you dare do that again, Jimin. I’m warning you now.”
Yoongi refocuses and brings his tongue down to lick one swift stripe from Jimin’s hole to his balls and smiles at the groan it elicits. He licks back and forth until he can feel the tremors running through his legs when he stiffens his tongue and slips it past the first ring of muscle inside Jimin’s ass. He starts to bring it in and out slowly, savoring the taste of the only part he’s never had on his tongue.
“Daddy, fuck. Don’t stop. That feels so good. I can barely hold onto my legs.”
“Let them go, flower. Hands back above your head.”
He dives back in until he has Jimin writhing above him and whimpering when he pulls away. He sits up on his knees and reaches forward to the nightstand for the bottle of lube. After slicking his fingers, Yoongi slides two into Jimin at the same time, his prep work already half done for him. He makes quick work of stretching him the rest of the way and then stops, leaving him empty.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Are you questioning Daddy, Jimin-ah? That doesn’t seem like a very wise move.”
“No-no-no, I promise I wasn’t.”
“Hmm, seems to me like you were. I wonder when that will come back to bite you in the ass.”
A pleasing hint of fear crosses Jimin’s face before it’s wiped out by Yoongi slamming into him in one fell swoop. His face contorts into the prettiest expression as he practically sings a high note. He’s pushing himself down onto his cock as Yoongi thrusts up to meet him.
The poor thing must have been so worked up by just my staring from the chair.
“There you go. What a good boy, Jiminie. So pretty for Daddy. So sexy.”
Jimin only whimpers in response, unable to form words properly. Yoongi loves seeing him like this, completely lost in the pleasure. He decides he deserves a little reward and strokes his praise kink a bit more before giving him more instructions as he starts to fuck into him harder.
“God, I could spend forever inside your perfect ass. It’s so tight and so hungry for my cock. It’s like it was made for me. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
“O-only beautiful for you, hyung.”
“Beautiful for everyone, Jimin-ah. But only mine. Now, you can move your hands. Use one to stroke your cock, but don’t cum until I tell you to.”
Jimin’s hands lower and one wraps around Yoongi’s ass while the other circles his clearly neglected cock. The most erotic sigh leaves his lips as he starts to stroke himself slowly, determined to follow instructions and not cum. The view alone brings Yoongi close to the edge and he grits his teeth as he fights not to lose his rhythm. He sees Jimin’s hand speed up and smirks, knowing what’s coming.
“D-Daddy, can I cum? Please?”
“Already? Tsk, tsk. That didn’t take very long, did it?”
“Please. Please. I can’t hold it.”
“Sure you can, I’m going to count you down.”
“Oh god, no.”
“10…”
“Agh.”
“9…”
“Mmph.”
“8…”
“God. Please.”
“7…”
“Count faster!”
“Well you know that’s only going to slow me down. Silly.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“6…”
“Daddy!”
“5…”
“Hyung!”
“4…”
“Yoongi!”
“3…”
“PLEASE.
“2…”
“I can’t hold it anymore. I’m sorry, I just can’t!”
“Yes you can, and you will.”
Yoongi pauses, drawing Jimin out until he can feel his own release growing. His hips start to stutter as he utters out the last number.
“1…”
“Now?!”
“Now, my love. Let go.”
Jimin screams as more and more cum spurts from the purple head of his cock, Yoongi filling him at the same time. The clenching of muscles around his own cock makes his orgasm seem never ending as he empties more and more inside of Jimin. They’re both gasping for air as he slowly slides himself out. He grabs the wipes in his nightstand drawer before cleaning them both off, then collapses on top of Jimin’s sweat-slicked body.
“How are you feeling, Jimin-ah? I know I was rough before you were completely prepped.”
“Are you kidding? That was mind-blowing. But that goddamned counting…”
“That’s what you get for being a bad little sub, love.”
Jimin rolls his eyes and turns onto his side, bringing Yoongi with him. He wraps the younger man in his arms and slowly strokes his hand up and down his spine. His heart swells with fondness and he counts his blessings again that Park Jimin was brought into his life.
“Jimin, I know what you should name your song.”
“What, Yoongi?”
“Serendipity.”
********
Jin and Hobi have stopped playing their video game and are staring at each other in horror. The silence is broken when Hobi bursts into hysterical laughter and falls onto his back on the floor. Jin doesn’t find it quite so amusing.
“Yah! I just wanted to play some games during our sleepover! Daddy, Hyung, Yoongi?! What are all these jerks trying to do to me? I’ll never get all these sounds out of my head. No one respects their elders anymore! No one has any regard for my comfort! These kinky little shits are going to be the death of me! I’m going for a walk!”
He storms from the room leaving a red-faced Hobi on the floor, his laughter ringing through the halls.
#jungkook#taehyung#jimin#yoongi#namjoon#suga#rm#hobi#jin#taekook#yoonmin#bts#bts ff#bts fanfic#jungkook x Taehyung#yoongi x jimin#canon compliant#homophobia#internalized homophobia#fluff#angst#smut#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst
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