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hollyhomburg · 3 months

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Before I leave you (Pt.67)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You and Hobi bury a dead body (That's a lie, Yoongi buries it for you).

Tags: blood, gore, body horror, death, dead bodies, everyone is pretty beat-up in this, brief implied self-harm but it's very quickly squashed- seriously it's nowhere near as bad as past scenes but i do have to tag it, Dissociation, tae is in the freeze part of fight or flight. hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns, flashbacks, discussions of past abusive relationships, everything is very fluffy until it's not,

W/c: 12.5k

A/N: Are you guys ready for Hoseok's secret reveal??? I'm really excited!!! But also terrified because this whole series has lead up to this point!!! A good number of people have already guessed his secret so congrats on getting it early <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Jimin sits on the stairs going down to the basement. His arm in a sling and bandaged up to the elbow. It aches with every small movement he makes as he peals a tangerine. He hasn't had any narcotics in a few hours and they're starting to wear off.

Jimin needs all of his brain power for this; For covering up the murder.

The fewer things running through his system the less sluggish and fuzzy his thoughts are. Jimin picks his poisons and fewer things make him less coherent than the panic and pain and near constant avalanche of thoughts. Tae, Tae's hurt, Tae's-

Tae's fine, Tae's upstairs with Y/n. he has to remind himself of these facts every few breaths. Tae's going to be okay because you wouldn't let anything happen to her.

There is evidence of that virtually everywhere; In the lines across your hands that Yoongi had dabbed at with a cool cloth, the swollen side of your jaw that he'd cradled. The blood drenching the opposite side of your face that he'd tenderly washed away. Not to mention the blood on the kitchen table, the floor, the ceiling. The blood splattered across your nest-

You don't fuck with an omega's nest; you don't fuck with their packmates.

Jimin quiets his brain with a steady breath as he looks down at Yoongi, Jin, and the body between the three of them wrapped in plastic.

He manages to peel the tangerine in his hand despite how uncooperative his left hand is. Numb at the fingertips just like it’s been since the surgery.

Namjoon had stroked his fingers and tested their give every chance he got, holding onto them and prodding while they waited in the hospital room and then again when Jimin got discharged. He said that they’d probably get better. Probably.

Tae's going to be fine because Namjoon is there too- had checked out her head with that soft alpha grumble croon of his. The most soothing sound in the world, and yet incapable of soothing this.

But Jimin knows nothing’s for certain, he might never get the feeling in his hand back. (This is Jimin's penance; The reminder of these tangled few weeks and how things went will be ever present. The reminder will be the first press of every touch with his non-dominant hand. He will never regain full feeling to the tips of his fingers. Never).

There are a few of noodle paw prints in the dust here, Jimin's ass is no doubt covered in it too from resting on the rickety stairs that lead into the half-finished basement. Little paw print marks that would make you coo and take pictures if you were down here.

But you’re not, you’re upstairs getting the evidence washed off of you.

No one's in that kind of mood right now anyway. No one’s been in that kind of mood for a few hours (or a few days, if he’s being honest, from Jungkook’s seizure, to getting shot, and then coming home to a dead body in their living room).

It’s been 4 hours since you killed someone in the kitchen. 3 hours since Jimin was discharged prematurely from the hospital and the rest of the pack was summoned home via a disturbingly calm call from Jin.

It’s been a tangle of moments even for the people not on hard drugs. Jimin feels like he's doing pretty good at answering the pack’s questions given the circumstances. You'd never know that, given Yoongi's eye roll and Jin's heavy sigh.

"Minnie- we're not asking you how you would have killed him just how you'd cover it up."

They used an old shower liner to wrap the body before they carried it downstairs. It makes a squeaky noise against Jin's rubber gloves (The pink elbow-high ones that he uses to do the dishes) as he pulls back the plastic sheet to reveal what's left of the assassin's head and face.

“I already told you, I don’t know his face- not even a little.” I’d have a pretty hard time identifying his face with the state she left it in regardless Is what he doesn't say.

Jimin tucks his chin, unsettled to look at the man's half-blown apart face for long. "I think he might be the spider but I don’t know. I never met him, only heard his name in passing.”

A small tattoo on the man's wrist reveals as much. A small spider tattoo that someone going to have to cut out and bury separately. Someone's going to have to get all of his teeth too- no identifying marks. None.

He’s a little too impressed with the state you’d left him in when he thinks about it. But once he’d seen your face and Hobi’s neck, not an inch of Jimin had felt the kill wasn’t justified. The whole pack feels that way, he knows they must even though they don't say it. Everyone's a little bit in shock right now.

Even Namjoon hadn’t even given the body a second glance when the pack had tumbled into the house. The pack alpha had simply alternated his fussing from you to Hobi to tae and then Jin. Torn between who needed him first. It was the first words Jimin had heard you speak. Your wet gasp, blood that wasn't yours flashing on your teeth. "Joonie- Hobi needs you."

Namjoon had calmed only once he realized that most of the blood on the three of you was the man’s. Yoongi had a similar reaction and so had Jimin, clutching at Tae. Angry at his arm for its uncooperativeness. About ready to tug off his sling and his bandages and stitches if it meant holding tae easier. He'd even tried it, only to be on the receiving end of a disapproving pack alpha growel too.

“Jimin you can’t; your stitches.”

“Fuck my stitches hyung.”

Numb fingers meet numb faces.

He's a bit ashamed of it, but when he first looked up from Tae to you- where you sat crumpled in Yoongi's hold. Your mate laying down a volley of sweet nothings to you to get you to stop shaking. There was only one sentence running through his head.

That’s my girl.

He'd reached over and squeezed your hand, blood and all. That blood has dried now. Soaked into the lines of his palm. Coloring his fate and love lines all rusty while he eats the tangerine. He should probably wash his hands. All of them probably need too.

Jungkook had been the only one willing to speak, closing the door softly behind him, locking it and treading softly closer. Careful to sidestep both the pools of blood and the piece of a skull sitting next to the couch. He looked down at the 7 of you with a surprisingly calm expression on his face.

"Can't we have one normal fucking day?"

Jungkook was the one who’d gone to the kitchen and gotten one of the hand towels to clean your face. His lips tightened to a line when he wiped away the blood and started to see the bruising, the cut across your temple dripping fresh. Lower lip wobbling ever so slightly.

“Kookie-”

Jungkook had turned to Jin and Namjoon, “I don’t want to deal with the body hyung." His hands were already under your arms, lifting you up, helpless. "Help me get them upstairs. We need to-” he’d let out a frustrated noise. Instincts coming to the full front- instincts he rarely feels.

Who knew blood would incur Jungkook's grooming instincts?

The last time Jimin saw Jungkook; He was helping Namjoon and Yoongi herd the three of you upstairs for a much-needed shower. Hobi hadn't been able to do it under his own power. Namjoon had to carry him.

Hobi; who's choked on every word he's tried to speak. Whose eyes are still red from all the burst blood vessels. Who easily got the closest to dying out of the four of you.

Everyone shakes when they touch Hobi and everyone touches him softly. Namjoon just about snaps his teeth at anyone who tries to get close. His hands turning red from the cold of an ice pack wrapped gently around the alpha's throat.

Jimin knows Jungkook's a lot more unnerved than he lets on, shuffling from foot to foot as he bound Tae up with a towel, taking her delicately from Jimin's arms. Carrying her in the same way Namjoon carried Hobi.

Yoongi was all soft helping you upstairs. Speaking in that quiet voice that he saves for Sunday mornings and stolen moments of quiet. Every moment, all of this is stolen.

And now- the beta is down here, leaning over the body and looking at it like it will tell him something that you won't. After your initial demand that Namjoon he tend to Hobi; you haven't spoken a word. Neither has Tae. Jin's done all of the talking.

There isn’t much to say.

Jimin feels the numbness in his hands and looks at Jin. He hasn't apologized for the bullet yet. But the more time that passes the less Jimin wants an apology. Mating marks come in many forms. Jimin has a scar on his body from one of his omega's- so really? What does he have to be upset about?

The whole house needs to be deep cleaned, and then deep cleaned again. There's blood everywhere; on the couch, the ceiling, the curtains. It's a lot to clean. It's going to be a lot to hide.

That's the only reason why Jimin's not upstairs helping you and Tae clean up right now; the body is unfortunately the biggest threat to the pack's safety at the moment.

There’s a bloodstain on the stairs too, a droplet next to where Jimin sits. he makes a mental note of it but doesn't move to wipe it up. He puts a tangerine slice on his tongue and chews before he answers Yoongi’s next question.

“I don’t know how to dispose of a body, I never dealt with this part. My only job was to kill, not take care of them after. I know there’s a way that you can do it with soap.”

Jin snorts, “You only know that from breaking bad-“

Jimin’s a little miffed, “We already have a plastic tub upstairs-”

“Lye,” Yoongi corrects, looking down at the body before he stoops to retape the plastic over the man's face. It was a bitch to wrap him up, the body stiff and heavy from rigor Mortis. The blood beneath it bubbles and darkens, coagulating. Yoongi's long hair falls over his face and he tucks it behind his ear.

“We could use the soap, but it might take a few days.” Jin clarifies.

“Do you think we can wait that long?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin’s got a similar ice pack to his wrists, the skin there bruised and red and swelling where he fought to get free from the handcuffs, where he eventually ripped down the banisters and broke through them with brute strength and panic.

You’d found the keys on the man’s body soon after and released him from the handcuffs, they're wrapped up in the plastic along with the frying pan, the gun that killed him, and a few other items from the living room that were just too bloodstained, every big piece of evidence will lie right beside him where he rests.

Jimin eats another slice of the tangerine, and Jin shrivels his nose at it. “Isn’t that a little gross?”

Yoongi mirrors his disgust. “Yeah Minnie, weren’t those covered in blood?”

But Jimin just shrugs, “I washed it and peeled it hyung” And keeps eating. After a few days of hospital food, the tangerines taste divine.

Yoongi stands from where he’s kneeling on his knees with a faint crack. “One part kitty litter, two parts concrete should keep out the smell,” Jin says, eyeing the 6 by-six-foot hole in the basement's foundation, already there from the plumbing that needed replacing.

Most of Yoongi's tools are down here too. His scrap pile of wood and the dozen bags of concrete. His hack saw and his circular saw that none of them are looking at. Yoongi had only just fit in the plumbing a few weeks ago. He'd been about to re-pour the foundation anyway.

“I’d rather not have a body buried in our house.”

Yoongi touches Jin’s wrist, so feather-light, removing the ice pack to check the swelling to see if it’s gone down. Jin's left hand is just as useless as Jimin's, the knuckles bruised and ballooned.

“It’s just for a few weeks, we can deal with this once it’s all calmed down, but we absolutely can’t go try and bury it. Who knows what the neighbors heard?”

They're all silent at that, silent at the idea that these few hours might be the last few that the pack spends free.

But over the next few hours, there are no blue and red flashing lights outside or concerned neighbors that come knocking. Your one saving grace is that this all happened during the middle of the day and all of your nearest neighbors have nine to five's. Is it so simple to hope that everyone was just at work? That no one heard the gunshots over the nearby roar of the passing train?

(Maybe they're just too used to the pack next door; the one that has the noisy ruts and noisy noisy packmates. The one whose alphas have a habit of opening the windows in the back room and let the sound of their roughhousing and video games flood the street. The ones who have extra loud movie nights. They're just a bunch of kids, how harmful could they really be? At least the pack alpha and omega look respectable.)

It's a good thing that no one comes; because Namjoon has more important problems, more important things to handle beyond the body in the basement or the police at the door.

Namjoon’s hands cradle Hobi’s neck. He wheeze as he tries to speak, his mouth falling open. He's mostly clean, but a rusty trickle of water from his hair trails down his shoulders.

Jungkook tugged him into the shower first and gave him a rough clean before handing him back to Namjoon. They sit on a towel together on the edge of the nest. they only moved him in here to give him some privacy- to distract him because Hobi kept reaching for you. you'd kept reaching back, tae was already in the shower under the stream.

"Pup- your hands- you're going to hurt yourself."

The Nestroom is dark and quiet. Every single blind in the house is draw. Only the christmas lights illuminate Hobi's injuries. Namjoon will tend to Tae and then you after he's checked out Hobi's injuries. will send him downstairs with Jin for some cold water to soothe his throat once he's done. once he's been cleaned again probably.

Hobi was covered with the most blood, having been just under the man when Tae had blown his throat apart while you- Namjoon doesn't want to think of it, doesn't want to see it.

(Namjoon thinks of every moment, sees them behind every blink. Blink and he sees you sitting in his lap over breakfast squirming happily. Blink and you're kneeling in a bloody puddle looking up at him.

Blink and you're curled up in the nest wearing the first pajama pants he'd given you. Blink and he's watching Jungkook dab at your bloody cheek, blink and you're turning into his hand to nuzzle as he wakes you for sunday morning breakfast. Blink and there’s sunlight spilling across your face and blood slipping down your chin. Namjoon's smallest and most sensitive pup not so innocent anymore.)

Namjoon touches Hobi's throat with no small amount of reverence. it cools the anger in his throat. Namjoon's anger has no good place to go.

When Hobi closes his eyes, he sees it too; the explosion of the bullet and the splat of blood pouring down his face. The shower earlier felt so similar- he almost couldn't handle it. He had to concentrate on Jungkook's voice narrating everything.

"Here Hobi, I'm gonna use some soap now. I like Tae's body wash. You know she always just picks whatever bottles are pinkest because she wants all her toiletries to match. It smells good, doesn't it? Can you take a deep breath for me? Through your nose?"

Endless meaningless Jibber jabber to distract all of them.

Now he shivers and shakes in Namjoon's hold. One part terror and one part near frostbite. Namjoon turns the heat up but Hobi still shakes as Namjoon checks his throat. "Open for me baby- that's a good boy."

He flashes a light down there, listening with his stethoscope. The cold metal end of it presses against his collarbones and the bruises too. Finger-shaped that lace over his jugular like a collar. Over Hobi's heart. Every thump ba-thump ba-thump music to Namjoon's ears.

Namjoon’s growl is soothing as he scoots closer to gather the injured alpha close to his chest. Shushing Hobi as he tries to speak for the dozenth time in the last hour. “Don’t try it, careful- I don’t think he did any lasting damage but-”

Namjoon breaks and his forehead drops to Hoseok’s shoulder, fingers rub out soothing circles on Hobi's wrist even as he starts to cry. Namjoon already stitched up the deep puncture wound there. He had to hold his wrist still as he dabbed the stingy antiseptic, the impulse to pull it away too great. The wound wasn't from a bullet but from the piece of the door that embedded itself in Hobi’s wrist. Blown apart the way he could have been.

Namjoon was so close to losing everything, to losing them.

The bruises, Hobi’s eyes, and his little raspy breaths. Everything both punishment and payment for every violent thing Namjoon wants to do. He feels powerless to do more than hold the smaller alpha right now. The strength in his arms doing little to protect Hobi from the hurts he's already nursing. Hoseok leans his head on Namjoon's shoulder and Just lets the alpha hold him.

If he’d come home to the four of you dead what would he have done? more accurately- What wouldn’t he have done?

Namjoon imagines it- the same way he's imagined it thousands of times. Tae's blood on her lips as pretty as any lip stain. Jin on the floor, his little big love wrapped up in permanent stillness like a mating shroud. Your body turned small and quiet the way you'd been when he'd met you- only so much worse. Hobi with his heart slow and absent of his near-constant music. Bodies stiff as statues, turned alters meant to worship both grief and love.

He’d probably have demanded Jimin and Yoongi tell him everything they knew. And then he’d have gone hunting.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath and pulls away from Hoseok only to continue dabbing at his wounds. The violence of his alpha's instincts calmed by the sanctity of this- of making it better. of being gentle even when namjoon wants to be anything but.

Hoseok’s mute. Throat too swollen to make more than a soft hissing sound on command. Vocal cords not damaged just swollen. Leaving his brain to hurdle through the last few hours. Eyes closed but his mind wide open.

He sees it all behind his eyes; your hand descending with the frying pan, the explosion of wood near his head. The splat of hot blood against the wood floor. Gasping and getting blood in his mouth accidentally. Choking in it- drowning a little. Everything. The sting of smoke on his eyes. Your words ring in his ears like the final notes of a symphony.

“You can take me. I’ll go with you. Willingly. That’s what she wants isn’t it?”

Hoseok’s brain teases through what you might have meant with that. The unnamed she that you mention. Who, why, and what aren’t you telling them? Is it the woman that Yoongi talked to you about before?

He's unable to say anything to Namjoon even as the alpha softy cradles his damaged throat. Unable to even whisper it out through the swelling that threatens to cut off Hobi's airway. It feels like he's breathing through a straw. Namjoon says he's not going to choke, that it only feels that way. The panic is hard to let go of.

But who do you have to go back to there? You've never talked about the family like you wanted them, like they were your pack. Who have you run from? What monsters are here to haunt you? Who is after you? Or is it something darker- more sinister?

Maybe Hoseok's heart has never truly healed from Yoongi leaving them. Maybe a wounded heart remembers. Yoongi always had them to go back to that Hoseok had never questioned. But he's never wondered about you or stopped to consider that maybe, Yoongi's not the only one who left something.

The family doesn't exactly seem like something you can walk away from unscathed. Yoongi managed it, but Jimin didn't.

Hoseok should warn Namjoon, should tell someone but- it's impossible. His airway protesting with an agonizing twinge with every attempt he makes at speaking. He wonders if this is what being nonverbal felt like for you.

The pain pulses dully without adrenaline to dilute it as Namjoon so lovingly examines the marks, again and again. But he shouldn't be spending so much time. You and Tae are bruised and battered too- even if Hoseok’s are by far the worst; you need tending to.

Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival.

Hoseok thinks of the body, not the one that sits downstairs, but the one that you found months ago in the ocean. Maybe this wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe none of this was. How far back do the coincidences go? Between Jin and Yoongi who wouldn't have a relationship to stand on without Yoongi's family- how many other things in the pack are because of this?

Hoseok struggles to speak, to talk to Namjoon about what you'd almost done, what you'd almost bartered- but nothing but air comes out, and the pack alpha shushes him. His hands grip Namjoon's shoulders hard.

Namjoon wishes he had more than just numbing cream and sutures for Hobi’s hurts. Jimin’s already offered up some of his opioids for Hobi to sleep and as much as Namjoon hates the idea of anyone swapping medication- Hobi might actually need them.

Jimin’s doctor had been a little bit liberal with them, sure that his 6 on the pain scale had to be at least a 9. He could spare one or two. The truth is that nothing hurts more than this- seeing the people that you love in pain. Jimin and Namjoon save their 10s for days like this.

With the blood cooling, Namjoon’s anger has nowhere to go. The body in the basement has already gone cold.

In the quiet of the house they can audibly hear Seokjin and Yoongi start mixing the concrete. The dull scrape of a shovel against a bucket and the sound of a faucet dripping.

Namjoon wipes at Hobi’s throat, and Hoseok tries again- futile in his efforts to speak. Namjoon shushes him.

In the basement it goes; drip, scrape, drip.

~-~

Jungkook holds Tae up underneath the warm spray of water. The glass is foggy in places and clear and others, occasional spots of red water joining the constellation of them. She rests against Jungkook's chest, her body is prone and almost lifeless. Eyes vacant and glassy.

So shaky and tired as her body rockets down from its adrenaline high. A drop so abrupt that she could hardly hold herself up. A drop so terrifying that Jungkook must do it for her.

He doesn't mind, none of him minds as he cradles the back of her head oh so gently. Tae flinches, whether from pain or the sudden movement. Jungkook meets Jimin's eyes through the foggy glass and then yours. Biting his lower lip before Jimin nods and tells him to keep going.

Evidence is evidence. Washing off can’t wait.

Jimin has joined you upstairs with the body already packed away and on its way to being buried under the foundation of the house. Jimin watches on from outside the shower as he instructs Jungkook in a quiet voice on how to clean Tae of evidence properly. He's been quiet since then. Staring at them while Tae stares blankly back.

You watch them from where you sit. Mostly you just watch Tae. When Namjoon's body doesn’t block your view. He stitches the gash on your forehead, hands pulling the sutures closed in a gentle and practiced way. The pass of the needle through your skin a distant sensation.

The wounds on your hands are in that awkward place of not being deep enough for stitches but still a little too deep to not need something. After a brief debate, Namjoon sealed them with a bit of non-surgical glue that stung terribly and then regular gauze over the top.

Your hands are swelling and clotting. Scabbing although trying to touch anything is too painful. Closing your fingers at all hurts. Namjoon holds you so lightly it hardly feels like he's holding you at all.

Namjoon apologizes after every wince.

The second he’s done he tosses his suture kit into the bathroom sink with a clang the second he’s done. Namjoon gets on his knees before you. The plastic that covers the whole bathroom crackling as he does.

Jimin had the great idea to cover the bathroom with sheets of plastic to cut down on the cleanup. Hoseok's bloody footprints join Tae's trailing from the doorway to the shower. Join the trail that you left. Parts of you are still dripping.

"It's going to scar," Namjoon says, a little sadly. Thumb skimming over the mark on your forehead.

You swallow hard. You still taste blood. You want to brush your teeth; you want to shut the lights off and go to sleep. You want Noodle and you want Yoongi you want everything from the past few hours- the past few years to be gone and over with. You want-

You want to snap at him and tell him that it doesn't matter that it will scar. That you're covered with scars already and you don't care but-

Namjoon kisses your forehead. A lingering brush. The one spot that's not bloody.

You look over at Tae and her eyes flicker blankly to you. Jungkook keeps bringing the boar bristle brush up and down her back in soothing little circles.

When you turn back to Namjoon he's pursing his lips and blinking away tears as he looks down at your hands. You resist the urge to say you’re sorry. You’re not sure what for. The terrible feral hunger in you gone as quick as it's come.

Namjoon’s fingers wrap around the hollow of your knees, and you meet his eyes, even though you don’t want to. It feels too much like a confession already.

“I’m going to say this now, before you get any ideas; This is not your fault and I am not mad at you and Tae for doing what you did-”

“Namjoon-”

He continues on, words rushing out. “I’m proud of you pup, so proud. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here. I promise I won’t disappoint you again as pack alpha-” You cover his mouth with your hand, gauze and all.

The bit of gauze over your palm is already turning bloody. It's hard to tell if it's your blood or if it's his. You’re the last one to shower. The last one to get clean. Namjoon shouldn’t be touching you at all.

And yet he does, yet he cradles your face, brushes the tears from your cheeks, gets blood on his hands. Evidence is evidence, but love has a steeper sort of price if you don't express it when you can.

When you take your hand away, Namjoon doesn’t try to speak again. someone says something that you don't hear, that you can't hear.

Namjoon stands and when you look up, Jungkook has the shower door open for you.

Because the bandages and the glue on your hands can’t get wet Namjoon binds your hands with Ziplock bags and duct tape. The plastic rustles, and you follow Hobi's bloody footprints into Jungkook’s arms. Namjoon closes the door behind you.

Every bit of plastic is going to get melted down later, until all the blood and terror evaporates through something as simple and trivial as fire. Fire will cleanse it of all evidence, as sure as the burning water you step under.

You're not quite sure what you're going to do about the bullet holes in the walls or the blown-apart door to the upstairs bedroom, but Yoongi’s always had a handle on the home improvement stuff.

Jungkook helps you disrobe off your bloodied clothing. Lifting your shirt over your head and stooping, telling you to hold onto his shoulders so that he can take off your sweatpants. You're pretty sure they're Yoongi's but there's no time to get sentimental as he puts them inside a garbage bag along with Tae's and Hobi's clothes.

Everything on your person is evidence. When you look back Namjoon's gone, summoned by Jin's distant call from downstairs. It's just Jimin outside of the shower. watching you, but mostly watching Tae.

You’d be more self-conscious of your nude body if your brain wasn’t still racing. It’s hard to do much with the bags on your hands. But Jungkook squirts out a healthy dollop of your favorite shampoo and gets to work once the conditioner is in Tae’s hair. She sits like a discarded ball-jointed doll on the built-in bench. Her long hair hair stuck like a sheet over her eyes.

Nothing is as important as making sure you’re not found out. And the frothy shampoo turns rusty around Jungkook's fingers. You have to have a lot of blood on your face. All the water that rolls off of you goes pink.

Jungkook is gentle even by your hairline scratching against your scalp with his fingers. The skin there is tender. Namjoon taped a bit of gauze over the sutures too. You don't remember when he did that.

You make a noise. “Too rough?” his voice has something unreadable in it, something soft and concerned.

You don't respond because Yoongi makes his reappearance at the doorway. The black shirt he wears is dusty at the front from the concrete. His eyes single focused on you the second he enters the room. You stare at him the way that Tae stares at Jimin. Jungkook just huffs and pulls you a little more snugly against his chest.

Tae stands in the corner of the shower, still staring at Minnie. Minnie who stares back, practically not blinking. Both of their anguish are hidden behind glass. Like fish in tanks that could never get out. Not really.

Part of Tae gets washed away down the drain. Swirling and gurgling down and down with no one to notice.

Tae stares off blankly into space. Sometimes Jimin talks to her and sometimes he hums through the glass, he'd be in there too if his bandages couldn't get wet either. If Namjoon hadn’t yanked him back from the doorway and told him that he couldn't.

Jungkook takes the boar bristle brush to your body too. Everything has to be scrubbed multiple times until your skin feels nearly raw from it. Tae’s fingernails, her arms, your neck, the side of your face, the hollow at the inside of your arms. Your knees. Everywhere.

He apologizes when he goes over bruises, wincing, clutching you a little tighter, a little closer to make up for the pain. But Jungkook is meticulous as he cleans of evidence until you feel groomed clean. Until there’s no more blood swirling down the drain just clear water, and the light outside has turned pearly and blue in the twilight.

Tae's still silent. She's been quiet beyond the occasional heartbreaking whimper since you both killed that man. Eventually, You push at Jungkook's hands with a pointed look in her direction where she's slumped and he goes with a soft nod. Two omega's taking care of their alphas.

Jungkook’s delicate with Tae’s head, gentle in the way he cradles the bruising, half hidden by her hair. Washing out the conditioner with a quiet hum. Namjoon had diagnosed her with a concussion pretty quickly, it's not a crack in her skull plate but she's not going to go putting her hair up in a bun any time soon.

Jungkook alternates from you to Tae. One moment you're standing, the next Jungkook is taking you up gently from the floor and Yoongi is at the glass, hand on the door- looking at you anxiously. Letting out a volley of cursing. You can't remember the last time you heard him use language like that.

"Hyung she's fine- she's just slippery, I've got her."

Their voices are so soft and grave and so quiet. Or is it just that you can’t hear it? Why are their voices so far away and muffled? Sometimes Yoongi is here and sometimes he isn't. Sometimes Jungkook is holding you, talking to Namjoon about something, and other times he and Yoongi are talking. Keeping their voices low. Your ears ring. It's so loud it deafening.

“Do you need me to take over?” Yoongi asks Jungkook. Jungkook has blood on his feet, from you or Tae you’re not sure, it soaks the hair there. Jungkook’s got hairy fucking feet for an omega- you’re not sure why you’re concentrating on it. Why you’re noticing all these things now. Cataloging little things about them like you might never get the chance to notice them again.

Your heart beats quick, fear still consuming you even though the danger has passed. You look down at the tiled floor and the room spins.

You don’t feel a thing when you close your eyes. You don’t feel anything when you think of the man that you just killed. You don’t feel anything but roaring, like the crashing of the ocean or the sound when you lift your ear to a shell. The hearing in your left ear where the gun went off feels…off, muffled. You put your hand up to toy with it and freeze when you realize it isn't right.

"Guys" You paw at your ear. But they don't seem to hear you.

"No, I've got them.”

“We need to clean up the downstairs. Kookie, where do you keep the oxyclean?”

"Guys"

They still don't hear you. Maybe you're not making a sound at all just mouthing the words. Your movement gets Tae's attention and her eyes focus for the first time in hours. Slumped on the bench, her hand grips the tiled edge hard as she tries to stand but can't. Jungkook hands Yoongi something through the steam, the black trash bag full of bloody clothes.

The notice Tae trying to get to you first. she hits the floor with a small thud and tugs her way over to you. You make a noise in your throat- a distressed chirp that makes the alphas flinch. Tae cups your cheek as you dig your finger in, slippery from the plastic- and pull something small and fleshy out of your ear.

It's soft and squishy. A curved piece of pink and white brain matter. A little bloody but bleached from the water.

You try to stand to your feet but teeter, shaking, staring down at the chunk of person that you just got out of you, that was just in you.

For a second, no one says anything, but then-

“That’s so fucking gnarly.” Your head jerks up in Jungkook’s direction.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Tae actually does look a little green, but it's good to hear her voice at the very least. She hauls herself over to the drain and starts to dry heave.

"Oh tae don't-" the sound of vomit hitting the floor joins the sound of the shower. You don't look at her. just at the lump of person in your hand.

"Someone please take it from me," Jimin is already there opening the glass door and holding out a cloth for you to place it in.

Yoongi presses his hands to the glass as he watches you struggle to grab the brush that Jungkook was using on you from the floor after finally getting your feet under you. Jungkook is torn, his hand on Tae's shoulder as she wretches turning from her to you like he doesn't know what to do or who to help first.

You don't care about the state of your hands you just need to get clean. You Ignore the twinge of pain in your hands as you try and get the bottle of body wash open. Ripping off the plastic bags that cover your hands when you can't unclick the cap immediately. frustrated and panicking. You ignore Jimin calling your name. The gauze falls to the floor with a wet thwack and you take the boar bristle brush to your hands. Cuts and all.

Big hands stop you. Hands that dwarf yours. Hands that you'd know blind.

Yoongi's standing under the spray fully clothed, the water pinning down his hair and quickly soaking him. His hands tangling with yours, taking the brush from you. Wordless as he grabs your wrists and jerks you forward hard.

He holds on until you stop shaking. resting against his chest. guiding your face to his scent gland. "Take a deep breath for me now sweetheart- there you go- just like that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything and neither does Jimin, not as Yoongi starts to wash you again. Jungkook just stoops to lift Tae and place her back on the bench. She goes easy, limp, and doll-like. But she's almost done- she's almost clean. Tae pushes at Jungkook’s shoulders.

"I’m fine. I need to wait for the nausea to pass before I try getting out of here.”

With you, it's going to take a little longer.

Jungkook has already shampooed your hair, but he does it again. The telltale signs of rusty red in the peach-scented shampoo. Bubbling orange-pink. Yoongi does it slower, gentler- it feels more normal. Like the slow loving you're used to.

“Do you ever feel like-” your voice is a little crackly from all the screaming you did earlier. You hate how the terror makes you not remember all the details. Did you make any sound while you killed him? Did you say anything through the rage?

The others are looking at you but you have eyes for just Jimin. his hand tightens to fists, knuckles pressed against the glass. eyes darkening ever so slightly. “Do you ever not feel guilty? About killing people Minnie?”

You are nude, as bare as you’ve ever been before him, it's hard to be self-conscious about it. Maybe this would be a little sexier- showering with Tae and Jungkook and Yoongi with an audience if you weren't literally trying to cover up a very violent murder.

You remember the words Jimin had said to you weeks ago now. “Would you kill for me?” “I’d do worse” you wonder if this qualifies as worse. You can’t imagine what would be much worse than this.

Jungkook's hands are rough as they massage a bit of soap down your back but instead of being comforting, it feels like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin.

Jimin hums. Eyeing Tae still sprawled on the built-in bench. Jimin gathers his thoughts before he speaks. “In my contract, at the beginning-” He starts but cuts off as you start to slip. Jungkook's hands find you, helping Yoongi hold you up more properly. Your mate doesn't let Jungkook take you entirely just moves a bit to the side to give him space. Any other day you'd love to be in the middle of a yoonkook sandwich but-

“Your contract?” he nods, blond hair bobbing. Yoongi meticulously removes the dried blood from under your fingernails, careful to hold your glue sutures out of the direct spray.

“I specified that I’d only ever kill bad people. of course I got a little lazier after I got used to it." He shoots an anxious glance in Tae's direction, but she's still just sitting. "But at the beginning, I’d go back and look through their files to try to find out what they’d done to warrant a hit getting taken out on them. I couldn’t always find a reason but most of the time I did."

You can see it in his face, that Jimin doesn't want to say that they deserved it. Because if they deserved a violent ending then you could say the same about the 8 of you. Jungkook's hands get a little close to the nape of your neck and you turn to him and snap.

"Don't scruff me."

"Sorry." You need it. Is what he doesn't say.

“Most of the time it was worth it?” You cling to his words. With Geumjae you’d never had to guess if he deserved it or not but this-

Jimin’s eyebrows are brought into a hard line, “Karma is a fickle thing. Sometimes it never comes but-” his eyes are downcast, "Sometimes it's a good thing, being the karma."

You sit quietly, digesting his words. Your lower lip trembles, and you don’t know if you feel terrible or better when the tears just won’t come. Yoongi delicately cradles your body, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pulling you back against his chest.

“Yoongi.”

“Let me hold you for a minute.” You do, body sagging under the weight of your exhaustion.

Tae teeters in Jungkook’s hold, but she pushes against his hands weakly when he tries to make her stand again. Her voice sounds warbly and fragile when she shakes her head. “I’m still dizzy.”

He tries to guide her gently back to the bench, but she doesn't make it that far. Pushing away his hands when she descends to the marble floor. Closer to the wall, Closer to Minnie who mirrors her, falling to the floor too. Getting as closer to her as he can without being in the shower.

Jimin lets out a sad and bitter-sounding laugh and Tae smiles in reply while Jungkook and Yoongi share an anxious glance over your head.

He's still grinning, words twisting, eyes shining with sorrow and fondness. “You couldn’t wait 24 hours until you had to make it even, didn’t you?”

Tae closes her eyes as her smile twists and she starts to cry “Where you go, I go. We’re the same now Minnie.” Jimin doesn't mean to ask what she means. He knows.

If you're a killer I'm a killer. If you're damned, I'm damned. Even though neither of them believes in God or heaven or damnation. Not really. Not anymore. It's very half-hearted.

(I don't know if it's worth wondering if the people you love are bad people, I think when worse comes to worse, you just put the heaviness down and keep on loving them anyway).

Jimin’s eyes are soft on her, the way that they only ever are with Tae. He places his hand on the glass fogging around his fingertips. She doesn’t match his hands, just leans her cheek against it. Love is only a thin layer of glass away.

You know it hurts her a little bit, must make the dysphoria a little harder to breathe through, to let Jimin and Jungkook see her like this; just the long hair and nothing delicate to cloth her soul in. A soul that now you’ve irreparably tarnished.

A soul that is damaged beyond repair now thanks to you.

It is your fault. All of this is because of you. all of this pain and anguish and damage is because of the choices you've made. the stupid idiotic childish choices. If you'd never needed it- if you'd just been strong enough- Tae could have been whole. Tae could have been unharmed. Hobi and Jin too- if you’d just-

Back at the hospital, Tae had so many questions about Jimin’s job, so many questions about when and where, and why. But she finds her head empty of them in the aftermath. She has no desire to learn anything else about Jimin’s job. Not now that she knows what killing feels like.

Tae is never going to be able to look at red nail polish the same way again.

Jungkook reaches over and turns off the water.

~-~

Eventually, you finish washing. Wrapped up in fluffy white towels that will have to be burned too. The house smells like bleach and gunpowder. It covers everything.

Even the noodle is looking a little more grubby than usual when he zips by, meowing for someone to give him attention. You hear the saw going and you know that Yoongi is cutting the bullet holes out of the walls while the others clean up the blood.

Your skin feels pink and sensitive were the towel brushes as you go looking for pajamas, you'll get some for the others too. Later, Jin will fuss and ask to put some cream on you. Will massage it in something of an apology and pretend that Yoongi isn't going over the whole house with a blacklight to spot any errant blood splatters.

Later Yoongi will take a wood scraper to the floorboards where the man died, will rip them up, and burn them in the house's ancient fireplace just to be sure that no one finds any evidence.

You'll all pretend that Tae doesn't shake through a panic attack when you have an informal dinner in the nest. jin's rule of "no food in the nest" broken for this. You'll all pretend that Hoseok won't choke choking on all but the smallest sips of water. You'll all pretend. You're good pretenders, good liars too.

Later, Jin will put cream on your skin and dot it all with kisses, the swelling in his hands won't take too long to go down. You'll get the love and You won’t deserve a single second of it.

You don't know how you fooled yourself into thinking you ever deserved it. The last 8 months have been stolen. Not earned.

The one-year anniversary of Geumjae's death comes and passes as you go to the top of the stairs in your towel, Ears straining to hear what's going on downstairs.

There is a lot of talking going on downstairs, between Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jin. About what to do, and how to handle this. Hushed voices kept mostly out of earshot. And other more dangerous questions get asked, with equally as dangerous answers.

One of Jimin's guns sits on the kitchen counter through all of it. No one moves to put it away. They're not sure when they're next going to need it and they'd rather not get caught off guard again.

“I could talk to some people- call them. Some people owe me favors, There has to be some section of the family that doesn’t want her too-“

"Absolutely Not, I am not having you get into some weird ass mafia debt"

"Yeah, jailcell orange is so not your color hyung"

“We stay quiet. For the next 48 hours- it’s likely no one will know what happened. They’re too hurt- we need some time to regroup and think.”

Hobi’s voice is absent from the fray. You hear something quite like he's trying to speak, and someone shushing him softly. Namjoon says that his swelling won’t go down enough to talk until tomorrow. You hear the sound of someone opening the refrigerator to get ice.

The door to the bedroom has been blown apart, and a flurry of bullet holes chewed through the top corner. It sits off its hinges and in two pieces.

You remember watching Yoongi paint the door, sitting at the bottom of the stairs while he worked at the top of it and painted it to match the wallpaper in the staircase, a dark cobalt blue. You remember all of it, every little thing you watched him do to make this house into something worthwhile. To make it into a home and now it's riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood.

It's funny, you hardly remember every little thing he did for you, to make you worthwhile.

You have always been a reminder that you don't make houses out of abandoned buildings, and mates out of monsters that bite.

The water has turned the cuts on your hands white and gummy when you look down at them in the closet room. They’re already oozing, not bleeding, it will be at least a day or two until you can touch anything without discomfort. Namjoon will scold you ever so gently later and re-do your bandages.

The pink curtains are drawn already to keep out any wandering eyes from the outside. This is a dressing room after all. The whole room feels like a blush-toned jewel box and you, the one piece of cheap costume jewelry at the center.

You get up and shut the door before you sit on a small poof- something silky and tufted that Jimin had gotten Tae right after she'd come out.

You sit in your towel and look down at your wounds. Thinking about Tae's concussion. Jin's wrists. Hobi's throat. Both of their blank looks and the violence of death and trying to live. You think it all through, every possible ending to this before you pick up your phone and dial Her number.

Moonbyul picks up on the first ring. It’s like she’s been waiting for your call.

“Did you like your courting present pup?”

Your throat is dry and you don’t know exactly what to say, even less how to say it. She hums at your silence, an alpha's imitation of a purr. Waiting until your quietness builds to a frantic pulse.

In the pack, you've always been the one with the best survival instincts. Geumjae made you this way. Although the pack has spent the last few months trying to heal you; deep down you know you've never been anything more than a scared animal. Fight or Flight. Freeze or fawn.

Bullet to bullet. Tooth to tooth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. This time is different. This time you have something worth protecting.

You stand, no longer able to sit. There is a noise at the door, and you wait with bated breath for someone to come in. They don't come. But you stand and move farther inside. Hoping that the distance will disguise the sound of your whispered conversation.

She continues when it becomes clear you're struggling to speak. “I’ve got another one on the way. Hyejin’s here, wanna say hello? You’re on speaker.”

“Pup,” she giggles, and you feel like you might vomit. It’s a struggle really, not to end the call right there, not to let the fear overtake you. “We haven’t heard back from Spider yet, and I have a feeling someone’s been a little naughty.”

You lift the curtain to look outside, the train chugs past and the cars flit by like the fast small birds searching for seed in the snow. The whole world is grey and flat. The sky is orange from the lights of the city reflecting the clouds. The trees bare of all but a few crumbly leaves. It’s strange how all at once, the train is all you can look at. All you can think about.

You think about hoseok, the night at the train tracks where he stopped you from leaving. When he asked you to stay.

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you to stop this, please.” Your voice sounds off, even for you. Too flat, strange even to your ears.

“I’m afraid we’re too far along for that.”

"Please, please Moonbyul-" You turn, pacing back towards the door. Past Tae’s clothes, past yours, past Jungkook’s, past the alcove where Hobi hangs his sweatshirts for you. You pause there. Looking at them.

“You said- you said when it was over you’d give me anything I wanted. Well I want them alive. Even if-"

Your voice is so shaky, you're careful to make sure you're not overheard. The pack is in the other room, just downstairs. You can hear the distant hum of their sweet voices; the people you love always sound like a melody. Your absence hasn’t been noticed yet.

"Even if I’m not here.”

For once they’re silent on the other end of the line. It’s a full silence, filled with one part lust and one part hunger. Both of them are like Noodle playing with a mouse. Waiting for the right time to drive their teeth in and end this game.

But even mice have teeth. Your hand is holding your phone so hard that the plastic makes your bones ache and your cuts bleed fresh.

“If you don’t let them live, I'll never stop fighting. But if you want me to be willing- If you want me to be your pup the way I think you do."

You can’t even close your hand into a fist with how wrecked your hands are. They hurt with every clumsy movement. you hold the phone. Your every heartbeat lurching with the horror of what you're doing.

I can’t lose them; I can’t be the reason why they die. They'll keep sending people until we're all dead unless I do something.

“All of them, all of them need to be safe, Jimin- you need to let him go of his contract and let him go back to living a normal life and you need to not punish Jin for working for the FBI.” Your words rush over themselves. "Leave my pack alone and I’ll be obedient. I'll be yours. I’ll never try and go back to them again. I won’t ever try and leave. I promise.”

Moonbyul and Hyejin are silent on the other end of the phone. You wait for a few moments. They must be looking at each other, deliberating.

Everything in this room aches. The closet bedroom that Yoongi made he made for you. The wainscotting just so. Everything in this house was crafted with an equal amount of love.

It was never meant to be yours forever, you’ve been keenly aware of this fact since the moment you met Yoongi. Since the moment you met his eyes across the dining room table and the moment his teeth met your skin. Borrowed things don't belong, they never do. Good things do not last. You only get them for as long as you get them and not a moment longer.

You're looking at Hobi's sweatshirts, in the alcove where he stacks them for you to take when Moonbyul and Hyejin respond.

“We'll agree to those terms, but remember their safety depends on your performance."

"You have 24 hours to get to us pup. Make them count.”

The dial tone drones like a funeral drum.

~-~

(Hoseok, a few years prior)

The backroom at the record shop is cramped with all sorts of things from a bygone era;

A mini fridge with a decrepit desktop computer and logbook balanced atop it. Pictures and bulletins glued to the wall from the 1960's. A greasy coffee machine piled high with bags of expired tea. A cramped spot for employees to hang their coats and a yellowing old table with a pair of chairs; both occupied by people also out of place. a beta that has a thing for 1980's rap and an alpha with a broken heart who admittedly loves 2010's pop.

A poster of some glittery showgirl omega from the 20s bats her eyelashes down at Hoseok as he has a mental breakdown. Offering neither comfort nor absolution nor love.

Maybe if he'd been born an omega like that, it would have been easier. Maybe they'd have wanted him then.

Yoongi's hands rub down Hoseok's shoulder, his back, places only lovers have touched. Up and down. An endless circle. An ouroboros of affection nibbling Hoseok's fickle heart. Hoseok aches harder with every passing moment.

Yoongi looks at the clock as Hoseok continues to sob. The shop should be open right now but Yoongi won't let it. It can go out of business for all he cares. As long as no one makes Hoseok get up from this chair before he's ready.

Beta instincts are fickle things, but Yoongi has always had a third sense. Something in him always knows if people are trustworthy and if they need him. Something in their scents or faces or eyes- like small planets reflecting the cosmos back to them. Do planets bear life only when someone is willing to look for them? Do people only deserve help when they're willing to ask for it? or is it like this?

Eventually, Hoseok gets his breath back in his chest and his sobs quiet down. His eyes open bloodshot. All sadness has an expiration date (thankfully). Yoongi's hand slides down his arm and gives his hand a firm squeeze (and stays there).

It's the first time someone's touched Hoseok without wanting something in God knows how long but he's too sad to properly appreciate it or savor it. (Yoongi doesn't want anything from him that Hoseok wouldn't willingly give. Doesn't want anything but his smile. fuck- he's just a co-worker, isn't he?). Who knows when the next touch like this might come? (Yoongi is going to hold his hand tomorrow because Yoongi likes holding people's hands, Jin will give him the tacit permission to do that at least. But all of the pack are keenly aware that Hoseok needs time to heal, no matter how obvious Yoongi's crush and Hoseok's needs).

(Hoseok is definitely not just Yoongi's coe-worker at this point, but saviors come from all sorts of unlikely places)

Eventually Hoseok's sobs quiet and Yoongi sighs, pulling back. He takes one look at hoseok's red nose and pale cheeks and puffs up. "I'm making your hot chocolate and you're going to tell me what's happened."

He gets up like he needs something to do. Like he's tired of taking care of Hoseok. He doesn't take it personally, he's tired of it too.

“My mates they- they kicked me out of our den,” Hoseok confesses. Yoongi's got two mugs in his hands, they thud against the counter when he reaches into one of the cabinets.

It’s warm in here but Hoseok is still thankful for the sweatshirt the beta gave him. Not only for its warmth but for the layer of scent it provides; It’s soaked with the smell of chocolate. So comforting and heavenly that it makes Hoseok a little dizzy when he tucks his nose into it and takes a hefty sniff when Yoongi's got his back turned.

Hoseok was never given the other pack's items, never allowed or encouraged to indulge in their scents. They never asked for his either.

Yoongi hangs both their jackets above the radiator in the back so that they’ll dry faster. He bears an impressive bite mark on his arm, visible because of his short-sleeved shirt. It's bruised just ever so slightly- an alpha bite but not a mating bite because betas don't mate. A mark like that on him is as good a claim as any. Even with the other scents that cling to the sweatshirt.

Hoseok hasn’t known him long, but they’re friends even if they’ve never met up outside of work. You can't not be friends with someone you spend upwards of 30 hours a week with.

Yoongi just hums. "Have you been with them long?"

Hoseok appreciates that Yoongi doesn't use the past tense, his heart too tender around the idea of endings. Some part of him is unconvinced that it really is over. A stubborn heart for a stubborn alpha.

His hair is starting to dry when he nods. "It's been a few years." Hoseok bites his lip, "I could lie and say I didn't see signs but-" his hands end up in his hair, elbows leaning against the creaking yellow table. Tugging a little. "I'm so fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," Yoongi says, hand on the back of his head. warm rough fingers. Touching him ever so briefly as he passes to put the milk back in the mini-fridge. "It's not stupid to want to find more love where you got it."

But in truth, There's not much more than Yoongi can say. Not much more that he knows to say. He'd never met Hoseok's pack. Whereas Namjoon and Jimin and the pups have a general tendency to linger around Yoongi person at all hours and locations. Stopping by to drop off coffee or just to make funny faces at him through the window when they're on their way to work. Yoongi has never met his co-worker's pack and has never seen much evidence at all on him beyond some vague hints of scents.

That alone is enough of a hint; usually, when people have packmates they're soaked in their scents. Visceral claims to keep any wandering eyes wandering still. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wondered why Hoseok didn't wear his packmate's scents.

It’s not like the alpha smells bad at all- a little strong sure, but less genetically dominant alphas tend to smell a little sweeter like omegas.

At least that’s what Namjoon says when he feels like info dumping. Late at night when the pack asleep around them and only Yoongi's stayed up to listen. Because Yoongi likes the sound of Namjoon's voice when he gets into the details. Stroking across Namjoon’s bare chest just to feel the alpha's words rumble against his fingertips. His heartbeat against his ear the backtrack for all of it.

Whoever Yoongi’s pack is; they surely love him a lot. That much has been evident since the second that Hoseok met him. Evident in the packed bento boxes and the bunny-eyed omega that walks with him to work sometimes. Or in the tall omega and alpha pair that Hoseok has seen perusing the shelves when he comes in to relieve Yoongi of his shift.

Hoseok has worked here for 6 months. It’s impossible not to collect these details. The hickeys on his throat that he wears after weekends, how ruffled but generally loved Yoongi looks when he comes back from rut and heat leave.

“Is there a reason why they left?” Yoongi tries to be as undiscerning as possible. Voice gentle and measured. Stirring the hot cocoa and putting it in front of Hoseok.

Hoseok takes a sip and it feels like he's drinking a cup of the beta in front of him. Yoongi melts a little into the chair at the happy noise Hoseok makes.

It's good. Really good actually, Yoongi uses twice as much Swiss mix as the package instructs and a tablespoon of honey to boot. More chocolate can never be a bad thing.

Before Hoseok has a chance to respond, The phone next to the cabinet rings. And Yoongi takes it off the stand and hangs it up again in quick secession so that it doesn’t ring anymore. It has to be important but he ignores it for Hoseok's sake. Yoongi does a lot of ordering for the shop, the rare records that their boss is always trying to source and sell. It's a lot of chasing down leads and curators.

(This is not true. This is a lie that Yoongi and his boss have fed him. This phone is set up for the family's use. Hoseok doesn’t know that most of the calls Yoongi answers are more delicate than just simple stock orders.)

“I just found out that my brother has stolen from me, what should his punishment be beta?”

“How much did he steal?”

“300k”

Yoongi swallows, fighting his narrow margin of benevolence. The drops of mercy that he's allowed to show without suspicion. He tells himself that the other beta would order a far worse. People only call him when they want lighter punishment.

“A finger for every 100 then.”

The people who call ask him all manner of things. Things like “I think my child might be planning on going to the police, what should I do before anyone finds out about it?” He is both a secret keeper and a jury.

“Send them away. Out of sight and out of mind of anything that they might be able to share. I hear the military academies are lovely this year. So much snow. Yes, they take omega recruits.”

“My firstborn child presented as an omega instead of an alpha. They're my firstborn and heir, how should I proceed?”

“I can ask around for an advantageous match but I’m sorry, there is no fixing presentation.”

Hoseok hasn’t seen a phone like that in years. Didn’t even know they made old-fashioned ones like that anymore. Ones with a dial, the blue plastic worn from the number of times Yoongi's had to pick it up. It doesn't stay silent for long, ringing soon after yoongi's hung it up.

“I'm the only- they’re an all-omega group.” As if by the mention of his sub gender Hoseok’s angry burning sugar scent fills the room. In reply, Yoongi’s sweetness rises. Hoseok takes another sip and pretends it's just the hot chocolate warming his cheeks. “I guess they wanted to keep it that way.”

"I've got two omegas and they keep me on my toes, I can't imagine four." That gets a laugh out of Hoseok.

"You've got a bunch of alphas in yours though, right?" A bunch already, I wouldn't be needed. Hoseok has seen them, the tall one with dimples that looks like something out of a soap opera. The scary-looking one with the chubby cheeks who's always holding hands with the pretty academic one who likes the jazz in the corner.

Yoongi nods, "That must be nice," Hoseok's eyelashes are all clumped together from the tears. "Having so many people to take care of you."

Yoongi hums, knuckles brushing Hoseok’s hand on the table. It’s just one tender touch but Hoseok starts to break. To crumple.

Yoongi senses Hoseok breaking, pulling him in close before he has a chance to really fracture (he comes just in time, Yoongi loves Hoseok just in time). Yoongi’s scent alone is enough to soothe him- beyond the way he guides the alpha to rest against his throat. Hoseok fights it only a little, what's a little scenting among friends?

They're not just friends, it's not just scenting.

Hoseok wants to bury his nose in the beta’s throat, but that wouldn’t be appropriate, not with the scent of so many others clinging to him. He still sags into the hug. Turns his face away to avoid the temptation.

“They didn’t even tell me- and now the lease on the apartment is up and I can’t afford it on my own and-“ I’m so scared and I just wish there was someone to take care of me. I wish I was a pup again.

They sit like that at the table and Yoongi just lets him cry, He pulls back after his sobbing has cooled. They hug until they both smell like gooey chocolate chip cookies with too much brown sugar.

Hoseok sniffles, “We have to open up the shop,” Yoongi's arms tighten around Hoseok's shoulders in reply.

“It can wait a few more seconds.” Hoseok wants to say that the owner wouldn’t like that but he doesn’t.

Yoongi sips and hesitates. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?” Hoseok pauses for a second, flushing before he shakes his head. “Okay, it's okay. You can say with me.”

“Are- are you sure they won't mind?” But Yoongi is already typing away on his phone, shooting a quick text to the pack group chat (a chat that Hoseok will be added to in exactly 23 days, but who's counting?)

“Not at all. It’s a bit cramped with all of us but we have a spare bed in the closet room that Tae likes to read on sometimes- Jungkook's boss slept there last night after they came back from drinking and Namjoon was so mad- he won't be mad about you though- it's just that Jungkook- he just really shouldn't be drinking."

"Is he underaged?"

"No, he's just got health issues."

"Oh." Yet another person who gets the love he needs, the care he needs. Hoseok tries and fails miserably not to be jealous over Yoongi's omega whom he's never met.

He won't be jealous for long. Later Jungkook is going to challenge him to an arm wrestle just to prove he doesn't need babying. Beating alphas in feats of strength is his favorite thing. He'll feel Hoseok’s hand in his and get completely distracted. "Wow, you've got like- really pretty hands!" and drag them close to his to compare sizes. He'll be smitten nearly instantly with Jungkook- for what it's worth. The jealousy only lasts for a few hours.

Within a few seconds his phone is ringing off the hook, he shows Hoseok the chorus of, “Yes it’s okay!” and “Poor thing, tell him he can stay as long as he wants.” "Of course hyung!" "Does Hoseok like kimchi-jjigae or should we just order pizza?" “Oh! Can we get some with pineapple?” “Gross Jk.” "Yeah we all know Minnie doesn't like the aftertaste of burnt fruit."

And Hoseok can't help but feel like he doesn’t deserve this kindness and such an effortless acceptance. There is a knock at the front door before he can say anything. A few short taps against the glass. Yoongi tells Hoseok to stay put while he goes to deal with a pushy customer who wants in. Leaving him alone in the backroom with his cooling hot coco and the poster still staring down at him.

(They say two can keep a secret if one of them is dead, but that's not the only way a secret stays buried; the best secrets are the ones you’re not even aware of.

Out of all the people in your pack. Hoseok is the only one in possession of a secret like this. The best kinds of secrets are the ones you don't even know are secrets see- he doesn't even know that this memory is enough to save you. Hoseok is entirely unaware that in his mind lies this memory.

Hoseok was the first person to get on the no-kill list, and it wasn’t because of Yoongi.

All packmates of a Don get put on the list;

no matter if they're active or past.)

Sitting at that yellowing wood table; Hoseok feels more settled now that he knows he has a place to sleep tonight that isn’t this backroom. Pulling the sleeve of Yoongi’s sweatshirt over his palms and sniffing at the collar where it was pushed up against Yoongi’s scent gland.

If he thinks hard, he can pick out a few scents here and there soaking the fabric. (Milky Omega Jin, Honey Sweet Puppy Jungkookie, Cinnamon sweet Alpha Tae and vanil-lalalala Jimin, Coffee Alpha Namjoon and Chocolate Yoongi).

It's so different from his ex-pack's scents. Their sugary sweet omega peppermint and sharp lemony evergreen, winter berry and pine, the cold smart of snow against his nose. His burning caramel scent- so off-putting. The one scent not Christmas-themed. The one that didn’t fit.

By comparison- Yoongi's pack smells like a bakery in summer. Every scent that could be added to a cake maybe (one day, in the kitchen, he’ll eat your tiramisu and realize yes- that’s exactly what it’s missing. Your cakey scent makes them all complete, the warmth of baking things).

He has somewhere to go now. Somewhere to be. Someone to trust. He trusts Yoongi- even if they’ve only known each other for a handful of short months.

And Yoongi’s pack can’t be worse than his last one.

As if in reply to Yoongi’s phone (buzzing with more texts that he doesn't check because Hoseok is nothing if not respectful of people's digital privacy. If he checked he would see "Is that the hot coworker you're always talking about? The one who always looks a little sad?")

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with the notification he's been waiting for.

Pack Omega 🌙 calling.

Pick up? Decline?

Hoseok hasn't yet gotten around to changing her contact information. He scrambles at it, spilling the hot cocoa across the table as he rushes to pick it up. Scrambling to get to it before it goes to voice mail. Blood pounding in his ears.

Hoseok’s voice is broken as he says his pack omega’s name, his old pack omega’s name.

“Byulyi- Moonbyul please-”

Moonbyul is cold on the other side of the phone. Maybe she’d have liked him more, and wouldn’t have given up on him if he didn't beg. But Hoseok has never been above begging. Not for love. Not for the thing he wants and needs the most. Hoseok needs love more than air and as Yoongi said- it's easiest to go looking for love where you once got it.

Even when you know it could hurt you.

Her voice is flat and unaffected. “I just wanted to make sure you found a place to stay tonight. Are you still going to be around to give the landlord the keys?”

Hoseok finds himself nodding even though he knows she can’t see him. “Yes- I can do that, I can do anything you want. Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Moonbyul please-”

“Goodbye Hoseok.” She says, hanging up after a second. Hoseok looks at the phone. Pushing the button to redial. It doesn't go. She’s already blocked him.

It will be a long time until Hoseok hears from his last pack again, a long long time until he says their names again. He will remember the way he’d begged, the way her name had sounded smack dab in the middle of it. And hate hate Hate how it makes him feel. He won't ever say their names, regret and self-disgust getting in the way.

It's a little funny, thinking of how different things might have gotten if he'd just told yoongi their names. If he hadn't let his alpha pride get in the way. A few days from now they'll talk about it together. "I don't like the way saying their names makes me feel- it feels- I hate how much I want to say it- to see them again- saying their names just reminds me of the power they had over me."

Never again, will Jung Hoseok beg for someone to give him the bare minimum. This is his lowest point. The moment where it shifts- for good.

His head is in his hands when Yoongi comes back into the room. Still sniffling, crying yet again. Yoongi sets a palm in his hair, ruffling it. Eyeing the spilled hot cocoa with a raised eyebrow.

“If you wanted coffee you could have just said so-“ he makes an attempt at levity and is rewarded with Hoseok’s small snort. Wiping his wet cheeks. Neither of them is aware of the secret. Neither of them is aware and so much worse off for it."

Hoseok grins, “Are you buying hyung?”

~-~

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Notes:

in the story there has always been this question- mainly raised by jimin during his secret chapters- if the m/c is actually in love with them or if she's just manipulating them- at the beginning of this chapter- we actually see jimin finally dispel the last bit of him that thinks even a little bit that this is the case. once he sees how much she put her body on the line- that question isn't even in the back of his mind- even a little. i ended up re-editing this part alot because of it.

every time i write something from jimin's pov i'm always like "why is everything so meandering? why are things disjointed?" and then i remember that's literally jimin's character- that he is in a lot of ways an unreliable narrator.

(TW) i have this idea in my head that namjoon DOES NOT become a good person in the event that all of them die like- a whole separate idea of him becoming a doctor for the family through yoongi's connections with the soul purpose of one day killing moonbyul and her entire pack…including their pups on accident which ends up destroying the last bit of namjoon's innocence as a person…and he ends up becoming one of the families assassins alongside jimin as a result, in this event jungkook does not stay with them and instead moves on and yoongi stays and tries to get them to stop only to ask them to kill him as their last kill because he's unable to cope with the loss of jin, hobi, the m/c and tae. BUT ANYWAY I DIGRESS THAT IS NOT THIS STORY.

i think in this story there is this really interesting dynamic of femininity and death and morality- that being said red nail polish is definitely a metaphor for whose comfortable killing and who isn't. i like the contrast between tae who will never wear red nails again- vs the moon pack who all are not allowed out of the nest if their nailpolish isn't perfect like- thats another layer of the fucked up shit.

are you suprised that the m/c is going to leave? Did you see it coming from a mile away? i mean...it is in the title of the series 😈

….the parallel between hobi losing his voice and the m/c not having a voice at the beginning of the series- you can project whatever meaning you want onto that <3

also on that subject the line "Jin’s hands. Your face. Tae’s head. Hoseok’s throat. Each of you has lost the thing most necessary to your survival." it's worth mentioning that thats not what i think is the most necessary thing to their survival but it is their own interpretation of what keeps them alive. like i for one actually think that the m/c is a lot more pragmatic than anyone gives her credit for but i digress. i could go on about all of their strenghts.

what did you guys think about hobi's secret reveal???? a fair amount of people have guessed it and i think when someone got it at the beginning of the series i lied and said it wasn't- i'm allowed to be an unreliable narrator too!!! kudos to everyone who got it! i feel like it could have been revealed better and originally the big one off was slated for next chapter but i decided to shift it to this one (mostly because i think the next chapter is about to get up there in terms of word count tbh 😭) but T-T its done now! please give me praise because i'm baby and this week has honestly been really hard

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leviathanspain · 7 months

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fucked my way up to the top

roman roy x reader

synopsis: the recent shroud of attention towards the roys lands a spotlight on you, causing you to question your marriage

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the public didn’t favor you as a roy wife. you were labeled a gold digger, virtually nobody, a poison, a cancer. it didn’t matter that your own family was rich and prosperous. not as public as the roy family was, but respected in their industry.

you had grown up with roman, for a few brief summers at least. neighboring his summer home with your grandfather’s, you’d find yourself sneaking away at odd hours to visit the sullen boy.

after losing touch, you had reconnected with the youngest roy son at a business conference that you had accompanied your father to. he was impossible to shake off after, and soon you found yourself walking down the aisle.

but your relationship behind closed doors was extremely unconventional. in the year you’ve been married to roman, you never had sex. you came close once, on your wedding night, but nothing else since. you understood him the most, and his issues with intimacy. you’d wait around for him as long as he needed, because you loved him.

you loved him more than anyone else in his life, and he didn’t know why.

roman was still roman, in the best way he knew how to be. he’ll make inappropriate comments at you in professional settings, defending it with “she’s my wife!”, or sticking his hands down your pants whenever he got cold. you never really understood his methods, but it was affection nonetheless.

although you had a history with corporate america, you wouldn’t deny that your marriage to roman had sped up your career. only because roman has insisted that you work alongside him. it was either that or not work at all.

so the media, in the raging shit storm that kendall had started, had picked you and your marriage as the weakest link, attacking you in many headlines. twitter had been worse, causing you a mild headache for weeks.

roman had assured you’d that it would all blow over, that as long as you both knew the truth, that nothing else mattered.

but it did. everything mattered.

“hey ro-“ he had answered your call before the second ring. he sounded breathless, but you could hear the bustling office environment over the phone. there was the sound of leather, assuming he moved to sit.

you looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself one last look before walking over to the door, “i just wanted to call and remind you that i’m going out.”

roman made a noise over the phone, “ughhhh- that’s tonight?” he looked at his watch, checking the time, “right. that’s fine, yeah.”

“ro?” you asked, a smile on your face as you heard him hum in response. “i wasn’t asking if it was fine. remember what we talked about?”

roman sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he leaned back in his chair, “that you’re my wife, not my property…”

you laughed, “when you put it like that it sounds awful. whatever roy, i’ll see you later.” he could hear the clicking of the apartment lock, you were already leaving.

“okay, bye bye now sweetie!” he mocked an elderly lady with his tone before hanging up quickly.

on nights you’d go out with friends, roman wouldn’t go home. he would eventually find his way home around two or three am, but only because you’d call to let him know you were going home. there was no point of being home if you weren’t there.

he had done it once, but there had been a pit in his stomach the entire time. as if he was doing something wrong.

he had heard the apartment door click, and his head turned from the random late night news channel to the door. you were standing there, wavering slightly as you stepped forward.

“baby-“ you slurred, and immediately roman stood up. he walked towards you, and a sheet of concern washed over his face. “i’m sorry baby, i know how much you hate it when i drink.” you grabbed onto roman’s shoulder, hand clutching him as you tried to steady yourself.

roman scoffed, “when did i say that?” his tone turned defensive, but mainly confused.

you shrugged, “i know you do.” you let go of him and stepped towards the couch, “you get in that mood.” you had meant to sit down, but you found yourself on your back instead. you closed your eyes, swallowing thickly, “you pull away.” roman scoffed again, “y/n, im right here.” his hand grazed your face as he leaned over you. he rested on the couch’s edge, but you couldn’t keep your eyes on him.

“no- it’s not like that. everytime i want to,” you faltered, and roman inhaled sharply, “it’s like you shut down. and we’ve danced around it for almost a year and-“ your words slurred slightly but roman had understood you perfectly.

“what do you want me to say? hmm? that i don’t want to fuck you?” he got off the couch and stood up, “do you want a divorce? is that it? since we didn’t fuck you can probably get a good deal out of that, you should go fucking try it!” roman didn’t know where this anger was coming from, but he felt it come out like word vomit. and he couldn’t stop.

tears escaped your eyes and you sniffled, feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. “no- i don’t want a divorce, roman.” you shook your head as you cried, wishing the couch could swallow you up.

roman continued to spit more words at you, but you cried harder. “i just want my husband to touch me! i want to be desired- to be loved!” you shouted, words overtaking his.

“i want you every minute of every day. i wake up with you on my mind, even when you’re asleep next to me i want you. i fucking want you, so bad.” his voice dropped and he stared down at you.

you shifted your eyes over to him, and tried to stand up. roman noticed what you were doing and took your hand, pulling you up.

“have me, roman. have me and never let me go.” your arms draped around his neck, pulling him into you. you leaned into him, and kissed him roughly. roman felt himself hitch a breath before pulling away.

“i cant.” your hands dropped from his collar and you stared, speechless. “i want to, y/n. but i-“

you pushed past him, not letting him finish as you tried to stumble towards the door. “you’re a fucking coward.” you slurred, tears muddling your vision. you fumbled for the door handle, “i never want to see you again! you hear me! i hate you!” you stomped a foot as you struggled more for the door. “fuck!” you cried out, feeling defeat and heartbreak wash over you in an instant.

this feeling was crippling. closing your eyes as you slid down in defeat. you couldn’t fight anymore, you didn’t have it in you. your husband didn’t stay to linger, slipping away quietly.

the separation was taking its toll. it was starting to get noticeable to those around you. you had wished for space from roman, who had hesitated but obliged. his only request was that his family doesn’t know, and so far, they hadn’t.

but little things, questions regarding the other had raised a few flags. kendall had asked about you once, bringing up the question to roman on your whereabouts. roman had lied and said he had just seen you in your office, but kendall knew you weren’t even in the building. or when shiv had texted you to ask if you’d be joining the family to scotland, but you had to play off your absence with a separate work trip. when in reality you had no idea that roman would even leave the country.

shiv knew something was off. she was finding roman more intolerable by the day. he was more disheveled, prone to outbursts, constantly on the defensive, and it definitely had to do with you. you were his happy little pill.

as much as you wanted to keep the secret, roman made it difficult. he rarely ever saw you anymore, and he would often exclude you from meetings regarding family or work. you didn’t mind at first, until it started affecting your work. you’d have to talk to him about it, eventually.

logan had called for a meeting in his office. usually big meetings with all of the roys and close workers meant bad things. typically you’d stay out of these things and find out from roman. but you had no roman to come home to anymore, and you’d have to learn how to fight for yourself sooner rather than later.

you were the third one to arrive. kendall was already perched beside his father. you admired kendall for his ability to resurrect himself and crawl back under his father’s thumb. you respected him, but not lately. greg and tom were also in the room. their little duo was dangerous, you’ve warned roman to watch out for them.

“y/n!” tom stood up from his seat, awkwardly hugging you. you stiffened in his arms and pulled back with an awkward smile, “tom. didn’t know we did that!” your eyes slid to logan and kendall, who seemed as equally as surprised by your presence.

“sir.” you looked at your father-in-law, who’s eyes shone at you, “y/n. what a delightful surprise.” he kept his tone even, but you still smiled nonetheless.

kendall had his wits about him, for once. “what changed?” he squinted his eyes at you and you laughed slightly, “it’s nice to see you too, ken.”

just as you turned, you heard a whistle at the door, “where is everyone? you said at 11:30 right?” roman looked down at his watch before looking up, eyes settling on your face.

you hadn’t expected to see him so face to face, for the first time in weeks. he looked away slightly, cracking another irrelevant joke before walking over to a chair.

he didn’t even greet you, and that didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else. more and more flooded in, and you couldn’t stop the pounding feeling in your head even as the conversation began.

“roman!”

logan’s shout had broken you out of your daze. you blinked, eyes narrowing on the clock as you realized thirty minutes had passed. you had missed most of the meeting, and seemingly caught the end. but this wasn’t just any end, this was logan handing your husband his own ass.

you listened to roman get chewed out. you weren’t in the loop to roman’s work, and you felt lost.

logan’s insults turned into abuse. you felt your mouth go dry as you stood up, words spilling out of your mouth in roman’s defense.

you didn’t know what you had done until it was done. you were locked in a stare with logan, who was in disbelief at your outburst. you felt you face heat up and you inhaled sharply. logan didn’t say anything, but kendall had waved his hands, “alright. let’s just- end it here.” he shifted his gaze over to you but you didn’t meet his eyes.

roman stared at you, from across the room in his chair. you blinked, words faltering as you stared at him.

you didn’t bother apologizing as you excused yourself, practically running down the hall to shut yourself away.

there was a soft knock at your door. roman. it had to be roman. you felt your chest heavy with pressure as you stood up, walking over to your door. you unlocked it, but hesitated as you pulled it open.

“yes?” you peeked out, beads of sweat lining your forehead. your eyes met his and roman stared at you, “let me in.” he nodded to the door and you hitched a breath, opening the door as you stepped back.

“ro-“ without another word you threw yourself into his arms. he grabbed you tightly, reciprocating your need for affection.

“i’m so sorry.” you choked out, “i’m so fucking sorry.” you knew logan had a difficult relationship with his son, and this didn’t help any of it. logan must hate you now.

roman shook his head, “fuck that. fuck that old ass guy. it’s okay, you-“ he pulled back and you felt his lips on your cheek, “you know i would’ve done that for you.”

you hugged him tightly, and hoped this warmth would last.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy angst #roman roy fluff #roman roy smut #roman roy x you #roman roy succession #succession fanfic #succession x reader #succession hbo #succession #roman roy

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scintillyyy · 1 year

Text

alright new post so not to derail this post any more than i already have lol

so something i think i've never seen touched on in a potential dick dies au like that is the emotional devastation that tim would feel when he found out about it. because dick has been so important to him for so long, even before they met again post jason's death. so tim would take the news of dick dying very, very terribly. and like idk. in canon, tim was a bit emotionally removed from the situation and did not need emotional support himself, which is why he was able to provide emotional support (mainly for bruce). conversely, a tim whose hero has died would need emotional support and likely not be able to provide it. on one hand, tim does have a very rosy view of dick and bruce's relationship at first and might be able to pull himself together for the idea of dick in order to try and pull bruce out of his depression over dick's death (because he would be doing it for dick). on the other hand, tim is 13 and his hero dick grayson has died and he might not be able to emotionally handle that.

so i think from the second option you have a tim that never reaches out to batman&robin and i think we have a couple of branching possibilities here: one. tim suffers in silence over dick's death (not in the fanon way). tries to hide his devastation over dick's death from his parents and pretends everything is fine (because they wouldn't understand), his parents remain unaware that anything is wrong and keep traveling and both die in haiti (since tim never met batman&robin and batman has no personal stake in the case). two. even as absentminded parents as jack and janet can be they realize something is wrong with tim and find out he's very upset over dick grayson dying. they come back home asap because they're not total monsters. because they are home they don't go to haiti and they survive. this situation probably brings up a lot of tension between jack and janet because jack is probably being very nonchalant about the whole thing and thinks tim needs to man up and janet is far more worried that he is taking this death of a virtual stranger so hard and is stressed because this all goes back to the circus incident. fights increase and this accelerates jack & janet's divorce. jack meets dana somewhere and promptly gets married and focuses on his new life and janet probably gets majority custody and takes her very large alimony and moves them out to bristol. tim slowly improves over time and goes to visit dick's grave one night.

this is, of course, the night that dick crawls out of his grave and janet was having a very normal night until her son walked in with a resurrected dick grayson covered in dirt and i guess we have to make our way through mom's archeology contacts to get this situation fixed now. it's a whole ass world tour.

#my bad idea train running at full speed ahead

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kess-in-the-perthchimzone · 7 months

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Kang learning to fight for Sailom

If Kang feels this way, why was he such a dick to Sailom? I saw this question over and over again after last week.

To answer it, it’s important to look at their dynamic before their breakup.

Before they ever started dating — before they were even friends — Kang first noticed Sailom because he was willing to fight back. He looked Kang dead in the eye and he always found a way to one up him:

Then, once they grew closer Sailom consistently held Kang accountable and pushed him to be a better person:

But from the moment Saifah confesses, Sailom completely shuts down. He doesn’t protest when Kang walks away from him. He doesn’t knock on Kang’s door. He ‘plays’ along with letting Kang buy him in the escort scene. As I’ve mentioned before, Sailom had believed all along that that they were always going to come to an end, and so he accepts Kang breaking up with him as his lot in life. Sailom has never gotten to have nice things. Why would Kang be different?

Hear me when I say I’m not trying to argue that one of them is right or wrong — they represent two sides of a relationship with two very different perspectives. Even though I sympathize deeply with them both, I’m trying to show Kang’s side for the purpose of this essay because his is more confusing.

From Kang’s perspective, this is Sailom giving up on them. Kang initially pushed him away in a mess of grief and fear and anger. While he immediately regretted it, though, Sailom hasn’t said or done a single thing to indicate he cares they’re over. He hasn’t argued, he hasn’t begged, he hasn’t tried to stay. Where Sailom might have thought it was appropriate to leave the umbrella, it must have felt like a very definitive action to Kang.

Although Sailom cried in the escort scene, those tears could arguably be explained by the trauma of his experience. Kang wouldn’t have believed they were for their lost relationship (as much as it felt like it to us the viewer, seeing them hug).

So coming into episode 11, Kang feels deeply rejected. He feels like Sailom never needed him the way Kang did Sailom. He’s convinced himself Sailom doesn’t care. Which means Kang is frustrated and hurt.

@thirstkanaphan speculates that this is actually Kang trying to (badly) warn Sailom off escorting, which I think is very believable. These are bluntly delivered words that mask a much deeper concern.

@criticallyobs also adds that this is very believably Kang speaking to himself (“I won’t LET myself be concerned”; which, sure buddy, good luck with that).

Then, what’s the much worse scene — taking back the pin, makes even more sense to me. Because at first Kang is quiet. He’s been staring at Sailom with barely concealed longing all day.

He looks exactly like he did in episode four — like all he needs is a moment alone with Sailom in the bathroom to crack.

But instead of falling into his arms, Sailom thanks him. I love this gifset from @kangsailomthat shows his complete sincerity.

This is indisputably a farewell. This is a “we’re never going to see each other again”.

Kang is reacting to what he sees as Sailom permanently trying to leave his life. (Again, badly)

@thirstkanaphan also points out that this is (in Kang’s mind) his last chance to touch Sailom. In that scene you can see he’s fidgeting. His arms had been moving even before that. Taking off the pin was a discrete action he could take that gave him an excuse to physically touch Sailom.

Neither of them want this separation! Sailom is reacting to what he thinks Kang wants or needs. And Kang is taking the lead — as he does in VIRTUALLY ALL OTHER ASPECTS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP — from Sailom. He is hearing and seeing that Sailom is seemingly fine with their breakup.

But Kang doesn’t want to be apart. He has not wanted to be apart since immediately after the haze of grief wore off after learning Saifah confessed. Kang either starts (or more likely continues, given how quickly he got to Sailom’s side after Sailom called him) following him. He keeps watching Sailom, making sure Sailom is okay. Which is how he’s able to save Sailom from the shooting.

From afar, Kang likely saw Sailom looking fine. Sailom smiles at multiple times when talking to his boss and Name. Sailom puts on a brave face with every single person he interacts with. The only time he shows a crack in the facade is when he’s hidden inside a car.

Seeing Sailom cry in the shower completely upends everything Kang has been telling himself. He sees first-hand how much their breakup has been tearing Sailom apart. He understands exactly how lost Sailom has been without him.

While up to this point, Kang has been being an ass — in part in the hope of getting Sailom to push back; to fight for them — in the shower he realizes that in their relationship he needs to be the one to take the lead. Whereas Sailom will push him in other aspects in his life, Kang has to be the one to fight for the two of them.

He recognizes in that moment that he needs to convince Sailom how serious he is about them. And then he resolves himself to continue protecting Sailom and their love from them on. (Demonstrated beautifully in this gifset by @tirpse)

#kanghansailom #kanghan kirttin sukprasert #sailom homchan #dangerous romance #dangerous romance the series #kess babbles about dangerous romance

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ruinaimagines · 1 year

Note

Can I get uhhh Vergilius x Reader hcs 👉👈 I love that miserable miserable man

He is truly truly sad, someone come help him pls

Vergilius x Reader Headcanons:

How?? Did you get close to this man?? He has like 800 emotional walls up so it’s going to take a long while before you actually get anywhere. This is only increased by tenfold after what happened to the orphanage and his office.

Though if you did manage to get close to him I think that if you hold a good heart and desire to make change he would favor you… a bit more. But there is a fine line between making progress and playing the long careful game rather than being a reckless idiot. Please don’t be the latter; he already has enough to worry about.

Warming up towards you is something that he can’t really stop from happening, but is still a very dangerous game to play. You might come to find that you’re on good terms with him but he will still randomly close off from time to time, this isn’t your fault but instead stems from his own internal turmoil of getting too friendly. It just takes patience and all will be well again.

If he meets you outside of his work then he will do everything in his power for you to not become involved in any possible way. The closer and more you know, the higher the chance you yourself might get immersed in the dangerous work, or even worse Iori gets her eyes on you.

Unless you yourself are another fixer he has a bit of a problem with underestimating you- not out of malice or anything, nor does he think you’re incapable he just really doesn’t want to risk anything. He trusts you to be efficient in your fields but anything else he will keep a very close watchful eye over you.

Charon is the only one who really knows about your blossoming relationship, and even then she doesn’t fully know the details because she doesn’t bother to ask much. Everyone else that has heard of you thinks you are solely a business partner or acquaintance- nothing less, nothing more.

If you do meet him because you share a similar line of work it’s a bit more complicated. He doesn’t want to hold your hand or come across like he’s favoring you, so he treats you indiscriminately, but at the same time deep down he is concerned for you. He has absolutely no control over what you are going up against and that nags at him because he has no clue what could happen to you.

I wouldn’t say he’s a super controlling person, but he is definitely one who wants to be aware of what you are doing and where you are going at almost all times, especially if he’s begun caring for you in a romantic sense. You’ll have privacy of course, but there’s a lot of people who want him dead and you could very easily become a prime target should they figure out his relationship with you. He needs that reassurance that you’re safe, and in the case where you aren’t he can get there quickly.

I am so sorry if you are a fan of PDA but this man is god awful with it. Like he is as stiff as a concrete pillar in public and will not really reciprocate to any touch you make. This isn’t due to the fact he doesn’t feel the same way, or is embarrassed, but because he is just really awkward and constantly concerned someone might see and jump you later.

If your relationship came to fruition would probably be on the down low, and should anyone relating to him besides Charon ever find out about it they will keep their mouth shut. He knows his ways of being intimidating and very few desire to cross him.

Speaking of which, if there is anyone trash talking you or in general giving you a hard time for no reason he does not put up with that. Will either stare at them with such intensity that they can virtually feel the irritation, or will chastise them and quickly shut them up. And when this man glares you can feel it even if you are not looking at him, like holes burning straight through your back.

Takes you out to eat places, completely his treat. He has a hard time vocalizing his feelings because of the emotional weight and trauma he has, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do his best to show you through gifts or acts of service. The times you meet up he usually has a little bag neatly tied to hand over to you, filled with anything he thinks you’ll like as he speaks with that long, droning voice of his.

Will pick you up things on the way home or to where you reside if they remind him of you. This does include more light-hearted things like plushies, and it’s a bit amusing to see such an intimidating stoic man gripping one in his arm when you open the door to face him. He holds onto things tight too. Poor plush probably is having its life strangled out of it.

His touch is almost like a ghost, just barely hovering over your skin with such hesitation like he’s scared that if he holds onto you, you’ll shatter. If you look closer you’ll see the way they sometimes shake as though he’s worried about testing the waters.

When he does embrace you it is firm, secure, distant but full of longing. His hair falls over his face as he crooks his neck to place his chin on your shoulder. He’s not super talkative at times like these, but even so not many words need to be exchanged.

There have been very few times, but you have seen him breaking down a bit. It feels uncomfortable for him, a bit humiliating even to be seen in such a vulnerable state. He usually deals with his problems alone, even if it’s not the healthiest route, so even if someone like you is there for him he’s going to struggle in reaching out.

He appreciates your will to stand alongside him and listen, but there are many things he doesn’t really tell you. Not unless they bubble up to the surface and bring him to a point of distress. Often so long as he isn’t in immediate turmoil he disregards or undermines the impact it has on him, putting off facing it for later.

Please just hold him close if and while he cries. It gives him a sense of comfort, reminds him that he’s not entirely alone. He’s not expecting answers to his problems or solutions, just someone to accompany him and listen.

Okay but on a less serious note you get to know all the drama happening at the job, and he does not hold back when he’s trash-talking too. It’s honestly so funny because you will hear some of the most obscure borderline-insults as he describes some of the batshit things the sinners do and how he is completely bewildered on how they even thought that would be a good idea. Sure they are all selected for a reason but god he doesn’t understand how some of them hadn’t died before they got hired in Limbus Company. He has a lot of pent up irritation because he doesn’t want to be the guide in the first place and ranting about it helps as well as serves as a source of entertainment for you so… double win.

Okay but you are a breath of fresh air and lord does he need one. Just offer companionship and give him time and see where things take you.

#limbus company #lbc #limbus company vergilius #vergilius #vergil #limbus company x reader #lbc x reader #x reader #vergilius x reader #vergil x reader #limbus company vergilius x reader #lbc vergilius x reader #vergilius headcanons #headcanons #hcs #leviathan #leviathan vergilius #project moon

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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this is us ~ jjk | 16

six months later and you're still not over jungkook, and when you finally hit rock bottom, you realize you have to pick yourself up because no one else can do it for you.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist | AO3 & Wattpad ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) ✨ a/n 2: hello, hello! can you believe we're almost done with this series? it's been a crazy journey for these two, hasn't it? lol. well, i'll just say the angst is strong in this chapter but! this is the last angsty chapter, which i'm kind of happy for myself, my readers, and the characters lmaooooo. i hope y'all enjoy it and now it's only going up from this point out!

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 17 ~ one year later

chapter 16 ~ so maybe you're not okay | wc: 5.4k warnings: time skip (6 months later), angst, reader is reflecting on her past actions, language, alcohol consumption, *some* tough love, self-deprecation, depressing thoughts, mentions of throwing up smut warnings: kissing, touching, groping, breast play

~ six months since the breakup ~

Six months have passed since you and Jungkook split up. Sometimes, your heart ached continually, and you wondered when it would stop or ever cease. You almost gave in and called to check how he was doing or what he was up to, but you didn't. It was foolish to believe he'd want to talk to you since he, too, was hurt. You had shattered his heart for the second time, and you shouldn't be surprised if he never wanted to hear from you again.

Your heart skipped a beat anytime his name was uttered, whether it was Jin or Yuna. A part of you wanted to know if he was doing well or if he was as unhappy as you, but you were hoping for the latter. He deserved happiness, and you wanted him to find it even if you weren’t a part of it.

As much as you wanted to run away from responsibilities, you couldn’t. Your show was the only thing that kept you going—for now, at least. Critics and audiences alike praised the first half of the season, but as the season proceeded, numbers began to fall, making you doubt your talent and career. Could your writing be suffering as a result of your breakup? It did take up a lot of your mental space these days.

You wanted to hide under a rock and never come out again, it was virtually impossible because your phone rang nonstop day and night, attempting to put out fires—executives, producers, and writers breathing down your neck, never letting you take a breath. You just wanted everything to halt, and you just wanted no one to need you. But you were reminded of that whenever you stepped into your apartment. You didn’t know which was worse anymore.

The show's last day couldn’t have come any faster, and Kenji wanted to go big and celebrate the filming wrapping. You arrived at the beautiful modern building, which hardly looked like a restaurant.

“Hello, darling.”

You turned to your ex-boyfriend, his arm snaking around your waist. He could never help himself, but you smacked his arm away. “Kenji,” you said with a scowl.

“I’m sorry, love—habit.” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, let’s celebrate,” he said, holding his arm for you to take, though you didn’t amuse him by doing so. You were tired of his antics.

Because it was a party and you were practically the face of the project, you had to put on your best smile and pretend everything was fine—better than okay, perfect because you had gotten what you wanted out of your career, you had worked your ass off to get where you are. Still, none of this mattered if you didn't have the most important person by your side, but you didn’t dare utter his name.

If there was one thing you hated about being in this industry, it was the mingling aspect. Of course, you cared for your crew but showed it differently than how Kenji wanted to. You preferred intimate gatherings, taking a few groups to talk and catch up.

Though, at this point, you didn’t want to be around anyone anymore and just wanted to eliminate the noise clouding up your mind and space.

“Hey, babe. Are you doing okay?” Hyunie asked, pulling you in for a hug.

You loved your friend, but you swear to God if she asked you one more time if you were okay, you’d explode. “I’m fine,” you snapped, closing your eyes.

Having Hyunie by your side throughout this project was a godsend, and you couldn’t have done it without her. As Yuna was busy with baby Indie, Hyunie became your right-hand gal, almost waiting on you hand and foot.

She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to make sure,” she muttered, ready to walk away.

“Wait, Hyunie—” You turned, grasping her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay. I know you’re stressed. I’ll leave you alone.”

God—were you always this bitchy and cranky? Or had you unlocked a new part of yourself that you’d only discovered after breaking up with Jungkook? Either way, you’d lose your friend if you didn’t stop.

You had stopped counting how many glasses of wine you had accepted from the server as he passed by with his tray, but it had to have been more than enough for you to want to kiss the next person you saw.

Aimlessly, you stared at your wine glass. Are you the only one like this? What the fuck are you doing with your life? Pretending to be okay when you weren’t. Shit—you were so fucking pathetic.

Every day, the same thing, over and over again. Mindlessly, alone. You were gradually losing yourself in your innermost thoughts.

Tomorrow may be better. Maybe it’ll be alright. But who were you kidding? They were nothing but lies. You were too far gone, too broken. And it didn’t look like it could ever be reversed.

“So, you’re the big boss, hmm?”

You looked up to see a handsome man donned in an all-black outfit, his honey-skin chest practically on display, the deep V of his silk shirt leading your eyes down to his lower half. “That’s me,” you muttered, swirling the last of what was left in your wine glass.

“Can I get you a refill?”

“Yes, please.”

The man flashed a beautiful smile before going behind the counter, reaching underneath to pull up a bottle of wine.

“Are you supposed to be back there?” you asked, raising a brow because he wasn’t a crew member from your show. Actually, you had never seen him before.

He chuckled. “I’m Jung Hoseok, co-owner of Onjium.” You held your glass out for him to refill.

“It’s a beautiful restaurant, and the food is immaculate.”

“Ah, why, thank you,” he remarked. “Should I return the favor and praise your show?”

You tried to suppress your smirk by sipping the red wine. “I’d rather you praise me instead."

Hoseok's tongue darts to wet his lips, biting the bottom. "I can do that."

It had been too long since you had kissed anyone, alone let anyone even touch you. But Hoseok’s kisses from the column of your neck trailing towards your collarbone made you realize how horny you were—and your vibrator wasn’t cutting it anymore. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t sought out a fuck buddy in the first place. It would’ve easily taken your mind off everything and relieved some stress.

His hardened length brushed against your clothed heat, his soft lips continuing to mark your body, his hand on the small of your back, eliminating the distance between you. “Fuck—you’re so sexy,” he kissed your lips. “Why isn’t every man dropping to their knees for you?”

You throw your head back, a chuckle leaving your lips. “Do you always flatter every woman who walks through your restaurant’s doors?” you ask, tugging at his belt, unfastening it with his pants.

He grins and shakes his head. “I never do things like this,” he lies through his teeth.

“Uh-huh, sure,” you quip back. “So you’ve never fucked anyone on this couch before?” You found it hard to believe—a good-looking man like him, not fucking every beautiful that walked into his restaurant?

“Nope, never,” he laughs, coming in for another kiss, his hard length pressing into your lower abdomen, making you ache and crave what’s hidden beneath those briefs. “Can I?” he asks, toying with the thin straps of your dress.

“Please do. I’m at your service to be praised and adored.” You were hardly ever this bold or confident. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, coinciding with how shitty you’ve been feeling these past several months.

Hoseok’s slender fingers drew imaginary circles into your skin. He studied your face—eyes closed, mouth agape, and head lolled back. Savoring every moment as you bite your bottom lip, just waiting for him to continue as he pleased. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Honestly, at this moment? Anything—anything to relieve the ache that was building inside your body.

He hums, waiting for your answer.

You opened your eyes and straightened your posture. He still hadn’t removed your straps, so you did it for him, agonizingly slow, of course—just as he teased you, you did the same to him. But your stupid bra stood in the way until you unfastened the hooks, freeing your breasts one at a time. His attention is now diverted from your eyes to your chest, taking in the perfect view.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you leaned in, whispering, “I want you to fuck me so hard that you have to take me home and then fuck me all over again.”

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself, then gripped the soft flesh of your ass through your black slip dress. His hands roamed the sides of your body. His eyes fixated on your breasts before palming them in his hands. “Fuck–yes. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

His hand reached the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. You spread your legs wider, rolling your hips against his erection. Faint whimpers leave your lips when his fingers pinch your stiff peaks.

“Fuck–Kook. I need you inside me.”

“Name’s Hoseok,” he says between kisses.

“Don’t–don’t talk.”

“Anything you want, princess.”

You pulled away with a deadpan expression, breathing a loud sigh.

“You just ruined it.” Of course, he couldn’t have known that you hated that pet name, but that pet name also brought you back to reality.

You drew the strings of your dress back over your shoulders, proceeding to grab the rest of your things. “I’m sorry, Hoseok. I shouldn’t have done this,” you say, looking around for your bra.

“Was it something I said?”

Technically, yes, but also, you were stupid for trying to sleep with a man you had just met. This wasn’t you. You didn’t go around fucking random strangers–you much preferred being in a loving relationship, not one-night stands with men you’d never see again.

“No–it’s me. I’m sorry.”

Quickly, you left the crime scene, slipping into a taxi, still holding your bra because you couldn't put it back on without someone stopping to talk to you. With eyes closed and a loud sigh, your head lolled back on the car’s headrest. The angel on your shoulder was berating you for making bad decisions. The devil told you to return to the man who wanted to sleep with you and show you a good time. Right now, you didn’t want to listen to either of them.

You open your eyes and straighten your posture, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview. The person staring back was unrecognizable—having sunk to the lowest of the lows, unsure if you could pick yourself back up. At this point, you wondered how your friends could even put up with you. You didn’t even want to be around yourself—a pitiful mess you were.

Sundays were brunch days at Yuna and Namjoon’s. It was a tradition the group had organized since the new parents had their hands full.

But you lay in bed, thinking of the many excuses you could give to your best friend to get out of this brunch you had started to loathe. It reminded you of your mother’s family reunion dinners.

You 9:27 AM *cough*cough* I’m not feeling well. I think I drank too much.

Yuna 9:29 AM 😒 Get your ass over here. I don’t care if you’re on your deathbed.

Tae 9:30 AM Dang—mama don’t play. You tell her, Noona!

Hyunie 9:30 AM Seriously, taetae? Why??? Why are you like this? 😑

Joon 9:31 AM I’m making my infamous avocado toast.

Jin 9:32 AM Namjoon cooking? *cough*cough* I’m sick too.

Yuna 9:33 AM Oh! Don’t make me slap all of you through this phone. Everyone be here at 10:30! OR ELSE.

You 9:33 AM Fine…

Jin 9:34 AM Okay—MOM.

Tae 9:34 AM Or else, what? You’ll spank me?

Hyunie 9:35 AM Someone come strangle my husband before I do!!

Even if you were on your deathbed, huh? Apparently, you still had to attend this infamous Sunday brunch.

A notification bell came through your phone, illuminating your screen.

Jin 9:37 AM I can come pick you up.

You 9:38 AM Why? You don’t trust that I’ll go there?

Jin 9:38 AM Nope 🙃 See you soon friend.

The car ride to Yuna’s consisted of nothing but radio silence. Jin looked over, watching you mindlessly observe pedestrians, deep in thought about who knows what. He wanted to interrupt many times but didn’t want to appear insensitive.

“You look like shit,” Taehyung remarked, sitting at the table.

“Thanks, Taehyung. I really appreciate your honesty,” you faked a smile before letting it falter. “FYI—this is what I look like, hungover.”

“You seem to be drinking a lot these days,” Yuna couldn’t help but comment.

“There’s nothing wrong with drinking,” Namjoon responded as he was focused on smashing the avocados in the bowl. He looked up to see his wife glaring at him. “What?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, as long as it’s done in moderation. We don’t want anything bad to happen to our bodies.” He looked over at Yuna again, who was pleased with his answer.

“Maybe just slow down on the mimosas today, babe,” Hyunie interjected when you picked up the tall, slim glass and sipped. Whoever made it went a bit overboard on the champagne. It wouldn’t be your fault, it was whoever made this.

“I’m fine,” you noted. “I’m a big girl, and I can care for myself.”

With her tongue in cheek, Yuna tuts as she spreads the butter on the piece of bread, preparing the pan for the avocado toast.

You wanted to let that slide because she had been like this for the past few months, making snide, snarky comments or saying things under her breath. Maybe motherhood was taking a toll. Maybe she hadn’t had enough sleep. Maybe she, too, was pissed off at the world.

“Do you have something you want to say to me?” You set your glass down, folding your arms across your chest. Maybe you were feeling confident after the sip of orange juice and champagne.

Everyone quieted down, pretending not to let this conversation become awkward, trying to do other things to distract themselves.

Yuna placed the bread into the warm pan, letting it sizzle, but she didn’t answer you. She had wanted to talk to you privately for a while now, but everything was bubbling up to the surface, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Namjoon clenched his jaw and lightly elbowed her, giving her the staredown of the century, mouthing, “Not now.”

“Why not? Hmm?” she answers aloud to her husband. “She needs to hear what I have to say.”

He looks at everyone whose eyes are now on the couple in the kitchen. “There’s a time and place if you want to talk, but not in front of everyone,” he said in a hushed tone, quickly glancing at you, then back to his smashed avocados.

“Yuna, if you have something to say, just fucking say it.” You were tired of all these side eyes and unspoken words.

She sighs and then turns off the stovetop, removing the pan from the heat. “It’s been six months, Y/n. Six months since Jungkook left.”

“Yeah, you don’t think I fucking know that? I have to live with that knowledge every day. Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone and let me drink in peace?” Picking up the glass, you took another sip; the bubbly drink fizzled down your throat. “I’m fine,” you lied. “Sometimes I just want to wallow in all the shit I’m feeling, okay? And be fucking depressed, sad, and hurt. Am I not allowed to do that?”

Hyunie steps closer, grasping your arm. “Of course, you can, but we’re just worried about you and want you to talk to us.”

“What do you want me to say?” You look around the room, trying your best to hold it together. Your tongue darted to lick your lips, teeth nibbling your bottom lip, but the yearning in your heart welled to the surface, just waiting to erupt. “You want me to say that I fucked up? Instead of pushing Jungkook away, I should’ve tried to work through it. That I should've gone to LA to get him back? Well, it's too fucking late. I can't do shit now. He's probably moved on with his life and is doing ten times better than I am."

You let go of Hyunie and sat in the dining chair. "God–I'm so pathetic." You wiped the tears streaming down your face. "I feel so numb, so broken," you said with a shaky voice. "I just want to wake up from this stupid nightmare, but I can't because this is my fucking reality. I know I have no one to blame but myself for this mess."

Everyone looked at you with pity and remorse. Practically watching you fall apart. You didn't want this to happen but knew it eventually would.

Yuna sympathized with her best friend, and she did. But she also had her baby brother to worry about as well. She knew how he was doing–which was much better than you right now, and you were right. He had moved on and was in a better spot, mentally and emotionally.

She walked over to you, placing her hand on yours, gently rubbing the top of your hand. Yuna softly sighed, “I love you, I do. But sometimes I just wanna give you a good smack.”

“Jagi!” Namjoon quips, setting down his fork.

“In a loving way, of course,” she pauses, “I'm sorry things turned out the way they did with you and Jungkook. It hurts me to see you like this–living life so aimlessly. If you want him, go get him. If you don't, then move on.”

“It's not that simple,” you said, turning to her.

“I know—but you have to try. Take it one day at a time. Do something fun. Try something you’ve never done before. Get your mind off everything,” Yuna suggests.

She was right. Since your show had wrapped up and nothing else lined up, you could do as you, please. Maybe you could find a new hobby or travel—it’s been a minute since you had a proper vacation. Honestly, traveling to a secluded place seemed like a dream. But would it be a ruse to run away from your problems, or would it help you move on? Could it be a bit of both?

“I’m sorry, guys. I am.” You look up to your friends who have been supportive these past few months while you were at rock bottom.

Jin, Namjoon, and Taehyung grunted or hummed, acknowledging your apology before distracting themselves with something else.

Hyunie comes in for an embrace. “You’re gonna be okay. I know it.” She pulls away, the corners of her lips curving into a reassuring smile.

“I don’t deserve you guys.”

“You don’t,” Jin jokes, in which Namjoon glares at him. “What?” He stuffs a blueberry in his mouth. “Just saying.”

You were conscious of your choices and actions and aware of the consequences; nevertheless, accepting and coming to terms with them was another matter.

Regardless, if you wanted to get out of this deep, dark hole you’ve dug, no one could help you unless you helped yourself.

With nowhere to go, nothing to do, and no one to see—your life felt like it had no meaning, no purpose.

Do something fun.

Yuna’s voice echoed from the day before. Fun? You didn’t even know what you considered fun anymore. What did you even like besides writing and working? No new films were interesting, at least not enough to make you want to pay to sit in front of the big screen. And you just knew you’d be scrolling through Netflix for hours trying to find something to watch before ultimately giving up. There was no point, you thought.

And since none of those things were riveting, you again found yourself at the bar. At least, it was the first time you’d gone this week. Well—to be honest, the week had just begun.

“Another Moscow mule, please,” you inquired, waving down the bartender. It was only your third one of the night, but given that your speech was becoming unintelligible—you’d be cut off soon.

The bartender nodded, acknowledged your request, and began working on your drink.

You held onto the black straw, mindlessly stirring the ice in the copper mug. Your eyes laser-focused on the bottle sitting behind the bar back—Highland Park, single malt whiskey. You preferred cocktails over straight liquor. You didn’t think you could handle all the alcohol content; hell, you could hardly hold the ones in cocktails.

Next to the shelf of liquor stood a mirror, but you couldn’t recognize the person in the reflection. Who was she? Six months had passed since the breakup, and the person in the mirror looked grim and unhappy. You couldn’t remember the last time you genuinely smiled or even laughed, and you had forgotten what true joy felt like.

This past year drained you emotionally and physically. You weren’t sure you had even gotten through all of it, and storing these traumatic, unpleasant memories in your amygdala only to resurface when you drank, forced you to deal with your emotions and feelings—things you didn’t want to touch. They were too painful and tortuous. It was easier to leave them be, brush them off, pretend that life could go on—but you had to face these memories and feelings sooner rather than later, or you’d never be able to pull yourself out of the hole you had dug.

The soft murmur of your name broke your focus on yourself in the mirror. You turned to see Min Yoongi beside you in a black button-down with a turtleneck underneath.

“Why do you look like you just sat down to be interviewed for a documentary?” You ask without regard to how he is doing or what he was doing at the bar.

Yoongi laughed at your abruptness. “I just came from a meeting with a colleague and came here for drinks, but he had to head out; then I saw you sitting here, so here I am.”

“Mmhm, here you are.” Your eyes lit up when the bartender handed you your drink.

“Can I get a single malt whiskey? Neat.”

You chuckled because you were looking at the bottle the bartender picked up.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, sitting beside you, his knee slightly brushing against yours before swiveling away in his stool.

It would be easy to say, ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ and go on the rest of the night indulging in small talk, but did you want to open a can of worms?

You gave your attention to the new Moscow mule sitting before you, stabbing the lime with the black straw and pushing it down to the bottom. You turn to him, “I feel like I’m gonna break down and cry at a moment’s notice.”

For some reason, it felt easier to bare your soul to someone who knew nothing about your life because all your friends quickly judged you and your decisions. But not with Yoongi. He knew the bare minimum about you.

“It’s okay to cry. Just don’t cry alone,” he simply said before thanking the bartender and sipping his whiskey.

Honestly, you hadn’t cried in the past few months. You felt more numb than anything, but the accumulation of your relationship with your mom, infertility, and Jungkook was enough to make you want to break down and give up on everything in life. The weight of it all was coming to a peak, ready to erupt.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he teased, to which you rolled your eyes. He took another sip, waving for you to continue.

“Do you ever ask yourself what the fuck you’re doing with your life?”

“All the time,” he chuckled. “It’s normal to ask that question. Think about it—we’re living, breathing humans that live on a rock floating through time and space.”

“Yes! Oh my god! I think about that all the time. Why do all of my problems seem so big in my little world? But compared to how big the world is, it seems silly, minuscule, and unimportant. I mean, the person walking down the street probably has bigger problems than me.”

“Mm, that could be true, but don’t minimize your hurt and feelings. It’s important to recognize and learn from those things and let them shape a better you.”

“Why get a shrink when all you need is ‘Min Yoongi’ in your life?” You finally take a sip of your drink, the ice already melting in place, the condensation pooling a rim on the napkin.

He chuckled at your joke. “I’m hardly a therapist. I’ve just—I’ve been where you are, and I’m sorry it sucks, but give it time. You’ll be okay.”

“But, like, how do you know that?”

“Well, I don’t,” he took a swig of his whiskey. “I mean, there aren’t many things in our control, but for the things that are, it’s important to do what we can. We can only manage what’s right in front of us. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow, next week, or three months from now. Just worry about what’s happening right here, right now. That’s all you can do, you know?”

You recognized the truth behind Yoongi’s words and wanted to believe it. You did. But it was always easier said than done. Maybe you just needed more time, time to find yourself again. Maybe find joy in the little things, in yourself, and become comfortable in your skin without the dissonance of your friends. This time in your life would be as good as any since you had nothing lined up for you, work-wise. There was no one to keep you here in Seoul. You could go anywhere if you wanted to. Would now be the right time to uproot your life and go wherever your heart desired?

Yoongi could see you pondering his words, maybe letting the reality of it all soak in. He chugged the last of his whiskey, setting the glass down. “Come on, let me take you home.”

You lifted your finger, ready to key in your apartment's code, before returning to Yoongi. “Do you wanna come in?”

He hesitated before answering, “I shouldn’t.”

“You’re not going to tuck me in; make sure I don’t drown in my vomit?” Yoongi snickers. “Sorry, I’m not in my right mind right now. You don’t have to come in.”

“You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“I just gave you an out. You can leave if you want, but if you don’t hear from me tomorrow, will you be ready to live with that guilt if something happened to me?” You could’ve easily eliminated the last line but couldn’t help yourself. Let’s blame it on the alcohol for the sudden confidence.

Yoongi’s tongue darted out, licking his lips, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. He nodded toward your door. “Come on. Let’s get you tucked in.”

“I just want to lay on a nice, warm beach. Or I guess I’ll try to dream of it tonight.”

Yoongi followed you into the bedroom and lunged forward to keep you standing straight before you plopped onto the bed. “I have a vacation home in Phuket if you ever need to get away from here.”

“You do?” Your eyes widen in delight, almost wanting to take up his offer.

“Yeah, Tae and Hyunie went there recently, and I’m only ever there occasionally. Feel free to use it if you’d like.”

“Is this the part where you plan to murder me, and no one will ever find my body?” you joke, referring to when he said he’d take you home the first night you met, even though you hardly knew him then.

“I think you’ve been watching one too many Law and Order episodes, huh?”

You shrug. “You can never be too careful, you know!”

Yoongi laughs. “If I wanted to murder you, I’d have done it already.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re waiting for the perfect moment. Like when I’m all vulnerable in my bed.” He shows off his gummy smile, a feature you’ve come to appreciate. “You should smile more often. You have a really pretty smile.”

He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle as he turned away from you. Through the short time, he’s known you, you were never this honest with him.

You sigh. "Can I skip to the part where everything will be okay again?"

Yoongi kneeled by your bedside and flashed a closed-lipped smile before scanning over your features. Apparently, you were just full of questions tonight, but he didn’t mind. "Where you are now is not where you'll always be."

He seemed so positive and empathetic toward your situation, which you were grateful for. It's possible he was just being kind, but he had plenty more to say. He was almost like your personal fortune cookie, always ready with an answer.

"That's easy for you to say." You snuggled deeper into your fluffy pillow, pulling the duvet under your chin.

"Mm–yeah, it is," he chuckled. "Well, there's a high chance that the future you want never happens, and if you put too much meaning into it, it'll torment you."

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly.

“You know what I mean.”

You stick out your tongue in protest, pulling the duvet over your head. “Just say I’m being pathetic. I can handle it,” you lie, muffled through the sheets. You were one step away from losing your shit.

Yoongi cleared his throat, lifting the duvet so he could say goodbye. He could see the sadness in your eyes when you looked back at him, and he only knew what you were going through because Kim Taehyung had a big mouth and shared whatever details he knew about you and your ex-boyfriend. But he never wanted to press you further unless you wanted to share.

“Well, I’m gonna head out. It looks like you’re tucked in safely and not dying, so...”

He proceeded to stand, but you sat up, grabbing his hand, your hand lingering longer than usual. Your eyes focused on his plush lips, then you moved in, closing your eyes for a kiss, but he pulled away.

“I’m sorry.” He stood, taking another step toward the door. “You’re cool, but I don’t kiss people when they’re not sober.”

Your cheeks become warm, your gaze avoiding his. “I’m sorry. As you can probably tell, I’m not in the right mind frame, and I’m very susceptible to handsome men when they’re sweet.”

Yoongi flashed a thin smile. “It’s okay. I’ll pretend nothing happened,” he remarked, waving his hand again before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

When you heard the front door closed, you grabbed your pillow and screamed into it. Why was kissing someone always your answer when feeling shitty about yourself? At this point, Yoongi probably found you as foolish as one could be. He probably wondered how and why Hyunie and Taehyung continued to be friends with someone like you.

You set the pillow aside, sliding under your covers, thinking about the question you asked Yoongi earlier at the bar.

What the fuck are you doing with your life?

So much of your adulthood was spent trying to survive your childhood and the trauma that came with it, and as you became an adult, you hoped the person you had become would be the person you needed when you were a child. But in reality, you felt like an imposter. The adult version of you was trying her best to be what that little girl needed, though ultimately, you failed her.

You knew deep down inside that you needed to stop whatever this path of destruction was, stop blaming others, not wait to be rescued, and most of all, stop refusing to participate fully in life. You had friends who became like family to you, who loved you no matter what you did. Was that not enough?

Inevitably, you were aware that no one could save you but yourself. You’d spent your life stuck in this endless cycle that no one had created but yourself.

You stopped before you started. You gave up before you even attempted. You talked yourself out of it before you got into it.

In retrospect, you knew you were also at fault regarding Jungkook. You sabotaged your relationship because you couldn’t bear the pain. But what if you had tried and given everything, and it worked out?

But as Yoongi said, it’s better not to dwell on a future that may not happen. Otherwise, you’d continue this endless cycle of torment.

✨ a/n 3: so, how are we doing? how are we feeling? do we have any theories on what'll happen next? what do we think about yoongi? let me know (:

also! i still plan on doing the podcast episode, so start thinking of questions, comments, rambles/rants (:

✨ next ~ 17 ~ one year later

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x yn #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader

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indolamine · 6 days

Text

hey y'all 🤍 here's a link for INFO on jiyeon, but i'll include some bullet points here with all you need to know. in case anything here sparks ideas for your muse and you'd like to work on a plot, hmu. i do prefer dscrd, so don't hesitate to ask. oh and i'd appreciate it if you could shoot me a dm first so my account doesn't get banned trying to touch base with the likes (say literally anything, hit me with a send it to me rachel if you'd be so kind). still, if you'd rather just hit like it's fine, i'll reach out once tumblr allows me!

jiyeon is what you'd call an Interesting Girl. someone you don't call or arrange schedules with, just happen upon. someone who never calls you but can be your best friend between 11pm and 3am. a fun girl, you just don't look too long.

both her parents are dead for all intents and purposes, which's proven to be a very character defining event in her life. one of her fathers passed away before she was even code, and the other chose to virtually die to work as a doctor for terrascape when she turned 18.

as single beneficiary to both her fathers, jiyeon found herself young, alone and newly rich. she's not particularly self destructive, but choices were made. luckily? for the most part, she was too stunned by grief and anger to blow away her fortune, which now affords her a cushy life she doesn't dwell too hard on.

she's emotionally stunted, still reliving the loss of her parents somewhere in her mind at every moment. she knows a lot of people, calls them friends but struggles to connect with them, blinking in and out of their lives. death is a constant thought, not quite a morbid fascination but more of a haunting. she knows, poor little rich girl.

she writes -- tries to, anyway. she's got some essays published, wrote for a column for a hot minute, it's her definitive trade of choice. but, and not to get too meta, the thing about writing is that you do have to write. that's the tricky part. merits were a good incentive, though once they're no longer an issue, she finds herself ignoring deadlines and putting off work on the novel she's been writing for the past 4 years. she instead "gathers experiences". she has many talents that she has no interest in seriously exploring, so she entertains herself while the high lasts.

between her writing and her party girl fame, at some point along the way she amassed a following on social media that she hesitates to cut loose. they make her more interesting than she, merely human, could ever hope to be, and she doesn't know how to kill the part of her that answers to their call. it's a lie when she says she doesn't look at what they say.

adult life for her breezes by in parties with half-friends and long bouts of reclusion. she wants to be a little of everything. she enjoys reading, skiing, playing silly little meta indie games about living in hyper realities. she doesn't commit to romantic relationships, yet enjoys the hunt anyway. she takes her time, and it never seems to align with anyone else's.

& here's a rolling list of canons that could also serve as potential connections for anyone interested, will add more as they come to me:

she once got involved with a couple for some brief months and it didn't end well

one of the few things she gets competitive about is skiing

she's fucked someone's significant other purely out of spite

she has a writing group whose meetings she misses often but she isn't the only one so she feels like it's a safe space

the person she plays a random weird rpg with incognito is maybe the most consistent relationship in her life, their chats can get very personal and strange and they can go weeks on no contact but go right back to where they left off

the events surrounding gyuok pique her interest because it's the first time terra residents could potentially be hearing from a virtually deceased and because he's essentially a virtual ghost which she thinks is neat

one of her published essays focuses on a celebrity she knows personally and doesn't portray them in the best light, which soured their relationship

#ts:intro

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rawliverandgoronspice · 10 months

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"And I genuinely don’t think either of you understand HOW Zelda turns back to a Hylian at the end of the game.

I’m sorry but these are exceptionally poor analysis and criticisms of the game and it’s cut scenes." As the anon who wrote the ask who started this, I'll just say... nah. Also, pro-tip, don’t be angry, eat a banany. 🍌 You say that all the elements give a lot of insight into Zelda, her relationship, and all that… and then just explain it in the most barebones accusatory way possible, instead of just giving a polite counter and constructively explaining WHY you disagree. Since you apparently just wanna be angy that someone doesn’t like what you likes, and explains why they criticise it, I don’t think there really is a point to argue. Honestly, my best tip is: Eat nanner, shhhhhhh, touch grass, go sleep. Move on. Ps: Banana’s are the worst.

Also, lemme add, add some spice to your salt: “It reveals Zelda’s feelings for Link which have clearly significantly changed since Breath of the Wild.” I did not feel like they changed much at all, Zelda still feels like she’s simping for Link hard, it's just a few years later now. 😜 Extra bonus: Yeah we know why Zelda got turned back into a Hylian with no repercussions. Bc it had to happen, bc reasons-McGuffin.

Hey!

Yeah, sorry this thing escalated on your ask anon. It got significantly worse after that, so I did block the person because at some point it becomes clear they were having an argument with someone who was simply not in this virtual room and might probably not exist at all anywhere, so there was no point in engaging with a brick wall who was hurling insults based on half a paragraph taken out of context. Pretty sad way to use your free time or deploy love for the media you enjoy, but! To each their own I suppose.

But yeah, I did look it over to see if I missed something, because somebody's tone being inacceptable doesn't mean their arguments also are, but. Yeah. Zelda had her arc of going from being cold and angry with Link to learning to rely on him in Breath of the Wild already, and then literally holds the fort for a hundred years just holding on to the desperate trust that he will arise and become a hero and be capable of defeating the scourge if only she can buy him as much time as she can, which is *crazy* devotion-wise (and also active! in TotK she mostly talks about how much she trusts Link --I guess she turns into a dragon to restore the Master Sword for him, but again I don't believe she really has any other choice and it's not a struggle she must maintain over a hundred years always relying on her own resolve all the way through, so it doesn't translate as hard in my opinion). It's literally her affection for Link and her urge to protect him that awakens her powers! This arc worked great in Breath of the Wild! But TotK loves nothing more than to rethread every character's arc, except again, but less compelling and complicated and without emotional rises or character changes.

Also: a kind tumblr user out there who did not play any game but TotK, believing the marketing that you could basically jump in blind, pointed out to me that there is *no way* to catch onto any of that complexity of their relationship if you haven't played BotW (not that I think it particularly helps). Same deal with the parental thing: they did not bring up the relationship between Zelda and her dad at any point, which makes it a non-information for newcomers. While it is fine to lose some degree of nuance and be a little confused if you jump in a second videogame after the first videogame, you still need to provide something for people to hang onto, and, as I feared, the refusals to expand on BotW backstory didn't seem to help the newcomers familiarize themselves with Hyrule particularly well. Even in extremely well known IPs, it is important to re-establish the bases: jedis are sensitive with the Force, the Ring corrupts its bearer, etc etc. And this was not particularly well done here (for example: it is never explained that Ganondorf is a sorcerer on top of being a Huge Guy that will break your spine with a punch, which makes the appearance of Puppet Zelda *before* he grabs the stone extremely confusing --this relies on pre-assumptions about Ganondorf and a familiarity with the series and its tropes to make any sense, and this is yet another example of what I mean by: this game is awfully self-referential while not really standing on its own two feet).

As for the argument that Zelda was returned to a hylian because of Rauru's arm, Rauru again but ghost (??? hello again?) and Sonia (??? WHY are you here) are actually using recall on the Secret Stone? It's a cool headcanon, and honestly that would have been great and made sense (I mean, a little empty thematically again but at least a cool setup and payoff), but I see nothing that supports that in practice beyond that the power deployed is the color of gold, which, yes, is the color of Recall, buuuut it's also the color of Light and good things and the Triforce and divinity and a billion other things.

If this was what we were meant to take away, then: 1) the actual particles and sound effect of Recall should have been used instead of a vague halo of magical sparkles and 2) the Secret Stone should have hovered and glowed above her chest Laputa-style (thinking of Sheeta from Castle in the Sky, which I'm 99,9% sure was the visual inspiration anyway).

This does not happen. If them using Recall was the intent, then it's badly conveyed. But I see no textual reason to believe this is what's going on.

#asks #thoughts #totk spoilers #totk critical #when will my brain return from the imprisoning war...#zelda #botw #thanks for the ask!#general note however:#I always welcome nice asks that are kindly showing support in uhhh trying times haha #but try to not attack the other part anonymously through the ask system #it puts me in pretty awkward situations where I want to be !! thank you!! but also not. stir up the flames.#I don't particularly want to foster an atmosphere of vindictiveness if I can help it!!

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yukidragon · 2 years

Text

SDJ Headcanons 3

Took a little break from writing Sunshine in Hell or Sunshine in Another World for the past couple weeks to recharge the ole mental batteries, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t musing about the world of Sunny Day Jack. In fact, I had a theory hit me recently that demanded I make a new headcanon post for it.

As always these thoughts are likely to be spoilers for Sunshine in Hell. There are absolutely spoilers for the demo. These theories/headcanons also might change later on as I get new ideas. This post talks about changes I’ve had in my thoughts towards the series compared to my previous headcanon posts after all.

We’ll mostly be focusing on one particular theory today, and boy is it a doozy. I’ll be giving evidence that points me to it, as well as the implications that come from it and narrative parallels that appear elsewhere.

As always, I’m going to use my specific name for the main character, Alice, unless I need to point out general details about the MC that apply across the board. My headcanons mainly reference my personal version of sunshine, but many details can be applied to others pretty easily.

Oh, and a heads up about the theory I tossed onto my twitter the other day, it was a joke theory. I don’t actually think Jack cheated on his partner like Ian did and was murdered because of it. I just like causing chaos sometimes with random funny cursed thoughts and images. 😼

As always an important reminder - Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack is for Adults Only! No one under 18 is permitted in this fandom. Some themes of the game go to very dark and sexual places, and I will be touching on those mature themes, such as dubious consent and emotional manipulation, so no minors permitted past the cut.

Obligatory tag for @channydraws and @earthgirlaesthetic. If you want to be tagged the next time I make a headcanon post, please let me know. Enjoy!

The Tragedy of [Redacted]

This theory all started from a single line of dialogue in the Sleepy Time Jack virtual body pillow.

“I-I’ve never been like this with someone like you before…”

It’s a sweet comment, isn’t it? Jack only says this after he’s stripped nude. It’s an adorable amount of fluster on his part from being so exposed to his sunshine, but happy at the same time because they’re so special...

But the key words here are “with someone like you.” It implies, to me, that Jack has been in bed with at least one other person before, naked, but it wasn’t in a relationship with someone who, in his words to his sunshine (when they cuddled on the sofa in the “hug” route) makes him “feel love.” It implies that he has engaged in sexual activities with at least one other person, though not in a romantic context.

This makes sense though, right? Jack clearly knows what he’s doing sexually. In both the “yes” and “no” routes, he has no hesitation towards what he’s doing. He can strip his sunshine quickly, he knows how to use his fingers well on a lover’s body regardless of equipment involved, and he knows how to hold back to edge his sexual partner at the brink of orgasm.

Not to say that there isn’t some level of uncertainty involved given things he says in both routes. However, those are not towards the physical act but rather their emotional connection. It shows up too in another nude Sleepy Time Jack quote.

“This is fine…Right? I love you…And you love me, don’t you? So this is okay~”

In the “yes” route he seems almost amazed by his sunshine’s arousal towards him. “You were really ready for me weren’t you...” It’s almost a question, like he can’t really believe that he really is loved and desired, but he fumbles to recover from a statement that could be taken wrong.

In the “no” route, there’s a lot more desperation overall. Things like, “This feels good right...? Tell me it feels good...” and, “Our feelings are special right…?” It’s still the same theme of Jack feeling insecure that he is loved and desired. After what happened earlier, he has good reason to be especially insecure.

Overall, it’s pretty clear that Jack is a yandere because he is so insecure and desperate for love. That’s even without adding in his precarious state of existence in the present that is entirely dependent on his sunshine needing him.

In his past, even that psychologist could tell Joseph “wanted attention” and “to be seen and heard and felt and loved.” If someone could make such such assessments about Joseph so quickly, it indicates that it was easy to notice... at least for someone who knows what to look for. This meant that he was very vulnerable to anyone who saw those signs too and had a mind to exploit them for their own gain.

I think that’s exactly what happened to Joseph after he ran away from home and changed his last name from Cullman to Haberdae.

Let’s face it, runaways put themselves in a dangerous, desperate position, even if they’re teenagers with a troubled past, an attitude, and possibly a knife. Joseph made himself homeless at the age of (possibly) 14. He ran away in the middle of a school day, so this wasn’t a preplanned thing. He left with only whatever he was carrying at the time. Needless to say, he would have been ill prepared for making a whole new life elsewhere and would be in desperate need of money and shelter. In this period of his life, he is alone, barely scraping by, and no doubt still just as lonely and aching for love.

It would be so easy for someone to come across Joseph, maybe even picking him up while hitchhiking. He’s got a good build, a handsome face, and a gorgeous smile. He stands out in a crowd and he’s very attractive. Add in his vulnerable state, and if someone showed him kindness, even attraction, well... it wouldn’t be hard to imagine that he might be swept up in it the positive attention that he never got back at home.

It’s no secret that there is a dark underbelly to the entertainment industry. We hear stories all the time of producers, directors, agents, etc. offering desperate actors roles or connections in exchange for sexual favors. These actors are ignorant of the industry, and people with money and power can make or break their budding careers. This puts them in positions where it’s woefully easy to take advantage of them.

I think that’s what happened to Joseph. I think someone in a position of money and power with the studio that owned the SunnyTime Crew show dangled the promise of the starring role and adoration of the masses as a carrot in front of him. All he had to do was a few... “favors” in return... Maybe they even feigned as though they genuinely cared about him. They certainly desired his body and that did show they were interested in him...

Joseph, being in such a delicate position and so desperate could be willing to ignore the red flags, to convince himself past his doubts that they really do care about him. Sure, they expect him to provide things for them in return - sex, obedience, act like the perfect Jack for the public and not break character, work hard hours, etc... but they’re doing it because they care about him... right? What they have is special, right? They might be doing some shifty things and controlling his life, but it’s for the best, right?

Someday, Joseph will understand why they’re doing this. They’re only doing it because they care about him.

Abusive and manipulative behaviors can be a cycle. It’s entirely possible that Jack was once on the receiving end.

Jack’s comments about Ian further hint to me that he knows about relationships that aren’t built off real love, but lies of love and false promises that you wish were real, even though it’s so painful...

“He’s really fooled you, hasn’t he? He promised you the moon and all the stars…And I bet he did it so well… …But what did it all amount to in the end? He doesn’t love you… He can’t love you… Nobody who can do what he’s done to you knows what love even is.”

Jack really sounds like he’s speaking from experience there. What did all his efforts as Joseph amount to in the end? His death... and then the complete burial of his memory at the hands of the studio. As he mentioned in the hug route, the world is so busy and will forget all about someone like sunshine... like him... as what happened to him thanks to the company erasing his memory and silencing those who remembered with those iron clad NDAs.

It’s hard to blame Joseph’s co-stars for their silence after his death. They were likely in similar desperate situations that he was in. They couldn’t risk people in such powerful positions destroying their careers and suing them to bankruptcy. Those lower on the food chain in the entertainment industry are beholden to those in power and can be crushed and erased so easily, as the erasure of the show and even Joseph’s name showed.

So what I think happened was that Joseph was in a toxic relationship with someone of power. He was nothing but a good looking toy and a useful prop for the show once it got popular. He was was being overworked, likely both on and off set.

What if Joseph had moments similar to the “no” route where he felt pressured to perform and please this person holding his life in their hands?

Then of course there’s the aspect of addiction. Joseph had a nicotine addiction, but possibly also one for alcohol or hard drugs as well. The rum flavoring in the “bad choice” yogurt mini-game hints at the alcohol, while the pill imagery in the title screen hints at the drugs. Vices often serve as a bandage over the real problems a person suffers, but just make them addicted so that they sink deeper and deeper into depending on them, as well as draining their money in order to get more and more of them.

These things could be scandals enough all on their own to cause damage to the studio if word got out, but it could be worse if, say, Joseph was exposed for sleeping with one (or more) of the higher ups.

Why I say Joseph might have been having sex with more than just the person sponsoring him is because Jack had said in an interview that he wouldn’t mind joining a poly relationship. If we assume he’s in character during the interview, that could indicate that the person who “cared” for him had others they also “cared” for as well... and sometimes cruel people can treat those they have power over like toys to be passed around or pimped out for favors...

But, it’s okay, right? The person who discovered him cares about him, right? Joseph can take this all on with a smile and make it through. After all... love is about what a person can provide. He never had it before, but he has it now because he provides them with reasons to give him what he needs, the pleasure of sex, drugs, attention, and everything else he has now, when before he had nothing.

Jack himself talks as though love can be transactional, that what a person provides the other is what defines real love. He has proven in the past that he can provide so much, and his sunshine is giving him life when before he had nothing. Unlike before, however, because of the agreement between him and Alice, he can actually feel that she cares about him.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.” That phrase has a more disturbing implication if Jack felt that was what he had to do as Joseph to be loved...

Both in the past as Joseph, and in the present as Jack, he is suffering from desperation. He is dependent on a partner choosing to provide him with a way to live and for someone who actually cares about him. He must do all he can to make he provides for their needs so that he won’t lose everything.

Speaking of providing, let’s talk about the scalpels. Plastic surgeries are not uncommon in the entertainment industry, even with stars who are already conventionally attractive. People pick apart each little perceived “flaw” and can sensationalize it. It could be worse if the person toying with Joseph started to get bored or wanted more and more over time because he proved he will do whatever they ask. What if they felt he needed a little tweak or tuck here and there? Could he really be in a position to argue against it if they insist, or even if they pay for it? He wants to keep everything they’ve provided him, doesn’t he? Then he needs to stay pretty for them and for his fans.

As for the murder itself... What might have happened was that someone connected to his “partner” had an axe to grind. They could have been another toy they used, one just as desperate for that person’s “love” that they viewed Joseph as the enemy. That other lover could have snapped and exposed all of Joseph’s dirty secrets on camera in front of a huge audience... as well as the secrets of the big important person in this squeaky clean children’s entertainment industry and so much dirty laundry hidden behind the scenes of this wholesome children’s TV show... They could have exposed so much that coupled with Joseph’s murder and so many witnesses, it forever tainted the show.

So the studio buried it. The people with connections and deep pockets resorted to bribes, gag orders, burning records, and just removing every trace that might get them in trouble. There never was a SunnyTime Crew Show. There never any murder. There was never anyone by the name of Joseph Haberdae.

Joseph became [redacted] when he and all his hard work were so easily erased.

The murder, no doubt, was a traumatic event for everyone involved, especially Joseph. Being publicly raked through the coals in front of so many who meant so much to him must have been horrible. He wanted to do right by the children who looked up to him. He clearly made friends with his co-stars and probably others who worked on the set. In one horrible moment, all of that was irreparably stained before everything he ever worked for and even the fact that he existed at all was completely erased...

The incident was likely so traumatic that his soul might have remained stuck in that moment, obsessing over how everything went wrong... and what he should have done to make it right...

I still stick with the headcanon that a recording of the incident was kept by some sick person who enjoyed snuff films. Specifically, the person who toyed with Joseph’s life kept it as a twisted little souvenir after everything was said and done, a last piece of someone whose life - and now even his death - belonged to them. They and the murderer might not have magically cursed Joseph to remain in the tape, but he would have every reason to haunt them. His death and that person could become an obsession, as he finally learned that their love for him wasn’t real and he saw how easily he was erased and replaced.

With this being the case, the reason why the tape wound up in the thrift store was because that person killed themselves in a horrible fashion. Think what happened with Nick, only far worse, and far more personal. They babbled about “him” in the end as they mutilated themselves and died in a horrible, tormented manner... Their possessions were then distributed among relatives, some stuff sold for quick cash if they seemed as worthless as old VHS tapes.

Joseph being Jack now is part of him abandoning his imperfect past, someone who was never loved. He’s “clean” now with a new start, new name... and a new love. He’s not addicted to drugs. He is handsome and whole. He’s always cheerful and friendly and helpful. He provides his sunshine so, so much now. And... obviously they love him. It’s why he’s there. It must be.

Alice was drawn to the tape because her heart was in a similar state of broken disillusionment and desperation for real love. It’s what allowed Jack to manifest as he does. It’s like finding just the right frequency where things just... fit.

Alice wants love. Jack wants love. Alice saved Jack from hell and cares about him. Jack can’t help but love his sunshine for everything she provides him. Eventually, Alice will show him that her love doesn’t require such strings attached.

Tragedy Repeats

What’s sad is that with this new theory, I’ve also gained a new theory about why Ian cheated. Ian was trying to make it as an actor. If someone at his fancy new college convinced him that the way to “play the game” as it were was to flirt with people and be friendly... it could have led to his mistake.

Hell, it could even be as dark as Ian being offered favors in exchange for sex. He could’ve gotten connections, a better grade, or even a part or modeling contact. With his low self-esteem he could have easily been swayed into thinking that it was the only way he was going to make it.

It doesn’t excuse Ian cheating, of course. He still chose his career, personal pleasure, and/or even just not being lonely in the moment over his relationship. He might have felt guilty in the aftermath, but, in the end, he chose himself before he chose his love for Alice.

It’s not surprising though. In that one teaser image of the past between Ian and his partner, he drunkenly once said that if his acting carrier didn’t work out, then maybe they could just “be together.” While this isn’t technically canon to the story, I’m still looking at it for my headcanon.

Just being with Alice was Ian’s fall back plan. She was convenient because she was always there supporting him when others sneered at and bullied him. She was defending him when people, particularly his mother, were awful to him. Her presence was sweet, addicting nostalgia. With Alice not around him all the time to protect him and keep him company in a new and unfamiliar place facing down an uncertain future that he desperately wants, well... he might have made some pretty selfish decisions.

That’s why Alice doesn’t want to love Ian anymore. He might say he loves her, he might want her back and to be with her, and he might even believe that she really is the most important thing in his life now... but when push came to shove, he proved that his wants are more important than her.

Ian getting back together with his ex is something he might be able to accomplish with some sunshines. After all, it is a route in the game. In that case it would be a redemption story on his end, where he made one bad mistake and learned from it the hard way.

It could be a sweet story, but I’m not going that route with Alice. She no longer believes that Ian’s love for her is real.

In a way, Ian’s desire to change is similar to how Jack learned from his mistakes as Joseph and changed himself in the present.

Jack and Ian have a lot of things in common... and I bet that would drive Jack pretty crazy.

Conventional Attractiveness is Everything

Getting back to the entertainment industry preying on actors, especially the pretty ones... Let’s go into a new idea that bloomed from the theory about Joseph.

Sunshine was mentioned to be degree hopping in college. Given the heavy emphasis of the entertainment industry in the game, and the Phantom of the Opera inspiration, this gave me the image that, initially, Alice was trying to make it as an actor alongside Ian at the start of college.

Sure, it was scary. Sure Alice was intimidated by it... but she was doing it alongside the man she loved. She helped him practice so often that she had gotten good at memorizing lines and acting out scenes right alongside him. They were both shy and nervous about it, but they supported each other to keep going. And wouldn’t it be romantic if they became stars together?

As you might expect, that didn’t work out.

One day, the acting professor had Alice stay behind after class. They informed her that she was “too fat” to make it as an actress. They weren’t even necessarily going out of their way to be cruel about it, but giving her a “harsh truth” before she developed an eating disorder to lose weight or something. At best, someone chubby like her would get parts that would make her the butt of cruel jokes for the audience to mock. Not to mention that the entertainment industry would eat someone as shy and insecure as her alive...

This was a huge blow to Alice’s already low self-esteem, as you might expect. It served as the tipping point along with other factors that made her decide to try for a different degree.

This incident did make Ian struggle as well. Suddenly his partner wasn’t working alongside him anymore, and suddenly there was added emphasis on looks, which he was always insecure about. However, in stark contrast with Alice, the same teacher encouraged him to continue.

Alice encouraged Ian as well, so he kept going to follow his dream. Unlike her, he had a chance. He was praised for his looks once he got to college by multiple people. He had a glow up. He was no longer that awkward kid anymore. He also wasn’t chubby like her, and besides, men can be forgiven a few extra pounds in acting roles...

And she was right. Ian made it as a model and actor. He even got into that fancy acting college abroad. Alice was so proud of him. She would miss him and felt so lonely without him, but she was sure that when he graduated and he finally started the career of his dreams that everything would work out in the end... They could both be happy. Together.

Conclusion

As you can see, this new theory about Jack’s death has pretty big implications, and has a lot of narrative reflections in other events in the story, including with other characters. It goes to show how much the entertainment industry can very badly negatively affect peoples’ lives, especially the characters in this story.

Sadly, we don’t know enough about what the entertainment industry is going to do to Shaun to know where this theory might reflect with him and his particular narrative arc, but he was shown as being overworked in a piece of teaser art... so I’m pretty sure that he’s not going to escape its painful stranglehold.

I hope you all enjoyed the theory and headcanons in this post. Honestly, there’s not enough clues yet about the actual murder and Joseph’s life to have anywhere close to a clear picture of how and why he died. For all we know, my joke theory was closer to the truth. Still, I find this idea appealing and I’m inclined to explore it further in Sunshine in Hell.

Speaking of, if you feel inclined to read the fanfic and like it, please let me know what you think. I absolutely adore all your feedback and it really encourages me to keep writing and coming up with headcanon posts and theories like this one. Thanks for reading!

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #swwsdj #sdj #Headcanon Ramblings

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okthatsgreat · 9 months

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hiii okay i just started reading opddmh and i was wondering if you have any thoughts about komaru and toko's relationship and udg in relation to the virtual reality au you're writing? :3c they are so precious to me and if u dont have any thoughts on it thats fine!! just wondering <3 have a good day!!

OOOO DEFINITELY !!! nothing too complex or thought out but ive definitely got some thoughts on it >:)

first things first ultra despair girls is most certainly some kind of spinoff in this universe! so its not considered a main storyline/killing game however it is still on ongoing series! i imagine after 53 seasons the danganronpa timeline has been seriously fucked up and udg is absolutely one of the main reasons its so wonky, you can IMAGINE all of the conspiracy youtube videos trying to piece that shit together lmfaooooo. but yep udg is a running spinoff series starring toko, komaru, and the warriors of hope (who are teenagers in this au at this point!!). it also features a range of other villains and side characters that were introduced later on :] udg definitely isnt as popular nor is it as consistent in its production as the main danganronpa story is (while danganronpa has at least one season per year, udg has one maybe every three), but it still gets a whole lot of views !! which means toko and komaru are unfortunately in it for the long haul </3

they live seperate from each other however they're over at each others apartments so often that they basically live together LMFAO. they rely on each other SO so heavily. i personally think they have romantic feelings somewhere underneath their fear of losing each other to the mental trauma of danganronpa however there is NO WAY danganronpa would ever let them be a couple. the most theyre allowed to do is queerbait ghfdsjkghjkdf. if they confirm anything between the pair they are destroying an entire market of fans they can profit off of and also likely losing hella sponsorship money. its extremely difficult navigating a relationship like that, where they have become so heavily codependent on each other not only because their wellbeing relies on the other being healthy and well but also because they've grown so close it's impossible to imagine a future where the other isnt involved somehow. everything danganronpa has put them through, it has usually been TOGETHER, which means they've bonded through those experiences. is that healthy? absolutely the fuck it is not however there is no time or space to navigate that or to spend time away from each other (even if they wanted to, which they don't)!!

the pair stay relatively close with the warriors of hope-- or at least komaru does lmfaooo. like i said before the warriors of hope are teenagers at this point (honestly theyre probably mius age!! which sparks a lot of hypothetical interactions LMAO) so they dont really need babysitters or anything like that but because there are not very many people who could possibly understand what they've gone through they tend to stick together!! a few of them, at least. i imagine nagisa is a lot more distant and kotoko probably has other friends she talks to a whole ton :] people that arent constant walking reminders of her current and past traumas lol

komaru also doesnt talk to makoto as often anymore! they kind of keep in touch and definitely see each other at press conferences and all that, but the relationship has become somewhat strained. its a bit awkward knowing they arent actually related!! theyre still kind to each other and care about each other like actual siblings but its hard not to feel sad around the other unfortunately :(

and toko definitely doesnt talk to byakuya much anymore besides the occasional promotional material LMFAO. they dont despise each other but both have done a lot of growing and a lot of that included distancing themselves from each other

SORRY IF THAT WAS MORE THAN YOU ASKED FOR!!! THANK YOU <33

#THANKS FOR THE QUESTION I LOVE ANSWERING <3 #“nothing too complex or thought out” answers with an essay #ask lee #opddmh #kukizuchis

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olivieblake · 1 year

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Here is me expressing to you my love for Saints and Liars (although not all of it because again space and time, but I hope I can express my love for this story effectively through words and virtually but hopefully one day in person it is super special to me and I hope you can feel that in this). Oh and spoilers of course. (Also I’m hoping part 1 of this went through it said it was received but then tumblr glitched so fingers crossed but if it didn’t please let me know I will resend it)

Saints and Liars: Dare I say this is my favorite story out of all your anthologies (so far at least)? I really think it is. Honestly I think I enjoyed this as much as I do your full length novels. THIS STORY IS PERFECTION. Cecily and Porter are EVERYTHING to me I’m actually obsessed with them and they altered my brain chemistry. Thank you for them.

Please enjoy a direct quote from my notes app the second I read the summary: “A WITCH GETS TRAPPED WITH THE MAN SHE’S PRETENDING TO DATE I’M ALREADY OBSESSED BASED OFF ONE SENTENCE IN THE SUMMARY I’M A HOE FOR FAKE DATING”. Also them being from a Midwestern town? Love. (okay so technically I am not from the Midwest because I am from good old and weird Pennsylvania and I’m sure if you asked a Midwestener they would probably say no and that’s fine. PA is a weird state we don’t have a geographical home other than the mid-atlantic because we also are not considered the east coast since we don’t touch the coast but clearly if you are from Philly you’re practically an East Coaster like Jersey is right there? These questions have haunted me all my life so I am very sorry for the side rant I will get back on track now. However, I am from the very western side of the state and I grew up like an hour or less from Ohio so I personally feel like some of the midwest culture/values exists in my town, so it was cool to see it!). I wanted to put this one on its own since it’s longer plus it’s not as organized as the others but I apologize for annoying you with all the many asks this time.

I don’t know what to title this section of this part of this so I’m just going to say extremely relatable content that I feel like you went into my brain and just took out of me:

“I do feel sad,” she mumbled in concession, glancing at anything else but his face. “And guilty, too. I’ve been gone for so long. I guess I just always thought time stopped around here, but obviously it doesn’t. I don’t know.” She eyed her hands. “I feel selfish for being upset but it’s hard.” “You’re allowed to have some sort of conflict about it,” Porter said,”

"And maybe," Porter continued, "you shouldn't bother feeling guilty. You're here now," he pointed out. "Why waste this time with her worrying about the things you could have done? Just...I don't know." He shrugged. "Be here. You know?"

“Porter cut her off, taking her face in both hands and giving her a long, searching look. “Don’t feel sad about time lost,” he said to her. “Just don’t waste a moment.”

Cecily and her grandmother’s relationship reminded me a little of my own in a sense. These three quotes were really relatable to me because I have also felt the same guilt she had about needing to leave the little town she grew up in. For me, I always wanted to leave for college and go out of state for myself, and I did and it was one of the best experiences I could have had for myself. But, at the same time my grandmother’s health was declining and she needed full time help since I was in about 5th grade or so? Growing up I used to be one of the people that were responsible for her on certain weekdays and weekends occasionally so I felt guilty for leaving in that sense. While I was at college it continued to worsen to the point where she needed help with all activities of daily living and every Christmas we all would be told “well this is probably Grandma’s last Christmas” (she lived way longer than the doctors thought she would and lived a full life, I can’t say her last years on the Earth were her truly living anymore but she was 96 and was surrounded by love and a true matriarch anyway side rant over again). With her being one of my favorite people, leaving each time for school knowing there was a huge chance she wouldn’t be there the next time was hard and I felt guilty that I wanted to be away from that place. So it became a big struggle sometimes and I don’t think I’ve really seen something like this expressed in words before but reading these quotes I was like wow YES THAT WAS WHAT I WAS FEELING.

Then the whole second part of just being here now and don’t feel sad about time lost and not wasting a moment was also how I dealt with being back in my town and getting to see her more often. I took every opportunity I could to go back up and say hi and make goofy faces at her to get her to smile and be a full time caretaker when they needed someone to fill in. Although sometimes I was a banker and not her granddaughter during the last 6-8 months of her life when I could be around her still felt meaningful to me and I’m glad that I could just be there with her without thinking about all the times I wasn’t. Anyway I am like tearing up writing that all but it felt cathartic. Also sorry sometimes I feel like we are friends so I just share my life.

Anyway, just yeah thank you for putting words to some emotions I felt.

Okay so some of my favorite moments that are way less heavy: From the second this man asked her to prom and she thought it was an obligation I was already screaming that IT’S NOT HE IS CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH YOU and I screamed when the idiot didn’t tell her that he would miss her. Evelyn cracked me up the entire book, her lines were 10/10, she is so funny. I love Porter, but the second he came up with his “plan” for revenge I literally wrote down “okay buddy sure, good luck with that you are clearly just going to fall back in love with her”. Porter is so smooth and has game truly I’m in love with him (he became one of my biggest book boyfriends bless you for him). Elenaor telling Porter to call her “Grandma Eleanor” ughhh I love it. His pretend poetry! Cecily just smiling at herself watching him work in the kitchen. HIS ENTIRE BODY ANGLING TO HER WHILE SHE TALKS AND BEING HIS ONLY PRIORITY AHHHH. THE WHOLE SCENES WITH THE STORM AND THE CAR ACCIDENT WITH HER IN A RED DRESS AND THE FORCED PROXIMITY AHHH SO GOOD (I’m literally screaming again just thinking about it). THE WHOLE SCENE OF THEM IN THE LIBRARY DRINKING ABSINTHE TOGETHER ON THE FLOOR AND EYES EACH OTHER UP WITH THE FLICKERING CANDLES UGH I WANT A FAN ART OF IT SO BAD (one day I will commission it that’s a promise) I’M OBSESSED. Him hating her boyfriend for no reason, ugh one of my favorite things. THEN THEY WENT TO THE GYM WHERE PROM WAS AND DANCE TOGETHER and him resting his chin on the top of her head and her resting her cheek on his chest while they are dancing (dance scenes are my kryptonite you literally do not understand how much I loved this scene I will also one day commission a fan art of this scene too). How he tucked her in his jacket!!! THE MOST IMPOSSIBLE MAN SHE’D EVER MET. Him remembering what desk she sat in during physics this many years later ughhh my man was down (and is down) so bad. THE WHOLE SCENE OF HIM TELLING HER TO BREAK UP WITH HER BOYFRIEND BECAUSE HE KNOWS SHE WANTS TO BE WITH HIM UGHHHH. Another direct fun quote from around this time in my notes: “PORTER IS SO FUCKING HOT I CANNOT I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM CECILY PLEASE JUMP HIS BONES “ I know it doesn’t really have to do with her but the fact that she was like “see you in physics I guess” which traumatized him and then him becoming a physics teacher was great (plus they did see each other and have sex in the physics classroom so full circle moment). “What do you want?” “You, Porter”. Him now knowing he can’t win unless she’s happy and trying to make long distance work ugh loved. He doesn’t want it to be pretend he wants it to be real and so does she ahhh. Forehead kisses and promises!!! Her grandma not being sick and just wanting her home because she was bored was so funny hahahah I did not expect that and I love it and her so much. His internal monologue stop “don’t go and please, if you do, take me with you” SO GOOD. SHE CAME TO SAY GOODBYE THIS TIME UGH. The frequent flyer miles!!! THE ENDING WITH HIM ASKING HER TO PROM AND HER SAYING YES THIS TIME (IN A RED DRESS NO LESS) UGH WHAT A FULL CIRCLE MOMENT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOUR HONOR LIKE SO MUCH

They had me literally kicking and screaming and giggling I love them so fucking much. They make me insane for real. I went on a deep dive and found Chmura’s three arts from this story and I DIED. They (her drawings and CecilyPorter) are BEAUTIFUL.

If you or anyone in your family ever needs an organ or anything I will happily give you one in exchange for a sentence more of CecilyPorter, I am desperate for more crumbs. Also so random but I am planning to take a picture with this story in a red dress with some (possible) absinthe-all depends if I can find a small bottle if not we shall pretend. I’m hoping to look hot in this (however, I am not a hot person so we will see if I can fake it for some pictures). Either way though I’m treating it as my birthday dress up as well as a way to celebrate this story. I’m planning to post it on my shared booksta as bday post (I’ll be 25 which seems crazy but I also have spent my whole life desperately wanting to be 30 so I am finally getting closer) so I will be sure to tag you of course to see the final product haha.

(Also cue me patiently waiting for Neelam’s fake dating book so I can scream about it because you write it so well)

Some quotes I enjoyed/reactions to them (there are a lot I really tried to narrow this down I promise):

“I have a boyfriend," she said again. "His name is Ansel. He's an artist." "That's great," Porter replied lazily. "What kind of art does he do?” "Murals, mostly. Street art." "Ah.” “Ah?" she echoed, turning sharply to him. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It's just a sound, Cecily," Porter said. "It typically indicates acknowledgement." "Oh, stop," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "You totally did it with a...a thing." "A thing?" "Yes, you did a thing, you had an...inflection-" "Do you want me to have an inflection?" She glared at him, watching his mouth quirk with suppressed laughter.” KICKING SCREAMING OH MY GOD THE “DO YOU WANT ME TO HAVE AN INFLECTION” AHHH AND HIM BEING JEALOUS LOWKEY STOP AHHH

“You're okay, We’re okay.” His fingers had laced tightly with hers. HE WAS SO CONCERNED WITH HER AFTER AND THE “WE’RE OKAY” AND HOLDING HANDS AHHH I LOST IT FOR REAL

“Like my mother always says: if she can’t make time fun, she can at least make it hard to remember” LOL

“In answer, Porter merely slid the bottle from her hand, taking another deliberate sip, and she, to her dismay, couldn't not watch him. (Blame the absinthe, she thought, for whatever she'd say next.) "What if you'd gotten out?" came courtesy of lowered inhibitions, and Porter let his eyes slide pointedly to hers. "What if you'd stayed?" he countered, and she swallowed. They sat in silence for a moment or so, her heart thudding and her mind racing, and then gradually, an actionable thought occurred to her.” OH MY GOD OH MY OH MY GOD I’M SCREAMING AHHH

”She matters to you” “Not just recently. Always.” “Everyone has a light and yours is brighter around Cecily.”...“Cecily makes everyone’s light brighter.” GRANDMA ELENAOR KNOWS THAT HE HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH HER HIS WHOLE LIFE

“A job is not a life, Cecily” amen Grandma Eleanor

“Cecily nodded, sobering a little at the reminder. "I'm sorry to disappoint you," she began, but her grandmother cut her off with a shake of her head. "Go see the world, Cecily. Your happiness is all you owe me. I only ask that you remember where your heart is,” she said, reaching for Cecily's hand. "So long as you follow where it leads, my dear, you can never disappoint me." Cecily laced her fingers with Eleanor's, holding her grandmother's hand.” this quote makes me miss my grandma

“I just think you should know you’re not alone, that’s all. And don’t worry about your mom. She loves you; she wants you to be happy.” He swallowed carefully, adding, “And just because your version of happy and her version don't look the same doesn’t mean you need to feel guilty about it.” VERY TRUE

“Unhelpfully, Porter recalled at that moment how Cecily’s kiss had tasted like every happy memory he’d ever experienced all compiled into one, limitless moment. She had been the warmth of familiar autumn spices and the heat of July all at once. She had been bright and crisp and tender and soft and he had been trying for days to forget, even for a moment, that nothing had ever passed his lips with such unshakeable perfection as the breath he’d taken from that kiss with Cecily Ayers, who was now looking at him as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time.” WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO WRITE LIKE THIS. LIKE IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL.

“It was only when she felt the comfort of knowing they were twined together at every possible axis of contact that she realized he'd been trying to pull her close, to keep her there, his lips finding her ear to say with painful gravity, "I missed you." She shivered, burying her face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. She may not have missed him before, but oh, she thought with sudden anguish oh, she would miss him now. "Stay with me," she whispered, and felt his solemn nod before he drew her lips to his again, kissing her to mindless oblivion.” ughhhh my loves

“Cecily felt drunker than she had on Maggie Callahan's absinthe for the entirety of breakfast. Porter had taken every opportunity he could to touch her-hands on her waist while she sliced some fruit, a wink while he flipped the pancakes, lips against her shoulder while she charmed the dishes clean, fingers floating up her spine as he handed her a plate-and all of it was positively intoxicating, equal parts excitement and joy.” domestic cecilyporter are adorable!!!

“This was it, wasn't it? This was what had been missing with Ansel, with every other person who'd never managed to fit into all the little spare parts of her life. They had all been the wrong shape, too saturated one way or another to blend with everything she was. There was something about Porter, some shade of him that seemed to complement every little hue of hers. He felt like home, and for the first time, that seemed boundless instead of limiting. For the first time since her father had passed away, Cecily found a place she belonged in Saint Sturm, and not even her mother’s exuberance could ruin it.” THIS QUOTE OH MY GOD HIM BEING THE RIGHT SHAPE AND SHADE AND HUE AND HIM FEELING LIKE HOME AND THAT WAS BOUNDLESS AND SHE FELT LIKE SHE BELONGED UGHHH I LOVE LOVE LOVE

“Miriam’s not here, is she?” she asked tentatively, and Eleanor chuckled, shaking her head. “No, not now,” she said, “but try not to say her name too many times or she might spontaneously appear.” LOL

Anyway typing all of this made me miss this story a lot. I might need to reread. Thanks again for this I will always be indebted to you.

-Amanda ❤️

okay so flashback, when I realized I needed to write another story for witch way and it was going to publish around the holidays and I didn’t know what to write and I just wanted something easy, I was like okay, I shall simply STEAL elements of mr blake’s life and hometown and how it feels to be home for the holidays (cue “tis the damn season,” also in case you didn’t already know mr blake is from a tiny town in iowa three miles from the minnesota border. it has a lot of problems—an article recently came out about the way rural america fails women—but it does make a good setting, especially because the car accident from the story REALLY HAPPENED TO ME and it was terrifying). and it turned out to be exactly what I wanted, which almost never happens. we did it joe!

anyway it’s a very tropey story but what I fell in love with while I was writing was the multigenerational aspect with the various women in the coven/family, and I have always wanted to revisit that. so it’s nice to know the story is so loved, because aspects of it definitely are alive in my head waiting for the right occasion! also yeah porter can get it

#filling the bucket #the answer you are looking for is yes

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