#wish this fic was a person so i could strangle it to death <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kocherry · 1 year

Text

⟡ Truthful Adoration in False Illusions ⟡

Pierro x Isekai!Reader

(Part 1/3) (Part 2/3 is here now :>)

I am really nervous to post this fanfic since this is only for my self-indulgence but I decided to share it with everyone. It has been years since I've actually written a fanfic this long.

In all honesty Pierro really did a number on me ever since the Winter Night's Lazzo trailer. Genshin really needs to release more dilf characters huhu. Aaaand this fic is inspired by numerous works but especially two fanfics namely:

Petty Desire by @shumidehiro and Disjecta Membra by @jessamine-rose (Please check them out they're fantastic writers!)

This is only the first half of my Pierro x Isekai!Reader because it'll be a hassle to read 30k words if I combined it all in one post :> Also please keep in mind that this is pre-released characters.

TW: Vomitting, Mental Instability, Mentions of Suicide, Death, Dottore, A lot of Holding Hands

< 15k words under the cut for Prologue, Acts: I, II, III >

⟡ Prologue ⟡

‘I am so pathetic.’

That is what you thought as you were dying in the sea of flames that consumed your entire house.

Perhaps coming back to save those thesis papers isn’t worth it. In hindsight you were a troubled adult that struggled between having a job and getting your own degree. Truly your ambition may not be that big but all you ever wanted is to get a better paying job.

If you had maybe your family would've been prouder of you.

The tears you shed dried up from the fire, your vision slowly made its way to the walls of your room. Your lips weakly smiled at the sight of your favorite character from Genshin Impact smiling down at you. Their hand is directed to your direction as if wanting you to take them.

How you wish you could just do that… you didn’t want to die yet... if only your favorite could save your life. Perhaps being inside the game wouldn't be so bad if you were there.

•••••

Gasping for air, sitting upward, letting out a strangled cough, the sun shined directly into your eyes. Looking around and noticing that this wasn’t a burning bedroom anymore. But instead surrounded by a bright blue sea, legs dipped slightly into the soft waves of the water. Back laid on the grainy white sand, it was more comfortable than dying on your bedroom floor.

First things first... you look at your hands realizing that you weren’t dreaming.

‘How the fuck did I not get any burned scars?’

You place a hand on your cheek then placing them in front of you counting them one by one, “Holy shit I'm still alive...” Then by the spaces between your fingers you had realize that you are not alone.

Your entire body froze at the sight of a silver haired older man with his face covered in half by a black mask. He stood tall, his figure loomed over you and his broad figure blocked your view of the sea. His diamond shape eye stares at you with such intensity that it made the sand you lay in start to melt.

Well, you got your wish to be in Genshin Impact, but at what cost? Well for starters this person in front of you is definitely not Paimon. Wait scratch that thought... he is by far the scariest man you have ever seen in your life.

There is no mistaken it, this person is the Jester, the Director of the Fatui Harbingers.

The outfit he wore isn’t quite different from the trailer. He just didn’t have the Fatui cloak draped around him.

“You're—wait wait don't kill me I'm not a threat!” You yelled at him with a hoarse voice, it’s as if your body is exhausted. Though you were surprised that your elbows could prop itself up.

“Princess (Y/N) I advise that you remain calm as you had just woken up after falling from Starsnatch Cliff.”

The Jester's frightening deep voice startled you badly. Honestly at this point you thought that this was all just a dream. Yet reality starts to sink in when your mind started to comprehend what he just said.

Wait a minute…

What did he just call you?

And did he say you just fell from the god damned famous wishing spot?!

“Princess (Y/N), do you not remember who you are?”

Ignoring the Jester, ran pass by him to see your own reflection in the water.

The reflection of your image became clear, the first thing you saw is that your eyes had diamond shaped pupils. You didn't look like yourself anymore like back in the real world. If this is how you look and if Pierro called you a Princess then there is no mistake that you have been reincarnated into another body.

When you wished to be in the game... Being the Princess of Khaenri’ah isn't what you had wanted. You only wanted to live in the game after seeing the smile of a poster of your favorite Genshin Impact character.

However… seeing that you were in the first spot where the traveler meets her traveler buddy…

You definitely in Mondstadt.

But the one who greeted you isn't of cute floating little girl.

Now you just have more questions than answers. Turning to the Director of the Fatui Harbingers with a pursed lip, you asked: "How many years has it been since Khanri’ah’s downfall?" Your question is difficult to say but the older man seems to be indifferent by it.

"...a century."

‘Shit so I'm 400 years early?!’ You bit your lip to conceal your bewilderment. “I'm afraid... I could not recall anything Lord Jester.” You bat your lashes at him, you didn't pass in feigning innocence but your diamond shaped pupils were wide in fear.

Pierro’s eye narrowed down at you, he certainly didn't expect you to treat him like a stranger. Though he didn't voice out his worries just yet... after all he could forgive this minor inconvenience since you had been in a coma for a while.

“It is understandable that your memories are not intact.” For now, he had seemed to believe (more or less going with the flow) with your lies. “Since you had woken up from the fall, I advise we must go to the camp and examine if there are injuries that needs to be well taken care off.”

The Jester’s show of concern surprised you, his tone shifted into a much softer tone. Somehow you could not believe how utterly different he is from the Winter Night's Lazzo trailer. He is rather calm and gentle so far, although if looks could kill, you would be dead by now.

You gulp a bit, perhaps you ought to just listen to him. But what if the Princess has bad blood with the Fatui? The Jester certainly didn't tell the reason why she fell from the cliff.... what if the Fatui did it because you weren’t of use to them anymore? Would they dispose of you again? Would you be subjected as Dottore's lab rat?

“Alright I guess I can come it's not like I have any other choice, right?” You feel utterly helpless by asking that, it’s as if you had any other option at all.

Though you did remember that some of the Fatui do have compassion. However, that may not be true for most of the Harbingers. But there is no way you were going to die again.

Not on your favorite game.

You place a hand over your chest, eyes determined instead of feeling hopelessness. This was not the moment to show the Jester that you were a weak-minded fool. “I may forget who I was but if I couldn’t remember a century of my life. Since I'm still alive, perhaps I can repay your kindness Lord Jester.” ‘Yes, this is utterly a good idea, offering yourself for the Fatui how dumb can you be?!’ You let the second sentence be an afterthought.

The Jester paused for a while, he certainly didn’t expect that you would be so calm. Anyone would start to break down if they suddenly lost their memories and to find out shortly that your home country, Khaenri'ah, has fallen. Perhaps he had underestimated how you value your nation or that you already had come to peace that the nation would fall someday. After all, the Princess of Khaenri'ah is the one who witness how the sages and King Irmin refused to heed to his warnings.

Either way it didn't matter anymore for what you thought. He could tell that there is no lies when you told him that you couldn't remember the past century you had lived in his care.

“Lord Jester...?” You ask after realizing he went silent for a minute.

The Jester snapped out of deducing what was happening. He certainly thinks that this is too much of a troublesome situation he is in. “Princess, I would have to consult your condition to a medic. I will have the soldiers immediately prepare our voyage back to Snezhnaya. Meanwhile it is on your best interest to cooperate so that you can recuperate from your memory loss.” When he suggested this, all you could do is nod and follow after him when he held out his hand towards you.

Somehow a flash of red encased your vision and the burning wallpaper of your bedroom is in sight. Then a poster of your favorite Genshin Impact character didn't burn among the rest.

Was that really what happened?

Wait why is the Jester the one holding out his hands?

“Or do you need more time to rest in the city of Mondstadt?” He asks though his tone shifted into a softer one, yet gaze is still intense as ever.

But much to your relief his hand is still open for you to take and it would seem your presence is accepted... for now at least.

This time you are able to place your hand to the one holding it out to you. Taking note how warm his hands were as he held yours.

Oh by the way...

This is a story after I died in the real world then getting isekai'd into Genshin Impact but why the fuck is the Director of the Harbingers is the one who greeted me instead of Paimon?!

⟡ Act I: Masquerade ⟡

Masquerade! Paper faces on parade... Masquerade!

Hide your face, So the world will never find you! Masquerade!

Every face a different shade... Masquerade!

Look around - There's another mask behind you!

•••••

The lush green of trees, bushes, and plants.

The river stream flowing from the rocks above.

The Barbatos Statue of the Seven stood tall in the middle of Starfell lake.

And the fake blue sky had the sun giving light to Mondstadt’s environment made the scenery quite beautiful. Truly is a wonderful sight for any daily Genshin Impact player seeing it with their own eyes in real time. Being able to walk into the nation of Mondstadt, the beginning of the game, is truly a good part of this isekai fanfic.

However, the only downside is that the Director of the Fatui Harbingers is the one who is accompanying you. Perhaps it wasn't what you had wished for but besides him... nothing could ever ruin your day.

Maybe except for the fact that you've actually reincarnated into the body of a Princess of Khaenri’ah.

At least together with Pierro you were at least able to travel safely since he avoids monster camps and he even lend you his coat since the clothes when you woke up is quite a mess. If you were alone, you would’ve fought a hilichurl with a rock or a stick then die pathetically.

“Wait a second Lord Jester.” You halt in following after him, there is something on your mind for what he said earlier. “Are we really going back Snezhnaya immediately? I don't even remember living there or even meeting you at all.”

The Jester once again narrows his eye towards you. It's as if he's analyzing the way you would act. Whether it be talking, walking, or even looking in awe with your surroundings. You felt bare in his gaze and yet you didn’t find his constant staring hostile.

He then lets out a deep sigh after realizing that you had honest reactions of having a memory loss. He reluctantly let’s go of your hand, “Princess (Y/N) you were under my care after Khaenri’ah has fallen. Three months ago, you left Snezhnaya for a diplomatic mission in Sumeru. You never had reported back and we traced that you’ve been in Liyue, Inazuma, and finally...” He pauses for a while not wanting to overwhelm you with information.

“Found me in Mondstadt where I fell from Starsnatch Cliff?” You finished his sentence but wanted to ask how did you fall but didn't since the Jester wouldn’t probably disclose that information.

The Jester pursed his lips he knew that lying would be terribly bad for his image towards you especially at this stage of your so-called memory loss.

At this point, you didn't trust him enough to lead you to camp without so much doubting his words. “The Fatui does not take traitors very lightly, you may leave if you wish so. However, beware that there is no place in Teyvat that you could hide.” The harsh glare from his deep blue eyes made you shiver.

‘What the fuck did the owner of this body do?!’

You whisper yell at yourself after hearing what he had said. Out of all the people you could isekai into, it's someone who did the Fatui wrong. And so, without any choice you continue to follow Pierro to the camp.

This time you didn't feel the warmth of his hand on yours.

Although it is kind of weird that he even held your hand in the first place.

‘Maybe he's trying to gain my trust since he thinks can't remember anything?’ You ask yourself that, no answer came into mind of course. In all honesty you wanted to tell Pierro that you were not the Princess. That seems like a bad idea now since the Fatui might misinterpret it as the Princess trying to escape from her crimes against them. Or worst-case scenario they might give you up to Dottore for further examination.

You shudder at the thought.

•••••

Okay maybe you were just being paranoid because you were definitely not treated as a prisoner when the Jester brought you to a Fatui camp. Instead of being put into handcuffs, the soldiers just served you a warm cream stew soup and chicken skewers as a side dish. Then you were also the only one inside the tent slightly shivering but with the coat that the Jester lend to you earlier… at least you feel warm and covered.

Not that you were ungrateful or anything but he literally just called you a traitor and now you were getting away with it?

‘Oh shit, what if he’s just making sure that we would lay low and not attract any surveying knights?’

You stare at the Jester talking to the Fatui agents who were preparing a small carriage and the horses which concludes your disappointment not being able to camp outside.

“Princess, you haven’t finished your food, do you feel ill?” He caught you peeking at the slight opening of the tent, although he immediately ignored you after asking that question. “Get the Cicin Mage, she needs a fresh change of clothes.”

“Wait Lord Jester-”

The tent opened itself but it wasn’t Pierro anymore, it was an Electro Cicin Mage that greeted you as she zips up the entrance of the tent. “Greetings Princess (Y/N), since we are both women, Lord Harbinger permits me to assist you.” She is holding a clean and brand-new clothing, it’s not like what you had seen on Sneznhayan NPCs.

The clothes look like what noblewoman in Snezhnaya would wear. Its shade matches the shade of your favorite color and it would help in making your skin tone shine as well. Although there is a fluffy coat made from a wolf’s fur that would cover your skin.

“Thank you it looks beautiful Miss uh… what’s your name?” You accepted the clothes of course delighted it matches your aesthetic but you also want to know the Electro Cicin Mage’s name since she would be with you on the journey back to Snezhnaya.

“…” She didn’t react and you don’t know what expression she makes behind her mask.

“Oh, are you not allowed to tell?” You ask tilting your head slightly.

“Forgive me Princess (Y/N), I just find it hard to believe that you had lost your memories but you may call me Natalia.” The Electro Cicin Mage replied her nonchalant tone retained.

“I like your name, Natalia.” You gave her a sympathetic smile thinking that she may have known the Khaenri’ahn Princess. “I can change by myself, since I don’t feel really weak but uh thank you for the sentiments.”

Natalia just nodded as she turns around while you change into a much cleaner and fresher clothing. After a few minutes, you tapped her shoulder then unzipped the tent.

“Alright I’m done changing, so when are we leaving?”

The Jester is the only one outside as the other soldiers along with Natalia who hurriedly went to help were still arranging the carriage ride (probably into Mondstadt’s city). “You seem to be more complacent Princess (Y/N), earlier today you did not desire to be return in Snezhnaya.” He raises an eyebrow curious about your sudden desire to leave.

“Well not that I have any choice, plus… my life would also be in danger if I won’t be with the Fatui.” You say that fact first of course but seeing how his face starts to contort into a frown you immediately backed up your poor choice of words. “Oh Lord Jester, you may call me just (Y/N), princess is just an empty title now.”

Your request is simply more personal and despite the fact that may wear the Princess’ mask, you were still (Y/N) by heart. Being called a princess from a nation that has been obliterated is merely an insult to the surviving people of Khaenri’ah, and the Jester is of course one of them.

“Very well (Y/N) we shall sail ten days from now, you may extend your recuperation in my estate in Snezhnaya.” Yet somehow the Jester is indifferent from the request, he focuses more on your well-being. “You need not to call me formally by title, when it’s only just the two us, you may call me Pierro.”

Now that you are actually processing that you were inside the gacha game you had often played…

Did your ears betray you? You certainly are surprise by Pierro’s request as well.

Did your eyes betray you? You saw his lips turn into a soft and small smile but it disappeared quickly as it came.

Did your mind betray you? You just spent five hours in this world with him and even when he calls you a traitor, he does not treat you like one. You would think that he only keeps you because you’re probably a useful character and yet you did not feel used.

It feels the opposite, you were using him just to be comfortable in your isekai experience.

Perhaps you were not the only one parading in this masquerade of lies, the Jester still has not disclosed his relationship with the Princess. If he truly calls her a traitor then why do you receive warm food and getting assigned Natalia to be your personal body guard/helper?

“Shall we head to the City of Mondstadt?”

Maybe the answer would come by another time, you were too busy taking his gloved hand once again.

•••••

9 days later…

Teyvat is quite different in the perspective of being with the Fatui. Aside from the indifferent attitudes of the soldiers, you were at least compensated in being able to explore the City of Mondstadt for nine days now. Of course, Natalia is the one who is your bodyguard or personal assistant? Whatever she is, it’s still kind of annoying how she would always follow you everywhere even staring at you intensely while you go to the comfort room.

At this point you didn’t think much about your privacy, if you did it again… Pierro will beat your stubbornness with his logical expiation about how your health needs to be monitored… blah blah blah you stopped listening to him since you were distracted by the smell of Mondstadt’s local foods.

And speaking of the Jester, he hasn’t shown his face around for two days now and tomorrow is your last day in experiencing Mondstadt and you’ll probably never come back here again. Even though you were satisfied with the tour, you kind of wish you could glide everywhere and collect mushrooms on top of rooftops. Or maybe even blow dandelion on top of the Barbatos statue in front of the Favonius Cathedral.

“Lady (Y/N), you’re spacing out again do you need to rest?”

“Ah no worries, Natalia I was just wondering if I could do a summersault if I could glide from the hand of the Barbatos Statue.”

“That would be unfortunate Lady (Y/N), your neck may break if you fail.”

Natalia’s dark and dry humor is what keeps you sane sometimes, but despite the fact that she is growing into you then vice-versa she still won’t listen to your requests.

“Hey Natalia,” You call out her name softly

“Yes My Lady?” The maid immediately replied.

“Uhm it’s quite alright, you really can call me just (Y/N).” You have been tirelessly asking everyone to drop the lady title and especially to Natalia for the last six days.

“It is within the interest of the Jester that you would be addressed properly. After all you are still recuperating from your fall in Starsnatch Cliff and could not remember the past century that you had lived with him.” And of course, Natalia’s answer is the same as always.

Although you find it odd that the daughter of King Irmin would be with the Jester. From the lore you had read, he didn't gain the favor of the sages and royalty about his warnings.

Ah maybe you two were friends before in Khaenri’ah.

That’s literally the only explanation you could really come up with.

Disregarding those serious topics, at this point you have given up hope that Natalia would call you by your name instead. So, you grabbed her hand surprising her a bit since she has been given strict orders not to touch you. “Let’s go to a tavern, I want to talk to you like a friend I’m quite tired of not being able to communicate properly with anyone who see themselves beneath me.” You gave her a pout to emphasize that you did not enjoy having someone to treat you as their superior.

“I have nothing to share Lady (Y/N), all my life I only have been a Fatui soldier, so you might just be listening to a teacher instead of a friend.” She replied with a deep sigh knowing she would have to give in.

“If I am to learn, shouldn't I be hearing it from someone who lives in Snezhnaya? I do want to learn more about the country that I somehow forgot in remembering…. in your own perspective of course." You were looking at her with puppy eyes hoping she would be okay with your request.

“Very well ask away Lady (Y/N) but no alcoholic drinks.” Natalia replied which made you smile.

•••••

“...and that is why we would always follow the Tsaritsa. She does not need to be alone in the war against the Heavenly Principles.” The way Natalia spoke is as if she had lived through a rough life then having a place in the Fatui. Although she censored a lot of things related to the organization meaning that Pierro might have been the one to order her in withholding the information regarding the Fatui.

Again, you were not interested in them, you were always curious about the remaining three unreleased nations. Snezhnaya presented itself as available to learn so why bother hiding your curiosity about the nation that has a bigger role in the game.

It is most interesting that despite their differences and ailments towards one another they always have one thing that they agree. All soldiers in the game speak highly of their loyalty to the Tsaritsa and Natalia isn’t an exception.

“A most delightful insight Natalia!” ‘Although it got boring and I zoned out a bit but still…’ “I admire your passion to your archon.” Despite being satisfied with your curiosity about the Tsaritsa, you were distracted by more important details. Such as the relationship of the Khaenri’ahn Princess to the Director.

Every time you think about him, your stomach starts to sink in with heavy guilt, that’s what you had noticed for the last nine days. And earlier you did come up that maybe they were friends since he treats you kindly… now your curiosity got the better of you. With a gentle clap you brought Natalia’s attention to you.

“So now tell me more about the Jester.”

Natalia seemed surprised by the sudden shift of your mood and the soldiers that is nearby the tavern doors perked up with the mention of their boss.

Suddenly the air felt colt despite the tavern having a hearth that continuously producing heat.

You could tell you made a mistake by showing that you are aware of your situation as a prisoner. You held both of your hand up, “Ah I see he made sure that I would not run away by being friendly. Ha! I'm fully aware that the Jester is keeping me as a prisoner. Besides if I prove myself that I can cope in this foreign country I can be some use, right? In that way...” Your tone is soft and gentle, which made Natalia flinch, she isn't really good with dealing with such a venomous hiding in the softest expression.

“...I can slap Pierro in the face that he made a mistake in imprisoning me!”

Natalia takes everything she thought of you as a gentle soul with a motherly personality, you were like a wild hilichurl who always have an unpredictable behavior.

“U-Uhm L-Lady (Y/N). you should not talk about the Jester like that!” She stuttered not wanting to get into trouble as she stares at the space behind you that is now occupied by the said person.

“And why I shouldn't I? The Jester is not even here, besides he's busy with the meeting between him and other harbingers." You cross your arms but then saw the maid’s eyes that is staring at the space on your right. You suddenly became extremely nervous, "Oh shit... he's right behind me isn't he?”

“I was always behind you all this time Lady (Y/N).”

‘Oh.’

‘Ohh..’

‘Ohhh…’

‘I fucked up lol.’

Natalia excused herself while you turn around to face the Jester. He didn't seem amused nor does he look annoyed, he just stares at you blankly.

On the other hand, the Jester is actually surprised by your behavior (deep inside his blank stare), it honestly contradicts with how he viewed you as before. Although despite the fact that you are a Princess of Khaenri'ah, he already could tell that you already know your place. You were really going to play hard to get at his attempts of being patient towards you and in all honesty, he really didn’t have any ulterior motives… maybe he has but…

Now you just threatened to slap him, it amuses him.

“Such attitude is unbecoming of a royalty such as you Lady (Y/N).” Well despite his inner thoughts, his expression is somewhat annoyed by what he had heard.

“If you scold me, can you at least drop the formality? I’m definitely not a Lady or anything.” Honestly if they call you Lady (Y/N) again for the nth time, there is always the temptation to slap Pierro for real.

“For some reason the title isn’t really farfetched to the Princess title, I don't know who she is nor do I care to become her.” Although it is pretty convenient that you share the same name as the original Princess.

Indeed, you looked like the Princess of Khaenri'ah who wasn't even mentioned in game. However, there were features that you could see yourself as. If not for the diamond shape pupils you would look no different from the real world.

“Very well, (Y/N), I should have not dishonored the drop of the titles when we are together.”

Your ears perked up by the sound of the Jester's voice saying your name for the first time since the day you met him. “It would seem that I underestimated how much you had remembered. You are more perceptive than I thought. So, I am going to be honest with you…”

‘Wait is he going to really discuss this with a lot of Fatui soldiers and Natalia overhearing us?’

“There are traces that you recently used the Art of Khemia before you jumped from Starsnatch Cliff.”

⟡ Act II: Music of the Night ⟡

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination

Silently the senses abandon their defenses

Helpless to resist the notes I write

For I compose the music of the night

•••••

You were taken aback from what Pierro had said, the Art of Khemia is now the lead reason to why you were isekai'd to this world.

‘Alchemy that is said to be the biggest factor in the fall of Khaenri’ah. So that means the princess might've been afraid of dying but the question is... did we actually just switch places?’

‘Wait why would she even be afraid if she willingly jumped…?’

‘Fuck her and fuck this situation holy shit…’

You shook your head now is not the time to be distracted. You need to know if you are allowed to investigate if you can go back to the real world. “Wait are you afraid of what I can do? Are you not also waging war against Celestia itself so why be cautious of me performing alchemy?” The questions were already answered because by the look in the Jester’s eye.

It would seem that he disapproves of what you plan to ask next.

“I had not lied to you that you jumped intentionally, you wanted to die, and it is merely your own consciousness that responded to your will to live that made you use alchemy as a last resort.” The Jester seems to fixed on the idea that you know the alchemy. “Art of Khemia is forbidden to use, I do not wish to awaken the Heavenly Principles, at least not yet...”

‘Of course, not yet... the Gnoses would only be collected 400 years from now. Great just great, I might be fucking stuck with him for a while!’ You shifted your thoughts to that part and not the fact that the Princess tried to kill herself.

Despite the desire to actually just tell Pierro the truth about yourself. It would seem that it’s a dangerous thing to do. He hates the Heavenly Principles and from what you had read in the Enkanomiya story quest they were also descenders from another world.

So, if the Jester were to find out that you too are a descender, perhaps your fate would be in the hands of the Doctor. 'Normally I'd say why not since Dottore is hot, but perhaps it's not really a good mindset to simp for anyone in this game.' You cloud that thought not wanting to become a perverted isekai character like the ones you would read in light novels.

“Then can I at least act like a citizen of Snezhnaya? You can assign guards around me if you wish so. I do not want to remain a prisoner by your orders.” You suggested, not wanting to be useless and a piece of decorative prisoner under his care.

The Jester looks at you with a raise eyebrow as he sits on the empty seat beside you. He honestly is still baffled that you were quite sure that he is treating you like a prisoner. His gloved hand reached out to yours placing them on top. His thumb gently caressing your forehand.

Your cheeks suddenly became red from the contact.

“(Y/N). If you feel that you are a prisoner, cease those senseless thoughts. I am merely looking out for your well-being.”

It actually surprises you that he would actually care for your mental health. Not that you could blame him if he would still have such disdain towards the royal family. Then again you wouldn’t complain that much, maybe the Princess is now definitely a close friend to the Jester.

Wait you really haven't asked him about that part, "Err... are we friends Lord Jester? Because you seem to care about me which is odd since you're you... you know?" Not wanting to be rude about his stoic and indifferent attitude, you didn't say anything to make this even more awkward than it already is.

“What?”

“Ah nevermind it's a weird question!”

“If that is how you want to play it, then I shall indulge such foolishness.” The Jester lets out a deeply annoyed sigh, “Do as you please and maybe you can be useful to the Fatui and Her Majesty.”

Some use huh? So, the Jester thinks nothing of you but a tool? Of course, what did you expect from the Fatui Harbinger. After all, knowing their lore so far, Pierro and Dottore were by far the scariest amongst them.

The way they manipulated Scaramouche's life, it’s as if they would disregard all life for the goal of burning the Old World.

You did not think any of this too deeply, once you find out how to switch with the real Princess again. You would be back into the real world and leave this world for good. Genshin Impact is much more enjoyable if you would be thrown to Mondstadt without actually reincarnating in the body of a person who has deep ties with the Fatui Harbinger Director.

‘Wait...’

‘What's Genshin Impact again?’

You suddenly panicked flinching your head sidewards making the Jester raise an eyebrow. ‘Why did I suddenly question my own reality?’ You look at the older man and strained a smile.

“Now I can't wait to get out of this nation and actually see Snezhnaya for real.”

Now if there is anything that the Jester could conclude for today's interaction is that you hide your real emotions through a bravado façade. From the reports of your maid, it would seem that you love to engage in nonsense conversations. You perk up the moment they serve hot chocolate and cookies when you take a break from reading. You who often poke the soldiers randomly while Natalia scolds your behavior.

You are quite a headache to the soldiers...

But the Jester honestly did question himself if you're having an identity crisis or if you did actually lose memories of the past century you spent with him. It troubled the former royal mage because the Princess of Khaenri'ah started to revert to your attitude before the Cataclysm. You were always a curious girl and talkative as well.

So why did you suddenly revert to the Princess he knew before the Cataclysm? Does your memory loss have anything to do with it? ...Or is it something else?

“However, I still cannot allow you to be without any soldier accompanying you just yet. You would need time to recuperate and it is unwise to rush in adjusting to your situation and maybe I shall allow you to pick up your claymore once again.” Again, the Jester talks as if he really doesn’t believe that you have already

‘Wait back the fuck up am I gonna be like a playable character once I can prove to him that I recovered?’

“If I can prove myself, will you finally disregard the soldiers but I’ll have Natalia if it would ease your mind!” You suddenly have a stupid plan but it’s worth a try.

“Pray tell how on Teyvat are you going to prove that you are recovered?” He raised an eyebrow already expected something ridiculous would come out of your mouth.

“I challenge you to a chess match!”

Consider him a prophet, he is right to assume that you are an idiot. You never beat him once before and most especially now that he assumes about your memory loss.

And of course, to prove your worth to Pierro, you challenged him for a match in chess. That is the only reason you could think of, he is an intelligent man after all. He wouldn't be the Director of the Fatui Harbingers if not for his tactical mind.

Although the look of surprise in his expression is something you would relish. Since he didn't expect that the Princess would actually be so bold in threatening him in front of his subordinates.

Perhaps he would believe that you are a descender from another world like how you would often whisper to yourself.

Yes, he can hear you by the way, you are not as discreet as you think.

“Well? Are you not going to accept? You know Lord Jester this is not a behavior I would expect from someone like you. Are you afraid that you might lose to me?” Your behavior can be quite irritating, you know how to pull your strings and by challenging him while the subordinates he borrowed from the Doctor and the Fair Lady that were stationed in Mondstadt are present… it meant he needed to accept.

Gossips are more bothersome than dealing with you.

Pierro didn't break eye contact as he steps forward utterly disregarding the close proximity between the two of you. He notices your cheeks reddening and that made his lips quirk upwards. "Is this how you would beg for my attention? Perhaps it is time that I teach you a lesson for being such a headache." He lifted your chin upwards with his glove fingers, he knew how to make you squirm.

And he succeeded.

You were far more endearing when you try to take control of the situation but in the end, you never were in control.

You were always at his mercy.

“Let us begin.”

Pierro breaks contact from holding your chin, he stands up leaving you alone in the couch. He went to the nearest soldier ordering them to prepare a room for the chess match. While you on the other hand stare at him dumbfoundedly wondering if he is mocking you or seducing you. Either way your face is incredibly red as you grumbled.

“Damn it, here I thought someone like Scaramouche is my type.”

You utter those words out loud and the Fatui solders who heard you started to question if themselves if you were insane. And Natalia’s response is wanting to have a mental breakdown.

•••••

Of course, in conclusion you had lost that chess match.

You did last at least two hours against him until he utterly cornered your white king piece on the corner of the chess board. The empty space had been your downfall, it was a blocked road to make sure the white king is being surrounded by the white pieces.

The match is lost due to the fact you moved your white pawns to save them which made way for his black queen and black knight piece to corner your king piece.

“There is no need to feel defeated Lady (Y/N), you lasted against Lord Harbinger for two hours to which he does recognize that you are recuperating faster than the medic had anticipated.” Natalia spoke up after she notices that you were not paying attention to the bard that is playing in the middle of the plaze, just underneath the statue of Barbatos.

“Aw Natalia that’s the first time I heard you being so nice to me.” You tease your companion, although she did have a point of not being upset. Despite losing the chess match Pierro still allowed you to roam Mondstadt for a few hours since he still has some final business to tend to.

“I am merely stating a fact Lady (Y/N).” She blankly replied, “And I have to ask if you had enjoyed enough of the view of the Favonius Church and the statue of the Anemo Archon.”

There were glares and stares directed at the two of you, yet their gaze would not linger because of the bard that was still performing.‘Oh, right I forgot the Fatui has a bad rep here I guess I underestimated their ability to piss off people in different nations at their century of existing.’ You let out an unbothered hum because technically you were not part of the Fatui, the Princess is. “We’ll go after the bard is finish performing his piece.” In all honesty you just wanted to listen to the ballad since you haven’t really heard it after gloating over your lost to the Jester.

The bard with twin braids dressed in all green and white is looking at you while he strums his lyre and sang a ballad that made your body turn cold.

“You take in anything the ego tells you

Whatever you believe, it will always be a lie to you

The truth is constantly hidden by deceptive mental concoctions

Clear your perceptions from your palette

Be free of egoic contamination to see clearly

Peace emerges from the calm of the mind~”

Your stomach churned at the lyrics of the song, it’s as if it insulted your very mind and soul. The bard’s words were meant to ease the people who were listening. And yet why didn’t it do the same to you? Why were you wallowing in guilt that for some unknown reasons is buried deep inside your consciousness?

Then familiar voices started playing inside your mind, there were two people that spoke, one is your own voice and the other…

Your vision suddenly shifted into a different scene.

“After all these years why have you begun to regret what we had done? Do not forget that you were the one who started this with me.”

“I wish I did forget all of this.”

“It’s time to end these foolish theatrics (Y/N), if you wallow in your delusional fantasies then you will truly succumb to madness.”

“Then so be it, █ █ █ █ █.”

A strangled gasp came out from your throat, bile rose up from your stomach and you fell on your knees with tears in the corners of your eyes. You clutch your chest and heaved, ‘What the fuck was that memory inside my head? And whose name was the one that the Princess had uttered?’ Your ears were ringing and the bile you held back from the back of your throat has finally relieved itself.

“Lady (Y/N)…? Lady (Y/N)…!”

Your vision started to blur but you could still make out the view; Natalia yelling, the Fatui soldiers hurrying to your side, and the bard who played that dreadful song started to walk towards your direction.

A warm comforting wind enveloped your entire body. The pain stops along with your consciousness as the world began to fade in black.

•••••

When you came to be the first thing you observed is the wooden ceiling, the smell of the ocean, and the slight sensation of rocking. Alarmed by the fact that you were most definitely in a ship, you sat up immediately which is a bad decision. Your head started to ache again and bile threatened to escape your mouth once more.

“Fuck…” You curse under your ragged breath. “Is this the consequences of switching bodies with the Princess?”

You murmured as you turn to your side and to see the window that gave you the view of the ocean, the fake sky turned dark projecting the illumination of the fake moon and stars to the water. Once again you stare at your reflection instead of the view, you were still (Y/N) with the same features as in the real world, the only difference is the diamond shape pupils in your eyes.

“(Y/N) you should lay down again.”

The Jester had been sitting at your side and it would seem he was there ever since you were brought into the ship. His hand hovered over your shoulders and yet he refuses to touch you afraid that you might break like glass.

‘Wait…’

‘Did he hear what I just said?’

“I already ordered the Cicin Mage to bring you warm water and soup.”

‘Maybe not since he didn’t question me, I probably just said that out loud inside my mind.’

Since you weren’t responding Pierro never talked again, you just lay back down and did what he told you since your head is still pounding. After a while Natalia came inside to place your warm soup and water just beside the table near your bed to where Pierro sat. Her gaze lingers at your form for a few seconds and excused herself right away to leave the two of you alone.

“Okay this is really awkward Pierro, I think I’m alright now but… I don’t know whether or not I want to immediately move to Snezhnaya.” You broke off the silence first because the atmosphere would become more intense if the two of you would continue to gloat in silence.

“You may scorn me for leaving Mondstadt but we need you to be checked by the finest doctor in Snezhnaya one that could help in your case.”

When the word ‘doctor’ is heard your vision began to change.

“I suppose you have my gratitude. This amount will suffice until my experiment is a success. You were the one who killed this minor god right?”

“A fine observation Doctor, is the blood on my claymore not enough proof?”

“Oh no no, I'm just curious since you do know the consequences of killing a god. The people are plagued with madness already so I thank you for saving me the trouble of finding new test subjects for the archon residue you had collected.”

“Do not test me Zandik. Get to the point.”

“Hahahahah! Hah. It's just amusing that you once called me a monster but are we really so different Princess (Y/N)?”

“No! Do not bring me to that crazy fucker!”

In all honesty you would have just normally tell him calmly but your chest began to constrict and your stomach churned at the thought of Dottore. The memories started to flood your head once again, your arms flail as you smelled the miasma dried blood that is poison to most humans. The memories of the Princess with the Doctor plagued your mind and clouded your logic to respond appropriately.

“I would never let Dottore check on your health, he isn’t the best person to ask that of him. What I meant is the group of doctors that is based in Snezhnaya’s capital.” Pierro replied calmly although his eye widens the second you had yelled at him. “We need to get you examined otherwise you might self-destruct again.”

Your heart skips a beat at the tone of his voice. It’s as if this body of yours is programmed to be flustered at everything he says or do.

“I’ve always wondered… isn’t it a great traitorous sin to betray the Fatui? So why bother yourself with me. Be honest Pierro… I just want to know.” You pleaded because the very fate of your existence in this game depends at the fate of the Princess of Khaenri’ah. You looked helpless in the Jester’s eyes, one that he is not used to seeing you in such state of distress. You were confused and afraid, yet despite the fact that he knew that you often mumble about this world being in a game, what you experienced so far is quite real.

With a sigh Pierro cups your cheek, his thumb gently brush your soft skin. “If you would stop lying to yourself, you would find it easy to believe why I would do this for you and pleaded for your mercy. Had it been up to Her Majesty, you won’t find forgiveness in the land of ice and snow.” His tone shifted from a soothing voice to a cold one. You learned that whatever the Princess had done must’ve pissed of the Tsaritsa and that Pierro would have to obey her had she not accepted his plea.

“Had you accepted our fate had been damned from the beginning we would not have been in this situation. Nevertheless, who am I to scrutinize you when I am partly to blame of what happened between us.” He added as he lets go of your cheek after realizing his touch had lingered to your warmth longer than you had realize.

Although you did not expect that honesty from him.

“Will you play another round with me?” You ask wanting to change the topic.

“Does this game have anything in return?” He asks and… was the Jester teasing you?

“Nothing at all, I merely wish for a companion. Just to get my mind off of things… if you are not too busy of course.” You didn’t want to further analyze the situation besides why would you face the consequences of the Princess if she’s not even you in the first place.

“Very well, I shall indulge your wishes.” He gives in to your request, “However, I am not foolish enough to know that you are diverting this topic (Y/N) when the time comes, I need you to accept what will happen.”

“If that is the case when that time comes when I am to be honest with you, will you listen to me first?” You wanted to clear up this whole misunderstanding about you being the Princess because Pierro had misplaced his sentiments to you instead of her.

“Like I said when you find it in your soul to accept, I will consider it.” He replied, well that was to be expected but you accepted his answer with a nod.

And just like that another game of chess had begun as Pierro brings the board to your bed with a much more relaxed expression. As he arranges the pieces you quietly observed the older man, his expression did not much how his eyes look so desolate as if he is longing for something. Perhaps his homeland? Or is it the real Princess he had miss? It was certainly an emotion you had not expect when the fans and some speculation deemed him as someone who is determined for a war that will end the Heavenly Principles.

“Let us begin.”

Despite your unfortunate experience in getting isekai’d in Genshin Impact, getting to know Pierro is the one you somehow enjoy. So, for now you let your mind wander to this the soft and deft music of the soft splash of the sea waves and the tap of the chess pieces as you both move them around. Although it is Pierro’s presence that you can feel and hear it closing around you.

For tonight you would open up your mind and let your fantasies unwind because in the dark night at the sea, you cannot fight your fate in this world. At least not yet. So, for now you let yourself get immerse in a game of chess and accept Pierro’s presence.

“Like I said before (Y/N), do not let your pawns be your downfall, they are called pawns for a reason so you should at least keep that in mind.”

Your thoughts stop as Pierro takes your white bishop.

“Fine fine… I just can’t help it you know?” You shrugged but despite being nonchalant about it you notive that Pierro means to break the towering strategy before letting his black knight and black rook to corner your white king. “I’m often known as a soft person back in my world and ugh I really need to admit to myself that its okay to use others to win.” Okay maybe you really ought to be careful of your choice in words but this game is making you lose concentrate on what you were saying since your mind is focused on how to turn the tables on him.

“A precise reminder to make sure you will improve. I do take pleasure in playing a game that would mentally challenge me.”

Pierro smirks as he notices that you had taken his black knight with your white queen, at the very least this game should be more interesting than the first.

Thus, the following nights would end with the two of you being entangled in each other and let the darkness of the night be the witness of your chess games until your arrival in Snezhnaya.

•••••

“Is she here Jester?”

Wait was that La Signora’s voice that you just hear outside your quarter in this ship?

The slight fierceness of the sea covered your movement as you slow crept up to the door as you try to overhear them. You gently place your ear near by the door and made sure your feet couldn't be seen underneath the small cracks.

“Yes.” Pierro answered shortly and with annoyed tone if you may add.

A chuckle could be heard from the woman, “I heard that she had gone mad, part of the rumors is because you had her locked up in your estate. Another said that she had defected the Fatui and got caught since Scaramouche had spotted her over in Inazuma. Then... the last speculation is that she is on a mission and that someone had altered her memories.” Every speculation is quite bizarre to be honest, you hadn’t expected that word of your incident would actually be a hot topic in the Fatui ranks.

“Baseless rumors are nothing more than to be their entertainment.” Thankfully it would seem that Pierro is definitely on your side in covering this incident, he did imply that this matter is between you, him, and the Tsaritsa.

“So what has become of your wife then?”

Wait what?

“Such information is not of your concern, now what of the Tsaritsa’s letter?” The topic quickly changed from the tone of his voice, he is not amused anymore.

“Ah we should discuss that without your Electro Cicin Mage here.” Finally, La Signora dropped the topic and two footsteps slowly made its way to the other side of the ship.

Your head started to pound at this new information and your heart started to beat faster out of nervousness. At least the questions you kept pestering Pierro had finally been cleared up via eavesdropping.

‘The dots finally connected…’

‘I’m his fucking wife what the hell?!’

“Lady (Y/N), you heard that didn’t you?” The door opened without you noticing it, Natalia had caught you eavesdropping on Pierro and La Signora’s conversation earlier.

With a defeated sigh you nod at Natalia’s question.

⟡ Act III - Phantom of the Opera ⟡

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet

And though you turn from me

To glance behind

The phantom of the, opera is there

Inside your mind

•••••

Zapolyarny Palace is colder than anticipated, the atmosphere is far from the feeling of comforting winters. The atmosphere is tense and the tension is thick. No one could cut it with a knife, a claymore maybe... a really hot claymore.

The cold gaze of the Tsaritsa is something you could feel. Your entire body felt like as if it incases in layer by layer of ice. Nothing could have saved you from her gaze, not even from Pierro.

The Harbingers were summoned, Pierro and Signora are there of course is there since they were the one who delivered you to the Tsaritsa. Pulcinella, Columbina, Scaramouche, and Dottore were all present. The other Harbingers... well that isn't really something you can think about.

“(Y/N),”

When the Tsaritsa mentioned your name, you feel so small and terrified from the calm anger of her tone. “You have deserted your position in the Fatui. The price for your sins would be equal with death. A founding member capable of defection... does death seem like a proper punishment for you?” She spoke with such gentleness yet her void of emotion is what made this encounter unnerving. This is what the Cryo Archon is like face to face she is not like the other archons you had encountered in the game.

“Your Majesty, the Tsaritsa, can I really be guilty of defecting the Fatui when there is no evidence of my sins?”

Natalia had advised not to look guilty or weak in front of the Tsaritsa and the rest of the Fatui Harbingers. You actually don't know why the Electro Cicin Mage would side with the likes of you but thankfully your question did break the tension that was directed towards you. All the Harbingers’ eyes were on you, some is expecting you to fail while the others are indifferent towards you.

Columbina is the only one who is smiling and humming to herself. Although despite her eyes being closed you could still feel her gaze is directed towards you. She's so relaxed as if she didn't care about what's happening right now.

“Hoh hoh. Despite having your memory lost, you seem to have a sharp tongue as ever, Lady (Y/N).” Pulcinella amusingly let out a chortle but his amused tone betrayed the hostility in his gaze.

“Lady (Y/N), your claims do not have enough proof. Still your mission is to have diplomacy to the Akademiya which you had not failed.” Dottore looked at a stack of report papers, “Not only that you've established connections with some officials in Liyue, Inazuma, and Mondstadt. However, you disappeared for five months somewhere in building those connections. Coincidentally, the Jester found you in Mondstadt with no memories.” His tone is amused yet you could feel it mocking what the Princess had done although he does seem impressed by how there zero evidence of her defection. Dottore would at least acknowledge the effort to cover up a big scandal within the Fatui.

“A convenient scenario yet despite the coincidence evidence of your defection has not been seen in the investigation. Quite the cover if I do say so myself.” Scaramouche didn’t hide his distaste towards you and you do wonder what the heck did the Princess do to receive hostility from these three Harbingers.

Well at least they did acknowledge that you were not a traitor but you do recall Pierro accusing you of one when the two of you first met. “So... uh there you go. I technically have not defected the Fatui if there is no evidence.” You shrug your shoulders instinctively feigning innocence… which is technically true in your case.

Although despite the fact that you were about to calm down, the entire throne room suddenly became extremely cold even for your immortal body, you could not endure this cold. Icicles formed around your shivering clothing and your skin started to turn blue. You however did not break eye contact to the throne that stood so far from where you had stood.

The Harbingers all looked at the Tsaritsa, and one by one they left the throne room leaving you all alone. Pierro is the only one who stayed, his gaze never left you. His expression looks hardened and he did not show any ounce of pity, which you are thankful or else you would have looked really guilty in front of Her Majesty.

“Well played Princess of Khaenri'ah.” The Tsaritsa rose and descended from her icy throne. She slowly stepped towards you in a menacing way if you may so add. Your eyes widen in panic as you look at Pierro for help but he remained standing still at the bottom of the throne letting the Tsaritsa pass.

“You have not betrayed me nor the Fatui.”

You gulp as she stood in front of you not even noticing that her arms were slowly moving up to your body. “But the one you had truly betrayed is yourself.” Her tone is more disappointed than angry with only the three of you left in the throne room.

‘I’m genuinely confused…’

‘Does that mean the Princess really did not defect?’

‘Base on what Pierro had said she tried to kill herself... Maybe...’

“Welcome back.” The Tsaritsa's tone became soft as she wrapped her arms around your body. The hug you had receive is cold but it felt so pure of love. It cut you off from the numerous questions that ran through your mind and without any reservation you returned her gesture.

“Forgive me Your Majesty, I really am not the Princess of the Khaenri'ah...” Your eyes widen a second, maybe that's not really the answer you should tell her. “...E-Er uhm only because I feel like I am not her due to my memory loss.”

The Tsaritsa's gaze remains to be soft as she pulls away from the hug. "(Y/N), stop this foolishness you had been gone long enough I do not want you to succumb to madness. "She cups your cheek while holding your hand rubbing your forearm softly with her thumb. "Do not betray yourself again, that is all I would ask." She lets go of her hold on you, her gaze became cold now as she slowly ascended the throne.

Pierro then stood at your side he nods at you as if he was telling you did well.

“You two are dismissed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You and Pierro then place a hand over your chest bowing slightly to the Tsaritsa.

On the way out of the throne room and back into the halls of Zapolyarny palace. Pierro poked your index finger slightly, you turn to him and he looks relieved that you hadn't really made the Tsaritsa angry. Pursing your lips slightly, the look he gave you is something your parents never gave to you.

The look of someone being proud.

Hugging him is out of the question instead you held out your pinky poking his hand back. In return his own pinky intertwined with yours as the two of you discreetly held each other.

At the first few seconds it felt nice but panic started to slowly sink in... ‘Is this really okay to go on even if I'm not really his wife?’

Then you look at his face, he had a really cute expression right now. His cheeks were slightly painted with a small blush. So, for now you don't think about the consequences and just let Pierro escort you to a carriage ride back to his estate with your pinkies intertwined.

•••••

“Did you ever regret it █ █ █ █ █?”

“Regret what?”

“What we became.”

It’s that voice and name again, the one that plagued you on Mondstadt up until the journey back to Snezhnaya. You purse your lips wondering who that mysterious person was.

“Lady (Y/N)? You're shaking from the cold.”

Thankfully Natalia’s voice cut you off from drowning in your own thoughts, ever since the bard playing a song about self-deception and the Tsaritsa claiming you to betraying yourself hit the nail and buried it deep inside your mind. You wonder why those words affected you so much when it was all for that Princess.

“Dear me it would seem that you had a hard time in your journey Lady (Y/N).” A small elder man with an elf like ears and moustache came in with servants who prepared a tea set that seems to be locally made and it looks really fresh. “Have some tea just to calm you down.”

The encounter with the Tsaritsa had passed by a month and Pierro suggested to have you work again, it was only simple work. Organizing the files in the mayor’s office while he would temporarily take over the heavy burden for you. Pulcinella wasn’t amused by the fact that you would be so casually taking over his work for 5 months during your disappearance.

To him it’s not about the power hierarchy but how serious were you in helping Her Majesty improve this nation that keep enduring hard these past few years.

“Pulcinella, you don’t have to be so friendly towards me just because I lost my memories, I can tell that you spite me because of what I have done.” Honestly the fandom doesn’t really justify the grandpa vibes from this specific harbinger, he is the total opposite of a kind and gentle grandfather that community had concluded.

“Hoh. Perceptive I see, I will give it to you Lady (Y/N). I really could not forgive that you are utterly weak minded. You once said that being a leader required a mind of steel and a stone heart to overlook the carnage, after all an empire could not be built without blood.” The elderly man stated his tone is rather venomous but you maintain your composure, despite the fact you absolutely intimidated. He may be short but between the two of you, you’re the one who felt small.

‘Why the fuck would the Princess say that? Now this little shi-old man isn’t giving me a break.’

With shaky gulp you inhale the tension and exhaled deeply to let out your nervousness, “Then if I maybe so bold Pulcinella, how about you would take over the position from me?” That was the very thing that Pierro had suggested from the start, give Pulcinella what he wants and he will open his mind to reconsider his thoughts about your competency.

In all honesty you absolutely do not want to involve yourself with the Fatui but for Pierro you really have to endure it since he’s your provider and caretaker. This is the least you can do to take a lot of workloads from his shoulders, and since the Princess isn’t here to decide for herself is she still wants to be the mayor then it’s up to you.

You smile at Pulcinella, sarcastically. “Oh, make no mistake I am not affected by what you had said, from the five months that the Princess had gone you have done well in managing Snezhnaya. Perhaps it is time that I would retire from such position and focus on more important matters… behind the scenes.” Although you are genuinely impressed that he shouldered the burden of being a mayor. And from the Winter Night’s Lazzo, a harbinger did call him mayor and it definitely wasn’t the Princess.

“And what are these matters?” Now the Rooster took the bait from your words.

“Rooster.” The deep baritone voice surprised you, only you the rest were already aware that he had entered the office. “Have you ever read the accounting-”

“Damn it Pierro!” You smack his arm.

The servants under Pulcinella were utterly horrified that you just slapped their superior’s boss meanwhile Natalia had already seen that coming. You were truly unaware that he had already came inside the mayor’s office when you asked the Rooster to take over as mayor. He is actually impressed that you had already spot the problem, although he did already spot it a few weeks ago but he does admit that he is far engrossed in searching for you.

And this problem is just perfect for you to prove yourself to the one who is most passionate about Snezhnaya’s improvement and who worships the Tsaritsa devotedly.

“-as I have said, the accounting is poorly managed, what can you do to recuperate from the billions of mora that we had lost these past decade?” He ignored your slap since it didn’t really hurt him, besides he does admit it amuses him that he can sneak up on you like this. Garnering such adorable expressions truly makes his day better.

Pierro does make up with him surprising you with presence by handing out the official documents that would prove that Snezhnaya is on the verge of bankruptcy.

“Please don’t surprise me like that…” You grumble as you grabbed the accounting records from Pierro, “Look this right here the numbers don’t add up, why should we fund Dottore’s laboratory anyway? As far as I am concerned his experiments have done nothing but take mora and results don’t even compensate for what we have lost.” You pointed at the numbers of mora, which would probably can pay your student loans and fund your family for at least a century.

Pulcinella does pay attention at least and now you have finally hooked him, least to say that being the mayor won’t be your problem anymore.

“The noble families in this country should be contacted, the taxes of the people have not seen the light of day in the north and eastern side of this country.” You continued while he takes the papers that would be under his care to solve.

“And with your built connections in Liyue Harbor and Ritou we could recuperate millions of sums.” Pulcinella finally connected the dots of your disappearance, although, you really don’t know what happened to the Princess predicting this situation. It was as if she truly is ready to pass on the mantle of the mayor to Pulcinella. Perhaps she was really ready to… you shook your head and gave Pulcinella the second main problem of the bankruptcy, “Then we cut off Dottore’s funding for a while, if he wants his research to be funded then we should expect more results rather than more hypotheses.”

“While I do this, Pulcinella can we both trust you in handling things here in Capital? And if those noble families hold back the taxes and refuse to give us the real documents…”

“Ah it would seem that I had made a mistake in being bitter towards you Lady (Y/N), you truly do know how to manage this country.”

“An honorable job such as being the mayor is something I would give up just so we couldn’t overlook Snezhnaya’s built up of corruption. The Fatui is indeed establishing its influence but can we really stay in power when Snezhnaya is going against itself?” Okay your mouth suddenly went on autopilot because what you have been saying so far… it’s as if you already know how to handle Snezhnaya’s economic problems.

“And what of the blood that will be spilled?”

Now the tension is back again after the Rooster asked an ominous question, Pierro gave him a warning look but of course he chose to ignore it.

“Why would there be a need for bloodshed?” You asked the elder man back unaware of the tension.

Your response made Pulcinella close his eyes, though he does seem disappointed but nonetheless he finally got what he wanted. “Hmm. I can overlook this naivety for once since your memories are lost, you may not have them yet but that doesn’t mean your compassion to those who doesn’t deserve it should stay.” He leaves the room to start working with the position you passed onto him, the servants and soldiers inside the room followed after him.

“Leave us.” Pierro ordered his subordinates and so they all left including Natalia.

Now that it’s only you and Pierro who were left, you turn to him a bit worried. “Did I say something wrong Pierro?” You look absolutely helpless compared earlier that held a really suave and dignified aura.

“What you had said, can it be really resolved without any people being killed?” His tone is soft as if crossing through a fragile bridge, he notices you starting to panic. When your hands start to shake and your knees buckle that is the cue that you would start to shut down. “Breathe… and think carefully (Y/N), is bloodshed truly the answer?”

The palm of his gloved hands were on your shoulders, he rubs them gently knowing how affected you can get when it comes to death. The way he rubs your shoulder blades with such tenderness and slowly unknotting the tension made you calm down.

“No… but it can be avoided…” You finally answered him.

“And how are you going to do that?” He urges you to go on.

“Talking… chatting…” You purse your lip as you had been enlightened. “Negotiation! Scare their fucking asses!”

Well your answer finally came through the acceptable answer that he also have thought of, “Remember not to use profanities when you do it, intimidation often comes from how well you would handle yourself. Though you are aware that words won’t work if you do truly want to save Snezhnaya from bankruptcy.” Talking to him feels so natural at this point, whether it be casual or work conversations you find comfort in hearing his voice. Although you were still quite reserve with him trying to get close to you, especially now that you found out that the Princess is his wife.

It is wrong to lead him on believing you were her.

“Of course, but I don’t know if I can do this alone… sheesh! We truly need a banker.” You replied jokingly, you were walking to the door not really wanting to be alone with him. “Well, I guess we should go now, right? You are still needed in-”

You mentally cursed for being too slow.

Pierro’s strong grip is wrapped around your wrist, he was so close to you that you could feel his chest on your head. The size difference between the two of you is quite evident when he stands so close, his hand trapping yours made it hard to leave the room. You didn’t dare look at his direction and close your eyes letting out a shaky sigh then faced him tilting your head, “Do you need something?”

He chose to ignore your question, “Since you cannot recall, we used to work together when the Harbingers haven’t formed yet. Shall we do this together once again?”

You nervously let out a chuckle, this wasn’t supposed to be your role to this world, you only helped Pierro as a thank you not as a permanent job. Even if you were starting to look at him in a different way, you were not the Princess of Khaenri’ah. You were not his wife.

This time instead of holding his hand, you let go of it but his grip became even tighter and looks of remorse is evident on your facial expression. “But uhm what if I am not really your wife? What if I’m not the Princess you once knew? What if… her soul is no longer in this body?” There you finally said it but it was more of a hypothetical question rather than being firm with the real thing.

“That she believes she’s in a different world reincarnated into her favorite game? Do you truly still believe in that false illusion?” The more you had tried to avoid his voice the more it starts to invade your mind.

“Isekai? Reincarnation? That is ridiculous and it definitely doesn’t seem to be well written base on its title.”

“It isn’t so bad and besides I think it’s funny that the title of this novel is ‘This is a story after I died in the real world then getting isekai'd into my favorite board game but why the fuck is the Demon Lord who greeted me instead of a cute fairy guide?!’ It’s creatively eye catching.”

“I would close my eyes.”

“Ugh come on don’t you find it funny?”

Now it was clear who the mysterious person was during your relapses, it belonged to Pierro.

Now you were utterly helpless from this confrontation, Pierro started to believe that you were faking your memory lost. It was all the same from everyone, including the Fatui subordinates, Signora’s gossip, and the Tsaritsa’s words that you truly had betrayed your own mind.

“What?! I’m not crazy Pierro! I am not the Princess! I’m just (Y/N)!” You cried loudly not wanting to loosen your grip on your own reality, “I’m a corporate worker who is underpaid while balancing my life in getting my master’s then-”

“Died by saving your thesis paper and then reincarnated into your favorite game. I know I have read the novel you had bought in Inazuma.” Pierro’s calm angry tone scared you now… and what’s even scarier is that your vision started to change and this time the visual is clear as day on who you were talking to.

“Don’t you have a diplomatic mission in Sumeru?”

“Ah… well I just want to see you one last time my dear husband…”

“Is that why you came to annoy me so late in the evening? You know you could have just asked, we’ve been married for decades now and you’re still shy as ever (Y/N).”

“Yeah… I know… I just really wanted to see you, █ █ █ █ █.”

“█ █ █ █ █! you’re hurting me…!”

When you yelled his real name, Pierro froze like deer in headlights, he realizes that fragments of your memories were slowly slipping through the alchemy marks that you had planted within your mind. His grip is still tight and you began thrashing around and yelling at him to let go. You sounded so confused and hurt that he is tempted to let you go but he already had enough of your lies and his patience is grounded to zero.

“We will return to my estate and continue this conversation there.” He declares since you were starting to get hysteric.

How could you not go hysteric? This man confused your mind and the reality you had believed in, you weren’t so sure about what’s real and not. It didn’t help when he started to have a vice grip on your wrist on which you are sure that it will bruises.

“I said let go!” You slapped his cheek unaware of the blue wisp on your palm hitting the right side of his face as his mask is thrown on the ground.

Red started to drip on the marbled white floor of the office, your eyes widen as you saw the cut on Pierro’s cheek. The blue wisp of your abilities is the one that created the wound, you look at your hand and saw wisp still lingering. Then you look at Pierro again his reaction made your heart dropped from what you had seen

An expression filled with so much grief, anger, and pain. Before the older man could say anything you ran out of the office afraid of the consequences of your actions.

And though you turned your back on him.

You knew he would always plague your mind from this day on.

•��•••

You absolutely underestimated Zapolyarny Palace, when you ran away from the mayor’s office you were surrounded by dark hallways that had soldiers stationed in each door of every room. They seem to ignore you which is good because you clearly could not deal with anyone else especially Pierro. They all think that you had gone mad, you weren’t… but are you really sure about believing in your own reality?

When you ran away from the mayor’s office, your feet dragged you to a secluded garden nearby, the bushes were all painted in white snow and the flowers never grew in this area. You realize that your stamina still hasn’t been depleted and physically you were still okay but mentally? You were absolutely exhausted by the events that transpired as you squat down letting your knees sink down the soft and cold bite of snow.

“Fuck…” You curse under your breath, “Fuck fuck… they all think I’ve gone mad.”

“Hah. I suppose that makes two of us then.”

Dottore’s voice didn’t even startle your exhausted form. When you raise your head up this one is the same clone back in the Tsaritsa’s throne room and in your vision, the Omega Build, you could tell from the beak mask and clothing. Although beside him is Scaramouche who remained silent as he is disinterested in whatever was happening.

You look up to the two of them, “Why are you still not leaving?” Honestly you didn’t want to talk to anyone who doesn’t think you’re insane.

“As much as it is not my business to meddle, I am just curious to why you would continue to deny that you are living in a fake reality of your own making?” Dottore genuinely is curious but his lack of empathy somehow made it easy to talk to him.

“That’s the very thing I don’t understand Dottore, why do you all assume that I am the Princess and not some poor soul that had switched places with her?!” You were starting to get riled up again because even Pierro hadn’t believed in you even though back in the ship he said that he would listen and trust you… and yet he didn’t, you do understand his reaction but when he made you start to question your own memories that was when you begun to get upset.

“Switch souls…?”

Dottore began to laugh.

And you were on the verge of tears.

“Amazing! This is truly a product of your own research except you have not reached for the conclusion of your hypotheses because you had failed. To put you out of your misery Lady (Y/N), the answer has already been given by Her Majesty, the one you had truly betrayed is yourself.” Dottore had been lost to his own ramblings now and had bark insults at your pathetic crying form, “Well, I could not blame you for completely living in ignorant bliss, you always have a fragile soul despite being the fiercest Harbinger that we have. Unlike the Jester he accepted that he no longer had any ounce of humanity left in him and you on the other hand, continues to deny that you had long fallen from grace. And, proof of your denial is your own belief that you had truly switched places with a poor soul from another world.” Dottore dropped something on the snowy ground, it made a small crater but the white color of snow turned red.

“Here I wanted to give this back.”

For your dignity, you swallowed the scream that you want to let out and the object became clearer in your vision. “This is…” The item is the container of the archon residue that you had seen in your elapse with Dottore being there. “The minor god that I had killed and those people that I purposely turned my back to so that you may be able to use them.”

Tears finally streamed down to your face as the memory of the carnage the Princess of Khaenri’ah, who’s real identity is none other than you, the one who put fake memories in your mind to forget the sins of what you had done for the Fatui, for Her Majesty, for Pierro, and for your vengeance.

Dottore crosses his arms looking down at you with a smirk “And there you go, the first step towards the answer, acceptance.” In all honesty he is proud to have made you realize to the answer you had been looking for. Although he does not look forward if Pierro ever finds out about this incident.

“Enough already Dottore, you have taken too much time of your schedule to bother the Jester’s wife, shall we proceed to your laboratory?” Scaramouche asked a bit irritated that his precious time is being eaten by a woman he doesn’t even know and she started to cry because of Dottore.

“Ah yes of course but this is basically a service to Her Majesty and the Fatui,” Dottore is surprisingly honest with his answer but it did give him satisfaction he finally had snapped the hanging thread of your fake memories. “Scaramouche you may have just joined the faction but Lady (Y/N) is not just the Jester’s wife, she currently holds the title of the Second of the Fatui Harbingers.”

“I see, then if that is the case Lady (Y/N), the solution to your problem is something you already have passed through. Start from the beginning and it may just help you.” When Scaramouche had said that, you stopped crying and looked at him.

Although he and Dottore were already walking away from you.

“Is your advice a reference in your contribution in ending the Raiden Gokaden?” Dottore asked with a grin.

“And yet I did not get the results I wanted, the Electro Archon simply didn’t care, this isn’t about me Dottore… I am just giving Lady (Y/N) a better advice than yours because if she recovers from losing her mind then I don’t have to take orders from you.” Scaramouche scoffs at him clearly annoyed by his entire existence.

“Indeed, what an insight Scaramouche, would you like a lollipop for that?” Dottore teased.

“Eat shit.” Scaramouche then pointed his middle finger at the Doctor.

As soon as they were out from your view, you stood up from the snow, you let your tears dry on your cheeks as you held the bloodied container in your hand. Pursing your lip, you wonder what really had transpired for you to even think about erasing your own memories and replacing them with ones that you had once read in a novel from Inazuma.

Pursing your lips your grip of the bloodied container started to grow stronger and the glass started to crack as you angrily contemplated on what to do from now on. A hand is place over your own, smaller hands, one that belonged to the first friend you had made in your entire fake isekai journey. You turn to Natalia and smile, at the very least someone is at your comfort for today’s events.

“(Y/N)?” She didn’t use the lady title and her tone is softer than you had remembered. “Forgive me for not intervening, I thought by having Dottore speak to you it would benefit your mind, if you linger in living through this fake memory. Your entire brain would collapse and you would be nothing more than a hallow shell.” She rubs her thumbs over your forehand as she lets out a soft hum that somehow soothes your disturbed thoughts and feelings slightly.

“Natalia… Do you truly think that I have gone mad? I… I can’t even remember being the Princess of Khaenri’ah nor do I even can’t stop believing that I am an isekai character.” You grit your teeth in frustration.

She softly pats your hair, “I do not think you have gone mad, you were overwhelmed with emotions of vengeance and guilt, with a delicate heart as yours… only you have the answer to why you had replaced your memories.”

“Scaramouche said that I should go back to the beginning…” Of course, it is obvious that the Jester is the one you had first encountered. Every question and answer all lies anything related him. “Pierro… I need to go to him…” The beginning of your journey is Pierro and you were not an isekai’d character but truly the Princess of Khaenri’ah who finally remembered that you deliberately tried to kill yourself and since that won’t work you somehow re-wrote your memory.

No wonder Pierro was so upset earlier, now you feel like the asshole because you were the one who got scared then slapped him then ran away. You feel deserving of Dottore’s cathartic way of letting you accept the reality.

“Right answer but wrong action, now are you really sure you would sing a duet with him once again?” Natalia asked in a sing sang tone which is now completely different from his monotonous voice.

“If he would have me…” You do wonder if he can truly forgive you, the man had gone through enough and he has a mentally ill wife as his partner unfortunately. Although it is odd that Natalia knows a lot about the situation, you narrow your eyes at her. “Wait Natalia, how do you know so much about this situation I thought you were just an Electro Cicin Mage?”

Natalia then smiled for the first time, it was an unsettling smile but somehow it didn’t look intimidating. As the matter of fact her smile is somehow comforting as she pulls the hood of her uniform and removed her mask. The true identity of Natalia the Personal Assistant is another Fatui Harbinger…

“Columbina.”

“I truly had missed you dearest (Y/N).” The shorter female tackled you into a hug, she rubs her cheek onto your chest as she lets out a hearty giggle. “Forgive me for lying but your husband didn’t want me to reveal myself to you yet so I became your body guard~” Now it makes sense why Pierro is so confident in letting you roam Mondstadt with minimum soldiers.

Columbina then lets you go and she closes her eyes still smiling, “So now that you’re finally aware of your situation would you like me to return your memories?”

Your breath suddenly hitches in anticipation, “You could do that?” Natalia… Columbina… either way she is truly a dear friend of yours.

“With the help of Dottore’s child segment Zeta, you were able to withhold your memories in the archon residue container. I am able to slowly put your memories back so you won’t get hurt.”

Your eyes widen in surprise because you never thought that the Doctor actually gave you the memories back by making you cry of course. Now that you think about it, you didn’t feel the intent to murder him anymore but instead thank him. Oh, how ironic it is that he just showed the actual traits of a doctor towards you.

Turning to Columbina you gave her a determined look, you wipe your tears once more and let out a really heavy exhale. “Please return everything to me my dearest songbird.” When you had said the nickname that you would often call her, she then slowly turn the container around as small purple colored wisp started to seep through.

As the wisp surrounded your head, you close your eyes and readily accept its content. Under the false illusions of your lies, Pierro had never given up his adoration for you and your response to it would also be the same. You would finally stop giving up on yourself.

•••••

Now you were back from the start, to your real life as the Princess of Khaenri’ah, the memories of your childhood to your coming of age had all start to come through like a fast wind. It’s as if these memories were but a fraction of your long life, after all you had spent 100 years in the Fatui and 23 years as a royalty.

Now face to face with a younger Pierro who wore the suit of a royal mage. He brought your hand to his lips, “Truly you have a compassionate heart Princess (Y/N) thank you for always checking up on me on my lowest days.”

“Hush now Grumbles.” He grunted at your poor choice of nicknames but accepted your hug happily he buried his face on your hair inhaling the scent of pine and mint with a tad mix of strawberries and custard since you had made him some pastries, “We’ve been friends since my coming of age so I would always come by and check on you, okay?”

The grumpy mage couldn’t help but smile at that, what is love without friendship first. Had it not been to you, he surely would be wallowing in self-pity and anger by himself after being ridiculed endlessly by the sages ever since he had failed to stop them from doing something that tore away the veil of sin.

You always had hated those assholes from your father’s council anyway, even Rhinedottir is insufferable as she would not stop creating those monsters. Your friend had been your saving grace from this insufferable castle, at the very least the citizens of Khaenri’ah were not all obsessed with technology but more inclined in everyday lives such as baking, sewing, reading fictional literature, or even gardening.

Those kind of things is what you want to preserve in Khaenri’ah and the grumpy mage is the one you wish to do this with. “Hey there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you...” You place both your hands on his chest while your cheeks start to heat up from the close proximity between the two of you.

“What is it Princess (Y/N)?” His eyes slowly soften up when you called him by his real name.

You purse your lips finding it hard to say those three words to him, yet you would not end this day without confessing your love for him “I-”

The door of his quarters slammed opened, a tall blonde man with blue eyes holding a longsword came, his expression is panicked and extremely troubled.

“I have been looking everywhere for you Princess-Mage an impeccable timing we need every warrior we can get to protect the people!” He barked out orders his voice is shaking from fear.

“Dainsleif! What is going on?” You ask as your claymore materializes on your hands.

“Twilight Sword who is attacking the people?” The mage asked as well as his catalyst also materializes as it hovers above his hand.

Dainsleif grit his teeth, his eyes were wide open as if he had seen the most horrifying sight of his life. The Twilight Sword is one of the strongest warriors in this kingdom and to him looking so afraid… you were beginning to know the reason for his fears.

“The gods… they have come to destroy Khaenri’ah.”

~ End of the First Part of Truthful Adoration in False Illusions

A/N:

I would like to apologize for scamming everyone who thought this was going to be an isekai reader but it's actually a mentally illed princess reader who could not deal with the fact she had done horrible stuffs for vengeance against Celestia.

In all honesty isekai was really the plot for this fanfic but I changed it due to the fact that isekai reader wouldn't really connect with Pierro emotionally unlike Princess of Khaenri'ah reader whom he already had known for five years before the Cataclysm.

If you guys want to read Act IV: All I Ask of You it's available on AO3 now but I'm holding it back since I haven't polished Act V, Interlude, and Epilogue yet.

I truly admire if you guys actually read this whole thing and enjoyed it, I feel like I'm such a messy writer since its been years since I posted a fanfic ;u;)

Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of this fanfic! <333

173 notes · View notes

justsomeoneunordinary · 3 years

Note

angst 3 for winteriron pretty please

Hi Ava, thank you so much for sending this prompt in. Finally I finished it, after… 3 months. I also used it for the WinterIron Week (which I am so much behind for, it’s not even funny). I still have no clue if this really warrants as ‘angst’, cause it feels more dull to me than angsty, but oh well. It is what it is.

Now, the whole organizational stuff (aka the pain in my ass):

On Crossing Paths

Prompt is from this list: “You promised you’d stop drinking.” — “And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

Day 3 of @winteriron-week: Angst & “But I did it”

And since this got way out of hand anyway, combined with:

Day 4 of @winteriron-week: Tony needs a hug (Bucky too) & Forgiveness

(Nvm, I wrote something for day 4 anyway)

M, 5.2k, Alcoholism TW, Angst (-ish), Canon Divergence, Tony Feels, Emotional Hurt, Falling In Love, Hopeful Ending | AO3

(Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 4)

—

Tony meets James for the first time in a seedy bar in Brooklyn on the night of December 17th, 1991.

Twelve hours before that first meeting, he listens with deaf ears to the police telling him his parents died in a car accident.

Ten hours before that first meeting, he cries on Obie’s shoulder while Obie pats him on his head and tells him “everything would be fine”.

Seven hours before that first meeting, he speaks to Rhodey on the phone and makes him promise not to jeopardize his military career by showing up without permission.

Five hours before that first meeting, he drives to the scene of the accident where he screams into the godforsaken void from the top of his lungs, curses Howard and then has a mental breakdown in the middle of the street.

Two hours before that first meeting, he finds himself driving through the city with no destination in mind until he decides that he needs a drink.

Or rather ten.

Which is how he ends up at “Cheryl’s” where no one even bats an eye at the face of today’s headline and sole heir of a multi-billion company entering the bar. It’s too dark inside, the strong stench of sweat and smoke penetrates his nostrils on the spot, and Tony is pretty sure that the mold behind the counter is just about to build its own ecosystem.

He orders whiskey and gets a Jack. Not exactly what he wanted, but it will do.

There’s a glint out of the corner of his eye that gains his attention and when he turns, his gaze falls on the metal hand of a man with the saddest eyes he has ever seen. What once must’ve been a wild grey is now the lifeless stare of someone who’s been haunted by ghosts for a long while. A frigid expression on a pretty face framed by strands of long brown hair and cherry red lips made to be kissed. Wrapped up in an outfit that might as well be from a BDSM scene.

Tony likes what he sees. Very much so. He imagines dragging the guy into the bathroom, pulling those tight leather pants off and giving him the best blowjob of his life. It certainly would take his mind off other things. Like the fact that he’s an orphan now.

So he does, what he does best: he flirts. But this time it’s a challenge. It takes him three attempts until the stranger takes his eyes off the wall and looks at him, a tiny frown between his brows—but no other sign of acknowledgment.

“Finally got your attention, Handsome! You’re not much of a talker, hm? No worries, I can talk for both of us.” Which Tony then does. He talks and drinks and flirts—a wink here, a featherlight touch on the guy’s biceps there—and drinks and speaks of DUM-E and Rhodey and all their pranks during MIT, watches with fascination how that dead look in the stranger’s eyes slowly forms into curiosity, beams in delight when he gets a snort out of him, drinks some more, slides closer with each drink and puts a hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it up and down.

“You got a name, Handsome?”

The guy seems to hesitate for a while until he answers in a deep, raspy voice, “James.” Tony is pretty sure it’s a lie, but then again—he doesn’t need to know the name when he’s got his mouth full of dick.

“Well, James, you can call me Tony.” He flutters his eyelashes and bites teasingly on his lower lip before he drops his tone and asks, “So… your place or mine?”

After that Tony remembers the night only in a blur. He remembers passionate kisses in a dark alley, hands wandering everywhere, rising heat and grey eyes shimmering in pure lust. He remembers a hotel room and soft sheets and strong arms around his waist.

And then he wakes up, the taste of alcohol and James still lingering in his mouth.

When he opens his eyes, he finds James sitting in the chair at window, instead of lying in bed next to him, his entire focus solely on Tony. It should be creepy, but James’ gaze merely comes from curiosity, as if Tony was a machinery whose workings he is still trying to understand. It’s kind of endearing.

Tony gets up, disinterested in getting dressed, and pours himself two fingers of whiskey at the bar.

“This your breakfast?”

Tony grins smugly at the hoarse tone of James’ voice. “Nah, that’s just my mouthwash,” he answers and winks at him over his shoulder.

He eyes James for a moment while sipping on his drink, and then adds, “There’s a diner not far from here. Serves the best blueberry pancakes in all New York, I can vouch for that. What do you think, want to accompany me?”

It’s not Tony’s usual style. Otherwise, one-night stands will remain exactly what they are for him: one-night stands. But James has something that fascinates him immensely. It’s not just the overdeveloped prosthesis that can impossibly be on the market anywhere, and makes Tony wonder where he got it from, but also that look in his eyes of someone who has seen way too much. This emptiness that suddenly becomes filled with curiosity when it comes to small things. This enigmatic thing that surrounds him and whose code Tony wants to crack.

At the diner, Tony watches with amusement as James’ eyes widen in delight at the first bite of the heavenly pancakes and can’t help laughing when James pounces on them like a starving predator.

Since James is not much of a talker, Tony does the speaking. For one, because he can’t stand the silence, but for another, because he needs to distract himself. Because he doesn’t want to think about the death of his parents or how empty the mansion will be when he returns. So he talks about anything he can think of until he comes to a point where he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, but is pretty sure that somewhere in the torrent of words, he tried to explain James the exact details of his AI study.

When they’re about to part ways though, Tony only too well remembers the emptiness that will greet him when he comes home, and he doesn’t even finish thinking it through, before he invites James to come with him.

James does not only come with him, but he also stays.

—

Weeks pass and before Tony knows it, James has practically moved in with him. If you can call it moving in when James doesn’t seem to have a single thing that needed to be brought here. Tony doesn’t know James’ last name, nor does he have the slightest idea who he is, and with each passing day his suspicions grow that he must have taken a homeless man off the street.

It should be terrifying or at least worrying but Tony can’t find it in himself to care enough. He lost his parents—and Jarvis and Ana even earlier—and would be alone in this big mansion until the loneliness would overwhelm him. And James turns out to be an excellent guest. Or rather roommate at this point.

For all he knows, James could be a serial killer, and Tony still wouldn’t care. He needs the company and he uses James for it—in bed and outside of it.

The more time they spend, the more not only Tony seems to be learning about James, but James also about himself. He discovers a love of books, especially C. S. Lewis, and sometimes holes up in the library all day except when he goes looking for Tony to read his favorite passages to him.

Every time he discovers a new dish that he likes, Tony can watch James’ whole face glow and none of the shadows of his past can be seen in that moment.

His favorite reaction, however, is when he trusts James enough to show him his workshop. James’ eyes widen in amazement and a brilliant smile forms on his lips at the sight of scientific chaos there is. “It’s like Narnia!”

“What? Where do you get that from? Narnia is nature and talking animals. I don’t have any talking animals here.” What DUM-E understands as a cue to speak up and whereupon James gives him a smug ‘told you so’ grin.

In these situations, it’s easy to forget that all is not peace, joy and pancakes. As soon as Tony gets down to the jobs Obie gave him, he remembers again, and the alcohol finds its way to his liver to ease the pain. In the morning, noon and evening.

Sometimes at night too when James has one of his nightmares and Tony can’t help him because James doesn’t talk to him, not about who he is, not about his past—although Tony guesses with an almost certainity on veteran—and not even vaguely about it his nightmares.

But they are fine, they have a routine: talking during the day, fucking at night. Eat blueberry pancakes for breakfast at the diner once a week and fiddle with James’ arm whenever he has time.

It works perfectly well as it is.

—

It’s not until on a particular bright morning in March 1992 Tony realizes that he had fallen in love with James a long time ago—the day after he almost dies of alcohol poisoning.

He wakes up to see James laying next to him, still asleep. Long strands of hair cover his face and Tony gives into the urge to brush them to the side, so he can take James’ peaceful expression in.

It’s a picture he’d like to wake up every day to. The longer he thinks about it, the more Tony has to admit that he can’t imagine a life without James in it—and that’s when it hits him. That those are feelings beyond of sole sexual attraction, beyond cameradine or friendship.

The realization hits him like a slap in his face. He breaths in shakingly and his first instinct is to get up and get himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, but before he can do anything the heart monitor starts picking up and only then does Tony realize that he’s not at home but in a hospital.

James stirs awake at the sudden noise and immediately glares at Tony. “You fucking idiot.”

His eyes are red, indicating he must’ve cried, and Tony isn’t sure what is going on but he can tell it must be bad. But he’s still too overwhelmed with the realization of his feelings, so he just gapes at James, not being able to say a word.

“You fucking idiot,” James repeats. “How often did I already tell you that you drink too much? That you should stop?”

And before he can react to that, he’s being crushed in a sudden hug, James holding him tightly to his chest and tears streaming down his cheeks.

“For a genius you are so dumb,” James murmurs and Tony—for Tony it’s too much. He doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know what to say, so he blurts out without a second thought, “I love you.”

That brings James to a halt. Tony’s muscles tense up and he instinctively holds his breath.

James pulls back a little bit, so he can look at Tony, who rather focuses on the white sheets of the hospital bed. “Tony did you watch too many rom-coms? Confessing feelings after you almost died should’ve been my job in that case though.”

Tony needs a moment to register the words correctly. “Almost died?”

“Alcohol poisoning.”

Oh fuck. Even Tony knows that this is not good, that he definitely went too far this time.

James gently cups Tony’s face so that he’s forced to look into those gray eyes shimmer in a happiness. “Tony, I love you too.”

Faintly he registers the heart monitor rising up again, but he’s too distracted by the warmth that fills him from within to feel any embarrassment at that. He looks up at the wonder that James is and then surges forward to steal a kiss. He expects a nurse to barge in any moment now at the way his heart rate jumps off the charts, but that’s not stopping him from burying his hands in James’ hair and deepen the kiss further.

“Tony,” James laughs as he pulls off. He rests his forehead at Tony’s while they catch their breath and slowly morphs his sappy expression into a serious one.

“Tony,” he repeats. “I love you. And because I love you, I need you to promise me to stop with the drinking. I can’t watch you destroy your own life any further like that. Yesterday I had to find you passed out in the workshop. Have you any idea what I went through?” His hands wander all over Tony while talking, as if he needs to prove himself, that Tony’s still alive.

Tony thinks of SI and Obie and the expectations he has to live up to. He thinks of mama’s piano and how he hasn’t played on it since the accident. And with each thought the urge to get a drink intensifies. He gulps audibly and asks, “Will you help me?”

James’ quiet smile is more than enough for an answer. “Always.”

“Okay,” he breaths out and adds, more hastily, “okay, but you have to promise to never hurt me, James. I can’t, after mum died and Jarvis and—”

“Of course I will never hurt you, Tony.” James interrupts him and those words leave James lips so effortlessly and earnestly that Tony has not a single doubt in the truth of them.

And with James on his side, Tony believes he can make it. Not just getting sober, but living an actual life. Getting his shit together, looking forward.

He finally tells him of his plans of a new home in Malibu, those he was too afraid to talk about because James is bound to Brooklyn and Tony feared he wouldn’t come with him when the mansion’s constructions are finished. But James just laughs and says, “The only place I belong to is your side. So wherever you go? I will follow.”

Tony feels happy like never before. Things finally go well.

—

Until they don’t.

—

The Winter Soldier fights for the first time against his programming on the night of December 16th, 1991.

It’s the shocked “Sergeant Barnes?” Howard Stark gasps that evokes hidden memories from the back of his mind. Memories from war—gunshots, explosions, screams and the smell of fire and blood. Memories of a guy once tiny suddenly big. Somehow the same person, somehow not.

Memories that lead him to Brooklyn instead of the meeting point where he should deliver the serum to his handlers.

His legs walk him the entire day through the city, while he’s taking in each building—some he recognizes, most of them not. Until at night he looks up at a blinking light stating “Cheryl’s” and sees flashes of himself, hair shorter and a laugh on his face, dancing with another man and exchanging forbidden kisses in a dark corner.

He enters and not much later he meets the whirlwind that is Tony Stark.

With Tony the Winter Soldier becomes James and learns to feel again. Other emotions, besides constant rage and pain. Curiosity first, then amusement, lust, care, warmth and somewhere around March 1992 he knows it’s love.

He falls in love with Tony Stark who treats him like a human being rather than a tool, who talks and talks and makes him laugh, who touches him softly always and everywhere, who isn’t afraid of the metal arm but fascinated by it, who studies it without causing him any pain, who sings and laughs and dances and doesn’t shy away from James even once.

Tony Stark who drinks more than he should, reminding him of a man that might be his father coming home, reeking of alcohol, hitting a woman that might be his mother—bringing back memories that rather stayed forgotten. Tony who almost dies and promises to stop with the drinking. Tony who sometimes looks like a man carrying the entire world on his shoulders, dark bags under his eyes, a haunted expression in them and yet does his best to keep James’ sorrow’s away.

Tony Stark whose parents he killed as he realizes after a nightmare on November 24th in 1992.

—

In the morning of November 25th 1992 Tony wakes up alone in bed, a yellow sticky note on his nightstand and the words “I’m sorry, doll” scribbled on it.

—

Tony waits first, clinging onto the hope that he misinterpreted that note and that James will come back. All of James’ few things are still here—Tony checked.

But the longer he waits, the stronger the urge gets to wrap his fingers around a bottle of whiskey. So he gets up and starts looking. First at the diner, then the park, further to the Brooklyn Bridge, to “Cheryl’s” at last.

He returns to an empty home. Doesn’t sleep in the first night, neither the second nor the third and collapses on the fourth—his face buried in James’ favorite wool sweater, the bathroom reeking of his vomit.

And then he repeats that circle anew.

—

James doesn’t come back.

—

On December 1992 Tony moves to Malibu without looking back.

The bar in his new home is fully stocked.

—

The next sixteen years pass by in a rush. Tony drinks. A lot. He drinks and fucks, and then drinks and fucks even more in a desperate attempt to forget James. To forget his touch and smile, his smell and his taste. To forget James’ everything.

And he doesn’t care enough what happens around him during his wake of self-destruction.

Until it comes back to bite him in the ass.

—

In 2008, after 3 months of captivity, Tony returns to the New York mansion for the first time since moving out. There on the night stand of his old room are still the photos of him and James from the photo booth they once took.

Tony blows the dust away and looks at the old pictures, a wistful expression on his face. He soaks James’ soft smile and bright glint in those beautiful eyes in, remembers how those pouty lips felt on his own, remembers the sound of James’ laugh, the taste of his mouth, his body pressed against Tony’s.

In all this time J.A.R.V.I.S. was never able to find even a trace of James. It was, as if he disappeared from earth. Chances are, he died. Because how far can a guy with a metal arm get without the most advanced AI of the world being able to find him? But even though he doesn’t believe in ever seeing James again, Tony thinks of him and the promise they gave each other when he empties his bar down the sink.

The photos end up in his workshop, next to the arc reactor’s glass case Pepper gave him. Tony finally starts looking ahead.

—

Years pass and Tony lives his life again.

He also almost dies some countless times, and every single time he thinks of Pepper, with a lingering memory of James’ laugh.

—

And then in 2016 Johannesburg happens and with Johannesburg the Sokovia Accords follow.

—

Over the years Tony imagined countless scenarios where he would see James again. Not in one of those could he have imagined it to go this bad.

“I know that road.”

—

Fourteen hours after the whole Siberia debacle Tony pulls the old photos from the drawer in the workshop and sets them aflame. He watches with a grim satisfaction as they slowly crumble to ashes and takes his first sip of whiskey in years. Directly from the bottle.

DUM-E’s distressed efforts at saving anything from the photos with the fire extinguisher are just a tad bit too late.

Nothing is left.

—

Tony starts drinking again.

—

In 2016, despite careful avoidance, Bucky does meet Tony again—in a HYDRA bunker of all places. And his heart aches at the sight of Tony’s shock.

Tony might’ve aged and changed, but those eyes are still the same. Big and expressive and at that very moment filled with sadness and anger and disbelief. And worst of all, it’s Bucky’s fault.

He doesn’t plan to fight and neither does he want to leave Tony behind, but he doesn’t believe Tony wants him anywhere near—Bucky had already done more than enough.

So he goes with Steve and goes back into cryostasis, hoping to stay there forever. Only to be woken up a few months later and informed that they got rid of his trigger words and Tony made sure that the Avengers were allowed to return to the States.

Bucky included.

It seems surreal to him to enter the Avengers compound; as if he was dreaming. As if there was a catch that would strike later because he doesn’t deserve to be here.

And then, in the kitchen waits none other than Tony, his eyes hidden behind colored sunglasses, his fake media smile on his face and a whiskey glass in his hand, the sight of which freezes Bucky’s blood in his veins. He’d like nothing more than to take the glass out of his hand and hug Tony tightly.

Which is a privilege he no longer has.

“Ah, the fossil duo! Welcome back,” Tony couldn’t sound more unwelcome if he tried. “Everything is still as you left it, Rogers. You can show Barnes yourself where everything is.” With these words he mockingly salutes them, turns around at his heel and disappears from the kitchen again without giving Bucky a single look.

A chill runs down Bucky’s spine at the sound of his last name from Tony’s mouth. It’s so… wrong. To Tony, he has always been just James. If affectionate or angry or laughing, James was the name Tony would call him with. This single, condescending “Barnes” feels like a thousand knife stabs in his heart. It’s only thanks to his training that he stays composed and doesn’t go running after Tony in a desperate attempt to try talking to him.

The next few weeks pass similarly. If he and Tony even see each other, which is a rarity in itself, even though they live in the same building—he has the suspicious feeling that Tony is deliberately avoiding him with F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s help—then Tony ignores him as if he were not here at all.

Bucky knows, he deserves worse than just the cold shoulder, but that still doesn’t make it easy. Especially not when he keeps finding empty alcohol bottles scattered around somewhere and can do absolutely nothing about this problem.

His only bright spot is Rhodes, who looks at the bottles with just as much loathing as he does. It means that at least one person keeps an eye on Tony’s consumption, since Bucky himself cannot. Bucky never had a chance to meet Rhodes twenty-five years ago, and Bucky is pretty sure Tony hasn’t told him anything, otherwise Rhodes wouldn’t be content with shooting him deathly looks only.

That’s why he doesn’t say anything to Steve either, no matter how hard he questions him, because he sees that there is something between him and Tony that he doesn’t know about. If Tony doesn’t want to tell anyone about their past together, then Bucky won’t either.

Bucky keeps the distance that Tony obviously wants from him.

Until two months after his arrival at the compound on a Tuesday morning F.R.I.D.A.Y. sends an urgent distress signal, and Bucky is on his way so quickly that the other Avengers don’t have a chance to follow him directly even if they tried.

—

Tony wakes up in a hospital with a throbbing pounding in his head and aching bones all over his body—James’ worried face hovering over him. It’s the shittiest déjà-vu he’s ever had.

At least the circumstances aren’t quite the same. Rhodey diluted Tony’s alcohol every time he thought no one would see him. So that something like alcohol poisoning wouldn’t happen again. Tony is grateful and annoyed at the same time.

No, this time he just flew drunk in his Iron Man armor, lost the connection to F.R.I.D.A.Y., which he has to get to the bottom of as quickly as possible, and then fell. So, waking up in the hospital makes sense.

But that James is here instead of Rhodey or Happy or Pepper or anyone else is both, surprising and unwanted.

James opens and closes his mouth several times, seemingly unable to decide what to say before croaking out, “You promised you’d stop drinking.” His voice sounds suspiciously as if he had cried recently, and Tony almost laughs at the irony of the situation.

But then he remembers the day he woke up without James at his side. Remembers searching everywhere for him, waiting, not being able to sleep for days, and how miserable he felt without him, not knowing what happened, not knowing where he had gone.

He remembers that James had fucked him—no, made love with him—knowing he had killed Tony’s mother. And he feels the blood boil in his veins in anger at that. How dare James after all these years, after all that happened, now talk about that promise?

So he throws him a deadly look, his hand clenched into a fist and growls, “And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me!”

James visibly flinches at that and takes a step back, his eyes wandering everywhere but at Tony. Then he takes a deep breath and looks Tony straight in the eye as he says, “You’re right. I promised you that I would never hurt you. But I did it. I have—”

“Why did you do it?” Tony interrupts, because that’s what he wants to know. What he had asked himself over and over again over the years—the why.

Bucky blinks at him in bewilderment and asks: “Why what exactly?”

“Everything!” Tony throws his arms in the air in frustration, ignoring the ailment of his broken ribs over the sudden action. “Why you suddenly left me overnight, why you never told me anything about yourself, not even vaguely hinting at who you are and what happened to you, why you let me fall in love with you when it was you, who killed my mother and were therefore to blame for my misery!” The last part comes out much more honest than Tony wanted it to be and he quickly looks ashamed to the side to blink away the rising tears of anger.

He hears a deep sigh from the side and out of the corner of his eye he can see James drop into the visitor’s chair.

“Tony, I didn’t know who you were or that my mission had been your parents when we met in the bar,” James begins hesitantly to explain. “Howard… his words brought a few memories to the fore. Just blurry, barely recognizable images. I didn’t even know my own name when you asked me for it—I just named the one that was at the tip of my tongue.

“During the time we were together, my memories have only gradually returned. I had no idea about your parents until a nightmare reminded me of it.” This is where James looks up from his hands for the first time, straight into Tony’s eyes, his gaze steadfast and honest. “And then I realized I had broken my promise—I had already hurt you.”

James sighs and runs his hand through his hair and swallows hard. “I understood that it was only a matter of time before HYDRA found me. We were lucky before that because no one suspected I could be with you. But under no circumstances did I want them to get you. I knew I had to go. That is why I did it.”

Tony nods slowly. “And then what? You just decided to go back to HYDRA?”

James laughs dryly, without a trace of humor in his voice. “Of course not. I went on the run. But in the end, no matter what I do, they always find me, don’t they?” His mouth twists into a grimace of self-hatred and resignation.

Not under my watch, no, Tony thinks to himself. Instead he says, “You broke my heart.” Because as reluctant as he is to show his vulnerability, this is James. And he’s always been able to be honest with James.

“I’m sorry,” James says in all earnestness.

“I’m not forgiving you for what you have done.”

“I understand.”

“Not yet at least.”

At that James’ gaze shoots up in surprise.

Tony clears his throat slightly shy. “I—I understand that the… brainwashing and stuff. That it wasn’t you. I just… I just need some time.” And it’s true. Tony had read the Winter Soldier’s files; he saw what they did to him and he understands on a completely rational level that it’s not James who is responsible for all those deaths.

He only needs his emotions to come to that understanding too and then he would truly be able to forgive him.

And really, as much as he always claims that he worked to bring the Avengers back together was because the world needed them, he knows the real motivations for it had been for James only. When Pepper had broken up with him because “there was someone else occupying his heart she could never reach” he hadn’t been able to contradict her. Seeing James again after all that time has only proven her right too.

“Tony…”

“Great, now that that’s settled, take my tablet and read me something,” Tony interrupts James before he can go any further, because there is only so much emotional talk Tony can handle in one day and that line has been exceeded a long while ago.

“I… what?”

“Read me something. I am a poor injured soul deserving to be properly pampered. And I want a good-night story.”

And as James slowly smiles brightly at him, gray eyes glinting in hope and wonder, it’s like not a single day has gone by since he disappeared on him.

Tony is still wary. Remembers only too well those days after James had left him. Can’t forget the Winter Soldier’s hand around his mother’s neck. His fingers itch with the urge to hold a drink, but he snuggles deeper into bed, letting James’ soothing voice and the story of a girl who finds a wonderland in a closet lull him into contentment.

Tony meets James for the first time in December 1991 in a seedy bar in Brooklyn and then a second time in 2016 in a Siberian bunker. He thinks that if against all odds their paths cross not only once, but twice, then maybe they should take a step forward together and see, where the path will lead them to.

And if they just believe strong enough in it, they might even find their wonderland for a second time too.

#may writes #may's moodboards #winteriron #buckytony #starkbucks #tony stark #bucky barnes #WI WEEK 2020 #WinterIron Week #angxlsgrxce #may answers #fucking finally finished this fic :)))#nothing went as it should've :)))#i am absolutely not happy at all how it turned out but at this point idc anymore <3 #wish this fic was a person so i could strangle it to death <3 #shall it burn in hell <3 #but yay! i finished it! :D

59 notes · View notes

keysmashingfantasies · 3 years

Text

Bloody Comfort

pre borderlands!Niragi x fem!reader / Niragi x fem!reader

A/N: i feel like i only post Marvel on this blog and i missed my show so here it is, finally an AiB fic! :D also, minigame: how many alice in wonderland references can you spot? also also, bloody comfort is an awesome name for a band and if you do name your band that, i want my money. enjoy the fic! also also also i didn’t proofread SHIT so sorry for any grammar mistakes.

trigger warning: bullying, mentions of violence (nothing too graphic, i think but beware nonetheless), death (graphic. i mean, i’m not that good of a writer but still, beware), very slight mentions of nsfw, especially torwards the end, niragi (HE’S A WARNING OK), niragi having disturbing thoughts (what else is new. but fr, ok), sliiiiiight yandere niragi torwards the end. (also I tried not to describe in too much detail the bullying that niragi and the reader suffer in the fic so it wouldn’t be too sad).

@dreamingofanisland here it is bestie!

Niragi couldn’t pinpoint when he stopped being sad and when he started getting angry. From a suffocating hopelessness came a desperation he could only describe as feral. He often fantasized about just jumping over his desk and strangling each one of them to death but his thoughts quickly ended with Niragi envisioning himself being overpowered and beaten. He started to not only get angry at his bullies, but people in general. Things. Life.

How could so many people turn a blind eye? How could life be so unfair to give people like this the upperhand and not him? Not him that clearly deserved it? This world was backwards.

He knew he was fucked when he saw the bat, and although he braced for the impact he couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wince at the sickening sound that the baseball did in contact with his nose.

He just sat there and while all he wanted to do was to rip their throats with his teeth all he did was to endure a few more punches before they left with a promise that there would be more. He sat there trying not to cry with sheer frustration. His papers were scattered around, the left arm of his glasses was broken and his pristine black outfit was now covered in dust from the gravel, his hands scratched. He could taste blood on his tongue and he felt a sick satisfaction, pretending for one moment that it was another person’s blood he was tasting.

“Do you need help?”, a voice woke him from his violent daydreams. Suddenly everything boiled over and he felt an overwhelming anger rise inside of him. In a blink of an eye he was standing up, yelling at a somewhat blurry image of a girl who he towered over, even more as she shrunk under his anger. If he wouldn’t be so busy screaming profanities, he would be madly aroused.

“WHAT, HUH? CAME TO SEE THE SHOW? TO LAUGH AT ME?”, he was furious, and as he approached her, she proceeded to walk back.

“No. I just wanted to help”, she said. It seemed another flash and suddenly he could see a bit clearer. Although startled, she didn’t seem afraid of him, and was extending him a tissue. “Your nose is bleeding”, she said, and Niragi wanted to scoff at her for stating the obvious. But she was being kind. And as angry as he was, kindness wasn’t something that he could say no to. He tried his best to control his shaky hands as he took the tissue from her hands and carefully dabbed his nose, as she ducked to collect his papers, and tuck them back into his bag.

“Saw what they did to you. ‘m sorry”, she mumbled. Niragi wanted to strangle her out of sheer embarrassment.

“And you just took some popcorn and enjoyed the spectacle?”, he spat.

“I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. Would you rather if I had called someone?”, she asked. He breathed once, twice. She wasn’t mocking him, but was unnervingly calm. Something about her being calm while he was practically foaming at the mouth had him seeing red and suddenly he regret having wiped the blood off of his lips.

“No”, he said, calmly. “No, I wouldn’t. Sorry. I have to go”, he said, ripping his bag from her hands with such force that he tugged her arm with it.

“Wait! I mean what I said! I want to help!”

“You, help me? What are you going to do, huh? Be my bodyguard?”, he mocked her one more time. He couldn’t help himself, his brain got used to this. Fight or flight. His adrenaline was pumping and everytime he was around school grounds he looked over his shoulder.

“Hmmm, sorta? Not exactly but I could show you a place. A safe place”, she said. He just looked at her.

“If we get there and it’s a prank of some sort I’ll let you punch me. Square in the face”, she said.

“Are you insane? You just go around letting people punch you in the face?”, his mouth was quicker than his brains and suddenly he felt his face grow hot at the irony of what he had said. But if she noticed it, she didn’t mention.

“Let me help you”, she said.

And he did.

He followed her through a wooded area near the school grounds after walking through a hole in a fence.

He was getting ready to beat you to the punch and hit you so hard that you’d bleed as hard as he did, until you stopped until you reached a very underwhelming toolshed with a padlock.

“We’re here”, you said, and he realized that she sounded different. All this time she was on edge. ‘Of course, Suguru, you threatened the girl like, 3 times’, said the voice in the back of his head. She pulled a key from her bag and the padlock opened easily and they heavy chains fell to the ground and she pushed open the door, going inside. He hesitantly followed.

The inside is nothing as he thought it would be. For starters, it was surprisingly clean and it didn’t smell bad. And instead of tools and brooms and leafblowers, it had bean bags, blankets, a table with a radio full of knickknacks in the corner and a chair that had clearly seen better days but looked comfortable none the less. The girl walked to a corner of the room and his eyes followed her as she closed the door, which had small sharpie drawings on it. She reached for a white box and settled it on the floor between the two bean bags, and reached inside a very small thermos to pull out an artificially blue isotonic drink and settled it down too. Then from the plastic bag he previously assumed was trash, she pulled a bag of chips.

She then patted the bean bag next to hers. “Welcome to my clinic”, she said, placing the white box on her lap.

After an entire afternoon of bonding over unhealthy food and an impromptu first aid rescue, Niragi learned that her name was Y/N, she was a year below and that this little world she created was her refuge from the girls in her class that picked on her.

“I found this and decided that it would be nice. No one’s using it, it’s far from everything. It’s on the Beheaded Woman’s territory”.

Niragi heard the rumors through his bullies. “One day we’ll drag you to the Beheaded Woman’s woods and fucking kill you”. After further investigation, he learned that allegedly a girl was dragged through the woods and beheaded with a blunt axe.

“I made the rumors up. I had to make sure no one would find my safe haven”, she explained. “And once you write something in the girls’ bathroom stall, there’s no turning back. It’s out there and it’s truth”, she sighed. “I would know”.

He wasn’t the most up to date in all the gossip but she told him her story. The rumors they spread, the things they did to her. She almost seemed amused. He in turn told her his story. By the end of it, he could kill someone. She then offered him the other key to her safe haven.

“You can decorate it too. Don’t tell anyone else and make sure to lock it after you use it. Use it as much as you want, just make sure they don’t follow you, okay?”

He took the keys with shakey hands, a knot on his throat. Another type of adrenaline was pumping through his veins. When a few moments ago there were a fast white heat, coursing through him like an electric current, this was slow and almost overwhelmingly warm, like molten lava.

“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me?”, he whispered as if it was a secret, as if this moment was another fantasy, a deer that’s easily spooked. He had fantasized about this too. A safe haven, an ally. A friend.

“Because we’re the same, you and I”.

You hated him. You hated him with a burning passion. What was at first an act of pity, born from the empathy you felt by seeing someone go through what you did, quickly became a friendship and like a disease, it spread to beyond your safe haven. You would spend your free time together, walk home together. You became friends. And what did he do? Exactly what he told you he would.

“Sometimes don’t you wish to disappear?”, he whispered to you once.

“Yeah. Like, run away? Yeah, I do”, you replied agreeing with him.

‘You’re the only one that understands me. We really are the same’, he would say. What at the beginning of your budding crush on him gave you butterflies on the stomach now made you want to throw up.

You lost your only friend. You despised the sound of music now, because every single song you heard, you shared with him. For the same reason, you didn’t enjoy your favorite movies anymore. Your bullies banded together to target you. And the worst part of all, is that you couldn’t even care. There was no silver lining anymore.

“Don’t you get furious?! Don’t you want to hurt them, make them pay?”, he said as he watched you apply concealer to a bruised cheek.

“I mean, I get angry but I try my best to not let it get to me. It’s what they want. I despise those people, I can’t get in a funk because of them”, you said nonchalantly.

But you had loved him. And now you felt like even moving around was an herculean task, like you were almost dead trying to get to safety. But there was no safety anymore.

Ironically, you started to understand him more and more after he disappeared. The anger, the hatred. How could anyone just follow their lives? When there’s people like you just suffering through yours?

Suguru Niragi was an illness, a parasite. He carved his way under your skin and into your heart, laid eggs of his hate on your veins and sucked you dry of your life’s essence. Then, after you were a shell of a human, he disappeared out of thin air, leaving you alone. Leaving you with those people. Leaving you to die.

And you were still in love with him.

You thought you were finally insane when it happened.

The streets were empty. Absolutely no one. You wondered for a moment if you felt so alone that your mind convinced itself that that’s exactly what had happened, if any moment now you would be locked in an insane asylum for running around and screaming until you throat got raw.

It took you two games to understand what was going on. You made sure to change clothes. Running shoes, leggings and a warm hoodie that you never let the hood down. You decided to significantly shorten your hair after you saw a man pull a young girl by the ponytail in a spades game. You loaded a backpack with food and bottles of water, anything you could find. And an axe that you took from an emergency box from the building you slept in.

It was on your 5th game that it happened. You saw people die in these games, but none of it was hands on for you. You just watched your back and hoped to win and let whoever was running this show take care of the rest. Honestly, you didn’t even wait to know if anyone even survived. You were done doing that.

When you got there, there were five people already. They banded together and whispered amongst themselves as you passed them by and grabbed a phone. Probably just a group of friends that got stranded at the same time and decided to stay together. You clutched you axe harder.

You didn’t even realize that you had zoned out until you heard hollering and four guys heavily armed walked you by. Where the fuck did they get guns? One of them let out a boisterous laugh that reminded you of someone that you wanted desperately to forget. You couldn’t even get over him during fucking Saw? That sound made your skin crawl.

Registration closed, said the mechanic voice. Difficulty: 8 of clubs. The first 5 players will be the first team and the last 5 players will be the second. One team must eliminate the others without losing any players. Both teams will be identified by the color of your screen, and will have one minute to hide.

You saw the armed guys’ screens light up red. You sighed in relief as yours did too. You made sure to keep your head down and thank whoever that not killing teammates was a part of the rules. They seemed amused and absolutely calm, and the guy with the rifle laughed again. You were shaking by now.

When the minute started, everyone bolted in different directions. You didn’t even look back to see if your teammates had accompanied you but by the sound of your footsteps crushing leaves, you were alone. You decided to go back after a while, looking around. A lamppost. Huh, lamppost it is. You leaned against the cool metal and focused on the silence. The minute had ended but they were still hunting. You didn’t come across anyone, which was good. After a while, all you could hear were distant gunshots.

You looked to the floor, only to see a shadow approaching you quick. You barely had time to dodge before a man hit you behind the head with a rock. You reacting made him lose his balance, falling to the floor and letting go of the rock. You looked at him. It was one of the boys from the other team. He had on a white button up blouse and a black hoodie. His hair had fallen over his brown eyes and he looked so scared and so alone.

This will have to do.

You didn’t stop, suddenly lifting the axe and bringing it down was like an automatic thing.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU! HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME? AFTER ALL I’VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A MINUTE, LEFT ME ALONE IN THAT HELL!”

You didn’t stop when he started praying and then screaming. You didn’t stop when he started bleeding profusely or when the strength of your movements made your hood slide down from your head. You didn’t stop when his head got detached from his body and if you weren’t so angry, you would’ve listened tfootsteps. You didn’t stop until you had made mincemeat out of his face. Just for the sheer audacity of reminding you of him.

He looked at you from afar while you looked at the body of the boy whose skull you just had destroyed, a maniac, victorious smile on your face. You were pretending the boy was him. You really thought he had abandoned you? He would be absolutely heartbroken if he wasn’t so aroused. That’s what he always wanted to see, the instincts that you tried to push down. You were right, you were both the same. He wanted to lick that blood off of you, use it as lube to take you right there. When he first arrived at the Borderlands, when he first killed someone and liked it, he thought you would be disgusted by him. But look at you now. You were here, perfect for him, soaked in blood, feral. He’s never been so hard.

“Y/N”, he said.

“Niragi?,” you said. He ran to you, held you even when you fought back, even when you screamed bloody murder that you were going insane, begging to die already, even when you passed out on his arms. He licked a drop of blood from your neck.

“Let me take you to our safe haven”, he whispered against your skin.

#niragi loving hours in this mf house #niragi x reader #niragi fic #niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland fic #niragi suguru x reader #suguru niragi x reader

590 notes · View notes

miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Note

Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’.

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing.

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes.

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him.

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up.

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter.

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he?

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

#ask #last line #dicktim #but not #soulmate au #red string au #angst #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #red robin #nightwing #red hood #jason is a good bro #dick sucks as a soulmate #bruce is gonna be confused as fuck when he comes back #my writting #my writing

196 notes · View notes

ssscentral · 3 years

Text

Mine

Summary: Is it a dream? A nightmare? Just a figment of my imagination. Or is it something more?

WIP - Masterlist - Members

Pairing : Namjoon x Reader || Established Relationship

Genre : Horror, Demon!AU

Warnings : Character death, brief gore at the end, it be scary

WC : 2.6k

Member : Kas || @voiceswithoutlips��

A/N : This is the fourth and last installation in the “Hell of a Ride” series. All four parts have the same prompt, but the authors have interpreted it in their own way. This is a horror fic, like it’s scary, there’s no fluff or smut. Thank you @taegularities and @heejinnien for being awesome betas and for all your feedback <3 And a special thanks to @eternalseokjin for helping out <3 I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Sunday

I wished Namjoon and I could go on a long vacation somewhere. I barely saw him since he had started working at night. He seemed so distracted these days - his company had just landed a big project, so he had to work overtime. Yesterday I came home from work and he was just leaving for his office. He gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then he was gone. That’s all the action I’ve gotten since the Halloween fiasco, to say that we went wild would be an understatement.

We had attended a friend’s Halloween party. I had dressed as a slutty demon and Namjoon had gone as a priest. My red dress had been so short, it barely covered anything. Halfway through the party Namjoon had finally snapped and dragged me back to our apartment. Needless to say, the sex was incredible. He had quite gotten into his role and incoherently grunted in Latin as things got heated. I had no idea what he was mumbling, but I was too far gone to care.

That was a month ago. Unfortunately, after that I’d barely seen my boyfriend in the house, or anywhere else for that matter.

Monday

I could barely sleep last night. I went to bed after a lonely dinner. I’ll admit to being a little tipsy after all that wine but in my defense, I missed my boyfriend. As soon as the lights turned off, I heard this scratching noise coming from the walls. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but the thought of rats running around in my apartment brought goosebumps on my skin. Our building was really old and the landlord never really did any TLC, one of the reasons we got this apartment cheap. What if there were raccoons in there? I shivered at the thought.

After about two hours of that unholy noise, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I got up, turned on the lights and armed myself with a broom. I lightly tapped the broom on the wall, maybe the noise would scare them into leaving. After a few more taps the scratching stopped, thank Lord for that. I didn’t want to go sleep in the living room or call our shady landlord.

I glanced at the clock when I went back to bed. It was almost six in the morning. How the hell did that happen? I remember waking up at midnight. Did I fall asleep? Somehow I’d lost a few hours. I bet it was the exhaustion and stress taking over my wine addled brain.

Tuesday

We had this really romantic dinner planned at our favorite restaurant. Namjoon said he’d pick me up from work and I was so excited for it, but he called at the last minute to cancel. His boss had called him in early to work on some presentation. It is safe to say I was extremely upset, and rightly so. I’d barely seen my boyfriend for a month, even texting him was getting annoying. I’d ask him something and by the time he replied I’d already be fast asleep. One dinner, was that too much to ask for?

I couldn’t help but feel disgruntled at how things turned out. Even though I knew Namjoon missed me just as much as I missed him, I couldn’t help but feel unwanted. It was illogical and petty, and the moment the thought crossed my mind I felt guilty. He worked so hard and here I was bitching about him.

Dinner was a sad affair, I was too upset to cook anything, so I ordered some chicken and drowned my sorrows in beer. I was about to fall asleep when I heard a light knocking on the door. I thought maybe Namjoon was back early, my sleep addled brain didn’t wonder why he’d knock when he knew the door code. I opened the door with excitement, only to be disappointed at the empty space in front of me. There was no one at the door. Either someone played a prank on me at this unholy hour or I missed my boyfriend so much that I imagined the knock, either way, it was disheartening.

I went back to bed in hopes of a quiet night. I hadn’t slept properly for two days. To say that I was exhausted would be an understatement. Sleep deprivation coupled with being a kindergarten teacher who had to run around all day after toddlers was taking its toll on my body.

Another knock came, but this time it sounded much closer. I squinted my eyes at the darkness - was I imagining things again? Heavy curtains covered the bedroom window. I could barely see anything in the room. Was I so lonely that I was hearing phantom noises now?

I turned on the lamp after a third knock. It came from the left wall. Rats don’t know how to knock, do they? I got up from the bed with a shiver. The bedroom was cold, I could see my breath in front of me. I gingerly touched the wall, it was just a wall, what did I expect? This time I could feel the vibrations when the knock came again, much louder. I ran back to bed, dread settling in my bones. What if there was some homeless person behind it? It was an irrational thought, I knew that, but I couldn’t help the fear.

I tried to call Namjoon but it only went to voicemail. And what would I even tell him? That there was someone inside our bedroom wall? The whole situation seemed ridiculous but at the same time the knocking only got louder. I huddled in my blanket waiting for it to stop. The knocking had turned to pounding, the sound reverberating through my skull. Surely our neighbors must’ve heard it?

Wednesday

I called the landlord and insisted that he should check for rats, but he said there were no rats. I asked the neighbors about the sounds; nobody had heard anything, not a single scratch or a squeak. I was losing my mind. Namjoon looked so concerned when he came home this morning. I looked like a crazy woman, red eyes, disheveled hair, don't even get me started on the eyebags. He insisted that I go see a doctor, maybe a therapist. The stress was getting to me. I was so desperate for sleep, but all I could do was get ready for work.

The day was a blur - the only thing I properly remember was almost screaming at a five year old for showing me his drawing of a rainbow. I was going crazy. I stared at the empty bed, dreading to fall asleep. I prayed to every deity in existence for sleep. I was sure that the noise from last night had been stress induced and after a good night’s sleep everything would be okay.

Someone was speaking. Was Namjoon back? I glanced at the clock, it was midnight. I reluctantly shuffled out of the blankets and turned on the light. The room was empty, just another dream then. But as soon as I turned off the light, I heard it again, clear as day, a quiet laugh. It echoed around the room as if it had a life of its own.

I fought the rising panic in my chest. I was standing in the dark with my hand on the light switch. I desperately wanted to turn on the lights but I was frozen in place, heart pounding. There was someone in the room, someone besides me, someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.

I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck. Someone was standing right behind me, so close I could feel the cold radiating from their body. A chill ran down my spine. My brain stopped working, all I could think of was how much I didn’t want to die. Was he going to stab me? Strangle me? Maybe he’d torture me just for the fun of it.

“MINE!” a guttural voice said, laced with such malice that the adrenaline finally kicked in. My fingers acted on their own, turning the lights on. My body whirled around before I could stop it to see the face of this stranger. But there was no one there. The room was empty.

Thursday

I woke up with a massive headache. I was somehow in my bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. Fear spiked through me as soon as I heard someone walk towards the bedroom door. I was about to scream when Namjoon peaked through the door and said, “Hey baby, want some scrambled eggs?”

I don’t know what took over me but as soon as I heard his voice I started sobbing. He quickly scooped me up in his arms and tried to soothe me. He was so confused as to why his girlfriend was crying first thing in the morning. Between sobs I told him what had happened, what was still happening - I couldn’t help it. I wanted someone to know, no, I needed someone to know. It felt like I was losing my mind. How could the room be empty?

Namjoon insisted that I take a day off today, but I couldn’t. I needed to get out of that apartment, I couldn’t stay there. I wanted to feel the sun on my skin, I wanted to hear the children’s laughter. My boyfriend was sure that it was just a nightmare. Was it though? I was sure I was wide awake. I had heard his voice, clear as day, mine, that’s what he had said. Mine.

Namjoon tried to take some time off but his boss wouldn’t let him. He had to go on a business trip. I had assured him that I would call him immediately if anything happened. Maybe it was just a nightmare, maybe there was nothing in the dark. The sleep deprivation, loneliness, and the stress had finally gotten a hold of me. That’s what it was, my brain trying to make sense of my emotions. Nothing else.

I reluctantly got off the elevator. It was almost midnight, I had stayed out with my friends as long as I could. I was dreading going back to my empty apartment. As soon as I entered, I swept the living room with my eyes. Everything was in its place. Namjoon was a bit of a neat freak, I didn’t know what I was expecting. I exhaled shakily; I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath.

I debated whether I should turn off the bedroom lights or not. On one hand, I was an adult and I could just sleep with lights on. On the other, I was an adult and not a six year old who was scared of some imaginary monster. I had too much pride, so I hesitantly turned off the lights and hopped under the blankets.

I couldn’t fall asleep, I was too tense. The sound of the refrigerator, the comforting ticking of the clock, every familiar sound had suddenly turned eerie. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt exposed, like someone was watching me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. I debated whether I should open my eyes or just keep them closed.

I chickened out and opened my eyes, frantically looking around. There was nothing. The bedroom was slightly illuminated and I had purposefully kept the curtains open, just to let some light in. I sighed and burrowed more under the soft fabric, hugging a pillow. Nightmare, that’s all it was, just a nightmare.

I slowly relaxed, tracing patterns with my eyes on the dull, yellow wallpaper. I’d always hated that wallpaper, it was the color of piss. The pattern on it was irritating, just a bunch of lines that seemed to lead nowhere. The more I looked at it, the more I was vexed. I had half a mind to get up and violently peel it off the wall when I saw it.

A pair of eyes were looking at me from the heating vent. The vent was located on top of the wall, its cover was open. Even though it was pitch black in that small space, I could clearly see those hostile orbs. Vertical pupils stared at me with such hatred that I couldn’t help but whimper. Every instinct in my body recoiled from terror. I could feel the blood pumping in my veins, my heart painfully pounding in my chest, I’d never felt so alive and so helpless.

I wanted to run away from those eyes, the staring boring through my skull. I wanted to scream - surely someone would hear me? I wanted to call Namjoon, I wanted to feel safe. But I couldn’t. I had a sinking feeling that if I made any movement, it’d come out and jump on me. So I just laid there, barely breathing, perfectly still, like a dead body.

It laughed. A horrible grating laugh that rang through the room. It touched my skin and I felt an intense pain, like a thousand tiny cuts. It was such a repulsive sound that I had to force myself from flinching. My tiniest movement could set it off. I didn’t know how I knew that, I didn’t know if it was even logical but at that moment, all I could think of was those eyes, dripping with venom.

Mine. It growled. It kept saying that over and over again, sometimes it was soft, like a baby’s whisper, sometimes it was louder than thunder. The sound was in the room but at the same time it was in my head, like an airpod had fallen through my ear and landed in my skull. It was everywhere.

Friday

I woke up groggy. My body felt like someone had put it through a blender, my head throbbing in pain. I could barely open my eyes, everything hurt. I didn’t remember much about last night, the only thing I could recall was being extremely afraid. I reached for my phone and somehow, through trial and error, dialed my boss to call in sick. I was so exhausted and as soon as I mumbled my apologies, I lost consciousness.

My eyes opened to a dark room. I sighed when I felt a body press against my back. Namjoon was back, everything was going to be okay. I rolled around and buried my face in his neck. I’d never felt so safe. I inhaled deeply, he smelled so good, like orange blossoms. When did he change his cologne?

He put his hands around me, clutching me to his chest. I had missed him so much, I gripped his shirt. When did he start wearing a shirt to bed? His arms caged me to him tightly.

“Joonie, too much,” I whined when he squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“MINE,” he growled.

Saturday

The smell hit him before he could see inside the room, metallic, like the smell in a butcher shop. Detective Jung almost lost his breakfast when he saw the crime scene. The ugly yellow wallpaper was covered in blood. It had seeped through the blankets and the mattress. Every color was distorted by red. There was a pile of undistinguishable body parts on the bed. The soft carpet made squelching sounds as the forensic team moved around the room.

Detective Jung left the apartment in a hurry, a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. He would question the suspects first - to him, everyone who wasn’t the victim was a suspect. It was better than going back inside and putting together the puzzle that once used to be a human being.

Kim Namjoon was sobbing in a corner, the victim’s boyfriend. He was the one who had called the police after coming home from a business trip. He was in shock, he could barely comprehend anything that was happening around him. Detective Jung tried to talk to him with no success, he’d just have to wait.

“What happened?” a melodic voice asked.

“Who are you?”

“Park Jimin, I moved here a month ago.”

#bts x reader #bts horror #demon jimin #bts demon au #bts fanfiction #park jimin #kim namjoon #bts jimn #bts namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #ssscentral #sssc #kas

55 notes · View notes

thirstyforcharacters · 3 years

Text

1. Winter Storm Warning

Part 1 of 4 of the Winter Storm Warning Series

Summary: A sect of the First Order is attempting to clear out the former Rebel base on Hoth and turn it into a First Order safe haven. When Finn discovers this, Leia sends out two of her best pilots to care of them. The only problem? They absolutely hate each other.

Notes: Hello! The snowstorm that hit my area last week inspired me to write a snowy, tension filled fic! Though this isn't explicit yet, there will most likely be smut in the last chapter, so stay tuned for that haha. This is a 4 chapter story (you can find chapters 2, 3, and 4 here), so I hope you end up enjoying it! (use of she/her pronouns in future chapters, no y/n)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, smut in future chapters (18+ only!), light angst for now (mostly petty arguing), but will get angstier in the future

WC: (almost) 2.3k

“Admiral, I need you to do this.”

“With all due respect, General Organa, I can’t. You know how much I despise him. It’s not going to go well.”

“You two are the best pilots in the Resistance. There’s no way you’ll reach Hoth in time to catch them without your skill. I know you don’t get along, but I need you to try, just this once. Then, you can go back to hating each other in peace,” the general pleaded.

You knew that eventually, you would say yes. The mission to Hoth was vital; a small subsection of enemy forces were attempting to clean out the old Rebel base on the planet and turn it into a hidden First Order haven. The Resistance was incredibly lucky that Finn had stumbled across that intel, or perhaps lucky that someone had betrayed the First Order to get you that information. Either way, you knew you had to do something about it. You just didn’t particularly want to do it with Poe.

See, from the moment you two had met in flight school, you were bitter rivals. At some point in your careers, one of you just barely out flew the other. And in the wake of your flying rivalry came a seething hatred that translated to real life. Since joining the Resistance, you had taken on a higher title than him because you were better at administration, which left you grounded more often. Unfortunately, that meant that Poe had taken the title of best pilot, despite the fact that you were just as good. At least you were an Admiral and he was a Commander. You could still hold that over his head.

But you knew that Leia was right, so you said, “Fine. He just better not do anything stupid.”

The general smiled gently and placed a hand on your shoulder, “If he does anything too stupid, I’ll set him straight when he gets back.”

“I appreciate that, General. Oh, speak of the devil.”

Poe strode in then, with Finn and Rey on either side. They were both laughing at something he said; knowing him, it was probably dumb as hell. Poe waved at General Organa and didn’t even glance at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Good morning, General,” he greeted her cheerily.

“Good morning, Commander,” she replied warmly.

Finn and Rey looked at you sympathetically and both waved hello. At least his friends were nice. You didn’t understand how two kind and wonderful people would hang out with his sorry ass. The two made their way to Lieutenant Connix, who had a mission of their own for them. Poe finished crossing the room to the two of you and only then did he look at you. He still didn’t speak, though, making you roll your eyes again. He glared at you, but still said nothing.

“Alright, you two, I know that historically, pairing you together doesn’t work out well. But I need your combined piloting prowess and fighting skill in order to make this work,” the general began.

“What for? I’m the best pilot here,” Poe interrupted, making your blood boil.

“You’re just scared that I’ll out-fly you and take your precious title. Best Pilot in the Resistance, my ass,” you growled back.

Poe’s brow furrowed in anger and he opened his mouth to retort when Leia snapped, “That’s enough out of you. Poe, be respectful. You and I both know that the admiral is one of the best pilots around. And you, Admiral, need to control your temper as well. The Resistance is relying on you, and I can’t have you two failing this mission because you’re bickering like an old married couple. Now, are you ready to act like mature adults and do this mission?”

You both nodded sheepishly.

“Good. You’ll be taking the Falcon since you’ll be flying a considerable distance. It will also be a bit better suited for the harsh weather of Hoth than your X-Wings. I know your original mission was just to take out the First Order forces, but we also want you both to un-repair anything that they might have already fixed. That way, no one can use it. I wish we could use it, but the First Order would definitely find us there if we take out some of their guys.”

“We’ll play nice, General, don’t worry,” you replied with what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

When trudging to the cockpit of the Falcon an hour later, you were already eating those words. Poe spent the entire time you were loading the ship complaining about how you were stacking your supplies instead of helping you. You wanted to tear his hair out of his skull, but you restrained yourself because you were still in the General’s presence. As soon as you were out of there, you knew you were going to rip him a new one. You threw yourself into the pilot’s seat and Poe entered into the cockpit behind you. You could practically sense the frown spreading across his face.

“Shouldn’t the real pilot be the one flying?”

“Shouldn’t the ‘real pilot’ have been helping to load the ship instead of bitching about it the whole time?”

“Get out of that seat. It’s mine.”

“No. You know I’m just as good, if not better than you. I’m flying this thing.”

You didn’t leave him any room to argue as you started up the ship. Flipping the levers and pressing the buttons may seem sort of random to any passersby, but you knew exactly what you were doing. Soon, the ship was roaring to life.

He groaned and flopped into the co-pilot’s chair, “Fine, but I’m flying on the way home.”

“Fine. Have fun trying to takeoff in a blizzard.”

“Have fun trying to land in it,” Poe retorted.

“I think I can manage. Now, do us both a favor and shut the hell up before I strangle you,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Not if I do it to you first.”

You rolled your eyes hard as you pulled the Falcon out of the hangar and flew into the vast expanse of space. This was going to be a long mission.

“I’m bored.”

“Good for you.”

He was like a child. Petulant. Whiny. Doesn’t know when to shut up. You two had been in hyperspace for a while now, and you had half a mind to turn this rattler around. The only reason you didn’t was because you didn’t want to face the wrath of Leia. But somehow, right now, that sounded preferable than being stuck in a flying death trap with this idiot.

“Let me fly.”

“No. You get the way home, remember?”

“But I’m better than you.”

Oh yeah, and there was him trying to convince you to let him fly. More like annoy you into jumping out of the ship.

“Do you want me to throw you out of this ship, Dameron? Because I’ll do so with pleasure.”

“And cost the general her favorite pilot? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You scoffed, “You really care about favorites? This isn’t about who likes who more it’s about saving the fucking galaxy. Come on, Dameron, I thought you’d at least be less childish than that, though I guess I’ve learned not to expect much from you.”

“And you’re not being childish by pettily arguing with me? Please, you’re not one to talk about maturity,” he snapped back.

“Fuck off. I don’t need to hear another word out of you until we land. We have to form some sort of plan.”

“Fine by me. I don’t particularly want to hear you, either,” he muttered in response.

The rest of the journey through hyperspace was made in tense silence.

It was only broken when you said, “Exiting hyperspace now.”

The two of you exited hyperspace and approached the snow covered planet. All seemed quiet so far, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t stay this way. You also knew that Leia had sent the two of you because almost no one else would be able to fly, land, or takeoff in Hoth’s harsh weather conditions. Now was the time to be sure that her faith in you wasn’t unfounded.

You entered the planet’s atmosphere not too far from where the former Rebel base was located, but still far away enough that hopefully you could land undetected by First Order forces. The winter storm whipping through the air made it extremely difficult to see, but you’d be damned if Poe thought you were having trouble. So, you kept a neutral expression, despite the fact that you were panicking slightly about the lack of vision. You cautiously navigated through the poor conditions until you found a fairly clear area to land. Without too much trouble (for the conditions you were in), you lowered the landing gear and found your footing on the pure white snow.

You turned to Poe to make a snarky comment about the smooth landing, but he had already left the cockpit. You scowled. Any other person who had been your co-pilot would have complemented you on a job well done, but of course Dameron doesn’t offer a word. What a nerf herder.

You swiftly exited the cockpit as well, and Poe was already putting on his winter gear. The puffy jacket, thick pants, gloves, and goggles were good for keeping you warm in the snow, but not exactly ideal for fighting. Unfortunately, if you didn’t want to freeze, you’d just have to make do. You began to do the same as him, and you got dressed in silence. You almost preferred the arguing between the two of you over the tense silence. It felt more stifling.

As soon as you had finishing changing and strapped on all of your weapons, Poe left the ship. You rolled your eyes. Guess you were coming up with a plan on the way there. You charged out of the ship after him right into the harsh snowstorm. Wind whipped at your bodies, the chill threatening to soak right through your thick clothing. You could barely make out the other pilot’s figure just a few feet ahead of you.

“Hey!” you shouted, “shouldn’t we be coming up with some sort of plan?”

Either he couldn’t hear you over the wind (which was entirely plausible) or he was ignoring you (which would be much more in character). If that was the case, he was being absolutely ridiculous! You needed to have some sort of attack plan in order to be able to take this base back. You sprinted through the heavy snow to catch up to him.

“Did you hear me? We need to have a plan of attack,” you yelled.

He shook his head, “My plan is to attack.”

“But how? There’s gonna be way more of them than us. We need to figure something out,” you exclaimed.

“We’ll be fine, Admiral. They don’t know we’re coming. No matter what we do, we’ll take them by surprise. Now be quiet. We’re almost there.”

You were absolutely seething. How dare he be so reckless? And he ran ahead of you, so you couldn’t even tell him how much of a dumbass he was! You knew this wasn’t gonna end well. Even if it was true that this was a surprise attack, you at least needed some type of strategy. Everyone should know that, especially the commander in a resistance that exists to save the galaxy! And he practically dismissed your opinion as bullshit! You knew you were right; going in without a plan was definitely going to be your demise. Maybe he wasn’t as great as he thought he was.

At any rate, even if you were going in blind, you knew you needed to calm down a bit so you could concentrate on the upcoming fight. You took steady, deep breaths in and out, like you always did when you were nervous. It may seem simple to most, but it really helped you center yourself.

When you finally caught up to Poe again, you were almost at the base. You both hid behind a snowdrift, and you could see a couple Stromtroopers straggling around the outside of the base.

“See, there’s only like 5 of them. We can just shoot them and be on our way,” Poe said with a smirk.

“It’s never that easy,” you grumbled under your breath.

Apparently, Poe thought it was, because he popped up from behind the snowbank and got a direct headshot on one of the troopers before ducking back down.

“Hey, who the hell was that?” one of the troopers questioned.

“Grab your weapons! We’re under attack!” another shouted.

You sighed and popped up from behind it as well, taking out two more of the guards. When you settled back down, Poe was gone.

“Oh, fuck me,” you muttered, glancing around for the reckless commander.

You saw him behind one of the supply boxes. He ran out from behind it and shot the remaining two guards who were standing in front of the entrance to the base.

He gestured to you, “See, easy.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door opened and 5 more troopers came rushing out, tackling Poe to the ground. You jumped out from behind the snowbank and blasted as many of the troopers as you could, but more kept spilling out from the door until there were more than what you could keep up with. You knew it. You knew this would go poorly. Soon enough, you were surrounded.

“Welcome to Hoth, Rebel scum,” one of the troopers spat.

That was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

56 notes · View notes

averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Valley of the Dolls 3/10

The wonderful idea of apathy!Roman goes to @caffeinated-cryptid, an amazing artist and all-around great person. Check out their @ts-unsolved au, it owns my heart! This is mostly in line with their ideas, but I took it in a slightly different direction. These chapters are getting steadily longer and I’m sorry. You can find this fic on Ao3 here.

(Title is from Valley of the Dolls by MARINA. Chapter is based around The Record Player Song by Daisy the Great)

Pairings: platonic DLAMPR

Warnings: gun mention, blood mention, eating and food, slight NSFW jokes, depression and depressive symptoms, very minor body horror, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation, sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Janus, a ton of angst (but I’ve got a happy ending planned). Set immediately after Putting Others First.

Summary: After the disastrous video and a week of spiraling, Roman becomes a Dark Side, Apathy. At first, Remus is thrilled, dragging his brother into all sorts of trouble. But Roman’s no fun anymore, the other Sides are paying a visit downstairs, and it’s becoming clear that Thomas can’t survive without Creativity by his side.

Chapter 3: Change of Pace

First. Previous. Next. Masterlist.

Wipe my eyes and cut me off I'm just crying for attention I wish I'd been a teenage rebel Never even got detention I don't really love you I just said that for a change of pace I'm sorry, sometimes I don't recognize my face ...Sometimes I think all I'm ever doing is Trying to convince myself I'm alive.

“So.”

Jan didn’t respond. He was still staring at the door.

“So,” Remus said again, hoping something would happen this time.

“One minute, Remus.”

Remus tapped his feet together and waited. Ten seconds in, he got bored. “So?”

Jan pinched the bridge of his nose. “One. Minute. Remus.”

“It’s been like five minutes already!” Remus complained. “Are you having a mental breakdown?” Remus poked Jan’s cheek. “You seem the type to have a mental breakdown.”

Jan swatted Remus’ hand away. “I am not having a breakdown. I am considering my options.”

“Really?” Remus asked. “What are the options?”

“Forcibly dump Roman back with the ‘Light Sides’, groom him in the ways of evil and selfishness, let him waste away on his own, or burn the entire Mindscape to the ground so I don’t have to deal with this insanity.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully. “I like the last one.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

“But I think you’re forgetting the most entertaining option.” Remus spread his hands. “How about—”

Jan glared at him. “Do not say murder.”

“Ah...” Remus shifted. “Theft! Of his life and internal organs!”

Jan gritted his teeth. “Of course you want to murder Roman.”

“I don’t want to,” Remus protested. “It would just be the most entertaining. He’s more fun when he’s alive! I can stab him and cut his fingers into itty bitty pieces and—”

A vein throbbed in Jan’s forehead. “Remus, be quiet for a second.”

Remus obediently waited a second. “—but I bet we could strangle him without too much trouble, unless you want to be really kinky and get some knives involved—”

“Remus.”

“—I dunno if you’re into that sort of thing...hey, we’ve never found out if you’re poisonous to eat! This could be our chance to—"

“Remus!” Jan snapped. “This has been a very long day. Thomas is sick as a dog from the reconstruction of his entire Mindscape, I had to comfort a sobbing Patton and a panicking Virgil despite not being an empathetic or comforting person, and now I find out that Creativity has been dumped on my doorstep like an unwanted magical orphan. Please, if you have any mercy, let me think.”

Remus looked Jan over. “So...you’re having a breakdown now, right?”

“Why haven’t I killed you yet?”

“Beats me!”

Jan leaned forward and slammed his forehead into Roman’s door.

“JanJan?” Remus tapped his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

“Praying for spontaneous human combustion.” Jan squeezed his eyes shut. “Give it a second.”

“C’mon.” Remus lowered his volume and tried his best to sound not entirely maniacal. “Let’s say hi to Roman already! Maybe he’s slept off his weird funk. Or maybe this was all thanks to sleep deprivation or a calcium deficiency and he’ll be back to normal in no time!”

“Should we be so lucky.” Jan slowly raised his head. “I suppose I should greet him, despite him definitely not wishing to see me.”

“He doesn’t want to see anyone,” Remus confessed. “It says so on the door.”

Jan nodded and knocked twice. “Roman? Can we come in?”

There was no reply.

“Let me in,” Jan ordered. “I am not having a repeat of the past nine days, Roman. I need to speak with you.”

Remus looked at the still-locked door. “Um, JanJan? Try not to sound like you’re going to yell at him for stealing your old record player or disown him for stripping. Just a thought.”

Jan sighed. “Fine. Roman, please. I don’t want this to be the case, but...you’re here now, and I want to help. Preferably to get you out of here as fast as possible. Whatever the case, I—I look after everyone down here. That’s my job. I suppose you’re technically part of that now. So...could you let me in?”

There was a long pause. Remus shuffled from foot to foot, ignoring the itch in his hands and feet. Jan glanced at him and tossed him a fidget cube, the one with the buttons. Remus grinned and began to fiddle with it immediately.

Finally there was a soft click and the door swung open.

Jan breathed a sigh of...relief? Who knew with JanJan. He stepped inside and Remus followed, still enjoying the satisfying click of the buttons.

Nothing in Roman’s room had changed. Roman still lay curled on the bed, staring at the wall.

“Hello,” Jan said delicately, fidgeting with his gloves. Remus chewed on his lip and wondered if Jan needed the fidget cube more than him. “Uh, Roman?”

“He’s listening,” Remus explained. “Just doesn’t bother talking back.”

“Okay. Alright.” Jan tried for a smile. “So! You’re Downstairs now? A ‘Dark Side’, to use your terminology? Do you know why that happened?”

Remus chucked the fidget cube at Roman’s back, but even the small thump didn’t make Roman respond.

“Right, I suppose you couldn’t answer any of my questions if you’re currently mute.” Janus flexed his fingers. “Look. Can I be honest with you?”

That got a small derisive huff from Roman. Remus grinned.

“Yes, haha, I’m Deceit, very funny, let’s continue.” Jan tented his fingers. “You’re upsetting the delicate equilibrium I’ve scrounged from what I was given in this miserable dump, and your presence has implications I’d rather not think about. So I would, if you’d be so kind to let me, like to return you Upstairs and have our darling friends the ‘Light Sides’ figure out how to fix this. Do you understand?”

Roman stared at the wall.

“This is very disconcerting,” Jan muttered. “Roman, please move. Or speak. Or convey to me your sentience.”

“Look, he’s not gonna.” Remus shrugged. “Just roll with it and drag him anywhere he needs to go. He’s, like, really depressed.”

Jan’s eyebrows pinched together. “Depressed?”

“Yeah, he’s blue da ba dee da ba die.” Remus waved a hand. “It’s obvious.”

Jan gave Roman a piercing look. “If that’s the case, maybe we should summon that strange therapist with the pink shirt?”

“Roman’s side of the Imagination,” Remus said. “Dunno what it’ll look like right now. I guess we’ll have to explore...other avenues.”

“I don’t know whether you’re implying sex or torture, but no.”

“Hey, they don’t have to be mutually exclusive, if you—"

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Jan clenched his fist. “Why did I take that oath to never silence you guys?”

“Oh yeah!” Remus turned to Roman. “One of the perks of being down here—JanJan doesn’t shut you up! I mean, I guess he never did anyway ‘cause he says you’re easy to manipulate, but—” Janus coughed loudly. “Anyway! It’s actually pretty cool down here, Ro-Bro! We’ve got a couch and everything!”

Jan’s face worked. Remus didn’t know if he was about to smile or frown. “Yes, because Upstairs, they sit on a giant dinosaur plush to watch TV.”

“That sounds really cool though!” Remus exclaimed. “Remind me to make that later. Then we’ll have a couch and a dinosaur plushie and this handsome face and Jan’s cooking and a ton of other cool stuff!”

“Thank you,” Jan said, “for helping me list more reasons that support my claim: Roman should leave now.”

“I’m just trying to make him feel welcome!” Remus crossed his arms twice over so they slipped in and out of each other like slimy spaghetti noodles. “Look, either we stick him back with the Light Sides who are kind of the reason he’s like this, or let him hang out. Or murder him.”

“No murder.” Jan held out a finger. “I draw the line there. The others would be furious and I’m this close to infiltrating them and gaining their trust.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re calling it?” Remus grinned, darting out of reach. “What about that time you almost cried last week ‘cause PatPat gave you a hug—”

Jan hissed. “Be quiet!”

“What? Can’t handle the truth, Deceit?” Remus glanced at Roman. “Anyway, I really don’t think he’ll be telling anyone.”

Jan was silent. Remus took that as a cue to check Roman over and make sure he hadn’t died while they were talking. Out of the dimly lit hallway, he could see the gauntness of Roman’s face and the paleness of his skin. He had a small cape, and the edges were tucked around him in a makeshift blanket nest. His hair was greasy and unwashed, the dark section stiff like someone had rubbed turds into it.

“I could kill him,” Remus said conversationally. He knew he was repeating himself, he knew Jan didn’t want him to keep bringing it up, but the silence was awful and ill-fitting like an itchy Christmas sweater. “I could just knock him in the skull, he wouldn’t feel a thing!”

Jan opened his mouth, probably to tell Remus he was being annoying—yeah, like Remus didn’t already know, like that wasn’t the whole point of his existence—

“Sounds nice,” Roman mumbled, curling tighter into his blankets.

Remus’ train of thought derailed, smashed through the station, and caused the deaths of hundreds of innocent people.

Jan stared at Roman, eyes wide.

“Okayyy,” Remus said slowly. “Um—”

“No!” Jan threw up his hands and stalked towards the door. “No! Absolutely not! I am not equipped for this! We are taking him Upstairs immediately, Remus, and if you get in my way because you want another guinea pig, so help me I will lock you in your room!”

Remus glanced at Roman on the bed. His brother, usually so grand and loud and bold and annoying, looked very small.

“Jan,” Remus called. “Wait.”

Jan paused in the doorway, not turning around. “This had better be good.”

“I—” Remus searched for words. He wasn’t really good at stringing sentences together like Jan, because his thoughts didn’t really come in sentences. They were just bursts of feeling and vivid images.

“Can he stay the night?” Remus sucked in air through his teeth. “I know you hate him, but...maybe a few days?”

“He’s not welcome here,” Jan fired back. “He’s not safe here. You know this.”

“And he’s safe with them?” Remus laughed. “They’re the ones who made this happen in the first place!”

Jan turned around, frowning. “Remus, that’s not what—”

“Please.”

“What?”

“Please,” Remus repeated. “I bet you really want to help but you’re just being slippery about it. Please.”

“Of course I want to help!” Jan snapped. “I protect the ego—helping Roman is, quite literally, in my job description. But I don’t believe letting him wallow in sadness in this hovel hotel will do him any good!”

“So you’re saying you couldn’t do a good job?” Remus laughed. “Hey, I turned out fine! And Virgil’s alright except for the neuroses and panic attacks, but who’s perfect?”

Jan stared at him. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

“You know I don’t understand sarcasm!” Remus clasped his hands. “Pretty please, JanJan? Pretty please with mucus and intestine on top?”

A muscle jumped in Jan’s jaw.

“Fine,” he ground out. “He stays. For now. Only because I am not in the mood to go upstairs and deal with that mess again.”

Remus beamed, running up to Jan and spinning him around. “You’re the bestest, Double Dee!”

“Don’t call me that,” Jan muttered, extricating himself. “Let’s go, it’s time for dinner.”

“Goodie!” Remus clapped his hands. “Can Roman come too?”

Jan gave Remus a weary look. “...I suppose we couldn’t let him starve.”

“Yes!” Remus pumped his fist. “You won’t regret this, I swear!”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Jan agreed, watching Remus with a vaguely amused expression. “Spaghetti and meatballs tonight. Get Roman down the hall without maiming him, if possible.”

“Will do!”

Jan nodded and swept out the door, leaving Remus alone with his conked-out brother.

“So, Ro-Bro.” Remus stuck out his tongue and licked his eyelids. “You ready to get carried again?”

To his surprise, Roman sighed softly and rolled off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

Remus winced. “Um...good job! You planning to roll to the kitchen?” Roman made a weak gesture.

“You want me to roll you.”

Roman shook his head.

“You—”

Roman slowly, painfully slowly, started to sit up. “Oh!” Remus said, grabbing his hand and helping him to his feet.

Roman slouched, Remus noticed as he finally stood all the way up. His chin was dropped and he didn’t make eye contact. His cape curled around him, a safety blanket. Roman yawned and stumbled.

“Hey, no!” Remus yelled, clapping loudly. “It’s not sleepytime anymore! It’s dinnertime! Do you want to starve to death? Actually don’t answer that, I’m already worried enough about your mental state.”

Roman obligingly didn’t answer. He just sunk out. Remus idly wondered if Roman could rise up anymore or if he’d just appear like the rest of them. Then he thought to wonder where Roman was going.

There was a scream and a crash, and Jan yelled “Please do appear behind me!”

Remus snickered. Question answered.

He sauntered down the hall, pausing to work on a mural he’d been making on the living room wall. It depicted what Remus thought the inside of a stomach would look like. He added a few globs of red on one end before licking the paint off the brush and tossing the brush to the floor.

Jan was boiling water in the kitchen, his extra arms pouring drinks and setting the table. Roman was slumped in one chair, chin in his hand, picking idly at his napkin. Remus swung into the chair opposite him with a large smile and a squelching noise. He tossed a dead duck onto Jan’s chair. Without even looking, Jan grabbed the duck and tossed it in the trash. Boo.

“Here.” Jan ladeled the spaghetti into four bowls. One, he covered with saran wrap and left on the counter. The other three he tossed on the table. Wiping his six hands on the dish towel, Jan finally turned around. Remus saw him flinch slightly when he saw Roman sitting at the table.

Made sense. That used to be Virgil’s spot.

Jan quickly shook off the surprise and sat down, his arms disappearing into his sides. Remus frowned. He liked JanJan’s extra arms. They were all wiggly and opened up all sorts of neat possibilities. He still hadn’t found out if they regenerated after getting cut off. Like a starfish! Or a worm! Or an immortal fire golem! Maybe the hand grew a mind of its own and would scuttle around like one of Virgil’s spiders. It would be fun to have a pet hand. All of Roman’s pets ended up dying gruesomely, and almost five times it wasn’t his fault.

“Eat,” Jan said gently, winding spaghetti around his fork. He’d given Remus a fork, probably out of some delusional optimism that Remus would actually use it. Remus stabbed the fork into his shoulder for safekeeping and shoved a handful of spaghetti into his mouth. Then he popped in two meatballs, squirted sauce directly into his mouth, and swallowed.

Jan pointedly stared at his plate.

Roman wasn’t eating at all. He poked idly at the spaghetti, elbow on the table.

“Cheese?” Jan offered, pushing a bowl of grated cheese toward him.

Roman stared at it thoughtfully. His arm whipped out and he grabbed a handful of cheese, stuffing it into his mouth.

“You know,” Remus said, grinning, “I’m starting to like you.”

“There’s two of you.” Jan watched Roman swallow with disgust. “There’s two of you.”

“This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Remus wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Someone who truly understands me.”

Jan snorted. Roman didn’t. He let the remaining pieces of cheese fall from his hand and resumed staring at his spaghetti.

“It’s not poisoned,” Remus assured him. “Jan wouldn’t do that again. And anyway, I’d have been poisoned by now. Unless it’s one of the poisons I’ve built up a resistance to. Then you might be screwed.”

Roman set his fork down and pushed the plate away.

“Roman,” Jan said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not poisoned.”

Roman pushed the plate a little further away.

“Cheese isn’t a meal.” Jan pushed the plate back. “You need to eat.”

Roman looked away. “Not hungry.”

Jan gave Remus a loaded expression. Remus didn’t like that. The only things he liked loaded were guns and bank accounts.

But Jan took another bite of spaghetti and his expression smoothed over. “It was a huge scene Upstairs.”

“Really?” Remus leaned forward. “I want the juicy details!”

“Well, they’re all extremely distraught about the loss of their prince.” Jan’s eyes flickered over to Roman. “Virgil had a panic attack, I believe. Logan was furious, I couldn’t tell who at. Thomas immediately collapsed with a fever, and Patton wouldn’t stop sobbing into my shoulder.” Jan brushed at the offending shoulder. “It might have been amusing under different circumstances, but this time it was just sad.”

“Damn.” Remus tore a meatball in half and stuck the halves on his middle fingers. “Wish I could have seen that.”

“They probably won’t fully recover for days.” Jan glanced at Roman again. “That entire debacle in Roman’s room shook Virgil and Thomas up. I have no idea what actually happened, but from what I heard, it sounds nightmarish.”

Roman curled into himself, grasping at one side of his cape. “Sorry,” he whispered into his spaghetti.

“No, I—” Jan stammered. “R-right. Well, doubtless as soon as they recover, your friends will be marching down here and getting you back. Virgil especially would hate to leave you in such company. They won’t trust me to take care of you, that’s for certain. Perhaps they’ll mount some sort of rescue mission.” Jan smirked. “That would certainly be entertaining. If they call upon me to play the villain, I will gladly oblige.”

“Liar,” Roman muttered. “What?”

Roman’s mouth closed. Jan stared at him. So did Remus.

“O-of course I’m a liar,” Jan said. “My name is Deceit.”

Wait—which was the lie? That Jan would want to play villain? That the Sides didn’t trust Jan? That the Sides would come for Roman at all?

Remus funneled spaghetti into his mouth. Thinking sucked. That’s why he left the smarty-pants stuff to Jan.

Jan, who was now stabbing at his spaghetti viciously. Roman’s eyes closed and he seemed to fall asleep in the table. Remus grabbed his bowl and placed it on his head, letting the remaining tendrils of spaghetti crawl down his forehead.

Jan slammed his fork on the table. “Did I do this?”

Remus scrunched up his face in confusion. “Do what? A murder? A butthole?”

“This.” Jan gestured violently at Roman. “Is this my—I mean, am I going to be held accountable for this?”

“Why do you care?” Remus asked.

“I’d rather not be burned at the stake for corrupting the good prince Creativity.” Jan bit into every word. “So? Roman? Is this my fault?”

Roman didn’t open his eyes. Remus was sure he hadn’t heard the question until Roman said,

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Jan hissed. “That is not an answer!”

Roman shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now.”

Jan opened his mouth and shut it again.

“If you’re not gonna eat your food,” Remus said to Roman, “can I—”

“I’ll save it as leftovers,” Jan interrupted, taking Roman’s plate and sliding it into the fridge. “Remus, touch it and your life is forfeit.”

Remus pouted. “Roman wouldn’t mind, right, Roman?” Roman snored softly, head on the table.

“Is he asleep?” Jan asked.

“I guess?” Remus shrugged. “Must have been tired.”

“Hmph.” Jan placed the dirty dishes in the sink. “There goes my plan to force him into doing dishes. If he’s loitering around for the night, he may as well make himself useful.”

Remus looked at Roman, who was drooling on the table. “Yeah, I wouldn’t count on it.” Janus sighed loudly, casting his eyes up to the ceiling.

“But I can do the dishes!” Remus offered, jumping up and wiggling his fingers. “I’ll just need some hot wax, molten lava, and—”

“Never mind.”

“It’ll take like three seconds! Literally!”

“Never mind, Remus.”

“Fine, whatever.” Remus kicked his chair. “You’re full of don’ts today. What can I do?”

Jan’s face pinched. “I suppose you can accompany me this evening.”

“Yay!” Remus hugged Jan quickly. “What are we doing?”

“I was thinking Aladdin. A classic tale of lying and deceiving one’s way to the top.”

“Alright!” Remus grinned. “I like the genie.”

“You would.” Jan glanced at Roman. “Maybe a Disney movie would—get him moving.”

“I don’t think he’d get moving if there was nuclear fallout, but worth a shot.” Remus slid into the living room. “Let’s go!”

“You get it ready,” Jan said. “I have to...” He picked up the fourth plate of spaghetti.

“Right.” Remus really, really didn’t want to be alone with his brother. It would be silent and deadly. “I’ll come with!”

Jan, to his credit, didn’t look immediately disgusted. “Remus, I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“I’m coming!” Remus winked and congratulated himself for his innuendo. Then again, everything was innuendo if you said it right. “You said we’d get to hang out! So I’m sticking to you like a barnacle on the bum!”

“Sh*t,” Jan said, not looking that disappointed.

“Do you have some?” Remus asked, dancing over to the hallway. “That’d make things interesting! Come on, JanJan, let’s not keep him waiting!”

Jan pushed past Remus and strode down the hall. Remus followed, reciting every sex position he knew. It was victory every time Jan winced or said “Really, Remus?” Heck, it was a victory every time Jan looked in his direction. Momentary distraction was the peak of Remus’ social skills and all he could ever hope to achieve.

They passed Remus’ room—Remus made sure to make the door roar loudly and enjoyed Jan’s little jump—and came to the handle-less door. Jan carefully unlocked the flap and slid the spaghetti inside. As soon as it fell in, he slammed the flap shut and locked it again.

“Why do you do that?” Remus asked, summoning a bone and chewing on it.

“You know how dangerous he is.” Jan stood up and wiped off his gloves.

“No, I mean, why feed him? It’d be safer if you...let him be, right?”

Jan gave Remus a piercing look. “He’s a part of Thomas too, whether we like it or not. I’m self- preservation. I can’t just let him starve.” Jan marched back down the hallway. “Aladdin, was it?”

“Huh.” Remus tossed the bone at a wall and it cracked in two. “So how’s Roman different?”

Jan froze. “I...Because Roman has somewhere else to go. Aladdin, right? Let’s go, Remus.”

Remus spared a glance at the unmarked door and followed.

Aladdin was alright. Remus made a little ding sound every time Aladdin was shown shirtless. Janus hummed along to all the songs, though he bared his teeth when Remus pointed it out. Roman woke up briefly about halfway through, having been transplanted to a pile of cushions on the couch. Remus wondered if he would sing along. Instead he just hummed to himself and closed his eyes. For a second he nodded along to the music—no, no he was just nodding off, and okay he was asleep again.

When Aladdin ended, Remus put on The Shining. Janus took that as a cue to leave.

“Put Roman to bed,” Janus reminded him. “Well...he’s already asleep, but don’t let him stay on the couch all night.”

“He seems pretty chill,” Remus said, watching Roman’s bangs ruffle with each snore.

“Then do whatever you want.” Janus yawned. “This has been a thoroughly delightful day and I hate to end it, but my brain may explode if I have to continue thinking. Don’t burn anything down.”

“No promises!” Remus said. “Night, JanJan!”

“Sweet dreams, Remus.”

Yeah. Right.

Jan disappeared down the hallway, leaving Remus alone. It was the boring part of The Shining, so he fast-forwarded to the weird part. Roman didn’t wake up even when the screams started. Still, it was kind of nice to have company. Usually Remus spent his nights alone, bingeing horror flicks until his eyeballs were red. He didn’t really get tired, so it didn’t matter, and he did some of his best work at night.

It definitely wasn’t because of the nightmares.

Remus caught himself mid-thought. Lying would just alert JanJan. And it wasn’t Jan’s business. Yeah, maybe Remus missed Jan’s lullabies and being able to actually act on that promise that ‘My door is always open, Remus.’ Maybe it would be nice if he didn’t have grisly dreams of his friends dying every night. But Jan was busy these days. And Remus was Intrusive Thoughts. This was part of the deal. Remus was all the nasty stuff siphoned off of Roman to keep it away from Thomas. It was his job. And Remus loved his job! Just...not the side effects.

Remus turned up the volume until his eardrums rattled and he couldn’t hear himself think. Roman muttered something and turned over.

It was loud. Really loud. Remus barely noticed when someone appeared in the doorway.

He did notice when the TV turned off.

“Hey!” Remus whirled. “Jan, what gives—”

It wasn’t Jan.

“Sorry,” Patton said, “but I’d like to talk to you.”

“Um.” Remus debated hollering for backup. “This isn’t the best time.”

“I know.” Patton stepped forward, wringing his hands. “Please? Just a minute?”

Remus shrugged, catapulted himself over the back of the couch, and bowed. “What can I help you with? You finally decided to murder that really annoying barista?”

“What? No!” Patton frowned. “Remus, murder is wrong!”

“Yeah, yeah, if you’re boring.” Remus waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, what’s the scoop? Haven’t got all night.”

“Right.” Patton nodded. “Um, have you seen Roman?”

Remus choked on air. “Say what now?”

“Roman,” Patton repeated. “Look, stuff—um, kind of got out of control today, so I was wondering—”

“Of course he’s here!” Remus laughed. “He’s a Dark Side now, PatPat! He’s asleep on the couch right now!”

There was a loud thump behind him.

“He’s asleep on the floor!” Remus winced. “Give me a sec?”

Patton nodded. Remus vaulted back over the couch and grabbed Roman’s sleeping form. “C’mon, bro, that cannot be comfortable. I’m putting up with the couch thing ‘cause I’m lazy and like the company, but you’ll put a real crick in your neck down there. Come on, up you get. There we go.” He shoved Roman into the pillows, made sure he was secure, and popped back over the couch. “You were saying?”

Patton’s eyes were wide. “He’s...he’s a Dark Side?”

“Oh, don’t act so pleased about it!” Remus folded his arms. “Thought you were trying to be nicer to us.”

“I am, I just—” Patton glanced at Roman, who was snoring on the couch. “I’m worried about him.”

“’Course you are! Join the club!” Remus grinned. “But he’s alright for now. We’ve got things under control!”

Patton didn’t look convinced. “Can you let me talk to him?” “He’s asleep.”

“When he wakes up?”

“He’ll probably fall right back asleep.”

“Well.” Patton nodded. “I’d like to talk to him at some point. Bring him Upstairs when you can.”

“Sure,” Remus said, gritting his teeth. “Upstairs. Soon.”

“Thanks,” Patton said, looking relieved. Remus noticed the skin around his eyes was red. “Um, tell Janus hi? And tell Roman...tell him I love him, alright?”

“Tell him yourself some other time.”

“I-I did.” Patton bit his lip. “He didn’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Remus clicked his tongue. “Gotcha. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” Patton said again. “That means a lot.”

“Cool,” Remus said. “Are we...done here? ‘Cause I’ve got, like, things to do—”

“Right! Sorry!” Patton laughed. “I’ll get out of your hair!”

“Have fun,” Remus said, strolling to the couch. “Stay alive, don’t turn into a frog with abs again ‘cause that was weird even by my standards, and watch your step ‘cause your left foot is in a puddle of blood.”

Patton squeaked and stumbled backwards. Remus laughed as he tried frantically to wipe off his shoes. Finally he just removed the shoe altogether, pinching it between two fingers and looking at it warily.

“Bye!” Remus said, hopping on top of the couch and waving.

“Bye!” Patton called back. “Oh, and Remus?”

Remus twisted his neck around like an owl. “Yeah?”

Patton didn’t even flinch. “I’m glad Roman has you. Good luck, kiddo.”

“Oh.” Remus tried not to cry. “Uh. Cool. Yeah.”

Patton gave him another smile and walked back down the hall.

Remus sank weakly into the couch, staring at the blank TV. His stomach was doing weird things. It was all bubbly and fizzy and light like he’d swallowed a sparkler. He hated it.

So he turned the TV back on. Roman slept through the night, Remus didn’t sleep at all, and despite all the blood and guts he filled his head with it, he couldn’t avoid the memory of Patton’s soft smile.

Next. Masterlist.

General taglist:

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

Valley of the Dolls taglist:

@marsofthestars55

@cluttered-wonder

@wouldnt-you-like-that

@gotta-love-alejandra

@mihaela-tbg

@tombombadi1

@kaefish

@not-enough-sketchbooks

@marshmallow-fluffy

@confusedhost

@ghostlygalactics

@a-salty-alto

@youthquake-in-the-making

@itriedandimtired

@aromantic-karamatsu

@fear-is-nameless

@somehow-i-got-an-account

@sanders-cider

@astronomical-bagel

@aprincehasgotoslay

@boomboxwizard14

@fancycomedypositivitypeanut

@willowaudreykeyes

@lovestruck-prince

@galaxy-emo12

@shade-romeo

@glassferns

Ask to be included or removed!

107 notes · View notes

silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

21 Things To Do This Summer PJM

y/n has a week left to live and 21 things she wanted to do this summer. Jimin vows to help her do them all before she dies and give her the summer of a lifetime.

jimin x reader - angst, fluff, comedy, non-idol!au

Part of BangtanHQ’s ‘Bangtan Boardwalk’ at the ‘Summertime Sadness’ booth!

Rating: Mature (heavy themes and strong language - read with caution)

Word Count: 16.9k+ (she’s a monster omg)

Warnings: death and illness, discussion of death and illness, jokes about death and illness, brain tumour, discussion of eating disorders, brief mention of murder and crime (y/n jokes that Jimin could be a murderer or a thief), explicit language throughout, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed anything

a/n: here’s the first part guys! if you enjoy it, make sure to check out the other fics in the Summertime Sadness booth, and the other booths on the Bangtan Boardwalk! a huge thank you to @silverlightprincess for proofreading this massive fic, I love you so damn much x

silverlightqueen masterlist

y/n’s Summer Bucket List

21 Things to Do This Summer

1) Make a new friend

2) Dye my hair

3) Go on a road trip

4) Do pavement chalk

5) Get everybody I talk to to sign a shirt

6) Have s’mores at a bonfire

7) Get drunk and skinny dip at the beach

8) Make a wish balloon

9) Go to a fairground

10) Have a picnic

11) Get a tattoo

12) Sleep under the stars

13) Cloud watch

14) Try camping for the first time

15) Have a water fight

16) Make homemade ice cream

17) Have a pyjama day

18) Send a message in a bottle

19) Watch fireworks

20) Go to a drive-in movie

21) Make a photo album of it all

‘Hey! Hey, excuse me! Hey, wait, you dropped something!’ I can hear someone shouting and, despite the tears running down my face, I roll my eyes, wondering why the idiot who dropped something doesn’t stop to get it. ‘Excuse me! Hey, wait!’ I hear, the voice getting closer, before I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I realise; I’m the idiot.

I turn around to see a boy. The first thing I notice is the piece of paper in his hand. The second thing I notice is that I already know him. ‘You dropped thi- oh, y/n! Hey! Long time, no see. Wait, whoa, are you crying?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again as I frustratedly wipe away my tears. ‘No, Jimin, why? Does it look like I am?’ I spit out sarcastically. ‘Okay, I’m going to ignore how rude that was because you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m going to be a good person and return this to you,’ he says, holding out the piece of paper. When I realise what it is, I snatch it from him, tucking it safely into my bag and mentally chiding myself for nearly losing it.

‘Thank you. Sorry for being rude,’ I say before I turn away, continuing to head home. It’s only after a few seconds I realise he’s walking beside me, and I speed up, trying to get away from him. He speeds up too. I slow down. So does he. I stop in my tracks, turning to shoot him an annoyed look, and he merely grins back at me, blinding me with his annoyingly handsome smile.

‘What do you want, Jimin?’ I ask tiredly, deciding not to be rude after he returned my list to me. ‘Well, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, so I thought it’d be nice to catch up. And I also know you, and you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m not going to abandon somebody who I have history with if they’re crying. And, as well as being a very caring and empathetic person, I’m very curious, and so I have to find out why you’re upset,’ he says, and I frown, continuing to walk, even more annoyed when he continues to walk alongside me.

‘It’s none of your business, Jimin,’ I say sharply, hoping he’ll leave me alone. ‘Well, obviously. It’s your business. But the nature of being curious is wanting to know other people’s business,’ he says as though he’s speaking to a little child, and I shoot him another look. ‘You’re practically a stranger.’ ‘I am not! We had classes together through the whole of high school!’ ‘I’m not going to tell you my business,’ I say with a note of finality, hoping he’ll leave the subject. And leave me, for that matter.

‘Would you tell me if you knew me better?’ he asks thoughtfully, and I roll my eyes. ‘Probably, yes.’ ‘Okay. I’m a Libra, I hate spinach and 13 is my lucky number. Oh, and I dance,’ he says, and I literally want to bash my head against a wall. ‘That does not mean I know you better. It just means you overshare.’ ‘Well, you can’t say I’m practically a stranger. Maybe only half a stranger,’ he says, and I let out a humourless laugh at how persistent he is, and he grins, mistaking it for a real laugh.

‘God, what is it with you? What do I have to say to you to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, stopping in the street and putting my hand on my hip. ‘If you tell me why you’re crying. Or, should I say, were? Because, if you haven’t already noticed, you’re no longer crying. Thanks to me,’ he grins, and I actually didn’t notice that I’m not crying anymore.

‘Well, your stupid ass has distracted me,’ I admit, and he laughs, the sound quite… endearing. ‘So? Tell me then. I think I deserve to know. Considering I cheered you up,’ he says, and I roll my eyes yet again. ‘I said that you distracted me. That is not the same as cheering me up. Listen, Jimin, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone. It’s nice to see you again, and I hope everything’s going well in your life, but it is not a good time for me right now. My patience is seriously wearing thin,’ I say, continuing to walk, but he still walks beside me, making me want to throttle him.

‘I think your patience was already thin. And I’m a good citizen, so I would never just let a pretty girl crying pass me by without asking what’s wrong. Especially if I already know her,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me? ‘Jimin. Leave me alone,’ I say seriously, putting emphasis on every word as the anger begins to bubble up in my stomach. ‘Not until you tell me what’s wro-’ ‘I have a week left to live!’ I shout, losing my temper, and his face instantly transforms from teasing and light, to shocked and guilty as tears fill my eyes. That’ll teach him not to pry into other people’s business.

‘Oh. Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, y/n. I wouldn’t have asked if that’s what it was. I thought you were gonna say you’d broken up with your boyfriend or something. I’m so sorry,’ he says, sounding sincere, but I merely roll my eyes, turning and walking away, and hoping he’ll leave me alone now. ‘How’d you know?’ I hear him say from beside me, and I sigh aloud, having to physically restrain myself from hitting this boy with my bag.

‘What?’ ‘How’d you know you’ve only got a week left to live?’ ‘I went to the doctor a couple days ago, for chronic headaches. They did some scans, and then I got a call this morning to go to the hospital. They told me I have a brain tumour. Terminal. They said I’m lucky if I have another ten days,’ I say tiredly, a couple tears falling down my face which I wipe away hastily, and he takes a deep breath. ‘Wow. I’m really sorry. That’s… terrible. Is there no treatment?’ he asks, and I sigh again. ‘Yes, but they said it’s unlikely to cure it, it’ll only delay my inevitable death, and it’s… painful. I’d rather die sooner than later if later’s gonna hurt. Or it could get rid of the tumour, but it could ruin my future quality of life; I might not be able to speak the same, walk the same, even think the same. So I’ve refused treatment,’ I explain, not sure why I’m opening up to him, and he nods. ‘Reasonable. I’d do the same.’

We walk in silence for a few moments before Jimin starts speaking again. ‘So. Where are you going now?’ he asks, and I side-eye him. ‘Home.’ ‘To your boyfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one.’ ‘Girlfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one of those either.’ ‘Spouse?’ ‘I’m single.’ ‘Parents?’ ‘Don’t live with them.’ ‘Siblings?’ ‘Only child.’ ‘Friends.’ ‘Don’t have any.’ ‘What about all your friends from school?’ ‘I matured; they didn’t.’ ‘Oop. Roommates?’ ‘Nope.’

‘You live alone?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘I have a dog. If that counts,’ I say, and he grins. ‘Of course it counts. What breed?’ ‘A miniature husky. His name’s Coco, and he’s literally tiny,’ I say, a small smile coming onto my face at the thought of my baby, and he holds a hand to his heart. ‘That’s a cute name. My friend, Taehyung – you remember him, right? – he has a Pomeranian who’s tiny, called Yeontan. Tannie for short. Tan for even shorter,’ he says, and I smile despite myself.

‘That’s so adorable. Maybe Taehyung can have Coco. He’ll need a new owner,’ I say jokingly, and Jimin winces. ‘Don’t you feel like it’s too early to make jokes?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘It’s never too early. By the time it’s okay, I’ll be dead,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a strangled laugh, as though he wants to hold it back but can’t.

I still feel a little shocked, but mainly numb. I went through the stages of dealing with bad news whilst I was still at the hospital. I started by denying it, and telling the doctor that something in the scan must be wrong. And then I got super angry that it hadn’t already been identified and screamed a little at her (it was my own fault, though – I’m the one that didn’t go to the doctor until it’d been months of me having headaches). Then I tried to bargain with the doctor, and ask if there were any treatments that don’t hurt or wouldn’t cause me irreversible damage, or if there was any chance I would survive any longer. And then I cried. A lot. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I got through a box and a half of tissues. I was at the hospital for three and a half hours, and spent two hours of that crying. And I was still crying when I left.

I guess I’m now in the acceptance stage. I didn’t know it was possible to move through the stages that quickly.

‘What was that paper you dropped? Your diagnosis?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘All my paperwork was in a folder, loads of it. I threw it in the recycling at the hospital.’ ‘Glad to see you’re looking after the planet for those of us that’ll still be here when you’re gone,’ Jimin says, almost tentatively, and I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. ‘That was funny,’ I admit, and he grins, relaxing. ‘I do try.’ ‘Yes, you’re very trying.’

‘Anyway. What was that paper then?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Do you, like, make it your life’s mission to pry?’ ‘No, it comes naturally. A lot of girls receive it well, actually. They like it when someone good-looking seems interested in their life,’ he smirks, and I shoot him a disgusted look. ‘Big-headed much?’ ‘Just truthful.’ ‘Well, I’m not receiving it well. Clearly.’ ‘I guess you’re not like other girls then,’ he muses, and I shoot him another look. ‘Please don’t tell me you think that’s a compliment, because it isn’t,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Let me rephrase it. You’re not like the girls that I’m used to being around.’ ‘You’re probably used to being around girls just as pretty as you.’ ‘You think I’m pretty?’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘Well, you’re right. But it’s okay, because you’re not just as pretty as me. You’re prettier.

But anyway. Are you gonna tell me what that paper is?’ he asks again, skimming over the fact he’s now called me pretty for the second time, and I sigh, giving up. ‘It’s a summer bucket list. I saw this girl reading a book with the same name in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery the other day, and it inspired me to write one,’ I admit, and he grins. ‘That’s cute,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, looking away from him. ‘Well, I’m gonna die before I get to do any of them anyway,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that,’ he says, voice small, and I nod.

We continue walking, his shoulder a few inches from mine, and I distract myself from the slightly awkward silence by looking at our surroundings instead. It’s a lovely summer’s day today; warm and sunny with the most beautiful breeze. Families are out in force despite it being a weekday, little boys running around shirtless and barefoot, and little girls in cute summer outfits. Chill ‘vibey’ music floats through open car windows, couples share ice cream at the café we walk past, birds chirp in the trees that line the road. It’s such a beautiful day. I even shaved my legs and put on a cute floral playsuit. So much for sunbathing in the garden.

‘Hang on,’ Jimin says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. ‘What?’ ‘Who says you can’t tick off your bucket list?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to die, Jimin,’ I say slowly, and he lets out a frustrated noise. ‘You have a week. That’s more than enough time for us to do it all,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Us? Who said anything about us?’ ‘I’ve taken it upon myself to help you tick off this bucket list.’ ‘And I’m taking it upon myself to refuse your help.’

‘Um, rude. Why?’ he asks with an amused glint in his eye, and my eyes widen even more. ‘Are you kidding? We barely know each other. The closest we ever were was when Nayeon and Jungkook dated and we all planned at their joint birthday party, and when we got paired together for that History project. That was years ago; I have no idea what kind of person you are now. You could be a murderer,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to die anyway,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Okay, I’m allowed to joke about it; you are not. You could be a thief.’ ‘Again: you’re going to die anyway. But, I’m not a thief, so don’t worry. You’ll still have all of your belongings to put in your will.’ ‘Excuse me. Stop joking about my imminent death.’

‘Listen, I want to help you. Let me help you tick off your bucket list,’ he pleads, and I’m surprised at myself for actually considering it. I’m going to die anyway – I might as well spend my last few days having fun. Even if it is with an unbearably curious person from my past. ‘Please let me help you. I’ll consider my life a waste if you don’t,’ he says dramatically, dropping to the floor, making enough of a scene for people to look over at us. ‘Jimin, get up,’ I hiss, and he scrabbles at my shoes. ‘I’ll die if you don’t let me. Please, y/n, please let me,’ he wails, and I look around embarrassedly, feeling lots of stares on us.

‘If I say yes, will you stop making such an embarrassment of yourself?’ I hiss, and he looks up at me with wide eyes and a grin, nodding. ‘Then, yes. I’ll let you help me,’ I sigh, and he jumps up from the floor, a wide smile spreading across his lips. ‘Okay, let’s see what I’m working with,’ he says, and I look at him blankly. ‘Let me see the list,’ he prompts, and I pull the list out of my bag, handing it to him tiredly.

‘Okay, let’s see. ‘y/n’s Summer Bucket List’. Cute. ‘21 Things to Do This Summer’. Only 21 things? This’ll be easier than I thought,’ he says, before his eyes scan down the rest of the list. As he reads it, I look him up and down, inspecting him. He’s changed since school. A lot. He’s now around 5’8’’, with clear golden skin, chocolate brown eyes, plump pink lips and ink black hair swept back from his forehead (must be dyed because I remember his hair being a lot lighter than this). He’s dressed in a pair of grey shorts and a plain white t-shirt, a loose grey jacket over the top of it with pair of sunglasses at the back of his head. ‘Okay, well, you’ve already achieved number one. Making a new friend,’ he says, pointing at himself with a grin, and I roll my eyes exasperatedly. ‘I don’t know you well enough to call you a friend,’ I say, and he sighs.

‘That’s the best bit. You barely know me, and I barely know you. We can be whoever we want to be. All I know about you is the vague stuff from school, and I know that you had high hopes for this summer, but you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. And you’ve only got a week left. And that you’re grumpy and get annoyed easily and are not receptive to strangers. And you’ve got a dog called Coco. All you know about me is the vague stuff from school, and that I’m a Libra, I hate spinach, my lucky number is 13, and that I dance.’ ‘And that you’re annoyingly curious and persistent and stubborn and think a lot of yourself.’ ‘Exactly! That’s literally nothing in the grand scheme of things.’

‘So you think we should lie to each other about what and who we are?’ ‘No, no, you’re misunderstanding. Haven’t you ever wanted to be like someone, but you’re too scared to, or you’re too stuck in your ways?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod. ‘This is your chance. We barely know each other, and we have no more than a week together. You get to be whatever you want to be, y/n, and we’ll tick off everything on your list. We can be like those reckless teenagers from all those stupid films. What have you got to lose?’ he says gently, his eyes big and his words convincing.

‘We can’t do all this in a week,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Can’t is not in my vocabulary. And neither are cannot, unable to, won’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, mustn’t-’ ‘Who in this century says mustn’t?’ ‘We can easily do all this in a week. Even less than a week,’ he says, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Ambitious, but I don’t think so.’ ‘And that’s not in my vocabulary either. But… give me four days,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Four days?’ ‘Easy. I could probably do it in three, but I’ll say an extra day just to be sure,’ he says confidently, and I roll my eyes.

‘Haven’t you, like… got a job? Or, like, studying? You can’t just devote four days – or more – to helping me tick off my bucket list,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Why are you so sensible? Trust me, there’s nothing I have to do,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. ‘Fine,’ he sighs, ‘I work with my friend – Hoseok, remember him? – at his dance studio, but he’ll let me have some time off,’ he says, and I’m still slightly sceptical, but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Why do you want to help me? Haven’t you got better things to do with your life?’ I ask him, voice small, and he smiles, seemingly endeared. ‘There’s something tragic about you, y/n. You went to the hospital alone to be told that you’re going to die. And you don’t live with anybody. And you have a list of things you wanted to do this summer, but won’t be able to do them without help. My help. Of all the places you dropped that paper, you dropped it in front of me. And of all the people that could’ve picked it up, it was me. We haven’t seen each other since we left school, and even though the odds of us seeing each other again were slim, look where we are. Fate works in mysterious ways, y/n. Let me help you. For old time’s sake,’ he says softly, and I feel that little voice in my head whisper, ‘why not?’

‘You know what? Let’s do it,’ I say, throwing caution to the wind, and feeling a little bit of excitement bloom in my chest. ‘Wait, really?’ he asks, surprise on his face but also… hope in his eyes. ‘Yeah. Let’s do it,’ I say with a small smile, the excitement in my chest flooding out into my veins. He jumps up and pumps the air, whooping and shouting in celebration, and I don’t even feel embarrassed of him, finding it quite endearing.

‘Okay, let’s get started. It’s 12.32, so we have until 12.32 on Sunday to tick the whole list off. Let me look at the list again. Um… well, number one’s done. And the last one, the photo album, we can buy a photo album now and take pictures as we go along to put in it,’ he says, thinking aloud, before he turns abruptly. I look around in alarm before rushing after him. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘There’s a supermarket just down the road that we can get a photo album from. Oh, and we can buy an instant camera too! Cuter pictures,’ he says, and I roll my eyes with a small smile on my face.

‘We should just scrap that one. It’s not like I’ll be able to look back at it, so what’s the point?’ I say, and he frowns at me. ‘Well, we could say that about all of this, but it’s about making your last few days exciting and fun and an experience of a lifetime. So don’t say ‘what’s the point’, because there is a point,’ he says firmly, and I keep my mouth shut, unable to stop a small smile from appearing on my face.

We enter the supermarket, the change in temperature making me shiver in my skimpy outfit, and Jimin looks over at me. ‘Oh, my God, my mum would kill me if she knew how ungentlemanly I was being right now,’ he says, taking his jacket off. ‘No, Jimin, it’s fine,’ I try to stop him, but he’s already handing it to me and taking my little backpack from my hand. ‘Let me. Have you ever been treated like a princess?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly. ‘Then take the jacket and let me hold your bag. It’s the least you deserve,’ he says, and I smile to myself as I shrug on the jacket without further complaint, watching amusedly when he puts on the backpack.

He leads us towards the electronics, the back corner of the store, and makes a beeline for the camera section. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘It’s hard to choose a favourite,’ I say quietly, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Okay. What’s your favourite colour out of these?’ he says, motioning to the instant cameras, and I think before answering, ‘that one. The pastel blue.’ ‘Ah, nice choice,’ he says, picking one of the boxes up and heading over towards where the photo albums are, and I follow after him. ‘This one’s perfect!’ he says, pointing at one the same colour as the camera, and I nod, Jimin picking it up with a grin.

‘Right, let’s just double-check this list and see if there’s anything else we need,’ he says, getting the list out of his pocket again. ‘Hmm, we could buy some chalk to do number 4. And we can buy a shirt and markers to do number 5,’ he says, thinking aloud again, walking ridiculously quickly to where the art and school supplies section where the chalk and markers will be, before rushing off towards the clothes section, having me running around behind him.

Once we’ve picked out a plain white button-up dress shirt, we head over to the counter, Jimin chatting amicably with the cashier as I hang behind, surprised and slightly envious of his ability to speak to strangers like they’re close friends. ‘Would you mind doing us a favour?’ Jimin asks, and the cashier nods instantly, scanning through the shirt. ‘Can you sign this shirt? Just, like, with your name and your… job, I guess. We, um, we’re doing a project,’ Jimin says with a grin at me, and the cashier nods again, looking a little confused as Jimin hands her a marker from the pack. She writes ‘Soojung –supermarket cashier’, before handing Jimin the marker back with a grin.

‘Have you got film for this camera?’ Soojung asks as she scans it through, and Jimin looks to me, both of us exchanging an embarrassed glance. ‘No, but it’d probably help,’ I say frankly, and Jimin nods with a laugh. ‘I’ll go and grab them for you,’ the cashier says, getting up and running off. ‘We could’ve gone and gotten it, she didn’t have to,’ I say, and Jimin grins. ‘Perks of being a nice person – people do things for you that they don’t have to,’ he says pointedly, and I scowl at him. ‘Was that a dig?’ I demand, and he grins even wider. ‘Not at all, my dear, y/n,’ he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I roll my eyes in response, the cashier reappearing with a couple boxes of film.

‘Do you want just the one or…?’ ‘We’ll take both,’ Jimin replies, the cashier nodding, scanning them through. ‘Gonna make some summer memories?’ the cashier asks, and we exchange another glance, a small smile playing at Jimin’s lips when he replies, ‘something like that, yeah.’

‘Okay, let’s have another look at this list,’ Jimin says once we’re seated in the back corner of his favourite coffee shop, pulling the list out of his pocket and reading it through. ‘So you’ve already made a new friend. Me. We’ve got the chalk for number four, and a shirt and markers for number 5. I should sign the shirt, right?’ he says, and I nod, thinking this’ll be easier if I let him do what he wants, and he grins, writing ‘Park Jimin - y/n’s fabulously beautiful assistant and school friend’. I raise an eyebrow, and he raises one back, challenging me to say something, but I just shake my head with a small smile.

‘Let’s look at the rest of them. Number 2, dyeing your hair… I have a trillion boxes of dye at home, that’s easy. Number 3, go on a road trip… we can do that, and tick off the others as we do it. Number 4, pavement chalk, we can do with Taehyung on his and Namjoon’s driveway because Tae’s good at art and their driveway is huge. Number 5, get everyone to sign a shirt, won’t be difficult, we just have to remember. Number 6, have s’mores at a bonfire… let me think about that one. Number 7,’ he begins, before looking up at me with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, a little embarrassed.

‘Don’t laugh. It’s something that so many people have done, and I never have,’ I say defensively, his mouth falling open. ‘You’ve never gotten drunk?’ he asks jokingly, and I laugh despite myself. ‘No, idiot, I’ve never skinny-dipped, but I’m pretty sure I’ll only have the courage to do it if I’m drunk,’ I say, and he nods, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘You can leave me with that one too, I’ll think about it.

Number 8, make a wish balloon, that’s easy. Number 9, go to a fairground… that may be a bit more difficult, but I’ll get it done. Number 10, have a picnic, easy. Number 11, get a tattoo, ooh, that’s fun. I know the perfect place. Number 12, go to a drive-in movie… difficult, but I’ll find a way. Number 13, cloud watch, super easy. Number 14, try camping for the first time, that’s easy too. Number 15, water fight… that’s easy as well. Number 16, homemade ice cream, easy. Number 17, pyjama day, even easier. Number 18, send a message in a bottle… should be easy. Number 19, run through sprinklers… shouldn’t be too hard. I hope. Number 20, stargaze and fall asleep under the stars, should be easy enough. And Number 21 is well under way already,’ he says with a grin.

The photo album already has two pictures in it; one of Jimin and I smiling and squinting in the sunlight, and one of us with the cashier, who looks a little awkward, but it’s fine. Nothing will be more awkward than telling her we’re trying to tick off a summer bucket list within a few days because I’m going to die soon. I was right – Jimin has a serious habit of oversharing.

‘Hi, welcome to the Sweetbrew. I’m Yoongi, I’ll be your server. What can I get you?’ a barista says, sounding like he wants to die, his entire face hidden behind a menu. ‘Yoongi,’ Jimin says, snatching the menu to reveal a boy with porcelain skin, mint green hair and brown eyes. I recognise him as one of Jimin’s best friends from school – Min Yoongi.

He was always one of the quieter members of their friendship group. Not shy, but more calm and laidback – it was easy to seem like that when surrounded by his friends, every single one of them having been big and loud characters. But he was just like the rest of them in that he was definitely popular, and desirable too. Everyone saw him as this sensitive and kind boy, his passion for music reinforcing that even more, and there was always somebody that was crushing on him, his look unique and intriguing. And he’s only gotten better looking since school, more mature and manly, yet still with the soft and delicate features that he had back then.

‘Oh, Jimin. Hey,’ he says, sounding a little more lively, before he turns to look at me. ‘Ah, y/n, right? From school?’ he asks, and I’m surprised at how quick he recognises me. ‘I told the group chat about you. Sorry,’ Jimin says, and my eyes widen, Yoongi sitting in the spare seat at our table. ‘What? When?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘While you got distracted playing with that puppy outside the supermarket,’ he says, and I frown.

‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘No. Well, nearly everything. I told them what we’re doing, but I didn’t say why. Obviously,’ he says, and I fix him with a glare. ‘Oh, it’s okay to tell a random shop worker, but not your best friends?’ I ask, Yoongi shooting him a look too. ‘Not cool, Park,’ Yoongi says, and Jimin scowls. ‘I already apologised for that. I have a serious problem with oversharing,’ he says, Yoongi and I exchanging a glance as we chorus, ‘we know.’

‘Why are you doing this? If you don’t mind me asking,’ Yoongi asks, curiosity in his eyes, and I sigh. ‘I’ve got a brain tumour, so I’ve got, like, a week left to live,’ I say bluntly, Yoongi’s mouth falling open. ‘Oh. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, y/n, that’s awful,’ he says, sounding a little awkward, but I wave him off. ‘It’s fine. I’ve already gone through the five stages, and am now sufficiently distracted from my impending demise by your stupid friend,’ I say, Jimin scowling.

‘Well, at least he can make up for being stupid by helping you tick off your list. Anyway, you guys want drinks or you just chilling?’ Yoongi asks, and Jimin looks to me to answer. ‘I could do with a drink.’ ‘What would you like, y/n?’ Yoongi asks, and I hesitate, not quite sure. ‘Um… I don’t know. Jimin, what do you have?’ I ask, but Jimin already looks like he’s cooking up a scheme. ‘What fruits do you like, y/n?’ he asks me, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘berries, pineapple, mango, kiwi, peach. I like everything.’

Yoongi and Jimin exchange a glance, talking without words, and Yoongi nods before disappearing into the back. ‘Anyway. We need to get Yoongi to sign your shirt before we leave, remember. And then… we can go to Tae and Joon’s to do pavement chalk. And we should be able to make the ice cream at Tae and Joon’s too. Then we can go and pick up stuff from our houses before we go on the road trip,’ he says, and I hold up a hand.

‘We’re gonna have to go to mine before we go to Taehyung and Namjoon’s, because I’ve left Coco with the neighbour. I told her I’d only be a couple hours and it’s already been… nearly four,’ I say, Jimin nodding, and I can practically see his mind working. ‘We can get Coco and take her to theirs, and she can play with Tan while we get on with ticking things off. And then we can take her on the road trip with us the next day,’ he says, and I nod, getting more and more excited with his ideas.

‘Are you gonna drop me home tonight and then pick me up in the morning?’ I ask, and he thinks. ‘How about… we sleep over at Tae and Joon’s? You can get all your stuff when we go now, and then we’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning,’ he suggests, but I’m sceptical. ‘Won’t they mind?’ I ask, and he shakes his head instantly. ‘They’re so chill about this kinda stuff. They really won’t mind. We all sleep over at their house all the time because it’s the biggest. There’s more than enough space,’ he says, obviously trying hard to convince me, and I nod. There’s no point worrying about intruding at their house when their best friend seems to be the most intruding person in history.

Jimin looks back down at the list, thinking hard, and I smile to myself. It’s sweet that he’s putting so much effort in to try and tick off this list, even though we barely know each other. The most we ever said to each other at school would’ve been ‘d’you have a spare pen?’ or ‘can you pass me the bottle opener?’

Yoongi reappears after a couple minutes with two plastic cups in his hands, the drinks within them vibrant pink and orange. ‘I call this one… ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’. I put in the syrups for all the fruits you named and a lot of sugar and ice,’ he says, putting them down with a flourish, my heart warming as I smile at him. ‘Thank you. It looks amazing,’ I say, taking a sip, my eyes widening as the flavours explode in my mouth. ‘And it tastes amazing too,’ Jimin says, having already taken a (large) gulp.

‘I’m not the best barista here for nothing. But, y/n, you gotta take the credit. It is named after you,’ Yoongi says, and I roll my eyes with a smile. ‘Get out of here. But, for real, it tastes great, Yoongi,’ I say, the boy giving me the cutest gummy smile, and then I notice Jimin fiddling around with the camera. ‘What are you trying to do?’ I ask, stifling a laugh, and he sighs defeatedly. ‘Take a picture of us with your drink,’ he says, and I hold back a smile, ‘get someone else to take it.’

He ropes in an innocent woman sat beside us with her friend, and she takes a while to focus the camera on us and get the three of us in frame, but when the photo develops, it’s pretty good. ‘Perfect. Right, let’s head back and get Coco,’ Jimin says, and I hold out a hand. ‘Wait. Yoongi, will you sign this shirt?’ I ask, and he looks a little confused. Nevertheless, he signs it as ‘Min Yoongi – creator of the iconic ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’ drink and y/n’s school friend’.

Jimin looks thoughtful as we rise from our seats, and I side-eye him. I’ve noticed that a little bit of panic appears in my chest when I see that look on his face. ‘Yoongi, you busy tonight?’ Jimin asks, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘I’m never busy,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘When d’you get off work?’ ‘4.’ ‘Come ‘round to Tae and Joon’s. I got an idea,’ Jimin says cryptically, wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I give him a look.

‘Okay. See you guys later then,’ Yoongi says before turning to head into the back. ‘Wait. Don’t we need to pay?’ I ask, and Yoongi smiles at me, a little sadness behind the expression. ‘It’s on the house. I might even speak to the manager about getting this drink put on the menu,’ he says, and I smile at him, trying to ignore the tears in my eyes. ‘Good idea. Thanks, Yoongi. See you later,’ I say, Jimin bidding him goodbye as he disappears into the back. ‘Okay,’ Jimin turns to look at me with a grin, ‘let’s go get Coco.’

‘Oh, y/n. Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Choi says for the eleventh time, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, and I smile sadly. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Choi,’ I say, not sure what else to say, when Jimin appears at my elbow. ‘Everything’s in the car now, so whenever you’re ready,’ he says with a grin as he hands me the house keys, Mrs Choi looking him up and down. ‘Oh, Mrs Choi, this is Jimin… an old school friend. Jimin, this is Mrs Choi, my lovely neighbour who my dog likes more than me,’ I say, Mrs Choi laughing as Jimin shakes her hand, bowing his head politely.

‘Oh, don’t be silly, y/n, Coco adores you. He cries whenever you leave him with me,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And then cries when I come to pick him up,’ I point out, and she waves a hand dismissively. ‘It’s because I feed him so much,’ Mrs Choi says, and I laugh, Coco appearing in the doorway behind her. He comes bounding up to me, my heart filling as he rests his front paws on my leg, and I bend down to pick him up. ‘Hi, baby. You okay?’ I say, showering him in kisses, and ducking away when he tries to lick my face. I hate when he licks my makeup off.

‘That is the cutest dog ever,’ Jimin says, and I hold Coco out to him. He instantly takes him into his arms, and giggles when he licks the tip of his nose. Coco leaps out of his arms, and he panics, trying to catch him, but he does it all the time, bounding around the front garden. ‘Here,’ Mrs Choi says, handing Jimin the little tennis ball she keeps beside the door for when she plays with Coco. He instantly throws it and Coco bounds after it, running straight back to him with it in his mouth.

‘He’s handsome,’ Mrs Choi observes quietly so Jimin can’t hear, and I roll my eyes. ‘And doesn’t he know it?’ ‘Are you… and him…?’ ‘Oh, God, no. I… there’s a list of things I wanted to do this summer, and he’s helping me get through it all before I...’ I trail off, and she nods, blinking furiously, obviously trying not to cry. ‘That’s lovely of him. Make sure you take lots of pictures to show me,’ she says, and I grin. ‘We’ve already started a photo album. Actually. Hold on,’ I say, getting the camera out of my bag as Jimin bends down to pet Coco who jumps on him, the unexpectedness making him fall onto his back. I get a really cute picture of him lying down, laughing, with Coco on his chest, trying to lick his face.

‘Lovely. Well, I’ll let you get to it. But make sure you come to see me again before… well, when you get back from ticking off your list,’ she says, pulling me into a hug, and I screw my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to cry in front of her. She’s been like a mother figure to me since I moved out of my parents’ house, always coming over to check if I’m okay, bringing me food and inviting me around at least once a week, looking after Coco whenever I need her to. I’m heartbroken that I’m going to be leaving a hole in her life when I go.

‘I will. See you later, Mrs Choi,’ I say, pulling away from her, and we exchange a sad smile. ‘See you, y/n. Be careful, dear, and have fun,’ she says sadly, pressing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last long look before she disappears into her house. I don’t blame her; I’d be struggling to deal if I were in her position.

‘Okay. Let’s go,’ I call to Jimin who’s sat cross legged on the floor, Coco running towards him with the ball and dropping it beside him. Jimin’s standing when I reach them and he hands me the ball, Coco’s eyes never leaving it. ‘Do you want Coco to sit on my lap or do you mind him sitting in the back?’ I ask, as we walk towards his car, and he shrugs. ‘He can sit in the back, I don’t mind,’ he says, and I pull open the back door, putting the ball in there, and Coco leaps in without hesitation. I shut the door behind him before climbing into the passenger seat, Jimin already sat in the driver’s seat.

‘You ready?’ he says excitedly as he starts the engine, putting on the radio which is currently playing Justin Bieber. ‘Yep. Let’s do this,’ I say, sneaking one last look at Mrs Choi’s house. And then it hits me. This might be the last time I look at her house. I might die before I get to see her again.

My body goes cold all over, tears prickling in my eyes as my throat constricts painfully. It just repeats in my head again and again; ‘I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.’

Coco realises I’m upset before Jimin does, and he begins to whine from the backseat. ‘Is Coco okay?’ I hear Jimin’s voice distantly, and when I don’t reply, I hear him coo, ‘Coco? What’s the matter, boy?’ And then he looks over at me.

‘Oh,’ he breathes out, instantly pulling over. ‘y/n,’ he says gently, reaching out to take one of my hands, and the second his skin touches mine, I burst into tears. He shuffles as close as he can, the gearstick separating us, and he leans across the gap, pulling me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder, letting him hold me as the tears come in an endless flood, whispering the words ‘I’m going to die’ every few seconds.

Once I’ve calmed down (and feel ridiculously uncomfortable in the position we’re in), I gently push away from him, and he releases me, still holding one of my hands in his. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper, and he frowns. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to be upset. Like, you’re going to die, for God’s sake; you can cry about that. Cry as much as you want, you’re entitled to do so. Just… tell me when you’re upset so I don’t say something stupid,’ he says ruefully, a small laugh falling from my lips, and he grins.

‘It’s just… it’s not fair. There’s still so much I wanted to do with my life. I’ll never work in my dream job. There are so many beautiful places I’ll never get to see. Tokyo, Mexico, Portugal, Bali, Dubai, India, Australia, Brazil, Hawaii, The Caribbean, The Maldives, Greece, Morocco. So many things that everyone does that I’ll never get a chance to do. Fall in love, get married, have a family. I’ve never even been in a relationship,’ I say with a harsh laugh, and Jimin sighs.

‘You’re right, y/n. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all. You deserve so much more, so much better. You’ve been robbed of the rest of your life. You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry,’ he says so simply, and it feels as though his words just… make it all okay. It’s hard to explain, but they feel like a consolation. They make me feel like the way I’m feeling isn’t me just being irrational, or a spoiled brat, because I know that it could be worse. They make me feel like I’m justified in my thoughts and feelings. And that’s what I need right now.

‘Thank you,’ I say, sniffling a little, and he smiles at me. ‘You’re most welcome, y/n. Now. Are you ready to go to Tae and Joon’s or would you like to cry for a little longer?’ he says teasingly, and I laugh, shoving him gently. ‘Drive, you moron,’ I say, and he gasps as he starts up the car, a small grin playing at his lips as he says, ‘Moron? I’m about to give you the summer of a lifetime in four days. Do you think a moron could do that? No, of course they couldn’t.’

‘y/n! Oh, my God, girl, it’s so good to see you!’ Taehyung exclaims the second I open the car door, running over from the front door and throwing his arms around me. I was always a little closer to Taehyung than I was to Jimin, because we had quite a few classes together. I hug him back, my face practically smushed against his chest as he holds me in a bone-crushingly tight embrace.

‘Hey, Taehyung. How have you been?’ I ask as he releases me, his hands still on my shoulders. He holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, before an appreciative grin spreads across his face. I hold back from pointing out that he still has the same adorable boxy smile from high school. And then I register his bright blue hair, stifling a laugh at how eccentric he still is. ‘I’m good. You got hot, y/n!’ he exclaims, and I feel blood rushing to my face from embarrassment.

‘Thank you. But look at you! You’re so handsome, Tae,’ I grin, and he grins back with a little wink. Everything about him is just as appealing as back then. Tae was definitely a ladies’ man… and a men’s man too. He was loud and bubbly, his personality easily grabbing the attention of everyone in any room, and his laugh was crazy infectious. He was the perfect mix of cute and hot, and he’s only gotten hotter, with his manly features and strong build.

‘Thank you, babe. Come in, come in. Jimin, do you need a hand with the bags? No? Good,’ he says, not even waiting for an answer from Jimin before he drags me up towards the house, the other boy muttering behind us as I hear him pop the boot open.

The second I step over the threshold, a ball of fluff appears and begins yapping at me from behind Tae, and he bends down to pick it up. ‘y/n, this is my beloved son, Kim Yeontan, or Tannie for short,’ Taehyung says, introducing me to his little Pomeranian, who has now quietened down and is staring at me with a curious look in his eyes. ‘Hi, Tannie,’ I coo at the dog, reaching a hand out to stroke his head, and he lets me with a contented little growl low in his throat.

‘Ah, he likes you! He rarely likes strangers. Little coward,’ Taehyung says affectionately as I slip off my shoes, Jimin appearing in the doorway with my bag (a suitcase, actually – yes, I might be dying soon, but I wanna make sure I look good when I do, so I had to bring plenty of clothes) in one hand, and Coco in the other. And then the barking match starts.

Coco and Yeontan incessantly yowl and woof at each other, both of them scrabbling to get out of Jimin and Tae’s arms. And then Taehyung puts Tan down, and Tan instantly shuts up, hiding behind his dad’s legs. Jimin does the same, putting Coco down, and he tries to get Jimin to pick him up again. ‘They’re both cowards,’ I mutter with a smile as Taehyung leads us down the front hallway, Yeontan trotting along beside him as I follow behind, Coco hanging back with Jimin as he takes his shoes off and shuts the front door.

We enter the kitchen, and if it wasn’t clear from the outside of the house, it’s made clear now; this house is beautiful, and expensive. It’s roomy and spacious, modern and clean, with classy and tasteful furnishings. ‘I love your house, Tae. It’s so nice, and I love the way you’ve decorated,’ I say, and he beams at me, eyes nearly disappearing behind their lids. ‘Thank you, y/n. It was all me – Joon has no sense of decoration,’ he says, sounding genuinely touched, and Jimin raises an eyebrow at me as he walks in. ‘Look at you sucking up,’ he mutters with a grin, and Tae and I both shoot him dirty looks.

‘You want something to drink, y/n? Before we get started on the chalk?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m okay, thank you,’ I reply, but he’s already distracted with the list that Jimin’s put in front of him on the marble island counter. ‘Ooh, so this is the list? Let’s have a look,’ he says before reading it intently. Once he’s done, his eyes flit up to me, before flitting back down to the page.

‘Don’t take offence to this, okay?’ he says, and I already brace myself for a mocking remark. ‘Some of this stuff is, like, basic teenager stuff. How have you not done all of this already?’ he asks softly, and I feel a little embarrassed. ‘I don’t know, I just… after high school, I drifted from the girls – I still talk to them every now and then, but it isn’t the same – and I didn’t really… make any new friends to do these kind of things with. I have my work friends, but the most I’ve ever done with them is a night out. And in high school, I guess I was… too cautious and too scared to join in on these kind of things. We went on a group trip to the beach – I was the only one that didn’t skinny dip. The end of school prank was dyeing our hair in the school toilets – I was the one of the only ones that didn’t dye mine. Everyone planned a camping trip together – I didn’t go. I was, and still am, a little… uptight, I guess? I wanted to change that this summer, but…’ I trail off, and Tae surprises me by nodding sadly.

‘Jimin told me on the phone while you were talking to your neighbour,’ he says, and I shoot Jimin a look. ‘I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to keep telling people!’ he exclaims defensively, and I nod with a roll of my eyes, thinking his reasoning is fair enough. ‘I’m really sorry, y/n. There’s not much someone can say in these kind of situations, but I just want you to know that I’m so sorry, and that it’s so unfair,’ he says gently, and I smile sadly. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘Now, anyway. Shall we get on with this list? I know Jimin said that we can start with chalk and ice cream, but…’ Tae says, voice a lot more cheerful as he sidles over to me, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger, ‘I think we should dye your hair first.’ ‘Dye it?’ I say, lifting a hand to pat my hair protectively, having not yet worked up the courage. ‘Yep. I have trillions of box dyes upstairs – you can choose any colour you like,’ he says, and I look over at Jimin who grins, nodding encouragingly.

A few minutes later, I’m sat on a stool in Tae’s lavish bathroom, a towel resting over my shoulders as I inspect the boxes laid out on the counter in front of me, Taehyung and Jimin stood behind me as Coco and Tan play in Tae’s bedroom (they seem to be the best of friends now). ‘I’m thinking I shouldn’t go too wild considering it’ll be my funeral in a little while and my parents will probably want an open casket,’ I say musingly, Taehyung choking on air as Jimin holds back a smile.

‘Good idea. Maybe… highlights or ombre rather than the whole head?’ Jimin suggests, and I nod, feeling a little more at ease at not having to take the full plunge. ‘Okay… what colour then?’ Taehyung asks, and I look at all the colours. ‘Um… I don’t know. It’s really difficult,’ I say a little timidly, both boys nodding reassuringly, trying to give me a little more confident. ‘You’re right, it is difficult. How about… two platinum blonde streaks at the front of your hair?’ Taehyung asks, and I nearly choke.

‘Blonde streaks… like an e-girl?’ I ask, and Tae laughs, nodding. ‘It’s on trend, and I think you’ll be able to pull it off really well,’ Tae says thoughtfully, and whilst I’m still not convinced, Jimin nods excitedly. ‘Yes, that’d look amazing! Go on, y/n, you should!’ Jimin urges, eyes locked with mine in the mirror, and I sigh before nodding with a small smile. ‘Why not? Go for it,’ I say, the two of them exchanging a grin.

Before I know it, the front sections of my hair have been bleached and foiled, and a timer has been set for 20 minutes. And Jimin is contemplating dyeing his own hair. ‘I mean, I’ve had black for so long, and I need a change, right? I’ve been wanting to go bright for a while. But do I go a natural bright, or a colourful bright?’ he muses, Tae fake yawning at him in the mirror, coaxing a giggle from me, but Jimin doesn’t notice, too busy inspecting the dye boxes.

‘If it helps, I liked it when you went blond at school. You look nice blond,’ I say, and he looks at me in the mirror with a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘Bright blond, or platinum blond, or dirty blond?’ he asks, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘bright blond.’ ‘Okay, let’s go bright blond then,’ he says instantly, disappearing off to get a towel from Tae’s airing cupboard.

‘That was… interesting,’ Tae says with a smirk at me in the mirror, and I look back at him confusedly. ‘How so?’ ‘He never takes anyone’s advice when it comes to his hair dye. And he never decides that quick,’ he says, his smirk even wider, but Jimin reappears before I can reply. I try to shake off Tae’s words as Jimin looks for the right box dye.

‘Maybe I should dye my hair too,’ Tae says, looking at his blue locks in the mirror. ‘I like you with brown hair, Tae. I’d like it if you had brown hair at my funeral,’ I say, and his eyes widen slightly at the mention of it again. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. We should all have natural colours for the funeral, out of respect,’ Jimin says, and I frown. ‘No, I don’t mind if you guys had the craziest colours ever. I just think you look so… classically handsome with brown hair, Tae,’ I say, and he looks smug at my compliment. ‘Okay,’ he grins, reaching for a box dye, Jimin and I exchanging a look in the mirror as he says, ‘guess I’m going brown then.’

‘When did you go brown, Tae? And you blond, Jimin?’ a voice suddenly says, making all three of us jump. There’s a man stood on Taehyung’s front garden, and I remember him as Jung Hoseok from school. He was cute back then, but he’s handsome now with his golden skin and his silky brown hair. ‘About… 90 minutes ago,’ Taehyung says, currently drawing what looks like a heart but could also be an alien, and Hoseok nods as though it’s perfectly normal.

‘Hey, y/n. Your hair looks nice,’ Hoseok says, shooting a heart-shaped smile at me, and I smile back. I’m still not used to my hair being blonde when it falls into my face, but it does look nice – Tae and Jimin did a good job. ‘Hey, Hoseok. Thank you. Tae and Jimin did it.’ ‘Please, call me Hobi. Anyway, how are you?’ he says before wincing, obviously already aware of my situation. Jimin really can’t keep his mouth shut. ‘I’m okay. How are you?’ I ask, and he nods, replying, ‘I’m good. Excited to work on this list.’ ‘Well, get some chalk and get your ass down here to help us,’ Jimin says from where he’s sprawled out on the gravel, drawing a dog (or attempting to, anyway).

We’ve been working on the chalk for just over an hour, listening to music from Taehyung’s speaker that’s sat in the doorway (Coco and Tan have already knocked it over several times whilst they’ve been playing). Bright chalk covers nearly all of Taehyung and Namjoon’s driveway – except for where Tae and Jimin’s cars are – rainbows, flowers, hearts, clouds surrounding us (as well as a bunny, a pineapple, a unicorn, a slice of watermelon and Jimin’s dog).

‘It looks like you’re nearly done,’ Hoseok observes, and I nod, wiping my forehead clean of sweat. ‘Yeah, we are. This isn’t as fun as I thought it was going to be,’ I say frankly, the others all laughing. ‘The fun comes from taking pictures with the chalk,’ Taehyung says, and I get up instantly. ‘Okay, let’s just take pictures and then carry on with the list,’ I say, the three of them laughing again as Jimin and Taehyung get up from the floor.

Taehyung instantly goes into director mode, making me lie down in a gap in the chalk. Jimin stands over me, one foot on either side of my waist, taking pictures on both the camera and his phone whilst Taehyung directs him on how to take them and me on how to pose, Hobi using his phone torch to give us better lighting (it doesn’t make much of a difference, but he’s trying).

I start to feel a little embarrassed, wondering what we must look like to Tae’s neighbours, before I remember that life is short – mine especially – so I should make the most of it without worrying what people think of me. After a few minutes (and a few dozen pictures), I get into it a little more, and the boys all begin hyping me up, Jimin making a few flirty comments here and there.

And then Jimin joins me, Taehyung taking the camera and Hobi directing us (he’s even more… bossy than Taehyung, instructing us down to the simplest things – the positions of our fingers, the direction we look in, the angle of our heads. Everything.)

‘You guys are gonna make her regret asking for help,’ a voice comes from the driveway, all of us looking over to see Namjoon and Jungkook from school stood there, leaning against the Jimin’s car. ‘Watch the car!’ Jimin exclaims, both of them heading over. ‘Just for the record, I didn’t ask for help. Jimin forc- I mean, Jimin volunteered his help,’ I say, correcting myself when he shoots me a dirty look, the others laughing.

‘It’s good to see you guys again. Did you walk here?’ I ask, and Namjoon nods. ‘It’s good to see you too. Jungkook picked me up from work, and then we dropped his car off and walked here. We all live really close to each other. Jimin, Jungkook and Hobi live on the road up there, and Jin and Yoongi live on the road down that way,’ Namjoon points, and I nod, thinking how sweet it is that they all live so close together.

‘JK, the blue’s gonna have to go,’ Tae says to the baby of their group. He’s changed more than all of them; he still has his big eyes and his cute bunny teeth, but that’s where the similarities end. He’s so handsome, and his body is lean and tall. Not as tall as Namjoon, though; he always was tall, but he’s grown even more now, and he’s gorgeous, with his dimples and blond hair. It’s like only beautiful people are allowed in their friendship group.

‘What?’ Jungkook asks, confused, his eyes wide. ‘You need to dye your hair brown again,’ Tae says, Jungkook frowning. ‘Why? I’ve only been blue for a couple days. Don’t you like it?’ ‘It looks great, but we’re all going natural out of respect, for y/n’s funeral,’ Jimin says casually, Jungkook choking and Namjoon slapping his back with wide eyes. ‘Jimin. You can’t just drop it in like that,’ Hobi reprimands, but I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, I’d prefer if we just spoke about it normally. Anyway, you don’t have to go brown, Jungkook, it’s okay,’ I say, Jungkook nodding, still looking a little shell-shocked.

‘Can we get up now?’ I say to Hobi from where I’m lying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder with Jimin, and he shakes his head. ‘If you want to make a scrapbook, you can’t just have pictures of you and Jimin in it. You need to get pictures with all of us,’ he says simply, and I bite my tongue, knowing I’ll just have to suck it up. Twenty minutes later, I’ve taken several pictures with all of the boys, and it was a little fun, I guess. We’ll have run out of film by the end of the day at this rate.

But my head’s starting to hurt a little, and I know I can’t take anymore. ‘Can we stop now? I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ I say, sitting up, and they all look a little worried. ‘Is it from being under the sun for so long?’ Hobi asks, nervously, but Tae speaks before I can reply; ‘no, it’s probably the hair dye.’ Jimin looks at them both incredulously. ‘I think it’s the tumour in her brain,’ he says slowly, and I can’t help but share his exasperation at their stupid suggestions, the boys all falling into a shocked silence as Jimin looks to me with thinly-veiled amusement.

‘Yeah, I think you’re right, Jimin, it probably is,’ I say, holding back a laugh. ‘Do you want some painkillers?’ Tae asks weakly, and I smile, shaking my head. ‘I’m okay, thanks. I might just have a little lie-down, if that’s okay?’ I ask, Tae nodding straight away. ‘I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms and you can have a shower, or a nap, if you want?’ Tae suggests as Hobi and Jimin help me up, my head dizzy and light, and I nod. ‘That sounds perfect.’

I blink in the slices of soft sunlight that fall between the blinds onto the bed, sitting up carefully. My head feels a lot better after that nap, which was the best nap of my life, by the way. Tae and Joon must be seriously rich, because this bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. And the room is super lavish, monochrome and clean, with a deep carpet and expensive looking furnishings. The bathroom was nice too, and I dragged out my shower a lot longer than usual, my skin smelling fresh with Tae and Namjoon’s expensive passionfruit body wash.

I slowly climb out of the bed, looking at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite me. I still can’t get used to the hair, but it does look good. Tae has good taste, and he and Jimin put the dye in really well – the front sections of my hair are the perfect vibrant blonde. Tae put all these different haircare products in it after he washed out the dye, and it feels healthier than ever before. It’s obvious he’s dyed his hair plenty, because he’s clearly an expert. He could be a hairdresser if he wanted to.

I open my suitcase and get out a bralet to put on (my pyjamas are satin, and I’d rather not have my nipples visible through them in a room full of childhood friends I haven’t seen for years) and put it on beneath my black button-up pyjama shirt. I quickly splash some water over my face to wake myself up a little before I head downstairs, following the loud voices that lead me into the kitchen. Namjoon’s stood at the counter, making coffee, Jungkook, Jimin, Tae and Hobi sat around the breakfast bar with two new arrivals; Yoongi, and Seokjin. Seokjin literally hasn’t aged a day, and he’s somehow even more handsome than he was back then, with his plump lips and swept back dark hair.

‘Sleeping beauty awakes!’ Jimin exclaims when he sees me walk in, and I smile softly, still a little sleepy. His blond hair really does look good, the perfect summer colour, and Tae’s looks really good too – the dark brown locks make him look like a model. ‘y/n! They were right, you really are gorgeous!’ Jin exclaims, jumping up and pulling me into a hug, and I try to supress the embarrassment I’m feeling at them talking about me, and telling Jin I’m gorgeous. One thing I remember about Jin was that he never used to feel embarrassed, at anything. Sometimes he’d get a little shy, and his ears would go red, but he’d never hesitate to do something, even if it was embarrassing, if it would help to ease any awkwardness and make people feel comfortable.

His hugging me, despite us barely speaking when we went to school together and not having seen each other for years, is just what I need, and a perfect example of how kind Jin is.

‘Thanks, Jin, but look at you! You’re really handsome,’ I say honestly, feeling at ease after his hug, and he grins at me. ‘You didn’t call me handsome, y/n, but you called Tae and Jin handsome,’ Jimin pouts, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘She knows Tae and I are the best-looking, that’s why,’ Jin says, and Jimin scowls at him before looking back at me, still waiting for an answer. ‘Just because I didn’t say it out loud, doesn’t mean I didn’t think it,’ I say matter-of-factly, and he grins proudly. ‘What about the rest of us?’ Hobi asks, all of them flashing smiles at me, and I blink a few times. ‘You’re all handsome. Now stop smiling at me before I faint,’ I say, all of them laughing.

‘Coffee, y/n?’ Namjoon asks, but I shake my head. ‘I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. Thanks, though,’ I say, and Jimin frowns. ‘y/n, it’s not like it matters,’ Jimin says, everyone wincing, and I laugh, nodding in agreement. ‘You’re right. I will have some, please, Namjoon,’ I say, everyone laughing again as Namjoon nods with a smile, getting another mug out for me. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ Tae says, patting the empty seat between him and Jungkook, and I sit in it, feeling a little self-conscious. I’m in my pyjamas, with no makeup and slight bedhead, and they’re all just… so handsome.

‘What do you guys do? For you all to be at home at… 5.38 on a Wednesday?’ I say, reading the time on the clock. I have all of the boys on social media, so I vaguely know some of what goes on in their lives, but not much. It’s hard to keep track of everyone from school. ‘Um, I own my own photography business. We do photography for weddings, parties, photo shoots, etc. and we’ve had some pretty high-profile clients, so we’re quite successful. And I do some art on the side, and some of my paintings have sold well, hence the fancy house. I get to work from home most of the time, because I mainly do editing – I’ve hired photographers, but I do a couple weddings here and there,’ Tae says, and I’m impressed, though not surprised. Tae always did have a talent for art, and he was the photographer for the school newspaper, so this career is perfect for him.

‘I own my own dance studio, and we only open on Monday and Tuesday 6-9, Thursday 3-6, and then Saturdays and Sundays,’ Hoseok says and, again, I’m not surprised; Hoseok always loved his dancing and he put more effort into dance than into his school work, but I guess it paid off.

‘I work for Hobi and Tae. I teach classes every day that it’s open, and then I do some photography work every couple weeks. And I do some shifts here and there at a tattoo shop,’ Jungkook says, and I think it’s really cute that he works for his friends, though I wonder if it sparks any arguments between them. I look at Jimin when Jungkook mentions the tattoo shop, and Jimin grins with a little nod, my stomach turning. Obviously, he was referring to where Jungkook works when he said he knew the perfect place for me to get a tattoo.

‘I do all the finances and admin and paperwork for Tae and Hobi, and I work for a small record label, producing and rapping,’ Namjoon says as he puts my coffee down in front of me, and I thank him with a smile, quite surprised to hear Namjoon’s career choice. To be fair, Namjoon excelled in all of his subjects, so he’d be good at whatever he chose to do.

‘I’m a part-time chef at this restaurant in the city, and I’m also studying to become an actor,’ Jin says, and I’m impressed. I didn’t know Jin was interested in cooking or in acting, but now that I look at him, he really does look like an actor, and I could imagine him as a chef too, with one of those big white hats.

‘I’m a barista, as you know, I teach a couple piano lessons a week, and I do some rapping and producing at the same company as Namjoon,’ Yoongi explains, and I remember how good he was at piano. He was chosen to play at one of these awards’ evenings we had at school, and we were all so impressed at how good he was. Rapping, though? I never knew he could rap.

Everyone looks at Jimin to answer, but he looks back blankly before saying, ‘I already told her my job.’ They all nod before looking back at me. ‘What do you do, y/n?’ Jin asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘I work part-time as an assistant at a law firm, and I’m studying to become a lawyer. Or I was anyway,’ I trail off, a little sad that I’ll never be able to do my dream job, and the boys all give me pitying looks. Except for Jimin, who says, ‘damn, y/n, you’re clever. Law student, huh?’ I nod with a smile, and he grins. ‘You could’ve got in on the family businesses, and done all the boring legal shit for us,’ Jimin says, and I grimace, internally endeared at him calling them the family businesses. ‘I’d have passed. Sorry,’ I say, the boys all laughing.

‘Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s carry on with your list,’ Jin says, picking it up from where it sits in the middle of the island, and I take a sip of my coffee. ‘Should I wash the chalk from your driveway?’ I ask Tae and Joon, and they both shake their heads. ‘I was about to, but Jin stopped me. He wants some pictures with you and the chalk,’ Tae says, and I let out a sigh, all them laughing. ‘We’ve literally spent all of our time on the chalk so far. Your four days are gonna fly by,’ I say to Jimin, who waves it off with an easy grin.

‘Stop trying to worry me. Four days is plenty. You go take some pictures with Jin, and Yoongi, while I set up the next thing for us to tick off,’ Jimin says, getting up and pulling me off my seat, pushing me towards the door. ‘Make sure you get plenty of good pictures,’ Jimin says to Tae with a mischievous glance at me, who nods, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re gonna run out of film,’ I say, but Jimin shakes his head with a grin. ‘I went out whilst you were asleep and got some more supplies, including a few more boxes of film,’ he grins, and I let out a deep sigh as Tae and Jin drag me outside, Yoongi trailing behind, and Jimin waving at us from the doorway.

‘Done with your photoshoot?’ Jimin asks as we walk into the living room. ‘Yes, thank God,’ I say, throwing myself down onto the sofa. ‘Jin, you’re way too demanding. We were out there for forty-five minutes,’ Yoongi says, flopping down next to me, and Jin scowls at us from the doorway. ‘Tae wasn’t getting my angles!’ he exclaims, and Tae’s eyes widen. ‘You’re not blaming this on me. I own a photography business, so don’t accuse me of being a bad photographer,’ Tae says, Jin opening his mouth to speak, but Jimin interrupts; ‘don’t argue. y/n’s dying.’

They go silent, and I burst out laughing as Jimin grins at me. ‘You can’t drop that into every conversation, Jimin,’ I laugh, the others relaxing a little, and Jimin shrugs. ‘I can. Just watch. Anyway, before you get comfy, we need to go into the dining room,’ he says vaguely with a knowing grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I don’t want to, because of that look on your face,’ I say suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘Come on, y/n, we gotta tick the next thing off your list,’ Jimin says amusedly, holding a hand out to me, and I take it after a moment of hesitation, letting him pull me up. He doesn’t let go of my hand, dragging me behind him into the dining room, and it takes a little while for me to register what’s going on.

The table is set up with these different machines, and Jungkook sits at the table with an empty seat beside him, a lamp set up to cast a bright light onto the empty chair. And then I spot the little book on the table, sat beside a bunch of needles lined up on a small white sheet.

Jungkook’s about to give me a tattoo.

‘Oh, hell no,’ I say, turning around, but Jimin grabs me around the waist before I can walk away, picking me up and carrying me over to the door as I struggle around in his arms, the other boys watching amusedly. But Jimin’s freakishly strong, and my struggling doesn’t work. He puts me down in the empty chair, and I pout at him before looking around at the others. Tae, Jin and Yoongi are stood in one doorway, blocking it, and Namjoon and Hobi stand in the other, blocking that too. I literally cannot leave, and when I look down at the needles, my stomach turns.

‘Do you want to look through the book?’ Jungkook asks gently, and I sigh. ‘Not really,’ I say, all of them laughing as he hands me the book, and I flip through it. ‘Can you all stop looking at me? Or at least put on some music so I don’t feel so tense,’ I say, more laughter rippling around the room as Taehyung gets his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a couple times, gentle RnB music floating out into the room from the ceiling. They must have a built-in sound system – their house really is boujee.

I scan the book and some of the designs are cute, but none of them really stand out to me. ‘Struggling to choose one?’ Jungkook asks quietly, the others having conversations between themselves, and I nod. He rolls up his sleeve, and shows me the various tattoos that cover his arm and hand. He has a flower, a skeleton hand, the word ‘Truth’, the woozy emoji, a purple heart, a little crown and some black stripes with various numbers and letters on his hand. ‘They all stand for different things. Like, for example, this is the tiger flower, which is my birth flower, and the letters all stand for the guys. So you could get some that are meaningful to you, or you could just get something that you think looks pretty. It’s up to you,’ he says, and I nod, thinking.

I decide on getting my birth flower, a little bolt of lightning and my parents’ initials. ‘Why don’t you get something summer related?’ Jimin suggests softly, and I think before nodding. ‘Like… the sun, or something?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Whatever you want. You could get a picture or a quote, anything you want. It’s up to you, y/n. It’s your body,’ he says, and I nod, thinking about the first idea I had for a tattoo when I wrote that list. ‘How about ‘we’ll always have summer’… or is that silly?’ I ask, and Jungkook shakes his head straight away.

‘Of course it isn’t silly,’ he says, but Jimin looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Who’s we?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘I don’t know. A general ‘we’, I guess? Like… as bleak as life gets, as boring, as sad, as hard as life is, there’s always the hope, the promise, the excitement of summer. So no matter what happens, we’ll always have summer,’ I explain, Jungkook’s eyes widening, and Jimin nodding at me with a small smile. ‘Wow, that’s so deep, y/n. You’re so clever,’ Jungkook says, and I laugh, waving it off.

‘Have you decided yet?’ Hobi asks, and I nod, feeling a little nervous. ‘I’m getting my birth flower, a bolt of lightning, my parents’ initials, and ‘we’ll always have summer’. What do you think?’ I ask, and Hobi smiles, looking impressed. ‘You’re getting four?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Might as well.’ ‘Where do you want them?’ Jungkook asks, and I hesitate. ‘Where does it hurt least?’ ‘Your ass,’ Jimin says with a grin, and I swat at him whilst the others all laugh. ‘The least painful is usually your back, the outside of your arms, the inside of your forearm and the outsides of your thighs. Hands aren’t too bad, and nor are shoulders,’ Jungkook explains.

After a lot of deliberation, we make the decision as a group of where I should have them; birth flower on my inner forearm, my parents’ initials on my right ring finger, the lightning bolt on the side of my ribcage/side-boob, and the quote on the back of my left shoulder. ‘How long will it take, Jungkook?’ I ask as Jungkook sets up all his equipment, the others arguing about what we should have for dinner. ‘Please, call me JK, or Kook, or whatever. And, it shouldn’t take longer than a few hours, because they’re all quite small. The quote will take the longest, and I can usually do quotes in an hour and a half, so I’d say… three hours, maybe three and a half?’ he says, and I feel dread at the thought of being in pain for that long. But it’s fine. I’ll be fine.

‘Are you still not done?’ Taehyung demands as he enters the room, Jungkook’s eyes still fixed on my finger as he sighs. ‘Relax, I’m doing the last one now. I’ll be done in a few minutes,’ he says, and Tae huffs. ‘You’re taking ages. We want to do the next thing on her list.’ ‘Don’t rush me, Tae. Tattooing is an art,’ Jungkook says calmly, Tae rolling his eyes from behind Jungkook’s back, and I hold back a laugh.

It actually wasn’t that painful, surprisingly. The worst thing was having to stay still for so long. He started with my birth flower, and it was fascinating to watch the ink appear on my skin, at first. The fascination soon wore off, and I was itching to move, but I knew I’d just ruin it if I did.

Then he moved onto the quote. I had to tie my hair up into a bun and sit backwards on a chair whilst he did it, and Jimin fed me some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, keeping me entertained with his stupid antics. Jin tried to feed Jungkook, but when he choked Jungkook with a chopstick, Jungkook decided he’d just eat afterwards.

And then he did my lightning bolt. I had to take off my top and unclasp my bra, holding it in place with my arm out of the way so Jungkook could get to my side-boob easily, and I told the boys that none of them could come in whilst he was doing that one, because the bra kept slipping. Jungkook was very professional though, and I can’t even imagine how many boobs he’s seen over his time working as a tattoo artist.

And now he’s doing my fingers. I’m used to the stinging pain now, and I’m very proud of myself for not crying. Tae shows me some funny videos on his phone whilst Jungkook carries on with the tattoo. ‘And… done!’ he exclaims, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. I look at my hand, pleased with how the tattoo looks. ‘Thank you, JK, it’s great.’ ‘No problem. Right… let me give you the aftercare speech,’ he says as he begins to put the weird jelly stuff and a bandage onto my finger. It’s weird how professional he is – I saw him passed out drunk at house parties more times than I can remember, and now he’s giving me tattoos and telling me how to look after them properly.

‘Don’t remove these bandages for 24 hours, and when you do, wash the tattoos, gently, with an unscented soap and water, and pat it dry afterwards. Put on some of this ointment twice a day, if you can, but you don’t need to put on another bandage. Wash them a few times a day, gently, with unscented soap and water, and always pat them dry, and then put on an unscented sensitive skin moisturiser. Obviously, you’re going to tick those things off your bucket list, and I’m sure a couple involve being in the water and sun. We usually advise against being in the water and sun, but obviously, you’re not going to do that, so just don’t be in the sun for too long, and put plasters over them when you go in the water, to try and stop them being infected. It’s not really that big of a deal if they do get infected because…’ ‘I’m dying anyway.’ ‘Yeah, that. So don’t worry about it too much, but just try your best to be careful with them. Oh, and don’t go into hot water, if you can help it. Have cool showers, and not for too long, either. I think that’s it, but if you have any questions, just get my number from Jimin and text or call me. Do you have any questions now?’

‘Only one; would you rather I transferred you the money, or do you want cash?’ ‘y/n, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not charging you,’ he says as though it’s obvious, and I frown. ‘Jungkook.’ ‘No, y/n, I’m not taking money from you.’ ‘Why not? I haven’t got anything else to spend it on, remember? And it’s taken you ages!’ ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not accepting any money from you, and that’s it. I do free tattoos for the boys all the time – Jimin’s got several from me. Just see it as a gift from an old friend,’ he says simply, with a grin, and I can’t help the small smile on my face. ‘Thank you, JK,’ I say, and he grins even wider, his cute little bunny teeth on display. ‘No problem, y/n.’

‘Are you done now? Can we move on to the next thing?’ Tae says excitedly, Jungkook nodding with a laugh at his eagerness. ‘Come on, then,’ Tae says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, dragging me out of the dining room. He leads me towards the back door, pushing it open and moving aside to let me out first, and I gasp when I see the garden. ‘I know it’s not that big but it’s the best I could do,’ Jimin says as I slip on the sliders that he puts down on the floor in front of me, stepping out onto the light wood decking.

Tae and Namjoon’s garden is beautiful – it’s obvious at least one of the two loves gardening. The decking has steps down onto the grass which is healthy and neat, a dark, rich green, and there are trees and flowers of all different colours lining the light wood fence that runs around the garden. Fairy lights are strung up around the fence, casting a warm yellow glow across the space and there’s a fire pit in the middle of the garden, a small fire inside it with a garden furniture set placed around it, four armchairs and two two-seaters.

‘Oh, my God, this is great! Did you already have a fire pit?’ I ask Tae who shakes his head. ‘Jimin went out to buy one earlier,’ he says, and I look to Jimin with a frown. ‘You shouldn’t have. Let me give you the money for it,’ I say, and he shakes his head before I even finish speaking. ‘I don’t think so. Come on,’ he says, holding out an arm to me, and I take it with a begrudging smile. He leads me down the decking steps, across the grass to the bonfire and he sits down in an armchair as I sit in the two-seater beside it, Tae and JK following behind, the leftovers of the Chinese food in Jungkook’s hands.

‘Where are the others?’ I ask, and Jimin looks a little sheepish. ‘I, um, went to get supplies when you were sleeping, right? Well, I bought the fire pit, but I forgot all the other stuff,’ he explains, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘What other stuff?’ I ask, just as Jin and Hobi appear through the back door. ‘The biscuits, the chocolate, the marshmallows, the roasting sticks. Everything else,’ Jin says exasperatedly, the two of them coming to join us.

‘Where are the other two?’ Tae asks as they take their seats, Jin taking a prawn cracker from Jungkook’s lap, the boy shooting him a dirty look. ‘Putting the stuff onto plates for us, because a couple of us are too messy and, apparently, we’ll drop melted marshmallows and chocolate onto the grass and ruin it,’ Hobi says with a roll of his eyes, and I have a feeling he’s quoting Namjoon. ‘Am I wrong, though? There’s still the patch of grass that’s discoloured after Jimin spilled beer on it!’ Namjoon exclaims, holding blankets in his arms, Yoongi following behind with a tray in his hands, paper plates atop the tray. ‘How many times do I have to apologise for ruining your grass before you forget?’ Jimin asks tiredly as Namjoon and Yoongi take their seats, and Namjoon gives him a hard look. ‘As many times as it takes for the grass to return to its proper colour,’ Namjoon says, and I can feel an argument brewing so I quickly change the subject.

‘Shall we get a picture?’ I ask, not realising that another argument is about to start, over who’s going to take the picture. ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been arguing for five minutes! Just let me take the picture!’ Yoongi exclaims (after five minutes of arguing), his annoyance only half-hearted, and I pout. ‘No, Yoongi, I want you in the picture. I want us all in the picture,’ I say, Jin sighing and grabbing his temples before sending Namjoon to ask their nice neighbour, Mr Lee. I feel bad for disturbing him at 9.09pm on a Wednesday, but they insist. It’s more than a little awkward when he starts asking questions and Jimin says with a grin, ‘we’re ticking off y/n’s summer bucket list because she’s got a brain tumour and she’s going to die in a week.’ It’s like he can’t take the pictures quick enough after that, practically sprinting out of the garden once he’s done.

Yoongi gives us all our plates, Jungkook balancing his on one knee whilst he eats his Chinese food, and I feel pretty stupid when all of them instantly know how to put their s’mores together. ‘Have you never had s’mores before?’ Jimin asks, and I shake my head sheepishly. ‘Here, let me show you. You gotta just put a marshmallow on a stick,’ he says, and I copy the way he spears it on the stick. ‘Then you hold it over the fire for a little while, until it goes a bit brown, and then turn it over the other way,’ he says, holding his stick over the fire, and I do the same, turning it the other way once it’s browned a little. ‘And then you get a piece of chocolate and put it on top of a biscuit. And then you put the marshmallow on top of that. And then you put a piece of chocolate on top of the marshmallow, and another biscuit on top of the chocolate. Then you take it off the stick and… you got your s’more!’ he says, holding his s’more up with a flourish. It looks a lot neater than mine, but I’m still proud of myself for managing to not set fire to anything. ‘Just wait a little for it to cool down. Kook learned that the hard way,’ Jimin says pointedly, the other boy pursing his lips embarrassedly as we all laugh.

The sky is still high and light with clouds, though the sun has disappeared over the horizon, the moon a pale white circle against the soft blue. The air is still warm, but not with the humidity of earlier today, a cool tinge to the breeze that glides across my skin. It’s the perfect summer evening, made even better by the light conversations we have and the alcohol that Taehyung brings out for us – Jimin, Yoongi and Jin drink their soju like it’s going out of fashion, Jungkook, Namjoon and Hobi nursing beers instead whilst Tae and I sip on our Malibu and coke (very little Malibu actually in it). The s’mores are amazing, the warm gooey marshmallow, rich melty chocolate and crunchy sweet biscuits a perfect combination – whoever came up with s’mores is an actual genius.

‘Do you want some more s’mores, y/n?’ Hobi asks once my plate is empty, and I groan, the boys all laughing. ‘I think I’ll explode if I have another. I’ve eaten more today than I have in the last week,’ I say, clutching my stomach. ‘I’ll have one, Hobi,’ Jungkook says with a cheeky grin, and Hobi shoots him a glare, no real venom in it. ‘Get yourself one.’ ‘You offered to y/n!’ ‘You’re not dying in a week,’ Hobi says, eyes instantly flitting to me to see if I mind, but I’m already bursting into laughter, my head falling onto Jin’s shoulder which is shaking from his laughter too.

‘Are we terrible for joking about death?’ Jungkook says once we’ve all calmed down, and I sigh. A cold breeze rushes past us, biting at my skin, and I shiver, pulling my blanket closer around me and shuffling forward in my seat so I sit closer to the bonfire. It’s gotten so much cooler so quickly, all of us wrapped up in blankets. ‘What can we do but joke about it? I think I’d cry if we didn’t,’ I say into the silence, the boys all just listening as I stare into the flickering flames, deeply inhaling the smoky scent in the air.

‘It still doesn’t feel real. How do you prepare yourself for death?’ I ask, voice a little shaky, and Jin puts a hand on my shoulder gently. ‘I wish we could tell you, y/n, and make it easier for you, but it will never be easy to see someone of your age die. Old people, who have lived their lives, they can prepare for death. I don’t think you can. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. We all are,’ he says softly, his kind words bringing a sad smile to my face. ‘Thank you. Thank you all, for doing all this today, and Namjoon and Taehyung, for opening your home to me,’ I say, all of them reflecting my sad smile back at me.

‘We’d have done it even if you weren’t dying, y/n. Please, don’t think we’re only doing this because you’re dying. We’ve all known each other since we were kids. And look at all you did for us. We’d have done all of this for you regardless of your health if you asked us to,’ Namjoon says, and I look at him in confusion, wondering what he means. ‘What did I do for all of you?’ ‘We were talking about this whilst you were asleep. Remember when I was riding my bike past your house, and I fell off it?’ Namjoon asks, the others laughing at the mention, and all of a sudden, a memory I didn’t even know I had appears in my mind.

We must’ve been around 7; I don’t remember what I was doing, but I saw Namjoon on the floor outside of my house through the window, clutching onto his knee with his bike beside him. I ran and got the plasters from where they were in one of the kitchen cupboards, and practically sprinted outside. I sat down on the floor beside Namjoon, and there were tears in his eyes, and his knee was bloody. Not knowing that you’re supposed to clean a cut and disinfect it, I’d just put a plaster on for him, and then my parents saw what was going on, and took Namjoon inside to properly clean the cut, me following them in with his bike in my arms, and then they phoned his mum to let her know what had happened. Our school was a tight knit community and all the parents were friends with each other – they all had each other’s phone numbers.

‘How do you remember that?’ I ask, smiling at the memory, and he grins. ‘It’s the first act of kindness I remember experiencing. And it might have been simple, but it taught me to be kind, and do things for people when I didn’t have to, because that’s what you did for me,’ he says, and then all of the boys share the stories of things I did for them over the years we went to school together.

For Jin, I’d lost one of his crayons and then I’d brought in a whole new pack for him. When his mum mentioned it to my parents and thanked them for buying Jin a new pack, they’d had been confused; they hadn’t bought a new set of crayons. I’d taken in one of my own sets for him without telling them. Jin brought it into school every day and shared it with me and only me, and wrote both of our names on the packaging so that everyone would know that they belonged to the both of us.

For Yoongi, I’d recorded his piano performance at the awards’ evening because I’d overheard his mum saying she’d forgotten her video camera at home and didn’t have a smart phone to record it on. I’d sent it to him that night, letting him know why I’d recorded it, and he’d thanked me before showing his mum. I never knew this at the time, but apparently she was so happy that she cried, and made Yoongi give me a present to thank me. I didn’t know that Yoongi was the one who put the thank you card in my locker with a necklace in it a couple weeks later – he’d been too shy to give it to me face to face (I’d been so confused, wondering who was thanking me and for what). I still wear the necklace sometimes – it’s a silver chain with a little butterfly pendant that rests between my collarbones.

For Hobi, I’d spotted a random bag in the school car park, and checked the belongings to see that it was Hobi’s – his wallet had been in there, along with a load of money and some dance clothes. I’d brought it in the next day and gave it to him, and he’d thanked me profusely. What I didn’t know at the time was that his mum had worked multiple jobs in order to fund his dancing, including buying him all that dance gear, and that he’d thought that someone would’ve stolen it all because they were worth a lot, as well as stealing his wallet. But instead, it’d been returned back to him, with everything still in there.

For Taehyung, I’d been the only one to say I liked his drawing, back when we were little kids. It was of a little alien cartoon character, with a heart shaped head (the same thing he’d been drawing in chalk on the driveway earlier), and everyone else laughed at him and called it silly and said it looked nothing like the real cartoon. But when I told him it was nice and that I thought it was really good, it made him want to draw it more, before he started drawing other things too, and his passion for art had been sparked, all because of a little compliment from me when we could barely write our names.

For Jungkook, I’d been helping clean Dahyun’s house after her house party, and I found him passed out in the upstairs bathroom. I got Dahyun to help me get him into my car, drove him home (I knew his address from a party he’d had once), used his house keys to get him in his house, helped him lie down on the sofa, forced him to drink some water and then left a note beside a full bottle of water to letting him know who’d dropped him off at home. And then I’d locked up after myself and posted the keys through the letterbox. His mum had phoned my parents the next day to thank me profusely, and brought over some cupcakes – they were amazing, by the way.

And for Jimin, maybe the most important of them all – I’d done my end-of-year presentation on eating disorders. We had to do the presentations for our language grade, to show that we could speak with fluency and precision and accuracy, and we were told to do it on an interesting topic so that we would be motivated to write an engaging presentation. Almost everyone else did theirs on superficial things, like their hobby or their favourite celebrity. Mine was one of the only serious ones. Everyone had praised mine – I always was good at language – and I got one of the highest two grades (Namjoon and I competed for the top of the class in every lesson we had together). But what I didn’t know was that, thanks to my presentation, Jimin realised he had an eating disorder. He was virtually starving himself, not eating for days at a time, whilst over exercising, because he hated the way his body looked. And because of the helplines and websites I put at the end of the presentation, he sought help, and spoke to his parents about it. He went to the doctor with his mother, and they put him on a diet plan to get him back to being healthy. I helped him to be healthy again.

My eyes are teary when Jimin finishes speaking. I’m so touched that he remembers, that they all remember the acts of kindness I did for them. And whilst Jimin’s was unintentional, it was still so important, and I’m proud of young me for deciding to do her presentation on a serious topic. I’m proud of her for being such a kind person all the time. This truly is karma – I did these nice things for them back then and they’re repaying that kindness back to me when I need it most. And then I realise why Jimin was so desperate to help me – he just wants to help me like I helped him.

‘So, really, y/n, don’t thank us. We owe you,’ Namjoon says, all of them nodding in agreement, and I beam at them, tears beginning to spill down my face. ‘Don’t cry, because you’ll make me cry!’ Jungkook shrieks, all of us laughing as Jin hands me a tissue, and I dab the tears away. ‘God, what’s wrong with me? I never cry this much usually,’ I say embarrassedly, and Jimin grins. ‘Don’t be embarrassed about crying. I think I’d have cried out all of the water in my body if I were you,’ Jimin says, coaxing a laugh from me. ‘Me, too,’ Jungkook says, sniffling a little, and we all burst into laughter when we see that his eyes are full of tears. ‘My God,’ Jin says, his lip curled up in mock disgust, ‘you really are a cry baby.’ ‘Can you blame me?’ Jungkook asks defensively, wiping his eyes, and Jin’s eyes widen. ‘Yes! You’re not the one dying!’ he exclaims, setting the rest of us off again, our laughter carrying in the cool summer air.

45 notes · View notes

growingupgerudo · 4 years

Text

The King’s Reflections

Mod’s Note: Here is an amazing fic written to us by @admirality-of-the-blues!! So happy to finally post this now that the pages it’s referencing are in the public eye! <3 Thank you so much! Desert nights were unlike any other that could be found in Hyrule. Surely, its days were scorching hot, with only the hardiest of the desert dwelling folk even daring to venture into the sands at the sun’s highest point. That would soon follow with a night that was blistering cold, where the Gerudo would exchange their protective cloaks for warm duvets and hot tea around a warm fire, seated well within their homes as they winded down for the evening, away from the chills of the dark. However, on this evening in particular, one certain Gerudo king found himself lounging on the railing of his balcony right outside his bedroom chambers overlooking his vast kingdom. Despite the bone chilling wind, he had foregone his shirt, as if he had suddenly abandoned the idea of heading to bed for rest and somehow had found himself wandering outside. He seemed unfazed by the cold however; his eyes, sunken in with worry and his lips set in a deep frown were enough of an indicator that he was quite deeply lost in thought. I... was never cut out for this. The thought had always persisted in the back of Ganondorf’s mind. He had never held any desire to be a king; it just seemed far too restricted and completely unaligned with what he wished to personally accomplish within his life. It certainly did not help that he was far too inclined to react instinctively based on how he was feeling at the moment, with hardly any thought given to it beforehand. It was these rash decisions that had taught him over and over again that the consequences of his actions were not something that would only befall him; rather, the people he was leading suffered as well, if not more than he did. That thought alone was enough for the king to feel a sickening feeling rise within his chest, his grip tightening on the railing to the point where he could certainly bend the flimsy metal with his immense strength. This flaw of his, it seemed, carried over to the more personal aspects of his life.

You’re not even my real mom!

I have never been his mother. As the wind picked up, rustling his long hair, the king found himself sighing deeply. He had always wanted to raise a family with children of his own, an instinct so deeply rooted within his being that he felt that it had been no mere coincidence that he had found Link on that fateful day in the desert. Yet, as the years went by, he found that he was failing at the one thing he desired the most. He knew teenagers were difficult to deal with, but to hear such heartbreaking words from the two people he cared for the most just seem to point at his failure. The harsh cold piercing his bare skin was one Ganondorf hardly felt as he found his hand racking through his hair relentlessly, as if it would help him sort out his thoughts in a better fashion. He could not lead his people to prosperity on his own, so much so that his son believed that he had to put his own safety on the line to do something about it. He had failed in truly allowing Nabooru to see what she was to Link; a loving, inspirational mother figure, one that had allowed them to be something much stronger than the word ‘family’ could ever encompass. And for Link... he had failed as a father to protect him from danger, and as a king to ensure that such a situation shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Ganondorf’s chest tightened with the intensity of the pain and sorrow he was feeling, his knuckles white from the death grip he had on the railing of the balcony. The groaning metal beneath him went unnoticed as every thought he had buried within his mind resurfaced one after another. Had he ever done a single thing in his life that had not resulted in pain and ruin for those he cared for more than anything? He strove, with all his heart, to be the king, father, and lover that would bring prosperity and joy to whatever he touched. Instead, his touch was more akin to one of death; everything, everything he ever touched was destined for ruin. If it hadn’t been for people like Nabooru in his life, what would have happened to him? What would have happened to the people around him? I…. It was all he could do to hold back the tears of sheer frustration that threatened to escape him. He hardly noticed his arm mutating into something grotesque, sparks running along the mutilated flesh and scales as image after image assaulted his mind, of his people dying in battle and famine, of holding his son in his arms praying that he would not die, of the look of utter pain on Nabooru’s face as Link’s words pierced her heart. Why could he not stop this anguish, despite his best efforts? Why could he not give anyone the life of peace and happiness they deserved?

I... AM A FAILURE!!!

The physical struggle with his arm was only one of survival instinct; no living being would simply allow themselves to be strangled without putting up a fight. The pain and anguish from the dark energy permeating his compromised limb was overshadowed by the ever darkening thoughts clouding his mind. He was a failure, a failure of a king, a failure of a father, a failure of a lover, and a failure of a man. This dark signature he was cursed with was a clear indication of this; this was how he was born, and this was what he was meant to be. As his struggle grew more desperate, more primal and innate, he wondered if he should simply succumb to the dark callings within his very soul. It seemed so natural to him…. If he was meant to destroy everything that he touched, then why not do so with that very intention. Then maybe, for once in his life... He would finally find success.

#growing up gerudo #Ganondorf #Nabooru #ganon #link #fanfic #admirality of the blues #loz #legend of zelda

132 notes · View notes

poisonedapples · 4 years

Text

The Dark Side of Christmas

Summary: Christmas is known as the happiest, most welcoming time of year. But when you’re Roman, that’s not always the case.

TRIGGERS: Roman has PTSD but it’s not stated by name in the fic, fighting, swearing, mentions of past shootings, mention of a car accident/explosion, blood. panic, past death and grieving, mental health problems, anxiety, dissociation and flashbacks, Christmas, tell me if you notice any more, cause this one has a lot

Note: HAPPY LATE HOLIDAY! This was supposed to be done by Christmas, but this month has Sucked so I’m using that as my excuse. My friend @theultimatemomfriend was my secret santa for something I did in the Powerless server, so here is your gift mixed with my own self indulgence! Hope you like it <3

But also , thank you to @romansleftshoulderpad and @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 for saving me some time and editing it for me. I appreciate you two

He was driving in a car.

She was screaming at him at the top of her lungs, all about how he was a failure, couldn’t do simple things, is only a disappointment to everyone that’s ever known him. The screaming was like a concert speaker right next to his ear; loud, loud, loud.

He couldn’t steer in these conditions. Not with a rocky road that bent in so many directions, a skinny single lane on a cliff with traffic cones instead of a protective railing. His foot was all the way on the brake, yet the car was speeding down the road faster than he’s ever driven before. The tires were screeching. She was still yelling.

It’s so loud.

She jumped on top of him suddenly, grabbing a hold of his neck with her long nails digging into his throat. Everything burned, he couldn’t breathe, and no one was steering the car anymore.

It’s so loud.

High pitched screeching echoed from nowhere. She was still screaming in his ear while his neck fell asleep, desperately trying to pull away her hand in order to breathe.

You’re going to die.

The car fell down the cliff. Completely on its side, such a smooth yet loud fall, the car came crashing into the woods under it, fire consuming his sight and all of his brain, the loud crash coming to a complete, deafening silence after an overwhelming boom.

Roman’s body jerked awake.

He scrunched up his shoulders to immediately cover the tingling part of his neck where he was being strangled in his dream. His mind was foggy while his body felt ready to run a marathon, heart beating fast and every inch of his skin shaking violently. Roman curled into a ball trying to calm down in the pitch black room, to no avail.

Phone. Phone. Phone has light, where’s my phone-

Roman’s Rapunzel figure on his bedside table crashed to the floor from his lack of coordination, pretty stones meant for healing and love moving out of their places and into undusted territory. Roman dropped his phone on his chest once he grabbed it but was only grateful it didn’t hit the floor this time, turning on the bright screen and blinding his eyes.

It was better than the darkness.

5:48 AM, his clock said, the lock screen blurry-looking because of Roman’s unfocused eyes and the tears pricking out certainly not helping. But he could tell there were no notifications over the night.

It’s always weird when he has to delete the Instagram app. His phone doesn’t buzz nearly as much without it.

He unlocked his phone and opened up one of his word puzzle game apps. Although it pained him to admit that Logan was right, lighthearted thinking games helped him on nights like these. Where all he needed was to calm down, but no people were around to help him with that.

As the game loaded and he was wondering what words to make with the letters F, I, G, U, E, and R, Roman clung tightly to his giant stuffed animal Magic Bitch the Queen, a rainbow pegacorn that was perfect for squishing. The name only made it better. Weirdly more calming.

Things were calming down. He definitely won’t be able to go back to sleep tonight, but given the date it was a miracle he felt as calm as he did—

“Virgil, quiet down-”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want!”

“Virgil!”

...Nevermind.

Roman curled in on himself at the sound of the yelling. He hated fighting. He hated it with a burning passion, loud noises made him jump out of his skin and it was only worse when it was them yelling. They’re usually a lot more calm when Roman is around, but sometimes things just...got out of hand.

This was one of those times.

“This bitch thinks he can just walk in here and act like he owns the damn place! Well newsflash fucker, you’re not the only person who cares about Roman! Stop acting like you can fucking control him!”

“I’m not controlling him! Is it a crime for me to want to care about my own brother!? Last time I checked, you’re not family!”

“Remus-“

“Oh cram it, calculator watch!”

“Go fuck yourself, you walking STD!”

“Virgil Foster! If you end up waking Roman, I swear-”

Patton paused mid sentence when he saw the figure standing in the middle of the steps. Everyone looked over at Roman, his hand fiddling with the end of his sleeve and way too tired eyes. His posture a little too straight, smile so dead it was hardly a smile at all. “It’s alright, Pat. I was awake anyway.”

“I assume another nightmare?” Logan asked.

Roman went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Filling it with milk until it was overflowing, Roman smiled. “You know me so well.”

Patton’s face grew concerned while he chugged some of the milk, Remus crossing his arms and glaring at Virgil. “You wouldn’t be having these problems if you’d stayed at my place instead of this dump.”

“This dump is our home, trash panda. Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Ironic.” Remus towered over Virgil with his hands on his hips when he stepped closer, Virgil hissing when he got too close. “All I’m saying is that isn’t it better for Roman to be with family who can help, instead of stuck in the same place that caused all this in the first place? With people who don’t even understand?”

“You know that I’m here, right? That I can hear you talking about me? Cause I can hear you talking about me.”

“Or maybe he needs to be around family that actually cares instead of being around the same deadbeat bastard who only comes visit to be the same pile of dog shit he makes everyone step in!”

Patton sighed. “Virgil, please stop. Can we please just go back to bed? Without all the fighting?”

The looks on Remus’ face was too taunting. Blood boiled in Virgil’s veins from three weeks of dirty glares at each other while he watched his best friend curl around him for comfort instead of anyone else. The cockiness of him trying to take Roman off to Florida for the holiday, like he was the only one who cared. He hated his stupid gross smile and how Roman snickered at his dirty jokes, he hated how he was genuinely helping and how useless their help was.

How threatening this bitch actually made him feel. But Virgil refused to lose.

“I’ll go to bed when this bitch stops acting like he can walk into my fucking house and act like he owns the fucking place! Eat my food, use my water, and steal my fucking friend because apparently this human embodiment of the feeling you get right before you fucking projectile vomit is the reincarnation of Christ!”

“Virgil!”

“And I’ll go to bed when this ‘Roman’s my best friend’ wannabe stops getting in between my family because his self esteem’s so low in the ground that sharks can have sex on it!”

“Fuck you!”

“JUST SHUT UP!”

Everyone paused when Roman screamed, his hand too weak to hold onto his glass and his hands shaking too hard to fiddle with the end of his sleeve anymore. His eyes were glassy and his chest felt like it was caving in on itself, with evil butterflies chewing apart his ribs and leaving hollow discomfort. Patton’s eyes went soft as he slowly approached Roman, keeping a loose grip on his hand and saying something to him that Roman wasn’t listening to in order to calm him down. But he was just tired. So tired. Tired of the yelling and the fear and the everything that he just wanted to get away.

So he did.

“Roman?” It was all he’d heard from Pat even after all his talking, but Roman still decided to ignore it. He quickly slipped on some shoes and grabbed his coat from the closet, opening the front door without another word.

Patton’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening. “Roman, wait-“

But just like that, the door had slammed behind him and he was making his way down the street.

He could already see his therapist’s “I don’t get paid enough for the shit you put me through” face when he eventually talks about this, but that was future Roman’s problem.

...He still had no clue where he was going.

That was always the worst part about Roman’s “run away from your problems” habit. He never had any plan. He could end up three towns over, he could end up across the street. In one of the first incidents, he ended up at a McDonald’s right on the outskirts of the state and fell asleep in the bathroom stall. When he called Logan and told him where he was, it was an hour drive to come get him since they didn’t trust him to drive back in his state. That’s why they first started looking for a therapist for him.

He wished he had his car this time. Walking around in freezing weather with pajama pants is cold.

Roman made his way down the hill where the house was to head downtown, where a good handful of stores were open at every time of day. He needed the heat.

“Eileen, you will pay for making me lose my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll be okay. It wasn’t working for you anyway.”

“...Hey!”

...And the distraction.

It was at 11:30 when Ellie woke him up. Dragging him out of bed and making him help her “sneak” out—if you could call going through the front door sneaking—, they ended up in a supermarket at around midnight on Christmas Eve.

“I got Remus this giant ass octopus stuffed animal that was literally like ninety dollars, but I need a gag gift for him. Something completely and utterly stupid, and I need you to help me look for it. So I can go home sooner.”

“A giant octopus isn’t a gag gift to you?”

“He’ll love it and you know it.”

“...Touche. Maybe just get him toilet paper?”

“Too enjoyable. Too useful. He’ll set the rolls on fire in the backyard or something.”

“...Nevermind then!”

The first store Roman found with its lights still on was a small convenience store next to a gas station. His legs were starting to get slow from the cold, teeth chattering slightly with his arms tucked close to his body like a penguin.

Roman went inside.

“Oh my God, Roman, it’s perfect.”

“What is it?”

“‘Maybe you touched your balls’ hand sanitizer. I’m getting five.”

Roman tried not to laugh too hard, especially when the store was so quiet at this hour, but he couldn’t help it. With slight sleep deprivation and the look on his sister’s face, Roman burst out a laugh and gave Ellie a lazy push. Ellie took five of the hand sanitizers and piled them in her hands, making their way toward the checkout.

Alone in a store on the night of Christmas Eve.

Roman didn’t want to think about it, but then again, he never did. And every time he focused on one thing, half of his brain was still on his sister.

His throat felt weird.

“I’m dreaming of a white...christmas…”

Ellie was basically skipping on her way to the checkout. She loved old Christmas songs, and not being able to resist the temptation to perform must be another “Sanders Siblings” thing.

Roman was staring at the chip aisle when his chest started to expand, his hands growing weak and absolute fear taking over. Why was breathing so hard? What is it now?

His eyes became glassy again, his vision becoming more distant and distorted until he couldn’t tell what he was looking at. But his ears seemed to focus on something else. Something so distant but close at the same time, ringing in his ears while he felt like he was looking through a TV screen.

“And since we’ve no place to go...let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…”

Fuck. Shit. Roman started fumbling in his pockets for earbuds, but in his haste to leave the house, they were forgotten in his room. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

He could hear the silence of the store, but in the back of his brain he could feel the sound of gunshots.

“He’s alive, but he’s been hit around five times. Get him in the ambulance.”

He knew there wasn’t hands on him. He knew there wasn’t any blood, his or otherwise, on the floor. But it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

“Duck!”

There was no figure that caught Roman’s eye as they made their way to checkout. There was no moment of adrenaline as he tried to cover his sister, ducking for cover while people walking down the street also screamed. There was no glass breaking. There was no shots of pain as he realized the blood on the floor was his. There was no noise. No screaming. No sirens or commands being shouted or deafening silence that made Roman want to scream. It didn’t exist.

But it didn’t feel like it.

He didn’t know how to work his limbs, his body felt fake and his vision was just a TV screen looking at a world that felt anything but real. His ribs felt like they should be in pain for more than just his shaky breaths and his back should be cold from the hard floor instead of being supported by a cooler door.

What was the pattern again? Three things you can hear—wait, no, fuck, what was it? What was it?

There was blood going through his jacket and blood on his fingers. His thumb was cut from a piece of glass and he couldn’t move off the floor. As tight as he could, he kept a grip on his older sister. The hand sanitizers had sprawled out across the floor, the hands that were holding them now lied lifeless in Roman’s grip.

Roman heard something. More than the music, that stupid fucking music, but he could focus. He wanted to cough until he could breathe again, he wanted to be here, without a single doubt that history can't repeat itself. But trauma doesn’t work that way.

Shooting down on Taft Avenue. Four injured, one dead.

“Roman, hey, it’s just me, it’s just Virgil—shit, hey, it’s alright, focus on me. Let me get you out of here, okay? God you’re heavy, okay-”

It’s Virgil. It’s just Virgil. No Ellie, Ellie’s dead, Ellie’s been dead, it’s just Virgil, he’s here.

Thank God.

“Here, just listen to this for a bit. You’re the reason I have a Disney playlist, I hope you know that.”

They were in a car now. Roman could feel the pressure of Virgil’s bulky headphones on his ears, as well as the start up to Tiana’s “Almost There”, even if his hands he was staring at still didn’t feel like his own. The explosion in his chest lessened some, even if his breaths were still short and it was a miracle he wasn’t sobbing yet.

Virgil moved one of the ends of the headphones to the side. “Feeling a little better?”

Talking took so much energy, way too much energy, but he’d worried Virgil enough for one day. “...Yeah…”

“Do you need the volume turned down?”

“...Maybe.”

The music got a little quieter, and Roman felt his body relax a little more. He didn’t even realize it was overwhelming him.

“Alright...now, five things you can see?”

“Virge-“

“Five things you can see, fucker, let me help you.”

Roman let out a huff of a laugh, but looked around anyway. “Uh...you, carseat, wheel...um...the thing…”

“Thing?” Virgil looked around. “...You mean glove compartment?”

“...Yeah, that.”

“Okay, one more.”

“...Coat?”

“Alright, four things you can hear?”

“Music, heater, uh...I don’t know…”

“Can you hear me?”

“...Now I can.”

Virgil laughed. “That’s good enough, I’ll take three. Three things you can touch?”

“...Headphones, coat, seat.”

“Alright, good...two things to smell?”

Blood. “Pat’s air freshener, and the fact that you haven’t showered.”

Virgil lightly punched him in the arm, Roman letting out a small laugh through a shaky smile. “And I bet what you’re tasting is the fact that you haven’t brushed your teeth.”

“...I did not come here to get roasted.”

Virgil shook his head in amused disappointment at him, but started the car and put it in reverse. Roman sighed, looking out the window at the soft snowflakes and lights on houses that made his stomach curl. He hated this holiday. All it did was bring back bad memories, every corner surrounded in his triggers and nightmares increasing tenfold with the stress. He wanted to go home. He didn’t know where home was.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Roman looked over at Virgil, with his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel as he tapped nervously. Roman rubbed at his eyes. “Do you want to? I heard you and Remus.”

“This isn’t about me, it’s fine.”

“You’re my best friend and he’s my brother. It involves me too.”

Virgil didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on the road intently, and Roman wondered if he should just put the headphones back on his ear and let that be that. But he really didn’t want them to keep fighting, so it’s better to at least make an attempt, right?

Roman put the headphones around his neck. “We were buying his gift.”

“What?”

“The night Ellie died. Her and Remus had a little tradition of getting each other a gift and a gag gift. The older we got, the more inappropriate they became, which was very ‘them’, in all honesty. She had forgotten to get it earlier though, so she took me to the store at midnight on Christmas Eve so we could pick something out. And that’s when the shooting happened.

Virgil didn’t react, but Roman gave him a tired smile. “I’m fairly certain that’s why he gets so protective. He feels like he caused it somehow, so he tries to solve all my problems on his own. It’s sweet in its own way.”

Virgil hit the break roughly at a stop sign. “Well now I feel like an asshole.”

“...You were a little bit of a bitch. But I don’t blame you, since so was he.”

“I just wanna help you too, you know? I get it, he’s your brother and all that shit, but he’s not the only person who cares about you, so he can back the fuck off. Especially when he’s spending time in my fucking house.”

“You say that like three other people don’t pay rent.”

“It’s my house when it’s convienent to my argument, fuck off.”

Roman laughed, Virgil taking a turn to a stoplight and waiting. “I just want you two to work things out. We can talk once I go home, take my meds, and at least sleep for two hours.”

“Only two hours? You’re starting to become me, Princey.”

“It’s an anxiety disorder buddies thing.”

“Fuck yeah, anxiety disorder buddies. Who can’t wait for therapy to start up again.”

Roman pumped a fist up lazily. “Next thursday!”

“Next thursday mother fucker!”

They both started to laugh, the soft glow of the read light and the headlights of passing cars being strangely calming. Roman’s eyes felt so heavy, the glassy tears he still had sealing his eyelids together like glue. “Wake me up when we get there.” He mumbled.

“And if you have another nightmare?”

“We get there when we get there.”

Roman heard one last soft laugh before his body went still. He wasn’t completely peaceful, but at least he was sleeping. It would be enough for now.

Virgil didn’t wake him up when they got home. It took both him and Remus to be able to carry him inside, but they managed to do it without waking him up permanently. He moved, but at least he managed to sleep some.

When he wakes up, they’ll fuss at him for running away and Patton will hug him close for Roman’s comfort and his own. He’ll make Remus and Virgil talk peacefully about each other without too much complaining until they can at least stand to be in the same room as each other. Then when things are calm, the brothers will cry when they remember the date, and Patton will give them blankets and hugs while the other two stand around a little awkwardly until it’s lunch time. Neither of them will eat much, but leftovers exist for a reason. They’ll be taken care of.

But for now, Roman will sleep.

174 notes · View notes