Psychopedia

[kinobeans]

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[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Masterlist)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who’s clearly been through some shit).

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Polyamory, groupsex, sexual and non-sexual Dom/sub undertones, heat sex, praise kink, brief humiliation, Spanking, knotting, breeding kink, emotional abuse, physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, gluttonous fluff, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, unreliable narrators. Gender dysphoria, transgender characters, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy, slowish-burn,  

W/c: 600k+  

A/n: long time no see~ this is what I’ve been working on for the last few months! I hope everyone will like it. Updates will be once a week on fridays or Saturdays at 5pm EST. This will also be cross posted on Archive of our own. The M/c won’t appear until part two! 

ADDITIONAL CONTENT: 

Read the story here on Ao3

Content moderation policy 

Extra content: Honey cake Recipe 

BILY ask archive 

official bily playlist 

Teasers Archive: moodboards for each chapter

Prologue: The Beta 

Summary: The pre-story is as sweet as honey and as simple as every other love story. Namjoon’s pack falls together before it falls apart. 

Part One: Sweet Regret  

Summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places. 

Part Two: The Don  

Summary: On the worst days, Yoongi is judge, jury, and executioner. But he judges you and finds you worthy of protecting (and loving too).

Part Three: The Gala 

Summary: Yoongi tries to steal you away, Geumjae takes something instead. 

Part Four: If I’ve Got You 

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice. 

Part Five: An Unlikely Enemy 

Summary: Namjoon’s pack reunites with Yoongi. With some…unexpected results.

Part Six: Stupid Instincts

Summary: it takes three visits for you to trust Jimin. 

Part Seven: Yoongi’s Worst Fear 

Summary: it’s easy to forget that your bond is still new, but luckily, the pack is there to fill the gaps. 

Part Eight: Seokjin’s Secret

Summary: Everything takes a little getting used to. Namjoon’s a little in love already.

Part Nine: Aura  

Summary: Oh Jungkookie 

Part 10: Blame Me For it

summary: you couldn’t expect everyone to love you instantly, but still- yoongi kind of hoped.

Part 11: Before I Love You 

Summary: what is love other than a particular kind of envy? Hoseok envys you in more ways than one. 

Part 12: Civil Midnight 

Summary: A love story that starts with a train ticket, an old jean jacket, and a cup of shitty coffee.

Part 13: Moving Day 

Summary: Namjoon has royally fucked up, luckily the pack has a place to go. “what if this is a bad idea hyung?” 

Part 14: Like a Sigh 

Summary: Seokjin isn’t ready to forgive namjoon just yet, luckily he has you and yoongi to turn to for some good old omegan comfort (ie: cuddling)

Part 15: The many Shades of Kim Taehyung: Celedon Green

Summary: Tae is at one moment, overcome with fear and longing, “Get out! don’t look! please! i don’t want you to see me!”

Part 16: The many Shades of Kim Taehyung: Babygirl Pink

Summary: A secret for a secret is exchanged. “You’re so pretty Tae.” 

Part 17: Just a little Nip

Summary: Things are often clearer the day after, but if anything Taehyung only feels more confused about where she stands with you.

Part 18: Mine, mine, mine

Summary: Tae’s rut hits and hits hard, luckily the pack is there to soften its blow.

Part 19: Honey bunny 

Summary: discussions about your past cause some troubling facts to come to light, but amidst the sadness- there is also love.

Part 20: No Sinners

Summary: try as you might, you just cant get the idea of those sex-toy boxes out of your head.

Part 21: No Saints 

Summary: The thing about Jimin is that he’s a little bit of a psycho

Part 22: Playing Dead 

Summary: After finding you in such a compromising position, the pack has their questions (and a few confessions)

Part 23: Heart shaped Hickey’s 

Summary: you don’t know what you expected this discussion to look like, but Jungkook dumping his sex toy collection in the middle of the nest definitly isn’t it. 

Part 24: Cynosure 

Summary: if Yoongi could comment “first” on your pussy’s yelp review, he would. (he’d also rate it 10/5 starts, because whatever he expected- it’s twice as good.)

Part 25: Just Try 

Summary: You hate hospitals.

Part 26: Mommy issues 

Summary: getting drunk with Tae is a TERRIBLE idea, but it does lead to some surprising developments.

Part 27: The Dregs of the Midnight Coffee club 

Summary: A trip to a local diner at midnight prompts you and Hoseok to confront your budding friendship.

Part 28: Collars 

Summary: Since you’re officially on the way to getting better, namjoon and Jin see no reason why they cant give you what they’ve promised; an intimate look into their sex life- with Yoongi’s supervision of course.

Part 29: Jimin’s second secret 

Summary: Like a criminal undercover~

Part 30: Bubbles 

Summary: As Jimin and Taehyung’s date grows closer and closer, you’re confronted with one fact; you have nothing to wear.

Part 31: Strawberry Soda 

Summary: Taehyung thinks that girl dates are better than regular ones, but she could just be biased because it’s a date with you.

Part 32: Shaken, Not Stirred

Summary: Courting you takes some trial and error, but Jimin is more than willing to try as many times as it takes to get it right.

Part 33: Espresso Martini 

Summary: Jimin’s instincts are a force to be reckoned with.  

Part 34: Vodka, Rum, Or Jin? 

Summary: Jimin’s a possessive little fucker and after such a direct threat he’s got a messy way of staking a claim on you… 

Part 35: Stretch Marks

Summary: Your first scene as Namjoon and Jin’s submissive doesn’t exactly go to plan… but oh, poor Yoongi.

Part 36: Big friends, Small spaces 

Summary: In many ways, Yoongi was Jin’s first pup. “okay, not to make this all about me and my meltdown still but- i’m going to feel really guilty for like a week if you don’t actually fuck each other.”

Part 37: An untitled Playlist

Summary: A collection of moments, snippets in sequence, each that brings you closer. (Or alternatively: you and Jungkook figure out the pack hierarchy, Namjoon finds an alternative means of you submitting other than sex, and Hobi starts to fall in love with you, just a little.)

Part 38: Killing Kim Taehyung 

Summary: Everything sort of falls apart, but you and Namjoon help it all fall back together.

Part 39: Eulogy

Summary: “Do you think so lowly of me that I wouldn’t love you? Is this a joke to you? Am I a joke to you Tae?” 

Part 40: Slow Drip

Summary: Coping with the fall out looks like a lot of things; bitten comments and kisses and the prettiest pink nest that you, Jungkook, and Jin can create.

Part 41: Tae’s First day

Summary: Tae’s first day living as a girl looks a lot like this: salons, red nail-polish and…booby pancakes???

Part 42: Hobi’s Treasures 

Summary: Coming out isn’t always straightforward, Tae has her fair share of mental hurdles to overcome. Caring about you becomes harder for Hoseok to ignore.

Part 43: Noodle 

Summary: “Maybe that’s just what intimacy is- the context of us in another person’s life.” 

Part 44: Slow Love 

Summary: You should have come to Jungkook about your predicament with the pack alpha sooner. He’s got solutions and a box full of sex toys. “There you go- oh my god you’re soaking the pillow- guess you really like this one a lot huh?”

Part 45: Everything Everything Everything 

Summary: Namjoon and Jin are not amused by your foray into penetration, not one bit. 

Part 46: I Bet On Losing Dogs

Summary: Jimin’s third secret is (Redacted for spoilers) 

Part 47: The Girl Kind 

Summary: A visit to Namjoon’s hospital to get tae on some gender affirming hormones (good girl juice) leads to some…surprising developments. “You can’t just say ‘addictive slick’ and expect us to be on board with it!?” 

Part 48: Down the rabbit Hole

Summary: The day after your doctor’s appointment Jin gives you your first hole check.

Part 49: Before I need you 

Summary: Hobi has a bad day, you make it better.

Part 50: You and Hobi Bury a dead body (pt 1)

Summary: [redacted for spoilers]

Part 51: Emotions On Ice 

Summary: you’ve never seen Namjoon this angry before, but you can’t say he’s not rightfully upset at You and Hobi. Not every punishment can go according to plan…

Part 52: Sweet lemonade and Sour Chocolate 

Summary: Jimin and Jungkook might not be the /best/ at giving you aftercare, but what they lack in execution they make up for in sheer determination. Sometimes, love is the best medicine.

Part 53: I’d Do worse

Summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and Jimin reach an agreement.

Part 54: Losing Wings 

Summary: You don’t want your first time taking Namjoon’s cock to be during his rut, luckily- the pack is there to make the transition easier. 

Part 55: Sugarcoated

Summary: Namjoon’s rut hits, and hits hard. Not all of it is pretty. Not all of it is sweet.

Part 56: Crescent moon

Summary: In the wake of Namjoon’s rut you and Hobi try to get yourself back on even footing, if only his co workers weren’t so…creepy towards you. 

Part 57: Plastic Teeth 

Summary: You, Hobi, and a dead body are not things that Jin wants to think about in the same sentence.

Part 58: Don’t let this darkness fool you 

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development. The each have different ideas on how to help you (Some more damaging than others.)

Part 59: Missed call.

Summary: You and Hobi need to break each other one more time before you’re ready to heal together. Hobi needs to leave.

Part 60: Glass Slippers 

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and…Murder

Part 61: Light the Fuse 

Summary: 3 times you ask for help from the pack and 3 times help is given (and one time that everything goes to shit)

Part 62: Two secrets, One Gun

Summary: love becomes guilt, predator becomes prey, and Jin becomes…

Part 63: Fizz and Burn 

Summary: You never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this…

Part 64: Pawn and King

Summary:  “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”

Part 65: Lucky Gods 

Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it’s up to you and Yoongi to answer Namjoon’s questions.

Part 66: Go For the Throat

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Part 67: You and Hobi bury a dead body (Pt.2) 

Summary: [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS]

Part 68: Before I Leave You 

Summary: In place of the missing train ticket is a folded note, one that definitely wasn’t there before. “I’m sorry- I love you.” 

Part 69: Get off the train. 

Summary: The pack meet with moonbyul to discuss terms.

Part 70: Divine divine 

Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender. 

Part 71: Come Here

Summary: Freedom isn’t always a good thing

Part 72: Puppy Love

Summary: You ask to have a scene with Hobi…if only namjoon, jin, and jimin where more forgiving of your ‘discretions’ 

Part 73: Everything Yellow 

Summary: You are everything to Yoongi, he just had to remember it. 

Part 74: Dark Sweet Water 

Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.

Part 75: Hush little puppy (Don’t You Bite) 

Summary: Getting you home and into the nest before your heat hits proves to be a bit more of a challenge than Namjoon anticipated.

Part 76: Good Puppy, Bad Puppy

Summary: Your Pre-heat fever builds and builds and builds until it breaks.

Part 77: Keepsake

Summary: Tae and Hobi help Yoongi during your first wave of heat.

Part 78: Messy 

Summary: Hoseok is a good puppy, he’ll wait until the pack alpha gives him permission to breed you through your heat. 

Part 79: Thump Thump Thump

Summary: It’s Hoseok’s turn to breed you through your heat, but Namjoon won’t let him have it easily.

Part 80: Like you Mean it. 

Summary: “Come on hyung, fuck her like you mean it.”

Part 81: Loves Perfect Ache

Summary: Your heat is oh so close to breaking, but first, you need your whole pack even closer, but nothing seems close enough…

Part 82: Maraschino cherry

Summary: The first beach day of the season prompts both You and Tae to talk through some of your sadness. This time, you do something about it. “You’re so gentle. I don’t think you understand it.”

Part 83: The Pack in the Purple House 

Summary: soulmate bonds come in many shapes- like matching tattoos, picking the same house color, and mating bites… but those are no big deal right?

Part 84: Mr.Park

Summary: The thing about this world and ours is that they Occasionally overlap. Everything changes for Jimin basically overnight.

[yoongleboonglepie]

Pechsträhne Chapter 25

BTS x Reader

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word count: approx~34k

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A/N: Good luck.

Most ardently, Delyn

Chapter Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and death. Reader Discretion is advised.

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Time was just a blur of tiny green numbers illuminated from the car radio. There was nothing to go off of outside the windows on either side of her for the sun had set hours earlier. All Y/n knew was that her chest felt warm, her head was full of hazy pop lyrics from the 2010s, her fingers tingled, and her feet ached. That, and she was absolutely mesmerized by watching the headlights bounce onto the trees from the front windshield which she had a perfect view of from the middle seat, sandwiched between Jungkook and Jimin. 

Her head kept subconsciously lulling to the side and smushing against Jungkook’s shoulder, and each time it did he would look down at her with a creased brow and eyes rounded with worry. In return she would pinch  his cheeks and coo softly, attempting to place drunken kisses on his cheek with some kind of mumbled “You’re so handsome, s’painful.” To which he would blush and let out the smallest of chuckles with a squeeze of her hand.

Y/n knew she was intoxicated–not entirely drunk, but somewhere toeing the line between tipsy and something worse. Coherent enough to know where she was and what she was saying, yet softened enough by the handful of mixed drinks she had knocked back over the course of the evening to not care. Jimin was not much better off, his own head resting softly on her shoulder and his hand planted firmly on her thigh while he puffed even breaths, already sleeping. Namjoon and Yoongi were in the two front seats, the former having taken up being the DD for everyone that evening much to Hoseok’s gentle teasing from the back row.

Speaking of Hoseok, he had returned to the bar a few minutes after his little moment with an air of nonchalance that told her he wanted to forget whatever it was that had occurred. So she did. (Only after another heavy-handed drink but he didn’t need to know that). He too was almost passed out in the back seat behind them, forehead pressed to the cool glass and eyes half closed just in time for the car to stop in the driveway. 

Jungkook helped Y/n guide Jimin to his room upstairs and get him situated under the covers since he was of little help himself; constantly pressing lingering kisses to her shoulder, hands, finger tips, cheek–anything he could reach with little difficulty was appreciated with the gentleness of his mouth. Y/n took it upon herself to step out of the room and skip over to the laundry room to find him a fresh pair of clothes to sleep in for the night while Jungkook helped acquire a glass of water from the kitchen to leave on his nightstand. 

Y/n was elbow deep in summer breeze scented clothes when she felt a presence linger outside the laundry room door that was preceded by light-footed steps. She paused, and rose from the depths of the dryer to greet them–doing her best to ignore the sudden uptick of her heart and the hairs that stood on end. Doing her best to pretend the sound of someone approaching didn’t fill her with dread and have her brain mapping out ten different possible escape plans. 

Yoongi had paused mid-step on the way to his room, hands on their way to undoing the top two buttons of his black and white palm leaf shirt, and his cheeks dusted with a mildly intoxicated flush. Y/n stood ramrod straight, clutching Jimin’s shirt in her fists like a vice. 

“Oh! Yoongs! D-do you need to get in here?” She gestured to the machine behind her nervously. His presence doing the opposite of calming her down–instead it made her body thrum with a new kind of energy when he didn’t say anything back. He was just staring. Thinking. 

She thought she was imagining it. Imagining the way his darkened eyes drank her in with a dragging once over. Imagining the way he stepped closer. It wasn’t until her back hit the dryer did her heart and mind catch up to his proximity. The heat of him almost pressed against her front, and the hands he let stop on either side of her caging her in just loose enough for her to walk right through if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to. 

He said nothing. Neither did she. There was only the sound of her labored breathing and his carefully controlled exhales that filled the space, muffled by her own pulse drumming in her ears. Yoongi was so close that the loose tendrils of hair fell from behind his ears and tickled her cheeks and their chests bumped into each other with each breath. 

His face had deepened in color, and his tongue made an appearance with an overly slow lave over his lower lip that she wanted to taste. Yoongi hovered, mouth parted slightly over the corner of hers, breath fanning over her skin that smelt like mint and whiskey. Her abdomen flooded with heat that wasn't from the alcohol, and she could feel her eyes slipping closed without any fight. 

And then he was gone. 

Pushing himself off the dryer with a smirk so smug it would have made a narcissist cry with jealousy. He was still close, and she reached out for him with the slightest of whines, but he tutted his tongue with a condescending click. 

“Sorry sweetheart, but…I don’t remember you asking for it.” 

He sauntered out, grin wide enough to blind oncoming traffic, and finished his walk to his room. Leaving her desperate, hot, and dazed in the laundry room. Y/n didn’t realize how long she had been standing their wide-eyed and mouth agape until Jungkook rounded the doorframe with empty hands. 

Jungkook grunted from the doorway, brows furrowed and hand outstretched in a soundless request. “You okay?” 

Y/n nodded slowly and walked mechanically around him to Jimin’s room to drop the clothes off, but Jimin was already fully asleep under his covers, shirt be damned. Thus after a quick kiss to his forehead, she let Jungkook lead her down to his room with a sturdy arm around her waist. His proximity making her giggle for reasons she couldn’t place. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, closing the door behind him with a soft click. 

“Hmmm…I don’t know. Just you.” Y/n giggled again, drunkenly stumbling around the bed to the pile of clothes Jungkook had stacked on one of the end tables, neatly folded with perfect crisp lines. 

“What does that-” Jungkook scrunched his face up in defense, but his disapproval died on his tongue when Y/n let her skirt drop to the floor at her feet, kicking it off and to the side. Her top followed shortly after, and the silence was deafening from behind her. She grabbed a rather large oversized shirt she had gotten for herself from the store and shucked it on, but didn’t bother to slip on anything else. 

Y/n tried to walk around him back to her side of the bed, but he grabbed her elbow softly, using little force to turn her around to face him. He was close–hands grazing hesitantly up the outside of her arms like he wasn’t sure where to put them and his breath leaving his mouth in shaky exhales. 

“Is there something wrong?” She inquired with a coy tip of her head to the side. 

Jungkook swallowed. Then he shook his head ever so slightly and released his hold on her arms. Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little deflated–she was about to explode from all of the teasing she had endured as of late and just wanted someone to rip the band-aid off. 

“You’re drunk,” Jungkook said it like a gentle declaration. An explanation and an apology all wrapped up in two whispered words. 

“Barely.” Y/n rolled her eyes, flopping dramatically on the bed with a sigh. “Curse you for being such a caring and kind boyfriend. Always being so thoughtful and respectful. Sometimes a girl just wants to be disrespected a little bit–is that too hard to ask?” 

Jungkook removed his own shirt in one swift tug, replacing it with the exact same kind of t-shirt she had on so they matched. “Why would I be mean to you?” 

Y/n rolled onto her side to watch him swap his tight jeans for basketball shorts, admiring each inch of mouthwatering skin he showed her. “You’re acting like you’re not a little bit mean to me all the time anyway.” 

Jungkook quietly snorted, flicking off the lamp and pulling back the covers for the both of them. 

“I’m being serious.” Y/n crawled up to the top and settled on her side, waiting patiently for him to take his spot so she could snuggle right into his side. 

Jungkook gave her a sideways glance and guided her into position against his flank, one of her legs instinctively coming up to drape over him. “You want me to be mean?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe we can fuck around and see if we like that.” Y/n shrugged, melting into his embrace with a subconscious sigh. There were a few seconds of comfortable silence, just her enjoying the feel of her muscles relaxing onto the mattress and his body heat–that was until he abruptly rolled onto his side away from her, removing all of her access to his side. 

“W-what was that about? What is this?” Y/n made a lazy paw at his back with her hand. “Did I say something wrong? Hey…” 

Jungkook’s shoulders shook, and for a second Y/n panicked thinking she had made him cry. Then she realized that this little motherfucker was laughing. A cheeky little grin taking up his features and a silent laugh tumbling from his lips. 

“This is unbelievable.” Y/n shook her head with exaggerated disappointment. “I was being vulnerable and snuggling with you and here you are. Laughing. How shameful.” 

“You said you wanted me to be mean.” Jungkook looked back at her with a humored quirk of his brow. “So I took away your cuddles.” 

“Nooooo,” Y/n whined, trying her best to force him to roll back over onto his back. “That’s not the kind of mean I wanted! I take it back.” 

“Too late.” he laughed again and nosed into his pillow. “I think I might be comfortable.” 

“This is cold blooded. You know that?” 

“I’m warm.” Jungkook hankered down into the comforter for further emphasis. 

Y/n deadpanned down at him, flopping back onto her side. “Fine then. I shall waste away over here–alone. Without my strong handsome boyfriend to keep me company. Perhaps I shall wander upstairs back to Jimin. He would never turn down a good cuddle.” 

Jungkook rolled back over in a flash, eyes narrowed into a glare. “No. It’s my night with you.”

“Is it? I don’t know…seems like you don’t want it to be…would be a shame if I just….” She started to push the covers down and lifted on leg partially towards the floor but Jungkook was too quick. Arms wrapping around her middle securely and pulling her back under the covers. 

“No.” Jungkook maneuvered them back into their original position except this time he had both arms around her, and his chin pressed into the top of her head. “It’s my night. That’s the rules.” 

“Rules? What is this–a custody hearing?” 

Jungkook let out an amused huff. “Yes.” 

“Oh I see. Who was the judge presiding over the case? I have some choice words to share with them.” Y/n ran one of her hands through his hair absentmindedly, no real interest in going anywhere else. Teasing him was just too entertaining. 

“Me.” 

“You? And who was my jury? Do I get a lawyer?” Y/n let her hand fall lower to caress the sides of his neck. 

Jungkook’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Also me.” 

“Corruption!” Y/n feigned a scandalized gasp. “Corruption of the courts! I thought we lived in a democracy!” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder with a hand at the back of her head. “Sleep.” 

“After that kind of breaking news? The fall of our government?” Y/n’s words were smushed by his shoulder. “How am I ever to fall asleep?” 

“By closing your eyes.” 

Y/n grumbled as she resituated herself against him, one of his hands sliding down to rest on the side of her thigh over his hips and thumbing soft half circles there. They stared off into the darkness, the crickets keeping time to their breaths that started to even out. Y/n let her mind wander to whatever thoughts interested her, her eyelids never quite growing heavy enough to sleep. She thought of the upcoming morning and what they could possibly do all together–it was Monday, which would put them at almost four days of being at the rental. Alcohol hazed thoughts of Jin and the journal that had yet to arrive swooped into her brain, and she started to concoct plans of action she would probably have to take if it didn’t arrive soon. For one, she still had to tell everybody why they were here. Two, she needed him to keep up his end of the bargain–and if she didn’t, she would have to go find him at either the cabin or the hotel. She wondered, as thoughts of the golden glittering floors and heavy chandeliers floated in, if Jin had somehow reported all of their days off to the system or if they would all need to do that–perhaps her friends already had. Well, except for Jungkook. That wasn’t necessary for him anymore. 

His lack of employment made a heavy cloud float over her head and stay there. Guilt. It sobered her mind up enough to feel the weight of it.

“What’s wrong?” 

Y/n jerked her chin back up to look at him, his head tipped down to look at her expectantly. “I was just…” She debated lying to him, but knew doing so would be a futile effort. He would know. “I was just thinking about your job.” Y/n couldn’t look up at him anymore, pressing her cheek back into his chest and taking a deep breath. “And I just still feel so guilty about it.” 

Jungkook shifted below her, his thumb keeping on with its steady patterns against her leg. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times while he struggled to find his words–seemingly stuck on something. This was unusual for him. Usually he was blunt if not  straight forward. But it looked like something he wanted to say was hard for him to get out. 

“You don’t have to–”

“Have I ever told you what my dream job is?” 

Y/n was caught off guard by his question, her mouth open as she mulled it over, her mind coming up blank. No, she couldn’t recall him ever doing so. Not even when they were kids. He had said some unattainable childish wishes when they were really young, like an astronaut or a cowboy. But otherwise, he had kept those ambitions largely to himself, hidden behind half-hearted shrugs and unanswered questions. 

“No. You haven’t.” Y/n played with the fabric of his shirt, letting it pinch between her fingers and slip back out. 

Jungkook sniffed. “That’s because I don’t have one.” 

Y/n let his shirt fall from her fingers again with finality, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I don’t want to work. I never did. I never felt drawn to anything in particular like everyone else was. And honestly, I struggle with holding most higher level jobs. I know I could do them if I really tried–but I don’t see the appeal and it just feels so much harder to manage than everyone else. I liked house keeping because it was easy, and I didn’t have to talk to anyone.” Jungkook spoke evenly, albeit a bit shy. 

“Oh.” Y/n let her eyes wander around the room and listened to his steady heartbeat. “What else did you want to do?” 

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat, but his voice didn’t show it. “I thought about learning to paint. Or taking up a new hobby. But otherwise…” His heart started to pick up speed against her cheek, and he swallowed nervously. 

“‘Otherwise’?” Y/n repeated. 

Jungkook nibbled at his lip ring, running the tip of his tongue over it. “I always wanted to be something else. Something that I never told anyone about before.” 

“Oh? Go on.” 

Jungkook spared her an anxious glance then returned his gaze to the ceiling, his breathing and exterior as calm as ever but his heart was erratic. 

“It’s okay Kook, I’m not gonna judge you.” Y/n soothed, letting her hand flatten against his chest to comfort him.  "Unless you're going to say that you want to be a stripper–because why the fuck wouldn't you have told me that."

“I…” He took another deep breath, his cheeks burning under her suggestion that he otherwise ignored. “I always just wanted to be a stay-at-home dad.” 

Y/n short-circuited. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Not to say that the confession didn’t have her cheeks flushing, and her heart stammering inside of her ribs. “Oh…” 

“Yeah.” Jungkook finally turned to face her. “Does that make you…upset?” 

“No! Not at all! It was just unexpected.” Y/n chuckled breathlessly. “It’s actually kind of cute.” 

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at her. “Cute?” 

“Yeah. I think it takes a very kind, patient, and caring individual to want to do something like that.” Y/n answered honestly. “It’s very endearing. Cute.” She let her hand rest on top of the one on her thigh and threaded their fingers together.  “What about it makes that your dream job?” 

Jungkook hummed thoughtfully, soaking in her compliment. “I like taking care of people. I know I’m not always the softest. But I can be.” He flipped his hand over so he could hold hers. “I didn’t get a lot of time with my mom–not that it was her fault. But my dad was everything to me, and I want to be able to do that for my own kids. I want to spend as much time with my kids as possible.” He cleared his throat of an invisible ball and continued. “And as weird as this sounds–I find kids energizing to be around. Like I have a purpose that involves bringing life into the world and nurturing the living. Not just dealing with the dead. My hands can damn, guide, and disintegrate. Destroy. But they can also protect. They can fold blankets and build nurseries. They can do both." His voice fell to a whisper. “I want to be gentle. A giver, not a taker.” 

“You are gentle,” Y/n brought his hand up to her cheek, “Just because it doesn’t look the same as everyone else doesn’t mean that you’re wrong in how you express it.” She twisted her face to kiss his palm. “I think you’d make a great dad.” 

He smiled. Wide and genuine. The kind that made the bridge of his nose crinkle and his eyes gleam. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Y/n beamed back up to him, leaning forward to kiss him tenderly. 

“What about…” Jungkook trailed off, eyes flickering from her eyes back down to her lips. 

“What?” She pecked his lips again. 

“Everyone else.” 

Y/n paused, her mouth hovering over his. She leaned back to look into his eyes. “What about everyone else?” 

“Kids. Doesn’t that make things…confusing?” 

“Not to me.” Y/n shrugged, running a delicate finger down the side of his face and tucking a loose lock back behind his ear. “It just means we talk about it. I guarantee you Jimin could probably care less.” 

“It’s not just Jimin.” Jungkook breathed, his tone indecipherable. 

Y/n furrowed her brow up and tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?” 

“Y/n.” The look on his face was earnest, yet unmoving. Resolute. Knowing. 

“Oh.” Y/n curled inwards, recoiling in on herself a bit from the way he seemed to look right through her. “I’m not…I don’t know what it all means with everyone else. And I’m not pushing it–but I’m not fighting it either. I don’t have the bandwidth to do that anymore. Is that okay? Are you uncomfortable with any of that?” 

Jungkook appeared to taste the question with the way he set his mouth, his expression pinched into one of pure concentration.  “I’m…” 

Y/n waited on baited-breath, her hands subconsciously gripping his tighter. 

“I’m okay. I just want you to talk to me.” 

Y/n released a breath of relief. “Thank god. Are there any…questions you have? Any concerns?” 

“Not right now.” He assured her with a shake of his head. “I talked to Jimin and Namjoon about it a lot after last weekend. They helped me understand it all better.” 

“And if you have any more, you’ll ask me? That way we can work on it together.” 

“Yeah.” He looked at her like his walls were melting, and it was just the tender and honest version of himself reflecting to her in the faint blue glow of the nightlight. “Together.”

_________________________________________

There was only red. Everywhere. It was on her hands, on her clothes, beneath her nails. It smelt old, like dust and chemicals–and upon further inspection it didn’t seem to be blood. It was much too powdery of a residue to be liquid. 

She looked up from her hands to take in the room she was in–if it could even be called that anymore. It was destroyed. The beams were left naked and exposed, the vintage red colored wallpaper torn to shreds. There were more holes than there were walls. She could see straight through in some parts of it where the edges were blackened and singed from flame, the rest of the area beyond looking just as desolate. This place looked familiar even though it struck her to her core as wrong. Like the skeleton of a loved one, it felt simply abhorrent to look upon–the curves and shapes of their bones unmistakable, however hard your mind tries to deny its resemblance in favor of blissful ignorance. 

Y/n blinked, and like a curtain had dropped from her eyes, her friends appeared strewn over all of the broken furniture and the splinter floorboards. And just as quick, they flickered out from view. 

“No!” Y/n cried, rushing towards the splintered pile of wood where the closest body had been.  Her voice felt hoarse in her own throat. Different. Like it wasn’t hers. She panicked, the images of their slumped forms burned into the back of her eyelids, and without thinking she ran–tearing through one of the widest holes and landing in a long hall that spread out on either side of her. 

This was the estate. A very dingy, broken, and burned version of it. 

Through the darkened halls, she heard a scream. And then another. And another. An eruption of misery barraged her eardrums until they bled. Women, men, and children wailed and screeched, each of them different. Some were blood-curdling, others were harrowing and mournful; while the rest sounded enraged, using their voice to spread their wrath as far as the ear could hear. She clamped her hands over her ears and took off in the direction of the foyer, leaping up the stairs and away from some of the screams, but the others grew stronger. More familiar. 

Pounding steps chased after her over the deafening screams, and she ran faster–legs pushing her up to the landing where she floundered, unsure which direction to go. 

“Y/n! Help me please! I can’t hold them off!” Yoongi cried out desperately from her right. The sound beckoning her towards the hallway to the right. 

“ I can’t get out! I’m trapped! I need you–Y/n where are you?!” Jimin called desperately from somewhere below and she froze, her steps faltering. 

She spun around towards the landing again and called down to him. “Jimin! I’m coming! I just need to help-”” 

Jungkook let out an agonized scream from down the left hallway, cutting off any hope of her plan. “They took my eyes-I can’t see. I can’t see anymore!” 

“I don’t-I can’t-” Y/n clawed at her ears, Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon joining the begging screeches for help. She couldn’t take it–her head was about to explode and the room was spinning. 

“I’m hurt!” 

“There’s too much blood-” 

“I can’t see!” 

“They’re coming for me!” 

“I’m trapped!” 

“Help!” 

The heavy footsteps approached her from behind, taking the stairs one at a time. The weight booming with each step. It was a shadow, looming over her with a size that swallowed everything around it in darkness, the edges of it creeping through the room like storm clouds. It inched closer, the wisps of darkness offering whispered relief, its night-like shroud muffling the screams behind it. The swirl of mist hypnotized her. Mesmerized her. It pulled her in like a moth to flame. 

A door creaked open behind her, and soft footsteps halted at her side, and an even softer hand parked on her elbow. 

“Follow me, yes?” 

The short woman led Y/n away from the cloud and down the left-handed hall, straight into Jungkook’s room. Her touch brought forth silence. It brought forth peace. And once his door was closed, it blocked out all of the darkness that had once been–the walls in here were bright and clean, untouched by evil and flame. The window was opened to let in a glorious golden glow of sun. 

The room practically sparkled. Upon every flat surface were lush, freshly picked bouquets with soft petals and glowing blooms, giving the room the appeal of an ethereal garden.  Butterflies with luminescent wings fluttered through the air and bounced from bouquet to bouquet. One even circled about Y/n’s head before landing on a bulbous hydrangea in the bouquet nearest to her. 

Jungkook’s mother let go of Y/n’s elbow and smiled up at Y/n, beckoning her with the wave of a hand deeper into the room. She crouched down over a plastic bucket, the surface of the water strewn with plant debris and a big yellow sponge. She pointed to it, then to Y/n. 

“Wash.” 

Y/n–still shaken from the experience on the landing–shuffled to a crouch and dunked her hands into the water and lathered them with it, unsure if she was doing what she was supposed to. 

“No.” Jungkook’s mother smacked at the back of Y/n’s hands lightly and picked up the sponge. “I do it right. Watch.” 

She sloshed water from the bucket onto the floors with the hefty sponge, and moved it in swooping circles, letting the flower drunken flower petals smear onto the floor. The scent was sharp, floral, and earthy. Lemon was one of the ingredients for sure. The petals that floated on the surface were abundant–peonies, hydrangeas, roses, lavender–but there were other smells and particles she couldn’t place. 

Jungkook’s mother stopped, grabbing Y/n’s hand and placing the sponge in it. “Your turn.” Y/n mimicked her motions, letting the mixture drip from the sponge onto the floor and pushing it around in the same kind of circle. 

“Good.” The older woman slotted her hand over Y/n’s and ceasing the scrubbing, forcing their eyes to meet, looking back to the water one last time. “Your…grandmother. She show me.” 

“My grandmother?” Y/n gasped. “Margaret?” 

The woman shook her head with a dismissive grunt. “No. Older.” 

“‘Older’?” Y/n was taken aback. The only grandmother she had met was Margaret. 

“Yes. I said older, didn't I?.” She smacked her lips together a couple times in thought, looking at Y/n with a hint of uncertainty as she sounded out her next word carefully. “Pa…Patricia.” 

The door to the room burst open, startling them both and jostling the bucket so it splashed onto the two of them. 

“Ah!” Jungkook’s mother looked at the intruder with clear disapproval written all over her features. “왜 항상 그렇게 빨리 움직이는 거야? 천천히 해! 내 꽃들이 다칠 거야!” 

Seonggi, Jin’s great grandfather whom she recognized immediately from the photos Jimin had shown her, looked about the room with urgency until he found Y/n, completely ignoring their distress. At once, he clapped his hands in front of him like he was trying to get her attention and bounded closer to her.

“Wake up! He is here! Quickly!” 

Y/n’s eyes snapped open, her chest tight with residual anxiety and her head pounding.  Her fingers fumbled blindly for her phone, the time reading just barely a quarter to four in the morning. She had only been asleep for maybe three hours, a realization that dawned on her with a groan. Her frustration was short lived when flashes of her dream returned to her–her friends screams still echoing in her ears. She shot up in a haste, throwing the covers off and slipping out of the room as quietly as she could. 

She completed her nightly rounds faster, and more frantically than usual. The ominous final message of her dream made each press of her ear more desperate in its attempts to listen for their sleeping breaths or light snores. She had only just gotten to Namjoon’s door on the second floor when she hear the low rumble of an engine from out front. The sound sticking out like a sore thumb from the remote silence in the forest here. No one was driving by here unless they were trying to find them. 

“Wake up! He is here! Quickly!” 

Y/n moved as quick as her feet could carry her–flying down the stairs with such momentum that she collided with the front door in her haste, her hands slipping on the lock and door handle a few times before she finally pried it open. 

At the end of the driveway were two glowing headlights, the door propped open just enough for Jin to step out and reach the mailbox to slide a small brown paper package into its belly. Goosebumps traveled up her bare arms and legs, and her body moved on its own accord down the long gravel driveway towards him. 

Y/n had done such a good job of blocking out her mind the past couple of days that she could’ve almost genuinely forgotten their deal. Almost forgotten how stupid she had been, and the consequences she was going to have to face was she told everybody exactly what she had done.  

Jin looked up at the sound of her approach, shutting the mailbox door and leaning on the open door, one foot still propped on the car. He gave her a quick once over that he abruptly ended with a clear of his throat, his face flushing crimson.   “Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Y/n returned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t think you would be the one delivering it.”

“I wasn’t going to. But in order to keep things….” He trailed off, his lips quirking to the side slightly. “I just had to do it myself.” 

“Huh.” Y/n took a couple apprehensive steps closer, opening the mail box and unsheathing the package into her hand, weighing it in her palm. “Totally not suspicious at all.”  

Jin pressed his lips together in a thin line, looking from her to the mailbox, and then back to the car. “I should be going now.” He lowered himself back into the driver's seat and closed the door, and Y/n just stood there, watching him go through the motions of buckling his seatbelt. 

“Wait!” 

Y/n pressed a palm to the glass, making him jump almost a foot into the air. He rushed to lower the window and looked at her with wide eyes. 

“...Yes?” 

Y/n wasn’t sure what she was hoping to achieve by stopping him. She probably looked stupid with her mouth hanging open around lost sentences. 

“Seonggi.” Y/n finally managed to get out. “I saw him. He woke me up. Said you were coming.”

Jin was good at keeping his thoughts hidden. Good at keeping face. But in the harsh light of the overheads, she saw a crack whittle down from his brow to his mouth. A twitch here and a flare there. 

“Tell him to stay out of it.” Jin turned off his hazards and averted his eyes back to the road. “I have it covered.” 

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Y/n snarled and gripped the edge of the window like her life depended on it. Like her hands could keep the car from running if she tried.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Y/n spun on her heels at the bark of Namjoon’s indignation. His massive frame moving down the driveway towards them like a man on a mission. “Am I really seeing what I’m seeing right now?” 

“Goodbye Y/n. I’ll text you where to meet me for the second part of our deal.” With that, Jin gingerly removed her fingers from the side of his car and pulled it into motion with the tap of the gas pedal, leaving her alone with the fuming man at her side. 

She turned to meet his eyes as though her joints were rusted. Slow and awkward. Y/n offered him a weak wave. “Heyyy…”

“Don’t. Back to the house. I think it’s time you explain yourself.”

“It’s not what it looks like-” Y/n chased him up the driveway to the porch.

“That’s the best you can offer me?” Namjoon closed the door behind them, not even bothering to keep his voice down. 

“Because it’s the truth!” Y/n hugged the package to her chest to keep the distance between them bigger than it was. 

Namjoon scoffed, veering from the entrance way and up the stairs. “I believe that’s what you think is the truth. But you have to have the grace with me to understand that I have reasons not to trust you right now.” 

Y/n followed him up the stairs. “What reasons have I given you? Besides this one thing that I can very well explain.” 

“Plenty.” Namjoon grunted, rounding the banister and passing the laundry room with long strides towards his room that was across from Yoongi’s.

“Like what?” Y/n hissed, offended. 

Namjoon whirled on her, his eyes stern and aflame with broken patience. “Let me list them for you. One,” He took a step closer. “You ran off when we needed you the most. Needed each other the most. Just up and vanished with someone else’s car–not a single text or phone call. For over three hours.” 

Y/n swallowed. Hard. Her eyes starting to sting. 

“Two: when you did finally call, you were in the middle of nowhere by yourself, a huge ass rental under your name, and you hung up on us.” He took another step closer and she backed away towards the railing. “Three: The past couple days you haven’t been in your right mind. Skinny dipping in the lake? Pretending we are on some holiday vacation and that we didn’t just all almost die? Doing all of these eccentric activities when you should be resting? Skipping around, not eating, not sleeping–I can see right through you, Y/n. What you’re doing isn’t healthy. It’s not right. And I’m tired of tiptoeing around it. They all said it’d be best to let you get it out of your system, but I think you’re grown up enough to have a conversation about it. I understand you’re going through a lot inside, but I’m not just going to coddle you. I don’t believe in coddling. I believe in working things out before they grow into bigger problems.” 

Y/’s mouth was dry as a desert, everything she wanted to say withered and died under the scorch of his scold. 

“And four–do I even need to say it? What was that with Jin? What kind of deal did you make that you haven’t told us about?” Namjoon shook his head at her lack of response, retreating back towards his room to give her space. “I’m disappointed. I’m frustrated. And quite frankly, I’m ready to quit.” 

Y/n’s stomach dropped to her feet and she scrambled forwards to follow him. “What? You quit? Quit what? Being friends?” 

“Not being friends! But all of this–this-” he gesticulated his hands in wide circles “-this paranormal bullshit. This mission. All of it. I’m tired! Aren’t you?” 

“Of course I’m tired! But we can’t just give up! We have to keep pushing. We have to keep going. There’s no choice but to-” 

“Why isn’t there a choice?” Namjoon butted in. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but while you’ve been off playing in a world of make believe, the rest of us are still recovering from one of the scariest experiences of our lives. We were all almost killed. And instead of sticking together and trying to navigate it, you went on a shopping spree and dropped thousands of dollars on a fucking vacation home!” He dragged both hands down his cheeks and fixed her with a look so cutting it left scars on her soul. “Y/n–I need you to ask yourself: Are we doing this for all of us, or are we doing this for you?” 

Y/n couldn’t breathe. The package tumbled from her hands down to the floor and her teeth started to chatter together as adrenaline pumped through her veins. “What?” 

“Look I’m not trying to make you feel guilty–I just want us all to be on the same page. I need you to understand that if we drop out, it isn’t because we don’t care about you. We just can’t keep putting our lives on the line just so you can take over the hotel.” Namjoon’s stern mask started to crumble to the floor and his eyes glistened. “Maybe we just have to throw the towel in. If they are willing to kill all of us over this, maybe we’ve met our match.” 

Y/n’s eyes burned. Her throat was closing in and sticking together in the cotton that seemed to fill her esophagus and blockade her voice. She fought her way through it, nearly choking as she did. “And then what?” 

Namjoon seemed caught off guard. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean what I said. And then what? We give up, we go home and then I get slaughtered in the foyer? In the hall outside my room? My dad stays possessed for the rest of my life and I never see him again? Our parents tear us apart? I get excommunicated from the family again and kicked to the curb? Stepped over and forgotten about?” Y/n felt the tears running hot down her cheeks, and this time she stepped towards him. “I just lay down and die somewhere?” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Namjoon groaned in exasperation. “If we just stop they will stop retaliating.” 

“You don’t fucking know that!” Y/n wiped furiously at her face. “They tried to kill me the first time when I wasn’t even doing anything yet!” 

“But you were! You were digging already!” 

“Because It’s my life! I can do what I want! You want to live a life with your head bent and your back ready to be stepped on?” 

“It would mean we’re alive!” Namjoon’s voice boomed through the hallway, surely waking up everyone on the second floor. Y/n jumped back towards the railing, hands gripping the wood until the skin on her knuckles felt like it would split. He never yelled like that. 

“Look. I don’t want to yell at you. But you have to see where I'm coming from-I don’t have powers. I don’t have a skill to work on that I can use to protect myself when things get hairy. I’m blind in those situations. Thursday? I was separated and vulnerable. I couldn’t hear, see, or touch whatever it was coming for me until my ancestors stepped in. Not only does that put me at risk, but it also makes me a liability. ” 

“I’m sorry you feel that way. You’re not a liability and I keep trying to tell you that. But that day wasn’t a fucking cakewalk for me either!” 

“You had everyone else!” Namjoon retorted. 

“No! I didn’t!” Y/n was yelling now too. “I didn’t have anyone at first! I had to go find help! I had to claw for it–fight for it myself! I had the-” 

“Enough!” Yoongi’s door swung open with enough force to smack the wall. “It’s fucking four in the morning!” He stormed out into the hall and pointed a finger at Namjoon. “I told you not to push it.” 

Namjoon sneered at him, his words dripping with sarcasm. “I was willing to wait until I saw her standing outside at the crack of dawn with Jin of all people.” 

Yoongi released a heavy sigh, and turned to her with a dangerous glint in his eye. “You were doing what?” 

_________________________________________

Oh, how Y/n wished to go back to the night she first got here–galivanting through convenience stores and skipping through a brand new vacation home. Instead, she was surrounded in the living room, the seven of them littered around the sectional couch, except for Namjoon, who insisted on carrying a chair out from the dining room to sit in front of them. Her hands pulled at the soft fabric of the couch against the back of her thighs as though she could burrow herself right through the cushions. 

No one spoke. 

Namjoon was still buzzing with frustration from their previous argument. It’s ironic, because Y/n had been sure he would’ve been one of the easier ones to explain herself too before their arrival–but the roles had gone all topsy turvy. Jungkook hadn’t even looked too interested in scolding her since they had gotten here (yet), and Yoongi had already defused himself before they arrived. But Y/n was hiding a match in her pocket while swimming in a room full of petrol. Who knows how they’d feel if they knew where she had been that first night, and what lengths she had been prepared to go to. All eyes were either on her, or wandering around the room and away from Namjoon. It was impossible to look at him without shivering. 

“If you keep looking at her like that, we're not going to get anywhere.” Yoongi finally broke the silence. 

Namjoon shrugged. “I’m waiting for an explanation.” 

“I don’t have one,” Y/n grumbled.

“Bullshit.” Yoongi snipped.

Y/n took a deep breath and ripped it off like a band-aid, taking the metaphorical match out of her pocket and sending it blazing straight into the oil. 

“I went to see Jin. In a cabin…In the woods.” 

Yoongi’s eyes slipped closed and he palmed a face over his eyes with a disapproving shake of his head from where he leant up against the wooden wall behind them. Jimin was still processing her stupidity, and Jungkook was already clenching his fists at his sides. Taehyung still looked a bit lost but did not dare ask for clarification when the room was so tense. 

Hoseok was the only one to say anything, his leg shaking uncontrollably and his hands dragging his stress down his face. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ…” He leapt up and beelined straight to the kitchen, and she could hear the distinct sound of him twisting the cap to the rum she had bought and pouring a good amount of it into a glass. 

“And?” Namjoon prodded, eyebrow poised, eyes sharp enough to cut. 

“I went there to find my mom. I couldn’t just stay behind and wait around anymore. I wanted to…I wanted to just end it all.” Y/n swallowed, averting her eyes around the room. “Everyone was freaking out and talking about leaving–I didn’t want you guys to have to leave. If anyone should have to leave it should be me. I figured it out on my own before and I can figure it out again.”

“Did you find her?” Namjoon clenched his teeth ignoring the rest of her ramble. 

“No,” Y/n answered, shifting in her seat. “I called Jin, and he gave me an address to a cabin to meet him at.” 

“And you just went?” Jungkook sounded betrayed from his spot next to her.

“Of course I just went! I needed to do something! I needed to–” Y/n cut herself off with a frustrated groan, twisting her fist in the sweatpants Yoongi had tossed for her to put on before waking everyone else up.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes on her. “Needed to what?” 

Y/n snapped, the energy that thrummed in her over the previous days rising to an unbearable height, clawing its way out with another groan that made her throat feel scratchy and her hands tug at her shirt like it was burning her skin. She stood abruptly, pacing between the coffee table and the couch. 

“I needed to do whatever was necessary to make this all stop! If she would’ve been there, I don’t know what I would’ve done! I could’ve–” Y/n broke off from saying the unforgivable, hands curled out like vicious claws doing enough to finish her sentence for her, her outburst startling even herself. “You don’t get it! Every single one of you was dead for all I knew. I had to choose between who I went to next without knowing if the rest of you would still be there when I came back. She doesn’t just get to walk away from that and enjoy herself in who-the-fuck-knows-where! You!-” she gestured wildly to Yoongi “-were covered in red. I thought you were bleeding out for a good three seconds before I saw that it was wine. And you-” she twisted to look at Jungkook on the chaise behind her, “you were actually bleeding out. I thought I was going to have to choose between getting you help and helping them.” She spun on them, wild and untamable. “You can all be pissed at me for whatever is going on inside of me right now and the dumb way I’m handling it–but god I just don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to feel anything that has to do with it, and I sure as hell don’t want to remember a single second of that. Of the pressure of having to make that fucking choice. So yeah, I went to the cabin by myself, because I would’ve rather died there and taken her down with me than have gone back to that cursed house and pretend that even just the thought of seeing the basement door doesn’t make me want to throw up.” 

She wasn’t finished, she just needed to catch her breath because it felt like it was far away. It all it felt too real all of the sudden. It was as if someone had dug out a hole beneath her feet and she was falling–fast. Carving out a cave in her chest that felt deeper than any low she had ever felt, her hands and feet went numb and her ribs felt like they were collapsing. She pushed on through it, because once she finished, she concluded her reward would be running to the nearest lake and drowning her sorrows in it. Hopefully, the cold water would knock her back into oblivion. 

“It was just Jin there, and we made a deal. A stupid deal–one that I didn’t think through and jumped into way too fast. But it felt like something, and it felt right. So fucking shoot me for going a little crazy after it all and making another bad decision.” Y/n fell back onto the couch in her seat, curling in on herself. The previous want to be touched had vanished, and now she felt like if someone touched her she would combust. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to run.

 “What was the deal?” Jimin asked, his tone even and still somehow calm in the midst of all the chaos. 

Y/n grimaced, and the stretch of her cheeks made her realize they were wet. She wiped at them forcefully, then did a sweeping gesture of the house they were in, then down to the package on the table in front of here. “This. Stay here for one week, we get G-min’s journal. Stay here for two, he gives us something better.” 

“What was it?” Jimin asked again.

“That’s the funny thing,” Y/n laughed at her own expense, the condescending nature of it directed at only herself. “I don’t know. I took a leap of idiotic faith that whatever was in this little mysterious pouch he showed me was worth it. That this isn’t a trap or some kind of sick setup. What would you have done? If you were offered answers to everything after today?” 

“I would not have run off, that’s for damn sure.” Namjoon scoffed. “You scared the hell out of us Y/n. The last time you ran, we didn’t see you for years. Vanished from the face of the earth with vague suggestions from your mom to block you and move on. Yoongi said you looked unpredictable–Hoseok said you felt dangerous. I’m not disregarding what you went through that day but c’mon Y/n! Let us work as a team. Don’t start spewing idiotic ideas that are all based around you not being here. There’s a solution that can include all of us if we just work together instead of taking off at a moment’s notice.” 

“Stop!” Y/n clasped her hands over her ears and bent down to her knees. Jimin tried to rest a hand between her shoulder blades but she recoiled from the touch, jumping from her seat and  making for the exit of the living room before she could even realize what she was doing. It hurt–her chest hurt. It felt agonizingly unbearable. She wanted to yell again–to get behind the wheel and press down on the pedal to chase that high she felt earlier. Her behavior was erratic and she knew it–but she couldn’t stop it. She felt cracked. 

“You just said you wanted to quit. You don’t get to go around saying we need to work as a team and making me feel guilty!” Y/n cried. 

Jungkook looked from her to Namjoon, panicked. “What? Why would he quit?” 

“Because he thinks it might be the only solution.” Her body pivoted again, looking at them with her hands still clasped over her ears. “There isn’t another solution, don’t you get it? They’ve made that clear. If I’m around, either I die, or you die. I’m not–I’m not playing that game anymore. This is my fucking problem. It’s my family's bullshit that’s hitting the fan and spraying all of you with its rot. I’m not saying this hasn’t been hard on all of you–but goddamnit I’m fucking tired. I’m pushed into a corner. I’m suffocating under it all. It’s my body that gets beaten, and used, and invaded, and my mind that they’ve infected in every way possible. And now they’ve left a scar so deep I don’t think I’m ever going to recover–and one I can’t get help for. How the fuck do I go to a therapist and say ‘hey! I genuinely thought everyone I loved was dead, because my mother controls demonic ghosts and all of her attempts to kill me fell through. Can you help me?’ And to finish it off with a bow, I can’t even sleep because I just keep reliving it over and over again in my dreams. Having to choose. Having to find you. And no matter what I do I never make it in time! I’m going fucking crazy. Every move I make, one of you has something to say about it or one of them does something about it. I get scolded for trying too hard, I get pressured to go harder. I’m told to rest, and then when I do shit happens and I’m reminded why I shouldn’t. I make a move, and one of you is pissed at me for trying to do something, and another one of you is cheering me on. We move as a group, and they retaliate.” Oh, this hurt, but it felt so good. Yelling into the room felt good. The thought of the lake still felt better.

“I don’t like telling you what to do–but I’m going to since everyone else in the world seems comfortable offering me their two cents, well intentioned or not. Jin and I booked us this house, and we are all going to stay in it together if you want me to have any kind of sanity. You can hate me, be pissed off–you don’t even have to look at me for the rest of the trip. But what you aren’t going to do is scold me like a child each time I do something you don’t like, or tell me what I can or can’t do because I’m a little out of it right now. I want you all to enjoy a comfy bed, sleep there, and stay where I can see you and know you aren’t lying dead on some floor where I can’t get to!” 

She was shaking. Her entire body shook and the last of her high faded with a punch to her gut. And it was in that moment that she finally understood what Yoongi had meant in the bathroom on their first night. The delusion of perfection had finally fizzled out, and it left her with the realization that it had only been an illusion of good. A mirage of hope. It was painful and exhausting, a cloud of forced joy to shield her from how hard the ground felt when she hit it. 

Y/n shakily brought her eyes up to meet Yoongi’s, and she could tell that he knew. He could probably see it chewing her up and swallowing her whole. She felt guilty for yelling. Guilty for running. Ashamed of how she acted impulsively, embarrassed of how she behaved. Echoes of her mother’s comments on her being too emotional and unpredictable slapped her across the face. And worst of all she felt dark. Achingly dark. Like her insides had been scooped out and filled with cement.

“That’s enough,” Yoongi pushed off the wall and came between them, cutting her line of sight from the rest of them. “She gets it. We get it. It’s fucked up, and everyone sucks. Now let’s move on to something more productive.” Yoongi stood in front of her, and gestured with his chin out into the living room. “You, apologize for yelling.” 

Y/n felt a series of tears fall from her cheek, and she whispered out into the room a string of multiple apologies that couldn’t seem to stop coming. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry….”

“Good, now you-” Yoongi pointed to Namjoon. “Your turn.” 

“I’m sorry for letting my anger get the better of me.” Namjoon sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I’ll…I’ll keep trying to do better.” 

“Perfect.” Yoongi clapped his hands together. “Now everyone go back to bed. It’s five in the fucking morning and we were out late. We will revisit this shit later with coffee and another four hours of sleep.”

 

_________________________________________

They definitely did not end up revisiting it in four hours. She was the one to blame, for the moment her body made contact with Jungkook’s mattress, she was out like a light. The world could have burst into flames and the fire licking at her skin itself wouldn’t have been enough to wake her. Every time her eyes struggled to open they would slip closed and another hour would go by. 

She wanted to believe it was dreamless–but it wasn’t. Though someone wanted to let her think it was, because when she’d try to force her eyes open, she could only remember the feelings of the dream: the desperation, the terror, the rush. No visions accompanied the sensations except for snippets of petals and plant matter drowning in herbal-scented water, and moisture-pruned hands swishing it about on hardwood floors.

Y/n tried to rouse herself again, this time going as far as to sit herself up and shake her hands out, though her eyes still weighed heavy. The driving force to get herself moving was the gnawing hunger in her stomach that threatened acts of violence on anyone who got between her and a good meal. 

The bed was empty save for herself which was unusual. She could vaguely remember whether Jimin or Jungkook being next to her each time she tried to wake up, but never was she alone. She swapped the t-shirt for a soft hoodie and slipped on one of the new pairs of sneakers she had gotten for herself. 

She crept to the door and propped it open, craning her neck around the space to see if anyone was still around–but the communal spaces were all empty. It’s fine. Everything’s fine, Y/n reassured herself when the fears began to creep in like ominous gray-bellied clouds. Y/n made her way around the living room just to be sure, noting that the package with the journal in it had been swiped from the table at some point while she was asleep, and then through the kitchen. The counters were strewn with torn plastic containers and an empty meat tray, a couple of the cabinets left slightly ajar, and a stack of plates left in pristine condition on the counter. 

Smoke and grilled meats wafted in from the cracked window, flooding her system with relief and guiding her feet out the door and around the side of the house where the grill and fire pit were located. For some reason she felt nervous. She didn’t want them to see her with her eyes still puffy from how much she had cried earlier. Didn’t want to have to face them after the reality of the risks she had taken really set in. 

“Y/n! I was just about to come wake you up.” Hoseok was already walking in her direction, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose and a plate full of foil wrapped potatoes stacked in a pyramid. He gestured for him to follow her in, and she did so wordlessly, holding the door open for him to enter first. 

She helped him place them onto individual plates and top them with an ungodly amount of butter and salt. After the trash can was full of empty foil wrappers and their forearms lined with plates, she followed him back out the door to the outdoor tables where the rest of them seemed to be lingering around, a plate of grilled meat and vegetable skewers in the center of the table. 

No one brought up what had occurred that morning–in fact it was like the outburst hadn’t even happened at all. The only indicator that it had was Namjoon’s sheepish smiles he kept sending her way. It was nice to just be with them, surrounded by good food Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung had helped prepare and good conversation. Persistent as ever, that empty hole in her chest that had been dug out earlier still stung, and left everything dull and faraway. It was as though she was watching it all from outside of herself and not through her own eyes, and everything she said or did was under scrutiny from invisible judges–thus she said very little. 

The food tasted fantastic, one of the best things she had eaten in days, and her plate was clean for the first time since she had arrived. They spent the evening circled around the firepit just enjoying the quiet atmosphere until her clothes smelt like smoke and her face burned from how dry it got. 

It was close to midnight by the time they all retired to their rooms for the evening. Y/n could only stand laying with her eyes open in Jimin’s bed for so long before she found herself wandering already, her fingertips tapping on her collarbone and her ear pressed to each person's door. Most nights after that though, Jungkook and Jimin seemed to make some kind of unspoken arrangement where if they felt her get up, they would corral her back to bed the moment they noticed her absence. So she slept for a good portion of the day, and spent her nights trying to roam or talking nonsense with Jimin and watching movies on Jungkook’s phone until she fell asleep. 

They still spent their days doing activities, just not one’s so grand or as many. Focusing more of the relaxing kind. Well–that was until Jungkook got his stitches removed the following weekend, and he was able to join in on all of the adventurous activities. All of which they had plenty of time for since Hoseok had rescheduled his appointments to a later date to enjoy their time together. The first thing on Jungkook's agenda was challenging Jimin and Taehyung to a rope course race since he didn’t get to do it the first time (which they both lost, obviously).

Namjoon seemed to have entirely forgiven her, their communal outburst having done wonders–and he was back to his (mostly) normal self, if not a little more apologetic than usual. Whenever he would join them for an outing, he would always swipe some kind of plant sprig or flower from somewhere and offer it to her, usually emboldened by a handful of science or spiritual facts alike in some sort of peace offering.

When Monday rolled around again, it seemed that someone had taken the opportunity that their time off offered them to start a certain…promised prank off if you will, that lasted approximately 2 days before Yoongi forced them to call it quits when he had an accidental run in that involved Tree, Jungkook, and a very unlucky pair of sweatpants. So the two of them settled on a board game tournament to settle it that Hoseok and Taehyung ended up joining in on.

It was Thursday night when she finally made her first successful escape from Jimin’s room to do her nightly rounds-the itch that she couldn’t help but scratch being soothed with each press of her ear. That would be what she would’ve thought if when she reached Yoongi’s room, she hadn’t been greeted with an overwhelming weight of silence. No breathing, no scratch of a pencil or flip of a page. Nothing. 

Her hand was already on the door handle and pushing it open before she could register the breach of privacy, exposing his empty room that showed no sign of him. The rest of her route was a blur after that, so much so that she almost missed the fact that Hoseok’s room was empty as well. 

Y/n skipped panic and just went straight to crying, tearing through the house in a blind terror. She had begun to lose all hope when each spot left her empty handed when she caught a glimpse of light from one of the windows, and she was gone. Racing out the back door onto one of the decks that overlooked the sloping lawn and peering down at where Hoseok and Yoongi were crowded over the outdoor table below with their heads bent over a book. 

“Yoongi? Hoseok?” 

Both heads turned at her call, shining their flashlights up to her in their surprise. 

“Hey, what are you doing up?” Hoseok hollered out to her first. His voice was like honey to her ears, soothing the ache behind her eyes from how much they burned.

“What do you think?” Y/n returned pathetically, beelining for the steps down to the grass and approaching them as fast as her feet could carry her. 

Yoongi didn’t even get one sarcastic word out before she had her arms thrown over his shoulders from behind and her face buried in his neck, breathing him in and feeling his warm and very much alive skin against her cheek. “God–Don’t you scare me like that again!” She released him from her bone shattering hold and rounded the table to Hoseok who received the same treatment. “You two scared the shit out of me! Why are you out here? I didn’t–I couldn’t find you!"

Hoseok didn’t say much, just moved a foot to the side so she could slide onto the bench next to him, one of his arms tossed over her shoulder to keep her close to his side while she calmed down her breathing and her unruly heart. Y/n was right about one thing from their first night–Hoseok was warm, and she couldn’t deny how nice it felt to press the outside of her thigh to his and let the heat seep through his sweatpants onto her night-chilled skin. The two men continued to speak in hushed tones to each other like they were before she arrived, letting her just be there while they pointed at different sections on a page of G-min’s journal. 

The sight of the inked pages had her shaking her head of her panicked stupor and gasping. “What are you guys doing out here?” 

Yoongi paused, and looked up at her interruption impassively. “Working on this.” He flipped the journal so she could read the passage, his finger sliding along the words. “A lot of it doesn’t make any sense. But around here, it really starts to not make any sense. I think he's trying to say something, but I just don't know what. Look.” 

‘The spider in the corner is my friend. He says good morning to me and I say it back. The water is clean but the land is filthy. Muddies it up until you can’t see. She speaks to me but I can not hear. Skip seven times. Impressive. The feathers look so broken, I can’t catch them all–I want to. I found the prophet and he tells me so. Tells me so he tells me so. I don’t like writing. I will draw them out instead.’ 

Y/n hummed as she read, her eyes getting stuck on something in the middle. She pulled the book closer to have a better look. “Wait a minute…” 

“Is somethin’ tripping your trigger?” Hoseok asked, tipping his chin down to gesture towards it. “I’ve been trying to channel some kinda feeling on it but I just feel lost, or frustration coming from it. Like I’m trapped and can’t find a way out.” 

Y/n read part of it allowed, her brain on the precipice of something–but what she couldn’t tell. “‘I found the prophet and he tells me so’...’I found the prophet…’ The…” Y/n scowled at the paper, pinching the edges between her fingers until it nicked the skin of her thumb and she yelped. “Jesus!” She shoved the digit in her mouth instinctively and then brought it out on the table to look at the damage. 

“Don’t damage the merchandise,” Yoongi joked dryly, sliding the journal back towards him. 

But Y/n didn’t hear him. Her eyes were trained on the faint scar on her palm from when she had supposedly sliced it open with a piece of mirror when she had fought with Yoongi. Back when she was possessed. A memory she couldn’t recall. In seconds the thought had a memory she could recall springing forth–one of the last few she had before succumbing to Candida. 

“Why don’t I walk you down to the greenhouse, yeah?” Jimin stiffened ever so slightly but hid it behind the sweetest of smiles, and took no time to snag his phone and wallet from his desk. “We can see if Joon is awake when we pass his room.” 

“I guess…” Y/n willed herself to remember anything from the two hours that had just seemingly vanished from her mind. The harder she tried to picture them, the further away they felt–there was only nonsense wheeling around her head like a mobile. Find the Prophet. Find the Prophet. Find the Prophet.

“That’s it!” Y/n suddenly jumped to stand, her paper cut forgotten. “Find the prophet!” 

Yoongi blinked up at her from his seat. “Ooookay….And that means?” 

Y/n whirled to face Hoseok. “Can you see things in people if they can’t remember them? Like if I gave you a date and an approximate time could you pull it from me?” 

Hoseok pursed his lips with a shrug. “Possibly. Kinda sounds more like Tae's thing.” 

“We should get Taehyung up to help then, too. I think this…” Y/n trailed off, something in her gut coming to life and sending her intuition into overdrive. “No-I know this is important. I know it is!” 

Y/n was taking the stairs two at a time before they could stop her, and dragging a half-awake Taehyung by the elbow back down them in less than a minute. She pushed him in the spot next to Yoongi and reclaimed her seat next to Hoseok, face hot and out of breath from all of the running. 

“Okay hear me out. Taehyung can see images from past, present and potentially future through his dreams. He seems tired enough to channel him. And you, Hoseok, we can use your touch to channel our target for the exact time we want to pull up–which in this case is me. I’m going to focus on that morning, and I want you to pull it out of me and send it to Tae.” Y/n was speaking at a mile a minute, and they all looked at her like she had two heads. Yoongi was keeping up, but just barely. He already had a protest poised on his tongue. 

“Y/n we don’t have the circle set up, we can’t just–” 

“-Yes we can! We have to! Set up a mental one and give me your damn hand!” Y/n snatched Hoseok’s from her side and rested hers palm up on the table for him to take. “Just trust me.” 

Yoongi muttered a few curses, sliding his hand into hers and grabbing for Taehyung’s. “You are unbelievable, you know that? You did so well with your little Hermit Crab lesson on your own yet now here you are, disrespecting it to my face.” 

“You just make disrespecting you so easy to do,” Y/n quipped back, earning a bark of laughter from Hoseok. 

“What are we doing?” Taehyung squinted at them, his eyes practically still glued shut. 

“We need to use your dream powers. Hoseok will channel what we want to see to you, so all you need to do is close your eyes and Hoseok will try and send it back to us.” Y/n explained simply. 

Taehyung raised his brows but succumbed to their directions, laying his head down on the table and letting his eyes slip closed. "If it means I get to sleep..."

Y/n focused all of her energy on the memory of that morning–or the lack thereof in this case–giving everything she could to the time before and the time after it while opening herself up to Hoseok’s energy that prodded at her mind gently. The sound of crickets and distant owls filtered to white noise, and then they were suppressed altogether.

Y/n was in her room, freshly showered and rolling up her socks at the ass crack of dawn. She was watching the scene play out like a movie screen, watching herself tuck her feet into work boots and grab for her phone to check the time. When her hand touched the edges of her phone, the motions of her body switched from fluid to clumsy. Eyes glazing over and her body teetering from one side to the other. Then she started to walk, each step clunky and robotic, out of her room and into the dark hall that was only just starting to glow from the early morning shine. She stumbled straight across the hall and into Taehyung’s room which was thankfully empty, stopping at the edge of his messy bed to stare at the wall above it, like she was admiring the old painting of the vase of flowers that hung there just long enough to make it seem unnatural. When she finally moved again, it was doll-like. Creeping over to his closet and slowly opening the door to rummage through the clothing cubbies close to the floor with overt expression in each limb. She knocked his shoes down and spilled the folded t-shirts onto the floor at her feet like a woman on a mission. Like she was searching for something and knew exactly where to find it.

Y/n seemed to find what she wanted, dragging the cubby out of the way entirely until her fingers snagged on the floorboards and lifted one of them up clean off. Y/n bent down, stretching her hand down into the rafters and coming back up with her fist clenched around something too small to be seen through her fingers. With her treasure found, she kicked the floorboard back in place and moved the cubby back where it had been, not bothering to try and put the clothing back like it was. 

She trudged like a zombie back out into the hall, moving down through the darkness until she reached the old playroom doors, pushing them open and stepping in. The brightly colored carpet sank beneath her boots, the shoes creating indents of the path she walked to the center, where she waited, hand outstretched to no one in offering. Her fist opened, and a circular object made of rainbow and silver dove from her hands towards the floor where it vanished into thin air just before it could clamor to the ground. And then Y/n waited. 

The glass paneled door crept open a little more behind her with the entrance of someone unseen, the intruder not willing to make themselves known to the physical eye. Their presence whooshed about like ice, circling, plotting–closing in. 

“I don’t think it will do you much good, walking around so late at night.” G-min hobbled in from the hall, looking just as she remembered him when she he was a kid. Short in stature with similar eyes to Yoongi’s, hands clasped behind his back and his pace always leisurely. “I think it would do us all better if you went back to sleep.” 

He took two thin hands and placed them on her shoulders, steering her out into the hall, not with a call back to the energy making its home in the playroom. “I mean it. It’s time to rest. You and I will have a word after this. After all I went through to keep that thing hidden…” 

G-min ambled behind 'Y/n', hands on her shoulder blades so she wouldn't run. “And you. I have a mission for you. You want to help us all? You find the prophet. You hear me?” 

“No!” Y/n hissed through her teeth. 

G-min paused, rounding her body to face her head on, keen eyes joining in on her face. “What was that, hm?” 

“I said…” Y/n’s voice sounded modulated and scratchy. Demonic. “I said no.” 

“Oh dear…” G-min clicked his tongue in disapproval and wagged a finger in her face. “This is unacceptable behavior. Bad. You better pull yourself together before I do something about it.” 

“Oh? And what would that be, old man?” 

“If I tell you it will ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?” G-min retreated to his spot behind her and started pushing her forwards once more at a snail’s pace. 

“I hate surprises.” 

“I know,” G-min sighed. “But we can’t always get what we want.” 

'Y/n's' body locked up, the same cold breeze from the playroom floating after them and furling itself around her. “He is coming.” 

“Of course he is, ah.” G-min shook his head. “Then we better get you back somewhere safe. How about…” He cast a glance to her door, but then decided against it. “Yoongi is gone, I'm afraid so that way would do you no good. Let’s go this way instead, yes?” He spun them around to trek across the landing, cheering like they were taking off on a rollercoaster and not a midnight stroll. “Here we go!” 

They rounded the corner to the right-hand side hall and inched past Hoseok’s door, the older man humming a familiar tune all the way. The more he touched her, the more the real Y/n could see in the vision. Ani was flattened against the wall outside Jungkook’s room, cowering away from 'Y/n’s' approaching figure. Patti paced aimlessly from door to door, raising her fist to knock but never quite reaching the wood in time before her feet carried her away with little attention given to the two of them. One of the twins was intent on mocking Ani from the other side of the hall, making twisted faces and snarling out childish insults. She stopped, having found something better to do instead, zooming up to G-min’s side and following in step with them. 

“Say old geezer, care to let me play tag with her? If I win–I get to eat her!” The twin jumped on the balls of her feet and clapped her rotted hands with joy. “Wouldn’t that just be delightful!” 

'Y/n’s' neck twisted with inhuman speed, her jaws snapping together and her eyes alight with gold. “You keep your distance, Inga. I have little interest in playing games with you.” 

Inga curled her lip in disgust. “No need to be so uptight! I wasn’t-” 

'Y/n' lurched forward, bringing their faces closer together so her eyes shined brighter. “Don’t disrespect me, sister. Remember where I come from.” Inga recoiled away from her with a whimper, melting into the wall behind her and out of sight. 

“No need to be so stuffy.” G-min scolded. “That is no way to treat a child.” 

“I know not how to treat a child.” 'Y/n' dug her heels into the rug to keep G-min from pushing her any further. “Lest we forget who I am.” 

“I have forgotten nothing.” G-min gave another firm shove, sending them a few inches further down the hall. “It seems maybe you have.” 

'Y/n' growled, but said nothing further. 

“Have you lost your mind?” G-min and 'Y/n' both turned at the sound of a newcomer, Seonggi Kim, moving with his shoulders squared to shove the other wandering spirits out of the way, his hands and wrists draped with needed chains. “What do you think you’re doing getting involved in Wörner business?” 

“Taking a walk. Can’t you tell?” G-min grinned at him, hands still clasped on her shoulders. 

“I see that–but why?” Seonggi moved closer, shielding 'Y/n' from Ani’s quivering stare. 

“Because he enjoys tormenting me,” 'Y/n' seethed. 

Seonggi gasped, one of his hands grasping for the string of beads and whipping them out at the speed of light, snapping them down on the skin of her forearm with a sharp sting. “What on earth-”

'Y/n' brought one hand up to her forearm, the flesh scalding hot where the beads had struck. “Why must you always be so…insufferable?” 

G-min pat her arm lightly, and did the same to Seonggi who leapt back from the touch. “Now now, let’s not fight. I was just telling this young lady she needed to get somewhere safe.” 

Seonggi still looked scandalized, eyes as wide as saucers. “She’s…She’s…” 

“I’m well aware,” G-min chuckled, his attitude much too light for the environment they were surrounded in. “I was just telling her that she should find the Prophet. Don’t you agree?” 

Seonggi visibly shivered. “Are you implying that we should-” 

“Of course I am.” G-min waved a hand at him. “Don’t waste my time asking such nonsense at a time as dire as this. We are running late.” 

“Late for what?” Seonggi inquired. 

“He is coming.” 'Y/n' spoke again, 

Seonggi turned furious. “You do not get to speak so freely, demon! He is too kind to you I fear.” 

“Why is everyone so grouchy today, huh?” G-min chastised with a quick smack to his wrist. “I move too slowly. I need your help getting her to the end of the hall, yes?” 

For a ghost, Seonggi was still able to visibly pale. “I-I can not p-p-possibly-” 

“You can, and you will.” G-min lilted. “ Now get her to Jimin’s room. I will distract them.” G-min turned to start waddling off back to the landing. “Remember, there is still an eligible Wörner in there. One that may blur those lines you try so hard to keep. Draw some pictures for me if you have the time young lady, I think you’ll find them to be…quite enlightening. Don’t be afraid to ask me for advice! Good morning, and goodbye.” 

Seonggi huffed out a sharp displeased breath through his nose, and pinched at her elbows with two fingers like she was poison ivy to spur her into motion and away from the old man. “This is ludicrous. Blasphemy. I can not believe this.” 

“I am enjoying it no more than you are,” 'Y/n' scratched out. “Say, perhaps if you tell me to find the prophet, I just might do that.” 

“Absolutely not.” Seonggi was able to move them a lot faster towards the end of the hall. 

“Not even for the girl?” 

Seonggi stopped, hands digging into  the meat of her arm. “That isn’t fair and you know it. You have no right to speak of her.” 

“I speak of who I want.” 

Seonggi flipped her around and stared down at her with vengeance. “Whatever you are planning must come to an end at this instant. You have tormented us enough.” 

“What do you see with thine eyes when you look at me, Kim.” 'Y/n' brought one hand up to splay over his face, hovering but never touching. “What do you see…Prophet?” 

Seonggi swallowed thickly, his eyes narrowed in on her. “You know I no longer claim that title. My time has long since passed.” 

“That’s a shame.” The voice coming from 'Y/n’s' mouth almost sounded genuinely disheartened. “I was hoping you could see me.” 

“I can see you well enough.” 

“Can you?” Y/n poised, the demonic tilt of her voice taunting. “Can you really?” 

“I can. You are nothing but a parasite. An evil that haunts these halls and tempts fate deeper into ruin. A mark on our legacy.” Seonggi spat through his teeth. 

“If a parasite I am, then I must have a host. Tell me, do you see my host? Is she worthy of this fate?” 'Y/n' stepped closer to him. “Will you stand by and let history repeat itself when the wound still lingers so fresh upon your own heart? Or will you remain a bystanding coward?” 

Seonggi looked like he was about to burst, but before he could unleash himself on her, footsteps–human footsteps–sped towards them. 

“Y/n! What are you doing out here?” Jin was in casual clothing, his sleeves maculated with broken leaves and plant debris. He was doing his best to keep his steps and voice quiet while still rushing towards her, his head bent low like he was hiding from something-or someone. “Taehyung said he saw you-” His voice faded, eyes bulging from his skull as they took in his Great Grandfather still standing next to her. 

Seonggi looked conflicted. Like he simultaneously wanted to reach out and strangle his great grandson and pull him into some kind of awkward embrace. “Seokjin. How unexpected.” 

Jin glanced back over his shoulder apprehensively, then moved forward to grab 'Y/n’s' shoulders from Seonggi with a tight lipped smile. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Don’t touch her! She is compromised!” 

“She is my friend.” Jin corrected him softly. “I’m not breaking any rules.” 

Seonggi’s face turned red. “Not breaking any rules? Have you lost your mind?” 

“Go away. I have this under control.” Jin tried to steer 'Y/n' back down the hall whence they had came, but she stood her ground with a crooked smile. 

“Oh no–I am more interested to stay and witness a family quarrel.” 

Jin furrowed his brow at her voice, and stared straight into her golden eyes. “You’re not Y/n.” 

“I am.” 

“No…” Jin looked devastated, unable to find his footing with his words. “You aren’t. What–what have you done?” 

“Not enough.” 

Jin scanned her face, each round getting more desperate and crestfallen. “No…” 

Seonggi placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and tried to pull him away. “It’s too late. We must not intervene.” Jin let himself be pulled backwards, his hands falling like dead weight to his sides. “What’s done is done.” 

“Will you end me here?” 'Y/n' took a threatening step closer to him until their chests nearly touched. “....Prophet?” 

Jin swallowed down whatever he was going to say next with a gulp. The silence was so loud it weighed heavily like water, and drowned them just as such. Without warning, he crashed his palm to her forehead, something cool and metallic in his fist burning with his touch. Y/n yelped, her voice melting back into its normal tone with each passing second. As the sun began to rise, he gripped her shoulders, shaking them fervently to try and wake her up–the real her. The floor beneath her feet began to shake in time with his shoves, and a deep, guttural growl from below echoed through the hall and rattled the walls.

Jin brought his lips to her ear and whispered urgently into them. “Sleep, creature. I command you to sleep.” Y/n’s eyes melted back to their normal shade, though they grew heavy and slow. “And Y/n, for the love of god and all that is holy, do not find the prophet. Whatever they told you–don’t.” Y/n’s eyes began to close and she slumped into him as the growling grew in volume, and he shouldered open his bedroom door and shut it behind them. She was already falling to her knees with sleep, curling onto his floor near his door, sinking into unconsciousness. 

He draped something cold over her face, a chain of beads that smelt of frankincense and roses, and laid his hand over the crown of her head. “You will wake when I tell you to.” 

Y/n’s eyes  could barely hold themselves open, stuck in a state of constant flickering between their normal shade and a bright glimmering gold, her voice torn between shredded and soft. “What is wrong with him, hmm?” 

Jin lowered himself to sit with his back against his door so he could keep watch over her until he deemed fit. “He is damned.” 

“No,” Y/n’s body released a ragged sigh, Candida’s spirit fighting with all its might to keep her awake. “He is not. He can’t be. I need him.” 

“No you don’t.” Jin shook his head dejectedly. 

“Yes, I do!” Candida brought her fists down onto the rug beneath her fists in a pathetic show of defiance, the mirror on his dresser rattling against the wall. 

Jin straightened himself up, his eyes shining with new found resolution, and he crawled over to her to press two fingers to her forehead. “Sleep, Y/n. Go to sleep. Find G-min first. Please, don’t find the prophet.” 

Y/n slumped down into a heap, and the vision flickered to blackness, the feeling of her friend's hands in hers returning slowly to her. Through the darkness, she heard an urgent whisper beckoning her forth back into the daydream, the air whistling into her ear sharply. 

“Wake up!” 

Y/n’s eyes shot open just as the vision of Jimin opening the door to her that morning started to replay, and she yanked her hands from her friends and took off for the stairs, ignoring their calls for her to come back. She skittered through the house until she found one of the notebooks she had purchased as well as one of the empty sketchbooks, returning to the table with her friends to scribble down every detail–every word or inflection she could. When everyone agreed on the recount of it all, she slid the sketch book over to Yoongi and the journal to Hoseok. 

“That is the closest to answers we’ve ever gotten. I’m too fired up to go to sleep now.” Y/n scoped out the rest of the faces at the table. “All in favor of having another go?” 

Yoongi and Hoseok raised their hands instantly, Taehyung was definitely more awake now–but not any less confused. They all looked at him and eagerly awaited his decision. 

“I have no idea what we are doing but if it helps you all with your weird ghost shit and means I can stop having these visions–I’m in.” Taehyung relented, hands held up in surrender. “Just try and catch me up to speed on this a little bit before I’m unknowingly diving headfirst into something freaky, please.” 

“Will do,” Y/n grinned, her excitement growing in her belly. 

Yoongi took up the pen she had used to write out the memory of the vision and tapped it to the sketchbook paper. “While you two do that…In that vision, G-min had said something about drawings…” His eyes flickered up to Hoseok, raw vulnerability laced with determination. “I think I know what he wants. Let’s start there.” 

For the next two days, it was all hands on deck. All seven of them would sit around the outdoor table, a circle of all of the assorted scented candles the rental had to offer used as makeshift protection circle, and Jungkook's intimidating presence enough to keep any ghostly stragglers away. Hoseok would channel G-min from the journal, drawing upon his friend's energies to push him as far as his body would let him. Then, when Hoseok would describe a vague painting or sketch that G-min was showing him, Yoongi would counter it with a roundabout date or time that Taehyung would try digging in further to see the artwork in its entirety. 

Yoongi was precise in all of his estimates–never taking more than a few moments after Hoseok’s clunky descriptions to pull forth something for Taehyung to shoot for. 

“It’s…some kind of like…some kind of blue blob with…eyes? Horns? Curvy lines?” Hoseok’s tone tilted upwards in a question at the end. 

“Descriptive." Yoongi would click his tongue in dissaproval. "Hmm. That one was from the wintertime. It’s one of the few that I was able to take before all of his stuff went missing. I have it in one of my folders back home. I think the date on it was from 2009…January perhaps?” Yoongi turned to Taehyung next. “Is that enough?” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “I mean a date would be best so I’m not just dropped into a random day–but I’ll give it my best shot.” 

Yoongi took that as a challenge. “Fine. Try January 19th, 2009. See where that takes you.” 

Namjoon was already waiting, one of his portable bottles of drowsy tincture in his hand that was stuffed in the bottom of his bag he had thought to grab before going to the hospital the first night. “Drink up.” 

Taehyung opened his mouth just enough for a single drop to fall on his tongue, not enough to entirely knock him out into spiritual oblivion, but enough to send him into a dreamlike state. “Yeah yeah. There’s no way that he just pulled that from his–” Taehyung cut himself off, his cheek resting on the table and slurring his words together. “Well tickle me purple…it was the 19th.” 

“Ew. Please never use that phrase again.” Y/n scrunched her nose in disgust while unlatching her colored pencil case. Jimin and Hoseok snickering at her comment, tossing in their own playful grievances with his choice of words which Yoongi quickly hushed so he could focus. Her, Jungkook, and Yoongi were on drawing duty. Meaning the three of them would do their best to each recreate one of the art pieces Taehyung would show them, that way they could do three at a time instead of one. 

Jimin and Namjoon were used as conduits, their energy both feeding the depleted batteries of her friends and acting like the connecting pieces from Taehyung to Hoseok, and then to the artists on duty. As a team they made a machine that worked fluidly, taking breaks to fuel themselves only to go further than before when they returned.

Everyone felt the pressure. Time was closing in on them. Their stay was coming to a close the next day, meaning they would all have to return to the estate and hit the ground running with nothing but a collection of drawings, a journal, a new collection of Hawaiian shirts, and whatever they thought they knew before they left. The journal was invigorating to all of them–the kickstart their team needed to feel a semblance of control–to feel like they were doing something. Even Namjoon seemed to regain his drive, the thrill of progress and discovery reigniting him from within–he was a man of science after all, and he could never turn down a pursuit of knowledge. No matter how unorthodox this one may be. His friendly spark was back, and the warmth in his smiles and the rounded sound of his laugh during their evening campfires told her as such.

Yoongi on the other hand was shutting himself out. Each description from Hoseok or shared vision from Taehyung started a battle within him that Y/n could feel in his silence that stretched long into the evening. There was no way to imagine how it must feel to fight so hard to connect with a loved one, only for them to not mention you a single time. None of the drawings or visions were of him. They were mostly abstract pieces of color and shape with the occasional identifiable object thrown in it like a tree or an eye. None of them meaningful, none of them quite hitting the mark. Still, Yoongi put his faith in the process, sitting with his back bent over the sketchbooks and his face a perfectly poised mask of nonchalance or playful sarcasm day in and day out. But  sitting so close to him made it impossible not to see the hope shrivel up from his eyes or the stiffness in his posture whenever Hoseok would describe just another blur of color, or another one of G-min’s older drawings. Hope that it would be him–hope that he would have something to say to him after all of this time.

As more and more drawings were produced, it became apparent that they weren’t all preexisting memories, but some were entirely new blends of color or charcoal that were given to Hoseok to describe–like it was G-min himself guiding him from the journal. This only stung more for Yoongi who had yet to have any direct contact with him himself.

Sunday evening came before they could blink, and with their bellies full, they all huddled about the table again as they had been. Each person fell into place with practiced ease, arms and hands overlapping like some kind of interconnected puzzle that made perfect sense to them and no one else. Hoseok took the journal in his hands, flipped through the pages, ran his fingers over the dog-eared corners, and followed the golden swirls on the cover with a pointed finger. And they all waited, pens and droppers at the ready.

Hoseok furrowed his brow, his fingers stilling on their path, and his jaw clenched for a few moments. This was not a part of their usual routine. He restarted his motions from the beginning and stopped with the same result. He opened his eyes and carefully lowered the journal back to the table. 

“There’s nothing left.” 

“What?” Yoongi looked from his hands to the journal. “There has to be more. There has to be. What we have doesn’t mean anything yet.” 

Hoseok gave him a sympathetic shrug of his shoulders and a noise of agreement coming from the back of his throat. “I get that, but what I’m telling you is there’s nothing left. Zip. Nada.” 

“Keep trying.” Yoongi challenged, taping the end of his pen against the paper in a blur of speed. 

Hoseok shook his head, but still decided to humor him with another try. And he really tried–pushed himself until sweat beaded his brow and his hands flushed red and visibly radiated with heat. He opened his eyes with hissed curses, shaking his hands out like they burned. “Shit–Look man, I’m sorry. There’s nothing left.” 

Namjoon stepped forward, picking up the stack of completed drawings and flipping through them, and Yoongi’s leg started to bounce enough to shake the table. “Maybe we aren’t looking at these the right way–maybe there’s something we missed. I’m sure there is more to this than meets the eye. They were so adamant about hiding this stuff from us, it can’t mean nothing. What if we look at it–”

Yoongi abruptly stood from the table, jostling the drinks and scattering the pile of colored pencils onto the ground. He snatched the journal from Hoseok and took off, long purposeful strides moving him across the lawn towards the trees, and when far enough away from them for his liking,  he flung the journal on the ground and screamed. Not one that was high-pitched or forlorn–one anchored in fury, grief, and rage. It came from deep within his chest and clawed its way out. It must’ve hurt coming out as much as it had holding it in. 

“Fuck! We were so close! Come back you coward!” Yoongi kicked the grass up beneath his feet with another outraged cry, throwing his head back to the sky and pointing a finger to the clouds as though they could hear him. “You come down and finish what you started! Mysterious rules be damned. You don’t just get to leave again!” 

Y/n ran after him, grabbing his hands before he could bend down to fling the journal any further. “Why don't we take a deep breath and just-” 

Yoongi wrenched his hands from her and stumbled a few steps back. “No! He needs to listen. He deserves to hear it!” He tipped his head back again and shouted with all of his might, and it was at that moment that Y/n could see the tears pooling in his lash line against his will, hot and uncontrollable. “This can’t be it! All the time I spent trying to find him and this is what he gives me.” 

“Yoongs,” Y/n captured him in a crushing hug, holding his arms down against a fight he didn't have left in him to give. “I’m so sorry Yoongi.” His shoulders shook against her, and his next cry came out shuddered and broken. 

“You got to see him. Hoseok got to see him. Jungkook got to see him. Hell, even Taehyung got to see him. But I didn’t.” He fell to his knees and dragged Y/n with him, turning so his head was buried in her shoulder, his hands gripping onto her hoodie like she too would fall away at any given moment. “He forgot about me again…” Y/n couldn’t do anything else but hold him. Even when little rocks dug in her knees or her legs felt numb, she stayed there. She refused to be the one to let go first. 

Jungkook’s boots crunched over the grass when he approached, shifting from foot to foot above them, looking unsure and entirely out of his element. He lowered himself to the ground one knee at a time, hovering inches away from them, one of his hands suspended over Yoongi’s shoulder before he seemed to decide on letting it rest there. 

His other hand grabbed for the journal, picking it up and running it open to one of the pages in the beginning. “I read my mom’s journals all of the time. To me it’s like I’m spending time with her–seeing her most vulnerable self. Something you have to do is remember that there’s a chance they never intended for you to read them in the first place. You can’t look for answers directed at you  in a book they never thought you’d read.  But sometimes if you look hard enough you can find yourself in there…” Jungkook lifted the book up and read a passage aloud. 

“I’m stuck looking at my walls day in and day out. My friends are the loose nail above the door, and the spiders in the corners that spin their webs at night. This is the end of me, I’m afraid. Sometimes if I’m lucky, I can hear the ocean; and it speaks to me in tongues I used to know and reflects lovely pictures off its surface onto my walls so they seem less lonely. It gives me something better to look at while I wait for him to return with the tide the next day.”

Jungkook lowered the book back down to the ground and cleared his throat. “I know it’s not the same. I know it’s not what you had hoped to read or find. But you’re in here. Even when he didn’t know it was you–he put you in here because you meant something to him.” 

Yoongi didn’t lift his head from Y/n’s shoulder, but she felt him take a deep breath, and felt the wetness pool on the fabric of her hoodie. After a few moments he sniffled and let out a weak chuckle. 

“He was never good at saying he loved me outright anyways. Always had to be fucking weird about it.” Yoongi lifted his head enough to wipe his eyes. “Since when did you become so insightful, huh? Trying to take my job?” 

Jungkook smiled, offering him the journal to take. “No. Just trying to be a better friend.” 

Just as the words left his mouth, Jimin came swooping in, diving onto the grass beside them with a grace he could somehow always manage. 

“Did I hear someone say group hug?” 

“No, you didn’t. Literally no one said that you idiot. I thought you had super hearing?” Yoongi deadpanned, the stuffiness of his nose making his words less intimidating than he had hoped, and Y/n wanted nothing more than to pinch his cheeks and bring him in for another hug. 

Jimin’s grin grew from friendly to teasing. “What was that? You said you wanted it?” he turned back over his shoulder to call out to the others still loitering on the lower deck. “Hey guys, Yoongi said he wants a group hug!” 

“Don’t you dare!” Yoongi couldn’t make it a few inches before Y/n pulled him back into her chest with an uncontrollable giggle, Jimin throwing his arms over the two of them from the side and dragging Jungkook into it. 

Taehyung came in next, a wide grin on his face as he joined in. “I know I don’t know you as well, but what  better way to get to know each other~" 

“Don’t worry, you fit right in. Just as grating and bothersome as the rest of them.” Yoongi grumbled from within the pile. 

Hoseok came next, settling for just slinging one arm over the huddle. “This one sounds a hell of a lot nicer than my last group hug. Ya know, since it was with a demon. Gotta cleanse my palate.” 

“Too bad, there is a demon in this hug and it’s ME.” Yoongi huffed. 

“I guess it’s weird if I don’t join in,” Namjoon feigned an exaggerated sigh, his own smile showing just how much he was relishing in teasing Yoongi for once. 

“See isn’t this nice, Yoongi?” Jimin sang up from the middle of the group.

“No, this is torture.” Yoongi hissed through his teeth, though for some reason he didn’t seem to be shoving them off as hard as he probably could. “Alright–alright ENOUGH! You’re suffocating me!” 

He finally managed to free himself and stood up, shaking himself out like he wanted to rid himself of the residual touch of them surrounding him. “That was vile. Never do that again.” He turned to stomp off to the house, but the remaining group couldn’t help but howl out a few last teasing jabs at him when they noticed his ears were bright red, and he wasn’t crying anymore. 

"He loved it~" Y/n said to Jimin from behind the cover of her hand, sharing mischievous laughter they couldn't stifle.

"No I didn't!" Yoongi shouted from the deck, ramming open the back door and slamming it closed behind him.

Hoseok gave them a knowing look. "He so did."

_________________________________________

Y/n tiptoed out onto the deck and into the porchlight, the sky black and littered with twinkling stars. Everyone else was in bed like they should be–as discovered by her nightly check–everyone except Yoongi. The deck was damp from the soft drizzle of rain, pushing her to move swiftly across the wood and down the stairs, pulling the throw blanket she had snatched from the living room tighter over her shoulders. 

From over the banister she could see Yoongi reclined on the knitted hammock tied up between two of the closest trees with the thick stack of drawings discarded below him to shield them from the rain, letting the droplets spray across his cheeks and speckle his hair with his eyes closed. His lashes would twitch every now and then when a droplet much heavier than the rest landed too close to comfort, but otherwise, he looked like the textbook definition of a peaceful slumber. Y/n snuck closer, tugging at the blanket around her shoulders to bring it into her fists, fully prepared to toss it over him and leave him be. 

“Whatever bullshit you’re planning–don’t.” Yoongi drawled lazily. 

Y/n winced, feeling guilty for waking him. “No bullshit here. Just trying to cover you up a bit so you don’t catch something.” 

Yoongi exhaled sharply through his nose. “You? No bullshit? Color me surprised.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, I can be perfectly loving and gentle sometimes.” 

“I’m choosing not to believe it.” 

“Well, consider that a challenge.” Y/n let out a breathy chuckle and flung the blanket over him, taking the time to tuck in the edges with a little extra oomph than necessary. “See? Gentle and loving.” 

"Geez, I think you're going to leave bruises with your 'gentleness.'" Yoongi cracked one eye open. “Why are you so persistent?” 

“Invasive species, remember?” Y/n pointed to herself with a lopsided grin. “‘Persistent’ is in the job description.”

Yoongi let both eyes open to peer down his nose at her, watching her hands move around his outline in a much gentler manner to tuck the blankets in, his words accusing but his tone held no sharpness. “I’m not a child you know.” 

“You don’t have to be a child to earn the right to be treated with gentleness.” Y/n let her grin melt into something softer, and booped his nose. “You should know that by now.” y/n let her gut guide her forwards, landing a tender kiss to his forehead while bringing the blanket up to his chin. 

Yoongi gulped, his eyes glassy. “I thought I had to ask for that?” 

“Not this time. Sometimes you just deserve it.” 

There was a lull in their conversation, an empty space filled by the pitter-patter of rain against the leaves above them, and for a moment she had worried that she had pushed it too far. Y/n made a move to leave, but Yoongi stopped her with a clear of his throat. 

“Wait-” He shimmied himself into a seated position so there was more room, letting his legs hang off the sides. “You can come sit for a bit if you’d like.” 

“And I don’t have to ask first?” 

“Nah. Like you said, sometimes you rarely deserve it.” 

“That isn’t what I said,” Y/n giggled, plopping in the empty spot next to him, the nature of the hammock forcing them closer. 

“I think it is exactly what you said. Are you doubting the psychic?” Yoongi stretched his arms up, letting one rest on the edge of the hammock behind her–the perfect display of nonchalance if it wasn’t for the bright pink color to his cheeks. 

“I have reasons to be skeptical…" Y/n leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. All of the humor had left her system–replaced with a rush of butterflies in her stomach that fluttered around her insides and set her heart to a new pace. She spoke again, her words coming out in a whisper. “Is this…Is this okay?” 

Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat that could be translated as agreeable, and the heel of his shoe tipped them back and forth in a soothing rock. Raindrops gained in speed and size, the boughs of the oak and pine trees over them blocking most of it from giving them an impromptu shower. Y/n wondered if she should say something to him–maybe offer him words of comfort or reassurance. A pep talk to encourage him to keep going with their efforts. But she wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear, or if he even wanted to talk about it at all. He was always better at knowing what to say to her and not the other way around in her opinion. Instead, she settled for some kind of middle ground first. 

“So I’ve been meaning to ask…” She started easily. “Where did you guys hide Bear after we left to take Jungkook to the hospital?” 

Yoongi blinked, then a small smile wormed its way on his face. “I thought you knew he was here.” 

“What? Really?!”

“Yup.” Yoongi gave a couple of real squeaks of laughter. “I’m not surprised you haven’t heard from him. He and the other soldiers have been enjoying the modern-day privilege of streaming services having a fuck-ton of historical documentaries in the basement. I am a bit surprised you haven’t even tried to explore the basement during your zombie walks.”

Y/n’s jaw was still hung open in shock. “There’s a basement?”

That made Yoongi laugh hard enough to fall forwards, making the hammock swing dramatically back enough to make her clutch his hoodie to keep from falling off. “You booked this place and didn’t even know there was a basement?!” 

“Where’s the entrance???” 

“Near the hallway closet with all of the cleaning supplies.” Yoongi smirked. “Not that you’d know where that is either.” 

“Oh. No wonder I didn't know. I just assumed it was another linen closet or something.”  

They fell back into another comfortable silence that felt a bit less stiff now that they had shared a good laugh. The silence let her doubts creep back in again, her mind racing to come up with some kind of way to offer her support for what happened earlier with the journal. Yoongi was never beating the mind reading allegations to her, breaking the ice into the topic smoothly so she wouldn’t have to. 

“I’m sorry about my outburst earlier. I should have handled that shit on my own. It wasn’t productive, and it wasted the time we could have spent planning out any next steps.” 

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Y/n furrowed her brows. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re allowed to get upset and have big feelings sometimes too. Lord knows I do it enough…” 

Yoongi snorted softly, procuring a few of the drawings from the stack below them and looking over them again. “Yeah well, That was before we were on a time crunch. We have less than 24 hours before we have to pack up and head home with almost no fucking idea what we are going to do once we get there. And I was the one that drove everyone on this wild goose chase with my grandfather to begin with. I should’ve handled it better.” 

“I think we could all use a day off anyway. We’ve been at it nonstop for three days. Maybe jumping back in tomorrow morning with fresh eyes will do us some good.” 

Yoongi mulled over what she said, the arm behind her inching closer to rest over her shoulders, being pulled by gravity from the swing of the hammock. In his other hand he flipped to the next drawing and stared dully into the dark charcoal blob with white and gray squiggles etched into the blackness. “Maybe.” 

“You’re smart Yoongi. You’re an engineer and a future architect for starters. You are kind, emotionally intelligent, loyal–but one thing you do too much is close yourself off and beat yourself up for mistakes that anyone could make. You yell at me for doing that all of the time–you can’t be an exception to your own morals. Ever. You have to give yourself that grace.” Y/n wriggled her arm that was squished between them behind his back and around his waist in a side hug. “As for everything else–we just keep trying. Keep pushing. I know we can handle it if we work together. Plus, we still have that mystery thing I’m going to get from Jin. Who knows? Maybe whatever the fuck it is will be a major piece to the puzzle of whatever the hell is going on. And we have so many talented friends to help us now too. Even with how bad it all seems right now, I have no fear that we will figure something out.” 

Yoongi opened his mouth to smear doubt onto something she said when he froze, mouth open and eyes swirling with almost a hundred thoughts per second. “Wait–what did you say?” 

“Together we can figure something out…?” Y/n tried hesitantly. 

“No. Before that. With Jin.” Yoongi looked urgent now. 

“That his weird mysterious pouch might be the missing puzzle piece we need to figure out all this fuck-shit?” 

Yoongi’s face twisted with a sudden realization. “That’s it…That’s-” Yoongi was on his feet in an instant, sweeping up the drawings into his arms and darting through the rain with the blanket hanging off his shoulders like a cape. 

“What is?!” Y/n was up and after him, matching his pace up the stairs and into the house. 

“It’s a puzzle. I’m such a fucking idiot. I should have seen it sooner.” Yoongi skirted to a halt at the dining room table, using his arm to swipe off any clutter onto the floor and dumped the drawings in its place. “Back when I was a kid and he was teaching me to draw, he would break down the subjects into quadrants and we would each draw two. Then we’d tape them together like a puzzle. It was an exercise used to build stable basics of composition.” His hands started a hasty filter through the pages, staining his fingertips gray with led. “When he got old and started to lose himself, I would offer to do it with him again to busy his mind–except bigger–think six to eight pieces instead of four. Then I’d hang the finished piece on his wall until we made a new one together.” His hands were shaking as he matched color with color or shape with shape. “And if what they said in your vision had Bear’s letter is true about there being some set of rules preventing them from intervening–from saying something-”

“-Then he would try and tell you in a way that only you would understand…” Y/n finished for him with wide eyes. 

“Exactly.” Yoongi’s face was closer than ever, and he held out a stack of drawings for her to sift through. “You planning on going to bed again, or…” He wiggled the drawings in front of her like he already knew the answer.

“Fuck no. Do you even know me?” Y/n exclaimed, ripping the stack from his hand and categorizing the first few she saw by color.

The two of them wound themselves around the table countless times, holding up drawings and trying to piece together where they fit best. It was like doing a puzzle with no reference photo–you just had to hope that you were on the right path each time you placed two next to each other that might fit. Yoongi was the best teammate she could ask for, evenly spoken and the epitome of calm, never assuming he was right and always asking for her input. Dawn was approaching quickly on their last day, and when the first rays of sun filtered through the windows onto the table, Y/n had an epiphany of her own when part of the picture started to resemble a basin of sorts, the rippling pattern and the strange “snake” that they had put together off to the side looking familiar. 

“Wait–I think I recognize this part of it….” Y/n flew into action, directing a page here and or a colored picture there–and with Yoongi’s help, she lifted the snaking black shape they had taped together into the bottom center of the puzzle where it belonged.

Y/n’s pulse thrummed beneath her skin that felt alight with energy. She too began to shake from the rush of it all, and the room felt like it was whirring around her. Like they were on the precipice of something important. The rest of the pages fell into place after her discovery, and in minutes the image was revealed to them in all of its dark and twisted glory. 

It was a collage piece, clunky and awkward with imperfect lines, pages shaded only in led alternating with those drawn in color. All of the strange jagged lines formed towering pines, and the abstract colorful blobs made a glittering surface of water which the plant life surrounded, detailed with swirling lines to show the violent flow of moment. That which they had called a snake, was a neck–the same wiggled black neck of a black and white bird she had seen in Yoongi’s memory–attached to a round body that struggled upon the surface of the lake with its wings flapping about wildly above the surface of the water. The bird's one large white eye stared wide open back at them from the table, shining with terror in an almost human-like way; the physical presence it left on her made her skin crawl. It didn't help that its small head was cracked open down the middle, spewing black droplets down into the lake in a much more grotesque version of the drawing she had seen him make before. 

The longer she looked at the disturbing image, the more she saw. Some of the bushes and tree trunks looked humanoid–their dark figures circling the river bank to watch the bird’s freight. At the waters edge, a lumpy shape that could either be a rock or a person crouched with their hands dipped in the water–she wasn’t sure–but within the shading of it she could almost make out a mouth hung wide in misery and two eyes dribbling black lines down into the water. 

It was then she realized that while she was focused on all of the small details around the background she had missed the biggest piece of all. The bird, with its elegant elongated neck and white tipped feathers—was a goose. 

“Y/n–” Yoongi rasped, hand coming out to grasp at her wrist fervently. 

“I know.” Y/n was barely able to get the words out. “I see it too.” 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, stealing her from the hazy space she was sinking into, and she tugged it out on autopilot. 

[Jin 🛎️]: Good morning. I’m ready to hold up my end of the bargain. Hoseok will know where to find me. I’ll see you tonight. 

The rest of the day was a blur. She didn’t remember packing up the car, or buckling herself into the passenger seat of Jimin’s jeep with Hoseok at the wheel. Even the luscious scenery that which any other time would pull her in with its beauty did nothing to her. The only thing she could think of was the goose on the lake, and its one terrified eye staring straight through her. For once, she didn’t let herself jump to any conclusions. She didn’t make any theories. She didn’t think at all. There was no world in which she would let herself without any solid reasoning for the dismal path her mind was sure to fall to.

Jungkook and Jimin took up the back seat, the two of them unusually silent throughout the entire drive. Not a single peep erupted from them when she stepped out of the car as the sun was beginning to set in the church parking lot. The brownstone cathedral looked down at her with a vengeance, towered over her like a threat, and welcomed her like a weary traveler all at the same time. The nostalgic smell of old velvet lined chairs and dust wrapping around her like a vice, and the sound of a choir practicing nearby did little to soothe her troubles. With one look, she told them all to stay near the doors–to give them space. And they listened, taking up the wooden benches at the entrance while they waited. 

Y/n found Jin instantly amongst the empty pews, his head bent in reverent prayer with his eyes closed, his hands clasping something tightly in his fists. The stiff carpet dampened the sound of her entrance, giving her plenty of time to prepare herself for whatever it was he was about to give her. Jin lifted his head up slowly, gazing distantly at the choir at the front, then as if knowing she was there, turned his head to where she stood, imploring her further inward. 

“You come here often?” Y/n spoke lowly to him, cringing as she realized what she had said. 

“I do,” Jin brushed over her clumsy introduction smoothly. “It helps me clear my head a bit.” 

Y/n sat next to him on the pew, her eyes trained forwards. “So. Our deal.” 

“Right.” Jin thumbed over whatever it was that he held in his hand. “This part comes with instructions.”

“I thought they both did–hence the vacation.” 

“Yes–but this one comes with its own separate instructions. And it is crucial that you listen to them.” Jin sounded earnest, if not a little desperate. 

Y/n crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll hear you out at least. But no promises.” 

“When I give you this-” he opened his clasped hands and hung the velvet pouch from his fingers delicately, “-you can’t open it right away. You can’t, it's not safe. Everything about what I’m going to give you needs to be done in a very particular way.” 

“And when can I open it then?” 

“Friday. You’ll know what time and where.” 

“Friday? Why-” Y/n choked on her own words and her eyes bulged out of her skull. She fumbled for her phone to check the date, doing a series of mental math in her head and the world stopped spinning around her. Friday was the fourth. The fourth of July. The day her sister died. Everything faded out of focus to her. And all at once, nothing mattered to her more than the date and the drawing of the goose on the water

“And why would I do that, did you know what we were going to find in the journal?” Y/n turned to lock eyes with him, her voice quivering. “What reason would I have to follow these instructions? Why is this so important all of the sudden?”

“Do you want to understand everything or not?” Jin suddenly snapped, the cutting edge entirely out of character for him. Guilt already flashed through his eyes within seconds of the words leaving his mouth, but he persevered. “This has always been important. I’m really sticking my neck out for you because I think it’s the right thing to do. Don’t prove me wrong.” 

Y/n’s heart hammered in her ears, and she gulped down her nerves to save face. “What does that mean?” 

Jin didn’t answer right away, joining her in looking forwards and away from her. “I know I have no right to ask you for a favor-” 

“You don’t.” Y/n cut him off. 

“But I’m going to.” Jin continued anyway. “When you go in, if you see her–the real her–tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I tried my best.”  The way he looked at her tore a hole right through her chest, and left a cavernous gaping hole where her heart should be. No. No no no no. 

“Jin–” 

“I have rooms booked for the group of you in the hotel so you won't have to stay in the house until then. They are under my name.  I already had them…prepared for you. If you need anything else, feel free to fix it how you see fit.” Jin stood, his eyes glistening with tears. She stood as well to block his exit, and he grabbed her hands and dropped the bulging pouch into them, gently curling her fingers down around the fabric, speaking with a voice so strangled she thought he might choke. “Please don’t hate me more than you already do. I tried my best to take care of all of you–I really did. I’m sorry that I failed.” With that, he turned and sidled out the other end of the pew, disappearing out one of the side doors before she could say anything else. 

_________________________________________

The hotel was decorated to the nines since they had been gone. Red, white and blue ribbons and floral arrangements; bright, extravagant lights and decorations strewn from every lamppost and shrub; no expense was spared in making the property light up from every corner. The ballroom around the back side of the hotel was pulsing with music and lights, as every night during the week of The Fourth they held parties and celebrations for both the guests and the local community to take part in, each finished off at the end of the night with a firework show even bigger than the last. And with it being the 150th anniversary, they of course pulled out all of the stops. Each party kept her up late into the night with its deafening music and joyous laughter even from a dozen floors away. Tonight, it was the loudest and most lavish one yet. Tables were set up on the front lawns to welcome all who wanted to partake in the celebration, fully supplied with free cookout-style food and ice cream sundaes to any and all who decided to make the drive up. It was bright, it was joyous–it was high-spirited and vivacious down to the smallest piece of glow-in-the-dark biodegradable confetti. It was everything she wasn’t. 

It was Thursday, the third of July. The second to last party of the week, and the second most grand of them all. The days that had passed until now moved like molasses. Most of which she spent locked away in her hotel room with Jungkook when he wasn’t escorting one of the others around. The protection they wore was amped up to the hundreds, not a single one of them didn’t walk around without smelling like they had taken a bath in an herbal teashop or with a dozen trinkets draped on necklaces and stuffed in pockets. 

None of them braved the estate. Y/n most opposed of it to all of them. 

Time was running through her fingers no matter how intently she tried to make it stop, the clock already reading close to seven-thirty. Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, staring at it, her leg bouncing out of control while she waited for them all to meet up in her shared family suite that she split between Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi. The latter often did his best to keep her company in the main living area during the evenings when she couldn’t sleep, never criticizing her for how long she spent curled up on the couch with the pouch in her hand–never opened. 

Taehyung and Hoseok were the ones in charge of grabbing them all something to eat that night, as the rest of them were absolutely slammed with work because of the influx of guests and tasks they needed to catch up on from their break. It was the new routine for all of them to come back from work late, bone tired with just enough energy to wash their day away in a hot shower, shovel a bite to eat down their throats, and then crawl into their beds to sleep on command. Y/n wondered if it was purposeful sometimes–if it was their own way of dealing with whatever it was they were about to uncover. 

They gathered around the coffee table for their meal closer to eight, their food mostly untouched and the conversation dreary. No one had an appetite. For the first time since all of this had started, Y/n found herself dreading the plan they had set. Yet still however hard she tried to stay in the moment, it approached faster like she was riding a rollercoaster up to the top of the biggest hill that she was strapped in against her will. Tonight was the night they were to move. 

Or the morning, depending on how you looked at it. 

Jin was accurate in not needing to give her more information than he did. She knew exactly where to go from G-min’s drawing, and exactly what time to get there by. It was the same location, the same date, and the same time that had plagued their family for years. Y/n kicked herself for being so caught off guard. For scrambling so much. She knew almost since the beginning that she would need to face her sister in one way or another–Yoongi had said it himself awhile back. She was important. She meant something. 

She just never imagined it would feel like this. 

Y/n placed her fork to the side on a napkin. Her nonexistent appetite foiled again by her churning stomach. “I think I’m done. I should probably try and take a nap since we have to be up so…Early.” 

Hoseok nodded in agreement. “Same here. I don’t think the empanada's are agreeing with me tonight.” 

Jungkook’s dark eyes flitted between the two of them, concerned. “You guys should try to eat. We will all need energy.” 

“I have enough energy.” Y/n dismissed with a wave. “I just want to lay down.” 

“Do we want to meet up here first at 2:30, or in the lobby? We never really decided.” Namjoon asked before she could fully take her leave, causing her to pause.

“Wherever.” 

Y/n knew she was being too passive, but she couldn’t bring herself to make any kind of decision. Not right now when her brain had run itself to mush to keep it from conjuring up visions of what was to come. Truth be told, the last thing she wanted to do was separate from everyone. She wanted to return to the idealized summer they had gotten to have the weeks prior where they all stayed up late together, and they were all within reach of her wandering feet to check on. But she needed to sit in a dark room with her eyes closed. Maybe sleep would give her relief from the suspense that ate at her insides and left her restless and stuck in a state of inaction. 

“You guys decide. Someone can fill me in in the morning.” 

Y/n hid herself away in the shared room, not even bothering to care which person’s bed she let herself dive into. After some time, she did start to drift off somewhere between sleep and consciousness, only partially aware of her surroundings–but enough to hear the soft shuffle of Jimin’s light tread across the carpet, and the clink of something metallic being set atop the end table to her left. 

“I’m alright. Just sleeping….” She blubbered out from the plush of the pillow she was smooshed against. “Did you guys figure out the rest of the plan?” 

Jimin didn’t answer, but he continued to fiddle with something on the end table, the sound grating on her nerves. She had just finally fallen asleep…

“Do you need somethin-” Y/n lifted her head to glare at him, but her words were caught in her throat. “Holy shit…” 

A woman stood at her end table, older in face with long hair wavy and thin in a way she hadn’t really seen on her before, but her eyes were recognizable. Her energy undeniable. Adelaide looked nothing like the photos she had seen of her younger years, but Y/n could never forget her eyes. She would recognize them anywhere. She looked down at her with the kind of sharpness only an older woman who was tired of everyone else’s bullshit could muster, one wrinkled finger pressed onto the object she was messing with on the end table. 

“You…You’re…how…” Y/n stuttered up to the older woman in awe. “Where have you been?”

Adelaide pressed her lips together and held one finger up to them to silence her with a minute shake of her head, then gestured down to the object. It was a single bell that had lavender and pine threaded through the loop in the back, the aroma of the two smacking her in the face. Beneath it was a sheet of paper that had been folded small enough to hide away from prying eyes. Circling the entire ensemble was a thin wreath of woven rosemary, like a birds nest and the bell was the egg. Adelaide lifted the creation into her fist and held it out to her, and when Y/n took it, she closed their fists around it tightly, encasing Y/n’s hands in her own for a few seconds longer. 

With one last firm shake of her hand, she gave Y/n a look that could only be described as solemn ambivalence, and faded into the blackness of her room.  Y/n leapt up after her, fist still clenched around the charm, and burst through the door into the shared space to find her friends still loitering around the room having a hushed discussion she had clearly interrupted. She could not have been gone for more than half an hour.

“Jungkook! In the room-” She didn’t even have to finish her sentence before he was on his feet and scoping out the bedroom. She must’ve looked just as rattled as she felt. When he came back out shortly after with a shake of his head, he enveloped her hands in his until she dropped what she was holding in his to see. “Adelaide was in there. She was–I’ve never seen her before. She gave this to me.” 

Namjoon rushed to put his drink on a side table, coming up to them to take a look at what was in their hands. He plucked them up, letting the note flutter back down into her hand, and inspected it in the light from the lamp. “The bell looks like some kind of charm. But the ring of rosemary…that’s usually used in-” He cut himself off with a frown, biting his cheek and looking over her with worry–like he was worried about upsetting her with whatever it was she was going to say next. 

“It’s okay. You can say it.” Y/n encouraged him, crushing the piece of paper in her hands as she curled them into fists to ground herself for his answer. 

Namjoon grimaced, keeping a watchful eye on her as he spoke. “It’s historically used in funerals. For remembrance." 

Y/n looked down at her palm where the now crumpled piece of paper lay, her dinner threatening to make a second appearance, and peeled it open with two fingers. 

‘To remember what was and will be lost for how we once knew it. I encourage you to stay strong, Entlein. May you do what I could not.’ 

Y/n didn’t show them what it said, and she didn’t return to bed. Instead she clutched the paper in her fist and pressed herself into Jungkook’s side on one of the couches while the rest of them tried to continue where they left off, pretending not to cast her worried glances over the lip of their beverages that begged her to share what she had read. But she couldn’t. 

The only thing she could think of when she read the note was of her introduction with Bea at Adelaide a few months back. Of her white dress, her promiscuous demeanor, and the way she had insinuated that one of them smelled of death. Like one of them was doomed to die. 

Y/n’s fist that held the paper shook. She’d be damned if she let anything happen to anyone tonight. Damned if any of them got hurt more than they already had. This was her fight. It was her game to play. 

But she couldn’t play it alone. Fate had a way of being cruel like that. Especially now, as she watch Taehyung’s drink inch to the bottom of his cup, and Hoseok hadn’t take a sip from his in quite some time. The inevitable hanging on the edge of their tongues and in the shift of their posture where they sat. They were getting ready to leave for the night. 

Which meant they were one step closer to the unknown. 

Y/n had to pretend to fall asleep against Jungkook’s shoulder before they left so she wouldn’t have to watch them all go. It was her best attempt to keep her fears under control. An attempt not well made, she understood, when she had laid down in bed and still felt her fists wound shut with tension and her jaw clenched so tightly her molars ached. 

“What can I do to help you?” Jungkook whispered to her in the darkness, skipping the obvious question of ‘what’s wrong?’ in favor of getting straight to the point.

“I don’t know,” Y/n admitted weakly, her throat closing in around itself and her breath stuttering with a quiet sob. “I’m scared.” 

Jungkook shifted next to her so he was facing her, one hand coming up to rest on her cheek to tip her face towards his. “I know.” He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, just looking at her with eyes so dark they stood out from the shadows of the room. “Do you remember what I said, way back when you first got here?” 

Y/n thought back to their first real conversation in his room when she had begged him to take her to Yoongi. She recalled his strange rules, the first impression of his ever-changing eyes that had become so mundane to her now, and his stern protest. “You’re going to have to be more specific. You made a lot of demands that day.” 

He blinked at her, unimpressed, and clarified further. “Before I took you to Yoongi. I gave you a set of conditions.” 

“Almost all of which I’ve broken by the way.” Y/n managed a broken laugh. 

Jungkook beamed down at her softly. “I’m aware.” 

“And you still let me be. Look at you, growing and adapting.” She pinched his cheek in a teasing manner, to which he grabbed her wrist to pull her hand away with a sigh. 

“Okay, enough.” He held her hand between them, interlacing their fingers together. “But do you remember my last rule?” Y/n shook her head honestly, and Jungkook pressed a soft kiss to one of her fingertips in response. “I made you promise that if you ever felt scared, or if it ever felt like too much, that you’d tell me. And I still mean that.” 

Y/n’s breath hitched. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that whatever call you need to make, I’m here for you. I won’t say I told you so, or I won’t pressure you one way or the other. I mean it.” He looked down at her earnestly, pressing another kiss to her knuckles. 

Y/n felt more tears well up in her eyes. He truly had come so far, and here she was, still a blubbering confused mess. “Okay.” She whispered up to him. “I’ll remember that.” 

A few more beats of silence passed, but still Y/n didn’t feel like she would be able to sleep anytime soon. The note still bounced around her skull and her nerves hissed vile lies and brutal fantasies of what could happen to her or her friends. What could be happening to them now. Y/n suddenly rolled over in their bed and grasped for her phone, pulling open their group chat and  typing out a message in a moment of vulnerability. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]: I can’t sleep. I’m terrified about what’s about to happen. I can't stop thinking that something is happening to all of you whenever I’m not looking, and not being able to check on all of you is killing me. 

[Morning Glory 🌼]:....Sleepover?

Y/n threw her phone under her pillow and rolled back over, regret flooding through her system at sending such a juvenile request. Most of them had probably already passed out the moment their heads hit the pillow. She heard her phone buzz a few times, and Jungkook’s face was lit up from his own phone as he checked the messages and sent a couple of his own. He sniffed, then abruptly got out of bed and opened the door, pausing with a look back at her. 

“Are you coming to help?” 

“Help with what?” Y/n sat up slowly. 

Her answer came as a knock from the main door, and Jungkook slipped out to answer it. Y/n, confused, followed after him, her eyes nearly bulging out of her skull as Taehyung and Namjoon were in the process of dragging in a fucking mattress from the room across the hall. 

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Y/n gasped, rushing over to help pivot it into the living space. 

“Sleepover.” Taehyung shrugged with a boxy grin. 

“What–did you expect us all to sleep on the floor? At this age?” Namjoon snorted. 

“We aren’t that old, Joon.” Y/n shook her head with a bewildered laugh. “Honestly, I didn’t expect anyone to respond at all.” 

“Your first mistake.” Hoseok chirped from behind them, dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt. “You think any of us can sleep tonight?” 

“Some of us are trying to!” Yoongi scowled from the doorway into his room, arms crossed and leaned up against the door frame. “What is all of this–why is everyone suddenly moving in.” 

“Sleepover~” The rest of them called out to him in unison. 

He rolled his eyes, walking over to help Taehyung and Namjoon steer the mattress into the shared bedroom. “Of course, silly me. How obvious. The one time I don’t check my goddamn phone you guys are smuggling mattresses…” 

Poor Jimin was awoken by the group of them pushing his bed against hers and Jungkook's, sliding them against the wall to make room for everyone else’s, and he moved in a sleepy stupor helping everyone lug pillows and blankets over from their rooms with his eyes still closed. And after half an hour of them playing real-life tetris with a total of four plush mattresses and one air mattress, they had situated everyone just right to have their own spot to sleep. 

Y/n’s cheeks hurt from laughing, and her wrists ached from carrying an ungodly amount of bedding and tucking sheets and pillows onto the corners of beds. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when she could see them all, some of them curled on their sides with their nose buried on their phone, or their chests rising and falling in slow breaths, their presence making the weight of the next few hours feel so far away. She let one hand dangle down the side of her bed to the floor, her other one tossed over Jungkook and held by Jimin on the other side of him. Below her she watched Hoseok scroll mindlessly on social media, and she flapped her hand in front of his face to silently get his attention. 

He quirked a brow up at her, mouthing a quick ‘what?’, and instead of answering, she grabbed for one of his hands and interlaced their fingers, swinging them back and forth through the air with a syrupy smile. 

“Just wanted to hold your hand.” She whispered down to him. 

He stared up at her, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly as he took her in. “You sure?” 

“Yep.” Y/n nuzzled her face down into her pillow, satisfied with watching the colors from his phone dance across his cheeks. That was until he the device slipped from his hand and landed square on his face, and Y/n had trouble stifling her giggles in her pillow, the two of them fighting for their lives to stay quiet in respect to their friends. 

“Whoever is giggling–knock it off.” They didn’t do a good enough job according to Yoongi’s huffing and puffing from across the room, only spurring them on to laugh even harder. 

Y/n’s face was hot, her stomach hurt in a good way this time, and she felt warm. So entirely warm in her chest that it lulled her to sleep within minutes of them finally reigning in their laughter. 

_________________________________________

Everything felt charged to the max. The previously cheerful atmosphere their sleeping arrangements had created were long gone once the first alarm had gone off on someone's phone only three hours later.

Doom was all Y/n felt. 

With bags packed, the seven of them set out of the hotel and across the grass, the distant thunder of fireworks from surrounding cities still popping through the sky even though the Hotel’s had finished long before they had gone to bed. The forest bent and swayed around them like it was alive, whispering down to them through the rustle of leaves in a prayer of protection.

Y/n’s hands were damp with sweat around the metal handle of the flashlight she held, and she forced herself to just focus on the bouncing of the light across the trees and the dirt path instead of the velvet pouch she held in her other hand, her fingers itching to just pry it open already and get this over with. 

It took them a bit longer than usual to trek the path, the group of them taking their time to watch out for dangers of both the paranormal and natural nature. The reason the E.R had believed their bear story easy enough should give them a reason to be on guard for more than just ghosts. Not to mention, the soldiers were mostly out of commission. They weren’t lying to Jimin when they had said that the anniversary of their battles messed them up–their brains scattered, half of them still in the present and the other half trapped in a bloody battle that had long since passed. 

Discussion was minimal. There wasn’t much for any of them to say. Nothing much any of them could say. 

Y/n heard the hollow lapping of the lake against the dock before she saw it over the small hill. Goosebumps fanned out across her skin, and her feet sank into the dirt below her feet before she had even realized she had stopped moving. Namjoon came up beside her first, a firm hand clapping down on her shoulder to give her a reassuring shake, and a sympathetic nod of his head as he stepped forwards over the hill first, disappearing down the other side and out of her sight. 

Jimin came beside her, slipping his hand in hers and giving it a strong squeeze. “We are all here with you. We all understand. Take your time.” He leant over to press a kiss to her cheek, then followed after Namjoon. Yoongi went next, he didn’t say anything, he just angled her flashlight higher so it covered more area, his hand lingering over hers just a second too long. Hoseok and Taehyung left with him, offering their own wordless gestures of support and giving her and Jungkook a moment alone on the other side. 

Y/n turned to face Jungkook, using a shaky hand to push a face framing lock of hair from his cheek to rest behind his ear. His hair was so long he had to tie some of it up again to keep from falling in his eyes, a backpack slung over his black t-shirt, and his dark jean pockets overflowing with flower petals and sticks of incense. Without the plant matter, she could almost pretend they were two lovers in college, walking in the woods late at night without a care in the world. Maybe the flowers would be for her and not to keep away demonic relatives and monstrous creatures. But that wasn't the reality they lived in.

“You still doing okay?” Jungkook checked in, spinning the flashlight around in his hand a few times. 

Y/n looked over the hill, listened to the gentle motions of the water and the distinct chatter of her friends as they prepared a spot for their session, and smelt the wet air and moist dirt around them. She wasn’t okay. Nothing about this made her feel okay. None of that mattered right now, she had to remind herself. So without trusting her voice, she nodded, and grabbed his hand to lead them both over the hill to the body of water that awaited them below. 

She was at a standstill again at the bottom, locked in a trance of watching the tiny waves roll over one another in their lazy race to the embankment. No one held it against her, moving around her as though she wasn’t even there, setting up the blankets and candles, lining it with protective sigils and crystals, charms, and homemade protective spells. Y/n couldn’t say how much time had passed. All she could think about was how dark it was without her flashlight. How scary it must’ve been for her sister to come here all alone all those many years ago. 

Enough time had passed for them to bless their small corner of the lakeside, and Yoongi came up to stand in front of her and tear her from her thoughts, pinching his lip between his teeth. “We are ready for you then, whenever you are.” 

Y/n felt herself nod, and she swallowed down the tears that had unknowingly threatened to spill, stepping over to the blankets where the others were already seated.  She couldn’t sit yet, she was too restless–so instead she hovered over them, standing on the edge of the circle so she was just within its confines, running her fingers over the velvet exterior of the pouch. Since the moment he had shown this thing to her, she had wanted to rip it open like an animal and pour through its contents, yet now all she felt was reluctance to do that very thing. The pouch fluttered in her hands, its energy pulsing and fluttering akin to a small bird. A part of her knew something in here was going to break her.

With a deep breath, she pried her fingers into the small cinched opening, and wrestled it open. Time moved in slow motion–or maybe it was her moving that slow, delaying the inevitable. With the top opened, she shook the contents out into her awaiting palm, observing each item carefully. First, came a collection of woodchips,  after which came a tiny rainbow-beaded bracelet with a shiny silver butterfly charm. But the last item was stubborn, and needed assistance coming out. She stuck two fingers in, pinching them around something made of fabric and unsheathing it with a shaky breath. 

It was a handsewn pouch made of the vibrant floral pattern that had belonged to her sister’s bedspread, and when Y/n flipped open the lip of it, out fell two small decaying teeth that clattered on top of the wood chips, and a clump of hair tied together with a black ribbon. She wanted to scream, her mouth opened to do just that though no sound came out to give her that release. She had no choice but to just stare at them in horror and lower herself robotically down to sit next to them, her trembling hand outstretched to the middle of the circle so they could see. 

“Jesus Christ,” Yoongi cursed, scooping them out of her hand to rescue her from the weight of them and dumping them into the center bowl. “That’s fucking foul.” 

Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of them as they interlocked hands and wrists, Hoseok’s right hand inched forwards to dip his fingers into the bowl with a curled lip. “This by far has got to be the worst one I’ve ever had to do.” 

Taehyung nervously licked his lips, tearing his eyes away from it to look to Y/n. “What time?” Y/n just blinked at him, lost. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, nodding towards the bowl with a carefully curated expression of calmness. “What time?” 

It was then that Y/n realized that Taehyung was the only one that wasn’t there for it–the only one that didn’t know the story in and out or hold scars from its memory. “Three thirty in the morning. Approximately.” Y/n rushed to answer, her voice already warbled with emotion. 

Taehyung nodded, and the seven of them let their eyes fall closed, waiting for the visions to start. The suspense crushed her insides, offering her no moments rest, no breath to steady herself. She braced for the first image of her sister to flash behind her eyelids so she wouldn’t cry too loud. 

But nothing came. 

“Should we call upon her?” Yoongi broke the tense silence. 

“Maybe. I’m sensing her energy but it’s just not–she just won't come out.” Hoseok grit his teeth and pressed his hand further in the bowl. 

“Maybe we can try again?” Taehyung suggested. “It might take a couple tries.” 

Silence fell over them again, and Hoseok prodded through the sensations the items offered intently, filtering through them to find one strong enough to pull from. Y/n could feel the pull inside of her, warming her insides and guiding her forwards with the same rapid beat the pouch had possessed. Against what she knew, a voice in her head told her to open her eyes, her gut drawing her to look for the something on her radar that rang alarm bells in her head. And she listened. 

While all of her friends were still locked in a focused trance with their eyes closed, Y/n’s scanned the perimeter of the lake, searching for whatever was calling to her intuition and pulling her closer like a magnet. She skirted over the lake for the second time, and a flash of moment beneath the surface stole her attention. 

Matilda’s small head surfaced from the water, her black eyes glowering across the way at her. Hateful. Frightening. 

Beckoning. 

Fear, cold and all-consuming took over her senses. Y/n thought back to how her sister must have have felt that night. Did she feel this kind of fear? Did she feel none at all? Was she brave in the face of pitch black forests and the dark abyss that she felt safe enough to come to alone? Matilda’s stare pierced through her and prickled at her skin like needles. Y/n could feel her. Feel the request her ghostly glare made.

“Come find me, Ente.” 

 If her sister could be brave in the face of something so frightening when so little, then so could she. 

Y/n moved in a dreamlike state, rising to her feet and stepping over Yoongi and Hoseok towards the waters edge, leaving the protective circle behind her. Matilda didn’t move towards her, she let Y/n make the first move. 

Jungkook was grabbing at her shoulder and yanking her backwards, eyes ablaze with indignation. “Y/n. No.” 

“I need to,” Y/n pleaded, the tears she fought so hard to keep at bay falling quickly down her cheeks. “This is how she wants to show me.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You said I could make the call,” She countered, looking forlornly back at the waters edge. “And I’m making the call. I know you won’t let anything happen to me.” 

Jungkook sighed sharply through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “Fine.” 

The group started to move the candles towards the dock, but Y/n stopped them. “No candles. No blanket.” 

“Y/n if you think we are going to let you just wade into the water without any protection because your demonic sister said so, you’ve lost your fucking mind.” Yoongi spat at her, hands full of crystals and protective satchels. 

“That’s exactly what I expect you to do!” Y/n shouted back, breath hitching each time she tried to catch it. “She didn’t get to have any of that while she was out here. It’s not fair that I do.” Yoongi stared her down, eyes narrowed while the rest of them awaited further command, but Y/n wouldn't budge. Y/n couldn’t explain what she was doing, but she knew that it felt right. 

“Snuff out the candles.” Yoongi relented under his breath. 

“Are you serious?” Namjoon got to his knees looking like he wanted to swing. 

“I said snuff out the candles. Fuck.” Yoongi tossed the stuff in his hands onto the ground and shucked off his jacket. “You can have it your way then. But I’ll be damned if you go in there alone.” 

After a quick deliberation, none of them would be willing to let her go alone, all of them kicking off their shoes and wading in to about waist height for her to join them. Y/n followed her in her sister's footsteps, padding carefully down the dock until something told her to stop near the end and sit, letting her legs dangle over the edge and facing where she knew her friends were located 

“Remember to keep your lights off.” Y/n shakily reminded them.  “No matter what.” 

“We know.” Hoseok reassured her. “Just get in so we know where you are.” 

Y/n planted two hands on the dock and got ready to lower herself in, taking a moment to look out into the vast nothingness, for without their flashlights there was truly no light except for the stars from above and the far off flash of rogue fireworks over the tree tops. She let the night time breeze birth new goosebumps over her skin and send shivers down her spine. She imagined that her friends weren’t only a handful of feet away–imagined what it felt like to be there entirely alone. 

A tiny, slippery, hand gripped her ankle, and before she knew it, she was plummeting below the surface, the water stifling any scream she could get with its rush into her mouth and her nose. She sputtered to the surface and scrambled over to her friends grasping for Taehyung’s side once she could feel the bottom and using him to pull herself into the semicircle they had formed. 

“You okay?” Taehyung fretted down to her, guiding her into the middle. 

“What was that about? Don’t scare the shit out of us!” Yoongi scolded, gripping onto the sleeve of her shirt while she caught her breath. 

“I fell in.” Y/n’s teeth clattered from the residual chill of her sister’s palm that started to spread all over her skin and deep into her bones. “I’m okay now.” 

Yoongi muttered a few more curses, but all Y/n could hear was her sister’s voice calling out to her from below the water. 

“Lay back. I’ll show you now.” 

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, answering her out loud, leaning back and letting the water take control of her, her friends hands anchoring her to one spot to keep her from floating away. 

“Matilda is talking to her,” Jimin caught them up to speed urgently, fingers encircling her wrist. 

Jungkook claimed one of her hands, but whatever he was saying to her faded to indecipherable noise. She heard them say something about connecting to each other, and she saw a flash of red as Hoseok wielded the satchel in his hand he must have swiped. 

"I'm ready to see you, Gänse. Show me what you know." Then she couldn’t feel them anymore. Her bones compressed in on each other and her head ached as her soul was tugged from within. She blinked skyward, the view traded out for cream colored ceilings and a soft, plush bed.

“Y/n, Wake up sweetie.” 

Matilda stirred in her bed, rousing from her sleep and unfurling from her blankets at the sound of a voice. 

“Come on Ente, I need to speak with you.” 

Matilda sat up in her bed, the nightlight on her bedstand casting a soft glow onto the figure that hovered over her sister’s bed. “Papa? What are you doing?” 

Anselm flinched at the sound of her voice, and turned in amotion that resembled a rusty robot more than a human to look at where the sound had come from. At the sight of her, a wide smile taking over his features as he floated over to her bedside, cold hands pressing into her shoulders to recline back into her pillows with a soft coo. “Don’t worry Gänse, I just need to talk to Y/n. You can go back to sleep.” 

“Why?” Matilda popped back up. 

Anselm blinked, the motion unnatural to him. “Because I said so.” 

“But why?” Matilda pushed further. “Are we going somewhere fun?” 

Anselm tilted his head to the side pensively, his grin flickering momentarily before he regained control over it, the corners stretching wider over his cheeks. “We? Is your name Y/n?” 

Matilda cast a nervous glance over to her sister who was still fast asleep in her bed. If Papa was going to take her somewhere fun–she wanted to go too. It was her that didn’t get to see the fireworks, not Y/n. Y/n always got to do the fun stuff with her dad anyways. Maybe since it was dark enough he would believe her just this once. 

“Yes.” Matilda nodded fervently up to him. “That’s why I woke up first.” 

“Oh what a good listener you are!” Her father pinched her cheek, and Matilda giggled–her father was acting quite silly tonight. He cast an apprehensive glance from one bed to the other. “Are you sure your name is Y/n?” 

“Don’t be so funny, can’t you recognize your own daughter?” Matilda covered her mouth with a hand to keep her laughter from waking up her sister and blowing her cover.

Her father hesitated, giving her a quick once over that she missed, then he tossed the covers off of her with a flourish and held a finger up to his lips with a wink. “Well then Y/n, let’s stay quiet so we don’t wake up your sister. I want to show you something special that’s just for me and the future hotel owner. A special secret just for us.” 

“Okay!” Matilda stretched her toes down to the floor and jumped from her bed, grabbing her father’s hand and letting him guide her out into the hall. She watched him close the door carefully, the action taking too long for her patience. “Where are we going?” 

Anselm jumped at her volume, and clamped a hand over her mouth on instinct, lifting it only when he realized what he had done and an animated apologetic smile. “Sorry Ente-” he shook his hand at the feel of her mouth like he had touched something dirty, “It’s a surprise. But you have to stay quiet!” 

Matilda bounced on the balls of her feet, drawing a zipper over her lips and making a show of throwing the key away. 

“Perfect,” Anselm whispered, herding Matilda down the hall towards the landing. 

“Mr. Wörner?” 

Anselm spun around with an animalistic hiss to face the intruder, spine curling downwards like a startled animal. 

“Are you…are you two alright?” Jin asked, head poking around the corner to take in the scene. 

“Oh! Of course we are! Nothing to be worried about here.” Anselm resituated himself and forced a casual laugh, giving Matilda’s hand a gentle tug. “Right, little one?” 

“Yep!” Matilda enunciated each syllable carefully. 

“Oh. Okay…” Jin made a move to turn around the corner but stopped himself, this time looking directly at Matilda. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Positvalutley!” Matilda chirped, gesturing for him to turn around. “We are going to a su-” 

“-She needs a drink! She had a nightmare and got thirsty. I have it covered kiddo, you head back to bed alright?” Anselm gently shuffled Matilda further behind him out of Jin’s line of sight. 

Jin nodded slowly, and reluctantly turned to head back down the hall to his room with a soft bid goodnight. “If you say so…” 

Matilda couldn’t contain her excitement, her smile growing bigger by the second and her steps turning to skips, swinging her hand in her fathers as they descended the steps and crossed the foyer. “Are we there yet?” 

“No. I’ll tell you when we get there.” Her father stopped at the front door, spinning on his heel to address her, leaning down to her level with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows. “What would you say to a race?” 

“Where?!” Matilda was barely able to contain her squeal of joy. 

“To the trees. I’ll go around back, and you go out the front door and we will see who can get there first. Sound like fun?” 

“Yes!” 

“Wunderbar!” Anselm cheered, giving her a high-five and unlocking the door, opening it with a grand flourish. “When you get to the path, walk until you count  to ten and then you can run. That way I can get to the back door before you start running. ” 

Matilda skipped out the door, counting each step as she hopped down to the gravel, barely able to contain her excited giggles as she counted. “...seven…eight…nine…” She approached the flower garden, and caught a glimpse of her father rounded the back of the house, squealing with delight. “Ten!”

Matilda was off, flying across the grass towards the quickly approaching trees without hesitation. Anselm got to the dirt path near the edge long before she did, and she pouted, her lip puffed out in childish defiance. “That’s not fair! You’re much bigger than me!” 

“Isn’t that how the game works?” Anselm looked down at her with a raised brow, his voice sounding funny to her ears. 

“No. You’re supposed to give me a chance.” Matilda huffed. “You didn’t even give me a chance to win!” 

“I did!” Anselm growled below his breath, eyes flashing in a way that frightened her. 

“Papa, you’re scaring me…” Matilda took an unsteady step back. 

Anselm curled his lip in disgust, his demeanor shifting slightly. “Don’t call me that!” 

“Okay….” Matilda eyed him up as she took his hand again, feeling less sure of herself and her decision to lie. She wanted to crawl back under her covers and hide from her father for the first time in her life, and she didn’t know why. But her parents would surely punish her if they found out she had lied, so it would be best to just finish the surprise so she could get back to bed as soon as she could. 

Her father pulled her further into the dark woods, and Matilda grew more and more unsettled as the minutes passed. There was movement in the brush behind them, and she looked back over her shoulder where the sound had popped from, and she screamed–gripping her father’s hand tighter and tugging him to a stop to no avail. 

“Papa! Look!” She cried out, pointing a small finger down the path to the scary looking woman that followed them–her eyes glowing through the night, and her mouth hanging open in a silent scream. 

Anselm didn’t bother looking back, keeping his head trained on the path ahead. “There is nothing there to be worried about Entlein. Just the wind.” 

“No! She’s following us!” Matilda started to cry as the woman drew closer, stumbling after them on bloody feet. Her father didn’t say anything this time, clenching his jaw tighter and pulling her forwards with more force. “Papa, I want to go back home! Please take me home. I’m tired!” 

“What about the surprise?” Anselm snapped down at her. “Don’t you want the surprise?” 

Matilda looked back to the woman, and then her father. “What about her?” 

“She won’t bother you.” Her father said smoothly. 

Matilda sniffled to herself, clinging to her father’s leg to keep the woman away. If he wasn’t scared of her then he could keep her safe. Like how he would kill all the spiders that scared her, or hold her during the scary parts of movies. He would do the same here even if he was acting strange, she willed to herself.

 They made it to the end of the path, the two of them climbing down the gentle slope of the hill towards the lake. Anselm padded onto the dock first, but Matilda let her hand slip from his, hugging the limb to her chest in her uncertainty. “We aren’t supposed to come here at night I thought….” 

Her father plopped down onto the edge of the dock with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head to the sky. “You’re right. But tonight is an exception.” 

“Why?” 

Before he could answer, a handful of fireworks went off somewhere nearby, and Matilda gasped, taking off down the dock to sit next to her dad to get a better look at the bursts of color with her fear left forgotten on the grass behind her. 

The booming fireworks drowned out the ragged breathing and heavy steps of their audience, shadows anxiously pacing the lake's edge before approaching the edge of the dock and vanishing from their field of vision. The amount of  figures crowding around the trees grew in number as they blended into the shadows so she couldn’t see them closing in, stretching across the dock and joining into the hulking shadow her father’s body cast on the dock behind them, ballooning it to a monstrous size. 

A burst of glittering gold showered down from the sky, and Matilda gasped. “Wow! Did you see that one?” 

“I did.” Anselm hissed under his breath, spine curling inward under the weight of all the energy pulsing in his body. 

Matilda’s excitement faltered, his voice taking on that buzzing edge she didn’t like. “Papa?” 

Anselm shuddered, the veins under his skin pulsing with darkness, eating away at his insides and turning his eyes a bulging glowing gold like the firework from moments before.  “I said you don’t call me that…” 

Matilda cowered back. “A-Are you sick?” 

Spit pooled in the corners of his mouth and dripped black down the edges of his chin and sprayed into the air as he snapped. “Shut up!” He lunged at her, hands outstretched to grab her. 

Matilda let out a piercing cry, and scrambled to her feet to run back down the dock, her sneaker catching on one of the wooden planks before she tumbled into the water with another shout. Her father followed in shortly after, and she made a desperate grab to help her up, hands flailing blindly for any part of him to hold onto. He gripped her shoulders, and instead of lifting her up, he shoved her further under the water until she couldn’t scream anymore. Everything hurt–her chest, her head, her legs–and she tried to imagine her sisters coming up the hill to get her, or her mother waking up and pulling her out, begged the stars glittering through the water to let them come. The stars must’ve been angry with her for lying too, because none of her wishes came true. 

 She tried to yell for him–thrashed around to tell him to stop–but he didn’t. The last thing she saw was his eyes, shining like golden headlights into the water that splashed like an ocean current above her. And then all of the pain she felt floated away, and she couldn’t see anything anymore. 

The ghostly woman who had followed them screamed out in unison, hands clawing into the water but she never moved in to help. She just wailed into the night like a howling wolf, throwing water into the sky in victory or misery, Y/n couldn’t tell . 

“I want to be free, Ente.” Matilda weeped from the waters. “I just want him to let go of me.” 

Y/n whipped all of her limbs around in a wild attempt for an escape, Candida and Matilda’s cries from the vision melting with her own as she shrieked–she could still feel hands all over her and she fought against them to let her go. 

“Hey! Hey it’s just us–she’s gone!” Yoongi tried to soothe her with a hand on her forehead, but it did the opposite. 

She’s gone. 

She’s gone. 

She’s gone. 

Y/n fought to stand, throwing all of their hands off her and wailing at the top of her lungs into the night. She brought her hands up into the air and curled them into fists, bringing them down on the water with bruising force. She didn’t stop until her wrists ached and her throat burned with how much she screamed. Until the lake and the earth felt her wrath or the sky cracked she wouldn’t stop. 

When she couldn’t hold herself up anymore, she turned to the lost faces of her friends who must’ve not seen a thing for how little of a reaction they had, and sobbed so hard she thought her lungs were going to fall out. 

“It was supposed to be me….” 

“What–what do you mean?” Yoongi tried again, stepping over the waist high water to get to her, growing increasingly worried. He grabbed her by the forearms to steady her. Wet pieces of his hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead “Y/n what happened? What did you see?”  

Y/n couldn’t speak. She turned and did her best to run through the water, falling forward onto her hands on the rocky beach and throwing up what little dinner she had eaten. Jimin was at her side in an instant, rubbing soothing circles over her shoulder blades and whispering words of comfort into her ear, the sound doing little to drown out her sister’s cries for help, or the image of her father’s face hovering over her through the troubled waters surface through her sister’s eyes. 

Jungkook crouched in front of her, and without thinking, she looked up to him with her face crumpled in another sob, pleading. “I can’t…” She crawled towards him and threw herself into his chest, clawing for a hold on his shirt like it was the only thing keeping her last threads of sanity together. “S’too much. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t…” 

Jungkook held her, shushing her softly. Y/n closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see anything anymore. Especially not Yoongi–imagining his disappointment in her for quitting hurt enough. But most devastatingly, she couldn’t handle the risk of seeing her sister’s head poke out from the waters. Because in this state, she just might have to follow her down into the deep as a sacrifice to fix the wrong that had been done. To fix the mistake that her sister had paid the price for. 

_________________________________________

Epilogue. 

Y/n was broken. Utterly broken. 

The sun was rising with its glorious orange glow over the treetops that flew by in a blur. She couldn’t dare speak of what she had seen, so she wrote it down in a fury of letters and ink, smeared with lake water and tears for her friends to read. All of them were in their own state of disarray, but Y/n was managing hers by being slumped in the back seat of Hoseok’s car, Jungkook’s arm around her to keep her warm from the chill she couldn’t seem to shake. 

They pulled up to the cabin with screeching tires and slamming doors announcing their arrival. Her mother came out onto the porch in a disheveled haste, a robe loosely thrown over her shoulders, and bags hung low beneath her eyes like she hadn’t slept a wink in weeks. 

“What is this? What is the meaning of this?” 

Y/n didn’t listen, she ran across the gravel and landed a hard shove to her shoulders, sending the older woman stumbling back away from her. “How dare you!” 

“Excuse me-” 

“How could you!” Y/n shrieked, tears screaming down her face. “How could you keep him there after what he had done! How could you ever look at him!” She gave her mother another shove, this one much weaker than the last. “How could you live knowing what he did?” 

Mariah visibly shattered, her shoulders deflating. “You know now…don’t you?” 

“Of course I know! I was always going to find out.” Y/n seethed, eyes aflame with betrayal and wrath. “Why didn’t you do something, you coward? Why did you come after us and not him? Just trying to finish the job, huh? Fix your mistake?” Mariah just stood there as she threw every insult and accusation in her face, her silence getting under Y/n’s skin even more than her petty excuses. 

“Say something!” She charged forward, landing another firm shove. Then another. And another. Each one growing weaker than the last as the last of her strength gave way, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “Say something…” 

Mariah grabbed her wrists as they came down for the next shove, pulling her into her chest and wrapping her arms over her shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. “I know it hurts.” Y/n crumbled into her, her legs giving out and dragging them both to the ground. “Trust me, I know it hurts. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

Against everything she knew she should do, she buried her fingers into the softness of her robe and leaned into her like the little girl she felt like. Finding solace in her mother’s embrace that had done nothing but betray her. “How did you live with this?”

“I cried. A lot,” Mariah answered, raw and vulnerable. “When I first found out, I almost killed him. But what good would that have done? No one would believe me.” Y/n listened to her mother speak–really speak–for the first time since before she had left. “You need to know that whoever that was, was not your father. He would’ve never done that in his right mind. I’ve been trying to…I’ve been trying to find who it was. Who made him do something so inhumane?” 

“And threatening us was just a part of the process?” Y/n pulled back from the hug. “Kicking me out was part of the process? Ripping us all apart was the best you could–” 

“He was going to kill you! Don’t you understand that?” Mariah’s shout came down on Y/n like an iron fist, rattling her soul. “If I didn’t send you away, he was going to kill you and anyone who got in his way to you!” Mariah cupped Y/n’s face in her hands that shook with emotion. “Don’t you get it? I messed up. I didn’t carry on a tradition that wasn’t mine. A religion that wasn’t mine,  painted to me like some kind of misogynistic vow of my life to my husband. That, despite everything, it was my job to clean up the mess his family left behind. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t jump on board with it–trust me, I’ve regretted turning Margaret away every single goddamn day since she died.”

“But that doesn’t explain what you’ve done since then! Almost killing all of us, lying, hiding, all of your rules–Candida–Yoongi! All of it makes no sense!” Y/n argued. 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you Y/n–I didn’t do those things. Somebody else did. I was trying to stop them.” 

Y/n’s heart stopped. “That’s not right. You…Hoseok said you used him–” 

“-to figure out who was doing what! To gather intel on them–to see if they were hurting you! Jin would keep an eye on all of you for me and report back if he sensed something was about to happen. Then I’d try and find who it was and stop it before it occurred. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them all…” Mariah finally let a tear fall. “And I’m sorry I had to lie. But with you being back, I haven’t been able to make any progress. We’ve just been trying to keep our heads above the flood that your presence brought.” 

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What about Yoongi? Firing Jungkook?” 

“Whoever is behind all of this is angry. Rotten. It's spiraled out of control ever since your sister was killed, but this has been brewing long before I got here or you were even a thought in our minds. It’s evil and holds no bounds for who it takes down with it. Like I said, they will kill anyone that gets in their way; they don’t care about any kind of truce or rules the other families have if breaking them means getting their way. Yoongi was too smart, too driven–he was going to end up like Hoseok if I didn’t step in. Do I even have to explain my reasoning with Jungkook? He loves you, and love is a dangerous thing here. It gives you a reason to stay.” 

“Then why wasn’t Jimin a target?” Y/n spat. “I was with him first. I was–” 

“Jimin is protected under the Kim’s, though he is not bound by blood. That boy would find a job elsewhere for you in a heartbeat. Everyone else has much deeper roots to pull up if they just decided to up and leave.” Mariah sounded exhausted. “His knowledge was his only threat. So I had to do what I could to keep it…censored.” 

Y/n’s breathing was labored as she took it all in, trying to catch up with the sheer amount of knowledge being thrown at her.  “Wait, back up–what do you mean ‘end up like Hoseok’?” 

Her mother blinked a few times, trying to regain her composure. “Well, we–meaning Misuk and I–have reason to believe that his accident was…targeted.” 

“By who?” Y/n tug her fists into the dirt to ground herself. 

“That is the mystery I’ve been trying to solve--in every aspect. Keeping him close meant I could keep an eye on him. I didn’t intend to use him–I just had no other choice. I have no one to help me, everyone who knew anything is dead.  And the biggest way to get you off their scent–to keep you all away from it all was to make everyone hate me. I’d rather have a daughter who hates me than another daughter who’s dead. ” Mariah slumped forward, defeated. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?” She pressed her palms into her eyes to stop the wetness from dripping down any further. “I ran from the beliefs your grandmother tried to push on me because I hated the thought of being responsible for your father’s actions–yet here I am, throwing everything I have to the fire to try and pick up the pieces of what he’s done.” 

Y/n backed away slowly, her brain overloaded with more questions than answers. This was it. She had thrown herself so ferociously at the wall that she thought she needed to break down, and now she was in a bigger mess than she had been in when she started, with almost no answers, and no clue what to do from here. 

She released a shaky exhale, running her sweaty palms over her thighs. “So what now? What happens now…mom?” 

Mariah lifted her head from her hands. “Well,” she swaddled herself in her robe, holding it closed with her hands that still shook. Y/n could imagine how similar they must have looked. “I will keep trying to figure out who or what is behind all of this so I can get your father back, and I can get rid of them for good. And if that endeavor is successful, my hope is to have you all return to your lives at the estate, and that we may move forwards and grow together like we once had planned to with you as the…” Her mother paused, raising her hopeful gaze from the ground to meet Y/n’s. “Perhaps…perhaps we could work together instead of against one another. Lord knows there is no use in keeping you away any longer.” 

Y/n hugged herself, her insides still churning and her mind whirring a mile a minute. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I believe you. If I can just trust you like that.” 

Mariah nodded solemnly, wiping her nose with a sniffle and getting to her feet. “Of course–that’s completely understandable. That’s-” He voice cracked, but she covered it with a clear of her throat. “I can handle it from here. However, I hope you know what that means for you, don’t you?” 

Y/n felt a new wave of tears pour down her cheeks. “I do.” 

Their farewell was minimal. Barely warmer than their last one almost five years prior. Her mother’s offer replaying in her mind over and over again as the trees whirred past, and long after she crossed state lines from Pennsylvania further south. She needed to get away. Away from it all to think about everything that had just transpired in the past twelve hours. A faraway memory in her head of Matilda watching movies with sandy beaches and begging her parents to take her to the beach held her in a chokehold. They had never gotten the chance to go together and she had so desperately wanted to go.  So with the little wooden box of her photos in her lap and her bag packed in the trunk, when Hoseok asked where she wanted to go, the answer was obvious. 

Y/n looked for the answer to what to do next in the crashing of waves, and the shift of sand beneath her feet day in and day out. Matilda’s photos propped next to her in the box that she’d talk to whenever the visions she had shown her kept her up at night–which was every night more or less. Weeks passed by like this. Just her, and the empty concave Bear's presence left in the sand nearby. Though one of the night in particular stayed more memorable than the rest. That night as August approached, her mind was fixated on how small Matilda had been. How innocent her smile was when she imitated the star atop the holiday tree. How even to the last few minutes of her life, she had coveted herself with laughter and unbridled bravery. There was nothing there worthy of punishment–for either of them, for that matter. Neither of them had been much taller than the four-foot mark, so they weren’t much of a threat in that regard. The only threat Y/n could possibly be, she concluded that night, was how vibrantly she wielded her tenacity. 

All Y/n felt was rage. 

Who had the right to take something so precious? To sink their claws and starving jaws into the life of another based on some senseless standing of hatred and power? Who, was the question she asked herself every morning with her fists clenched in the sand and her eyes boring into the photos of her sister, for it was almost as if she believed that if she stared long enough, begged hard enough, that her sister would jump out from the photo and tell them all she knew. 

But the sister she loved was gone, and in its place was one warped from ruthlessness–her soul tarnished from brutality and the evil that had so mercilessly squashed her from reality like an insect. Echoes of her cries deafened her thoughts. Images of her father standing over her haunted her. 

She thought of Bear, and his observation that a wounded dog snaps its jaws when you poke its most tender spot. Which meant, at the root of it all, that Y/n taking ownership was a real threat. A real possibility that threatened the spirits and their puppet master to the point of waging war against the living. That did earn the smallest of smiles from her.

Y/n stood from the grassy plains and wandered closer to the sea, letting the water run over her feet and wash the noise away, carrying it off down into the earth so she would no longer have to deal with it. Gray misty skies kept her company in her misery, cocooning her away from the warm caress of the sun and giving her something to mindlessly stare off into until the daylight had started to dim.

“Dinner is almost ready.” Yoongi persuaded her from over the pounding of water to sand. “You should come back to the house. Jungkook and Taehyung tried making Creme Brulé–Smells pretty good if I do say so myself so hopefully they didn’t fuck it up too bad.” 

Y/n barely acknowledged him with a nod. “I’ll be in then.”

His presence filtered closer, joining her in the tide pools with his hands in the pockets of his rolled up sweat pants dampened by sea spray. “Will you?” 

Y/n looked to him through the whipping of wind, and from over his shoulder she saw her–bright pink swimsuit clashing against the gray sky, hair wound up in a series of braids to keep it safe from sand and salt, her small body folded over a lump of sand her hands were reworking. Another loud wave met the shore, and the mirage vanished. Gone. Y/n had been seeing Matilda a lot these weeks, tucked in corners or leaving footprints where the water breaks. But this was the first time she had seen her so peaceful. So normal. 

“Yeah. I will.” She held her hand out for him to take, which he did so hesitantly. “Actually, I think I’m ready to go back in now.” 

“Now?” Yoongi raised a pointed brow. “So easily? You’re not going to make me drag you by the ankles back up the sand tonight?” 

“No,” Y/n laughed at the absurdity of the image. "Like you could handle that.” 

“I could!” Yoongi defended himself. 

“I don’t think so.” Y/n tugged him from the water, kicking up sand as they trudged back to the wooden box of photos near the edge of the beach. She carefully tucked the photos of her away, but one of them came loose, fluttering down to the ground at her feet that she rushed to catch before the wind carried it off any further. 

Upon further inspection, it wasn’t a picture, but a note. The little crumpled up note Adelaide had given her the weeks prior forgotten under the weight of Matilda’s loss. Y/n picked it up, pinching it open to read it again. This time the phrase seemed different–the swooping letters stretching further down the page than before. 

‘To remember what was and will be lost for how we once knew it. I encourage you to stay strong, Entlein. May you do what I could not. 

Come find me when the time is right. Until then, I’ll be waiting.

Yours truly, 

Adelaide. ’ 

“Hey!” Y/n folded the note and pocketed it swiftly, closing up the wooden box and chasing after Yoongi where he had gone ahead. Yoongi spun at her call, slowing his pace so she could catch up. “How would you feel about giving me hand? You know–with your…” she gestured to his head with a wiggle of her fingers. 

Yoongi looked taken aback. “What do you mean?” 

“There’s just…Things I want to know. Answers I need and all that crap…Just thought maybe you might be the one to go to.” Y/n gave a coy bounce of her shoulders, a smirk she was trying her best to hide breaking through. 

Yoongi’s steps faltered, his eyes alight with mirth and a knowing smile playing with the edges of his lips. “You really want to open that can of worms?” 

Y/n glanced down to the box in her hand, the weight of the note in her pocket dragging her feet into the ground with a new wave of determination. “I think I do.” 

Yoongi wet his lips to stop his grin from spreading, a disbelieving shake of his head accompanied by an airy chuckle. “You’re insane…” 

“Takes one to know one.” 

He shook his windswept hair out of his eyes and the look he gave her said she had already won. If there was one thing she could always count on him for, it would be to hit the ground running. “Well then, I guess we better work together then to try and figure out those ‘answers’ you need, huh?” 

Y/n beamed at him. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

She took his hand in hers and tugged him up the path back to the seaside home, starting forth towards their journey with stable footing and an even mind. No secrets. No walls between them; yet ten times more danger than ever before.

The hardest part was just going to be telling Jungkook, she surmised, watching him lean up against the counter with a grin on his face, laughing at something Taehyung or Jimin had said. As per usual, he sensed her approaching, flipping the smile to shine down on her through the window and melt into something softer. But something about the way he looked at her–or the way he took the time to hang photos of Matilda around the house with veneration, and spoke to her unruly spirit with patience when she would show up on their doorstep told Y/n that Jungkook might be just as ready as she was. Just as willing to take the first steps as they all would be. 

The seashell decorated wreath on the door swung on its hook as they entered, welcomed by the smell of home cooked food and sugary confections, her steps patting on the tile in the kitchen to place the wooden box on the kitchen island with the lid open. Next she splayed Adelaide’s note out beneath it for them all to see. 

“She’s still suffering there,” Y/n bit her lip, gesturing to the display. “She’s still trapped. Alone. And I can’t stop thinking about that.” 

Jimin looked at her from the stool he was perched on, with eyes gleaming with anticipation. “What would you like to do about that, my love?” 

Y/n circled the countertop to stand between him and Jungkook, one arm wrapping around his shoulders and the  other around Jungkook’s waist. “I don’t know exactly what, but all I do know is that I’d give up everything if it meant freeing her from that hell hole so we can finish this for good. Together. So what do you say?” Y/n looked around at each of her friends' faces, the food still steaming on the table ready to be picked apart and eaten. 

“You already know I’m in.” Yoongi stepped forward with his arms crossed. 

“I’m down,” Hoseok stood from the dining room table with a roll of his shoulders. “It’s been a little boring around here anyways.” 

“You mean ‘relaxing?’” Namjoon scoffed, elbowing him lightly with his dimples on display. “I can’t say I’m not going to miss not having to worry about our safety, but you can count me and my plant collection at your service.” 

Jimin leant his head on Y/n’s shoulder and tapped his fingers on the countertop restlessly. “Whatever trouble you’re getting into, I’ll follow.” He gave a pointed look to Taehyung who stood leant up against the stop top behind them, the flowery apron tied around his waist a stark contrast to the pensive expression he wore over it. They all turned to him earnestly awaiting his answer. 

He threw his hands up with a sigh. “Fuck it–I’m in. And here I thought I escaped all your strange ghost shit….” 

Y/n bumped Jungkook with her hip for he had yet to speak, which he returned with a slide of his palm in hers, eyes never leaving Matilda’s small face glowing up at them from the pile of photos. He selected one from the top of the pile and positioned it like it was a part of their makeshift circle. 

“No one gets left behind.” 

Before Y/n could release her breath of relief, the front door blew open with a gust of wind, sending a series of glasses flying out of the cupboard and smashing onto the counter top in front of them. They all ducked with a shout, covering their heads from the projectile shards that scattered about. 

Little wet footprints smacked a trail from the door to the counter, and another photo flipped out from the box to land on the counter, dotted with tiny wet fingerprints. It was a picture Y/n had taken during one of their trips to the city on a dinky disposable camera of a stone statue of a Civil War general that Matilda mimicked, held up to the podium on Jin’s scrawny shoulder since he had been the tallest at the time.  

And just like that, her moody energy dissipated, and her footsteps dried up faster than any normal puddles. 

Y/n, shaken up by the outburst, carefully shook the photo of rogue glass and held it up to the room with her lips pressed into a hard line. Jin’s youthful grimace stared them all in the face, making his absence all the more noticeable. 

“I think she’s trying to agree with us,” Y/n replaced the photo of Matilda Jungkook had selected with the one of both her and Jin. “No one should get left behind.” 

Jungkook and Namjoon took to cleaning the glass while Yoongi dusted off his protection chest, already set on warding off the bedrooms and main living areas after Matilda's outburst. Y/n sat at the table with Hoseok by her side, and her phone in her lap, their meal growing cold beside them. Y/n smiled to herself, feeling such a strong sense of Deja vu from her circumstances: her, a window with a gorgeous view, and her phone at the ready with Jin's number typed in it. Hesitating. Nervous. Unsure of what she should say.

To keep herself from overthinking it, she stamped her finger down on the call button and waited, letting it ring out into the open room. Jin picked up immediately, the line full of static while they both waited for the other to speak.

"...Is there something you need?" Jin came through, quiet and even. Awkwardness perfectly masked by an air of self-assurance.

"Actually I think there is..." Y/n's eyes tracked a lone seagull flying overhead, stretching its webbed feet down to the sand to comb for any scrap of food it could scrounge for. "How do you feel about beaches?"

That broke his composure, her question not of the gravity he was preparing himself for. "Pardon?"

And she couldn't blame him-it had been almost a month since they'd spoken to each other.

"Virginia beaches, to be specific." Y/n held the phone closer to her mouth so she could cross her arms, leaning back in her chair. "I'll send you the address if you're interested."

"Why?" Jin didn't demand an answer, but the inflection made it obvious that he knew there were reasons he shouldn't.

"I think you know the answer to that. Prophet."

Silence streamed in from the other line, filling Y/n's head with worry that she had misunderstood the vision, or that he had hung up entirely. She glanced down at the screen just to be sure right as he spoke again.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

Hoseok snickered at his urgency, leaning over to the phone to land a joke straight into the receiver. "You need me to send you a ride?"

"I think I have it covered this time, thank you."

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Book Two

“왜 항상 그렇게 빨리 움직이는 거야? 천천히 해! 내 꽃들이 다칠 거야!” : Why do you always move so quickly! Slow down! My flowers will get hurt!

taglist: @kokoandkookie@rkive-joonie@singdancedreampray@erescheese@hyperfixation-station-1234@moonxxlover

[yoongleboonglepie]

Pechsträhne Chapter 19

BTS OT7 x Reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter playlist-Youtube music

Chapter Playlist-Spotify

Word Count Approx: 20k

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A/N: Sorry this took so long. The family document has been stumping me and I decided literally last night to add something new to it because apparently I love making my life difficult.

Hope all is well with you all and that you are all soaking in the boys being back from the military!!! I know I am.

Consider this a major overall Content Warning for this chapter for spook and violence. This chapter may be very emotionally disturbing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

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recap:

“Help me! Please!” Yoongi begged, his arms beginning to bend under the strength Y/n pressed down on them with. 

That’s how he must have sounded to everyone else–begging for his life to people he couldn’t see. Hoseok fumbled with the rocks in his pocket and let them slip through his fingers. While he had no intention of touching Y/n, he was blinded. He had no choice. It wasn’t Yoongi he saw on the ground beneath her merciless stare, it was himself; small and scrawny, broken, frightened, and alone. 

Her hand moved to strike down with a piercing cry, and Hoseok lunged at her, their bodies colliding to land on the bed of broken glass below.

_________________________________________

Yoongi had hung up by the time Y/n had roused herself from sleep the following Sunday morning, though one quick glance at the call log had butterflies erupting into her empty stomach–for he had stayed on the line much longer than he had needed to. Almost four hours longer than he needed to. She couldn’t bring herself to be disgruntled at the nearly drained battery that sent consistent complaints over her screen when she knew it had all been due to Yoongi’s covert kindness. 

The previous day had hit her like a ton of bricks that morning, holding her mood hostage at a consistent low that pulled her deeper into herself. After updating the rest of them on Yoongi’s discoveries regarding his parents, she wasted the day molded into Jimin’s side on the couch of the living room with Jungkook seated on the opposite couch, movies passing by in shapeless blurs that she didn’t have the bandwidth to pay much attention to. Namjoon joined them later in the evening, sitting close to her side and casting her nervous glances that whenever she tried to meet, he quickly averted his eyes away from her with the hint of a blush on his neck. It was suspicious to say the least, but not enough to warrant any action from her–he had probably taken her last ice cream from the fridge or something trivial. He was too consistent with communicating larger concerns to her for her to feel worried.

That night she found solace once more, like a flower pushing through the cracks of a weather-beaten sidewalk: in Yoongi. The mystery number had phoned her again, his gravelly voice buzzing across the line to her in his usual calm and steady rhythm. He mumbled to her about the food he had eaten, the weather in Korea, and saved her from any prodding this time into her mental state–seemingly satisfied with the answers he had received the day before. 

She had succumbed to sleep with the sound of his distant mutterings and the electronic crackle of his breathing once more, waking up Monday feeling more tired than ever; like she hadn’t even slept at all. 

She trudged about her room, carefully avoiding the folded edges of the sheets and towels that pooled along the floor so she didn’t trip as she got ready for a hopefully much slower day at work than any day in the previous week. Jimin and Arrow had taken it upon themselves to escort Y/n to the greenhouse, the former leaving her with a sweet, chaste kiss and a bump of their foreheads, a wordless reminder of his support before they parted ways. The lingering tingle of his mouth had her floating through the first water of the greenhouse, where this time she left the hose unraveled on the floor to remind herself that the task had truly been completed. 

And she believed it, double checking that the green nylon was curled in a heap on the concrete floor each time she passed by. That was until she had left for the bathroom and returned, finding Namjoon hovering over a droopy looking pepper plant, its leaves rippled and weighed down with thirst. His broad shoulders stiffened with her entrance, and he tapped his fingers on the table anxiously while his eyes tracked her movements from the entrance into the backroom, watching her lean over the hose that was neatly rolled up and tucked away. 

“I was just going to water these. It’s really no big deal, you’ve been stressed–and you’ve had two head injuries–” 

Y/n cut off his nervous rambling with a sharp glare, her mind swarming with self-doubt and anger that was directed at no one but herself. She had been sure she had watered the very plant he fiddled with, even gone as far as to see its leaves plump up with a vibrant green glow and drip with residual droplets. 

With a huff, Y/n unraveled the hose again, and when she was sure Namjoon was observing her motions, she showered every plant on both floors to the point of overflow. This was going to piss her off–scratch that–it already was pissing her off. She couldn’t come up with any reasonable explanation for what was occurring; she could try to blame Candida, but she had only seen her reflection hovering after her in the background or haunting her dreams. Never had she shown herself in any other capacity. 

Perhaps Y/n was really just misremembering things. 

Doubt billowed over her like fog over a small hillside town, blocking her senses and muddling her self-confidence. Tuesday left her just as lost, first it was just the water (or lack thereof), then on her morning escort with Jungkook down the gravel path, two of the pavers had been cracked–split down the middle by the sudden heat of the hot sun. However when he had wordlessly walked her back for lunch, they had miraculously fused back together as if no crack had ever existed; only for the paver to disappear entirely on their way back from lunch. 

To make matters worse, only half of the plants stayed watered, and she couldn’t decide what was worse: having zero sign of her previous actions that she could chalk up to a false memory, or a partial sign that she had actually done her rounds with the hose, but without a solid foundation of completion. Namjoon was patient as ever, if anything even more so without the event hanging over their heads and busying his mind and body. Thus he guided her with patient hands, following after her a few paces behind while she went about her watering duties, even going as far as to help hold the hose with one large gloved hand inching dangerously close to hers but never touching, and his body heat engulfing her flank at their proximity. 

Y/n felt like she was losing her mind, and it wasn’t even over things that she necessarily needed to share–in fact she didn’t want to share it. They would no doubt look at her with a mixed bag of emotions, some notable ones probably being concern, pity, or judgment. And she had no interest in bearing the brunt of any of those things. 

The sun vanished by the late afternoon. Its golden warmth had been taken over by bluish gray clouds that hung low near the trees and cast a cool toned filter over their surroundings, thickening the air with the oncoming rain and sweltering humid heat. Jungkook had come to pick her up with his hands tucked into his scrub pockets and his eyes as dark and shrouded as the stormy skies above them. 

Their pace was slow and uninterrupted by any discussion, as was their new usual. It was something she didn’t focus on for once, as her mind was preoccupied with counting the pavers alongside the path until she reached the one she was looking for: the seventeenth paver from the greenhouse-completely intact and unbroken-returned to its spot from earlier that day. She paused, her feet stilling alongside it, her eyes tracing the ridges and the porous surface of the stone. Jungkook stopped only a second after her, carefully scrutinizing each one of her movements as she bent down to inspect the stone closer. 

“Have you noticed anything strange about this?” Y/n broke their silence with a gesture of her chin down towards the paver in question, drilling her eyes into it for any sign of mischief like the stone had come to life and was intentionally messing with her. 

Jungkook grunted, stepping close to her and looking down at it from above. “The rock?” 

“Yeah.” Y/n agreed distractedly, directing all of her frustrations from the day onto the rock in front of her with narrowed eyes. 

Jungkook sighed through his nose but humored her anyways, bending at the waist to peer down at it, a few overgrown curls further coiled by the heavy humidity falling against his temple. After only a handful of seconds, he stood back straight with a miniscule shrug. “No. It’s a rock.” 

Y/n withheld the urge to roll her eyes, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snipping up at him. “Sorry for asking,” Y/n muttered under her breath, shaking her head and reaching one hand out to touch the said rock. Its scalloped edges looked as inconspicuous as ever. Jungkook huffed, and crouched down next to her with one of his lips sucked under his teeth.

 “Will you stop that?” He remarked coldly, brow furrowing and one of his hands coming up to circle her wrist and pull her hand away from the rock. “Why won’t you just talk to me?” 

“Me?” Y/n gaped incredulously at him. “You should be asking yourself that question!” 

The two of them were locked in a tense stare down, the air feeling nearly electric from the pull of his commanding energy that radiated from his form. What audacity he had, to demand something from her when he had offered her so little, knowing what she was going through with everything piling up on her plate and pushing her down further and further into something she couldn’t recognize: lost, and uncertain of herself. 

He clenched his jaw and the muscles of his cheek twitched, but he didn’t back down. Y/n’s attention flickered down from his eyes to the movement of his mouth that shifted from side to side with the press of teeth against teeth,  her eyes outlining the shape of his mouth in a way that wavered her resolve. Her indignation melted into something else, something rooted in curiosity and want. The want to feel his mouth press against hers, hot and angry like the way he looked at her right now, wild and charged with the suffocating pressure that ebbed and flowed between them and made her middle flood with warmth.

She almost felt herself subconsciously teeter closer to him, bringing their faces marginally closer in a shaky jolt. 

Movement scuttled to her right, and her head jerked back to the paver–more accurately to the bushes of flowers and shrubbery behind it that's branches jostled and swayed from the movement. Y/n shook herself free of the hold his energy had trapped her in, and inspected the shadowy spaces between the branches for whatever had disturbed them. 

Something glinted up at her from the darkness, cut off only by swinging bush limbs that blocked the patches of sunlight from reflecting off of the shiny surface every couple of seconds or so. She leant forward, using both hands to pull apart the brush just enough to make out what exactly was waiting behind its green curtains. 

Her chest tightened, and her muscles went rigid at the sight before her, her breath halting in place–not even a gasp could push its way through her lips. All Y/n could see at first was thick red liquid pooled at the base of the bush, then the scene became clearer to her. 

An oversized deer mouse with a round protruding belly had flopped on its side against the fallen plant matter, its eyes unseeing and bulging from its small pointed face. Along the mouse’s flank was a sizable slash as though it had run up against a fence and caught itself on a loose wire, staining its fur with inky black blood that turned crimson in the snippets of light that managed to shine through the gaps her hand had made. Its legs kicked haplessly in circles while its mouth shrieked with high-pitched cries that stabbed through her heart. The creature’s skin convulsed, as though something was moving beneath the tawny fur and down towards its once white underside, its muscles spasming visibly in discomfort when it approached the concave of its chest.   

With own final choking breath the creature stilled. The only remnants of its life being the listless ticking of its paws, and the trickle of red from its side onto the ground below. Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes at the sight of the poor creature, and she was able to find her breath once more. 

“Oh god…” Y/n brought one hand up to her mouth to shield her nose from the smell that wafted up from  the carcass, but it was too strong. It smelt of iron and an earthy musk that only a mouse could carry, though she felt guilty for gagging–it wasn’t its fault it had suffered such a gruesome fate.  

She moved slowly as if the air was thick as molasses, eyes searching for something to leave behind for it like a child would–a flower or a pretty stone perhaps. However the mouse’s leg gave a rather large kick that brought her attention flying back to it before her fingers could pluck a bulb from the neighboring bush. 

The mouse rolled itself over to its side to face her, dead beady eyes staring straight through her with a sentience that felt almost human in nature. All at once, the mouse leapt to its feet with a defiant screech and lunged from the brush towards Y/n’s face, to which she lurched to the side with sudden scream. 

Y/n fell back onto the gravel behind her in her hurry to dodge the flying rodent, and scrambled as far as she could from it, running her hands over herself to bat away its oncoming attack. But it never came. 

Her eyes met Jungkook who hadn’t offered up a single reaction until then, and the tears she originally wept for the weak rodent pooled in her waterline out of fear and frustration: for there was no mouse to be found. 

“What happened?” Jungkook was on her before she could breathe, pulling the both of them to her feet and creating a few feet of distance between them and the bush. “Did you see something?” 

Y/n’s mouth opened and closed as she gaped at the spot where she had last seen it. If he had to ask her such a question, it meant he hadn’t seen or heard the mouse at all and it left her wanting to crawl out of her skin–to run somewhere–but she didn’t know where. Where could she possibly run from her own mind? 

 It opened the door to the possibility that anything and everything she saw wasn’t real, and if she couldn’t trust herself, how could she ever begin to explain it to anyone else? 

“I saw…” Y/n swallowed, doing her best to calm her racing heart while she weighed the pros and cons of telling the truth. 

“Can you just spit it out? Are you slow? This is getting fucking annoying.” 

Y/n whipped her head around to meet his pinched expression, astounded with utter disbelief that he would speak to her so. “Excuse me? What did you just say to me?” Both shame and rage ignited within her–she was already ashamed to let the experience rattle her so easily, but did it call for such an attitude from him? 

Jungkook tilted his head in a manner that was far too gentle for whatever vitriol had just spit through his teeth, clearly puzzled at her response. “...I asked if you wanted me to find Jimin or Namjoon?” 

Y/n felt herself begin to shake, her legs felt like jelly and her insides churned at the same speed that her skin crawled. She wanted to run. She wanted to vomit all over the gravel below them–fall to her knees and pull at the suddenly suffocating confines of her work overalls in exasperation and maybe a half-assed prayer to whatever deity decided to listen. 

That is not at all what she had heard him say. 

“No it’s fine. I’m fine–it’s all fine. I just need a good shower and a good night’s sleep. I’m exhausted.” Y/n shoved her trembling hands into her pockets to keep the physical view of her fright from his gaze, but she knew it was pointless. “I just need to sleep.” 

Y/n stifled a gasp as Jungkook brought the tips of his fingers up to graze the skin of her forearm, lightly tracing them up from her wrist to her elbow where they paused, suspended over the joint with visible indecision. He apprehensively grabbed onto it, and pulled her into him for the briefest moment–a kind of makeshift hug that ended just as soon as it had started. He averted his eyes from her as he led her by the soft grip of her elbow to back to the Estate in a daze, only coming out of it once her door had started to come into view. 

“Here is fine, I can get situated on my own.” Y/n hastily pushed past him to get to her door first, not wanting him to look inside her room for a reason she couldn’t place. It felt wrong, like if he were to go in he could ruin it all with one look.

He looked torn, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip and his hands finding his scrub pockets once more. Then as if remembering something, he stood straight, and took small steps backward down the hall towards the landing to find his own room. He moved like it was painful for him to walk away from her, and Y/n didn’t want to admit that deep down, she didn’t want him to leave either. 

“Okay. Stay safe.” He gave her one final affirming nod, and waited until she had disappeared into her room to exit the hallway. 

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Dinner had become an event she most dreaded. Having to put up an act of nonchalance for her mother and Jin while coping with the empty space where Hoseok should be was not helpful to her already diminishing appetite. Luckily, she had Yoongi and their new nightly routine to look forward to each time Jimin walked her to her room with an offer to stay that she continuously declined. While she thought she would be jumping for joy at the prospect of spending the night with him again, the thought of letting him in her room had alarm bells blaring in her mind, and her hands racing to push him away from her door as quickly as possible. And going to his room was out of the question–too many reflective surfaces to cover. 

Perhaps that’s why Yoongi had become her saving grace; she didn’t have to let him in her room to accept his company.

 Again, he took charge of the conversation in order to rant to her about his day, this conversation having taken on the specific topic of his cousin and her rambunctious twin toddlers he had gone out to visit the previous afternoon–most notably how heavy they were for their age. 

“It’s no surprise the twins are both complete units. They were born at a little over 9 pounds each. God,” Yoongi blew out a reverential breath, “I feel like I should get my cousin a second gift–I held the two of them for five minutes and felt like my arms would fall off. I can’t imagine the two of them pressing on my bladder and kicking the shit out of my insides for nine months.” Yoongi laughed quietly, and Y/n hummed in acknowledgement of his joke, a small puff of air to signify she understood his joke. Talking felt like a chore, but thankfully he seemed to pick up on that and effortlessly carried the discussion.  

“If I ever have kids, I hope they are as scrawny as I was. For everyone’s sake.” Yoongi heaved a sigh, and she heard him grunt as he laid back on what she presumed was his bed. “Don’t let my mom hear me say that though. She’s already on me enough as it is–she’ll think the mere mention of them is a promise of their poor existence.” 

Y/n blanched, the one arm draped lazily over her eyes to keep herself from looking anywhere she shouldn’t stiffen. “Your mom asks about kids?” 

“Unfortunately. Something about carrying on the legacy and all that. You’re lucky you’ve been away from home all these years in that regard. You missed out on all of the guilt tripping from the parents about how we are denying them the ‘grandparent experience.’” 

“I haven’t even thought about that kind of thing since I left, if I'm being honest.” Y/n let herself ponder the thought of children, if only for a moment. She had never been staunchly against them, as it was always assumed she would probably have one of her own with their family history. But as of late, she didn’t see herself even humoring the idea while barely managing herself through her broken college experience and whatever this was. “And I surely can’t waste the time on it now. Not until we get this figured out.” 

Yoongi was quiet for a few beats, and when he finally spoke it was quiet, like he was telling her a secret. “I haven’t really thought about it ever. I was always under the assumption that I’d be a horrible parent.” 

“You?” Y/n felt shock take over her obscured features. “I always thought you’d be one of the good ones out of all of us. Especially with how good you were with all of us as kids.” 

“Being a kid with other kids is different than being an adult with a small human depending on you for every need–to teach them how to live when I barely feel like I have a good grasp on it myself sounds like something that’s doomed to fail.” Yoongi spoke honestly, a small dip in his tone signifying his vulnerability. “You mess up and they are fucked up for life.” 

“That’s true…” Y/n trailed off, raking her mind for her next thoughts. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great dad. Being able to admit you aren’t perfect is a wonderful first step.” Y/n swallowed sharply, unsure why the thought of Yoongi with a baby tucked into his arm made her throat feel dry. “ First, we just have to find you a good partner to settle down with.” 

Yoongi barked out a short laugh that died into soft chuckles. “Now you’re starting to sound like my mom…” 

“Sorry.” Y/n mimicked his chuckle with a small giggle of her own. “Just trying to think optimistically about something other than all of this. Something to look forward to in the future”

Yoongi hummed pensively, and Y/n cringed as the wet sound of his lips smacking idly carried through the line. “You look forward to my future?” He was teasing her, but only just so. 

“I mean–yes. Because it’s our future. Hopefully this will all be a memory then, and we can live freely like our parents did with each other.” Y/n was talking nonsense now, and she knew it. This would have unprecedented long long-lasting effects that they could only guess. Her eyes peeked through a gap in her arm at her clock, noticing it was past midnight and only growing later–she should really try and get some shuteye, but she couldn’t get herself to stop listening to the sound of his voice.

“Our future?” Yoongi uttered the question quietly, as though he was saying something he shouldn’t. 

Y/n flushed, heat creeping up her neck and growing warmer. “Yeah. You know…like old times. I want to stay here with everyone if I can help it. You can’t get rid of me that easily now that I’ve tasted home.” 

“Careful with your words now,” Yoongi lilted softly, laughing under his breath with a weightless threat. “You almost had me thinking you were about to propose for our second marriage.”   

“Oh no–I wouldn’t do it like this!” A smile curled the side of Y/n’s mouth up, playing into his jest. It felt good to joke around with someone again. “What do you take me for? A loser? If I proposed to you, I would at least do it in person.” 

“Really? So you’ve thought about it before?” Now Yoongi was just absolutely eating her up, a shit-eating grin audible from his tone that she could see as clearly as if he was laying next to her with his head on the adjacent pillow. “I was joking when I called myself devilishly handsome before, but maybe I was just reading your mind…” 

“Oh dear lord,” Y/n groaned, sliding her hand down her now hot face. 

“So what is this proposal plan? Sounds like you’ve spent hours thinking it up I’m sure.” 

“Shut up I have not! Now you’re just being a menace.” Y/n shook her head even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “I only just now thought about it.” 

“Uh-huh. Sure. What is it then?” Yoongi egged her on with a snicker, a shuffling sound coming from the other line as he made himself more comfortable. “And don’t skimp on the details–I’m difficult to please.” 

“Oh I’m sure you are…which means you only deserve the best!” Y/n’s flushed face split into a grin of her own. “It will start with flower petals, and end with fireworks. As for the middle I’m still working that out–perhaps a water feature and a massive choir to serenade you with song. Hell, throw in some cannons from town and see where that takes us.” 

Yoongi burst into clamorous joy that squeaked across the line from the back of his throat that Y/n couldn’t help but join in on with a bubbling laugh that felt real–warm, unstoppable and carefree. Something she felt only with Jimin as of late.

“You drive a hard bargain. I’ll have to seriously consider your offer…” 

Y/n gasped in mock offense that was cut apart by rogue giggles. “You mean you weren’t considering it before? How rude!” 

“Like I said, I’m hard to please.”  

The line was interrupted for a few minutes, and Y/n’s brain filled the silence with thoughts of something that felt…forbidden. Something that felt wrong and shameful in the fact of their mere occurrence: What being married to Yoongi might actually look like. 

She shouldn’t–she couldn’t. To humor them would be imprudent and irresponsible, even when wisps of imagination curled delicately around her mind and knocked on the door of her consciousness with the smell of day-old tea and charcoal that begged her to let it in.

Nope. Not a good idea. 

But if she were to let herself imagine it, it would probably take on a look of half-moon coffee stains from a mug on wooden tables that he left far too close to his elbow for him to bump into each time he swung his wrist in arcs over his paper. Maybe a few late night trips to whatever store was open and sold sketching pencils or paper, or even a quick bite to eat when he forgot to feed himself that evening; and Y/n would look for another book or crafting hobby she could entertain herself with on his bed–their bed–when he returned to his drawings. In this world, the three of them would travel –Jimin, Yoongi, and herself–off to somewhere far off where Jimin could tell her of the local history while Yoongi made quick-handed sketches of the local architecture. Jungkook would be there too, looming nearby with whatever street food he could get his hands on with one of his crooked grins stuck on his face at something one of the boys said. And if she was adding people, it would only make sense for Namjoon to linger beside her with his long legs bent as they sat perched on a bench, leaning back on one hand that was behind her at an angle so their sides brushed whenever he bent down to help her plan where they would eat that evening.

Yoongi would offer her a secure harbor to exist without judgment, safe from the world that badgered her with whatever verdict they bestowed upon her. And in turn, she would make sure he felt something for himself; something merciful, patient, and indulgent. Something he had been deprived of in recent years. 

And maybe–just maybe if the two of them felt so inclined–there would be a version of him that sat in one of the living room recliners with deep bags under his eyes in a paint-stained hoodie and his lids hung low over his eyes. Soft snores escaping through slightly parted lips with a small newborn tucked into the crook of his elbow that he rocked gently in dim lamplight. With how young it was, its small face is barely distinguishable from any other baby, but Y/n could almost make out the same rounded tip of the nose that Yoongi had. 

“You still there?” Yoongi inquired faintly from the speaker, yanking her from her delusional fantasies. Guilt washed over her like a cold shower, spreading down her nerves like prickles of ice. What was she doing? This was not only disrespectful to Yoongi, but Jimin too. Y/n felt as she had once did when she was younger, like she wanted to bury herself in the basement to hide from her own wandering mind that brought nothing but shame to herself. 

Y/n cleared her throat and thanked the heavens that he couldn’t see her at the moment. “Yeah–sorry I just completely zoned out.” 

“You’re probably tired.” Yoongi observed, clicking his tongue faintly, his tone becoming sharp. “What do you think you’re doing thinking stuff up like that? Do you really think I’d want that with someone like you?” 

“W-what?” Y/n stammered around a promptly heavy tongue, her embarrassment consuming her. Could he seriously read her over the phone? “I didn’t mean to–I wasn’t–I’m sorry I was just-” 

“Hey, hey–what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?” Yoongi’s worry carried clearly across the line, and she heard the telltale sound of him bringing the phone closer to his mouth. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just thinking–it was stupid I’m sorry.” Y/n’s throat felt tight and dry, like its walls were grating against one another with each rushed apology. “I won’t do it again. It was out of line…” 

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi interrogated, pushing forth to add clarification. “I just asked what time it was there.”

“You–what?” Y/n hesitated, unsure if it was safe to feel relieved. That definitely was not what she had heard him say. “Is that really what you had said? Can you read me over the phone?” 

“I mean, I can pick up your tone pretty easily, but as for a genuine reading, no. Why d’you ask?” 

“I must’ve…I must’ve just misheard you then. Maybe I really should try to get some sleep…” Y/n’s voice died in her throat as her mind replayed his words of disapproval in her mind. They had sounded so real…as did the humiliation that still throbbed from behind her ribs down to the tips of her toes.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright?” Yoongi finally asked the age-old question everyone seemed to be asking her, whether with their words or the way they danced around her in some silent dance, none of them brave enough to verbally bring up Candida any more. 

And with the comfort of knowing he really couldn’t read her, Y/n sucked in a quiet breath and forced her breathing to even out, daring a glance out from beneath her arm up to her ceiling light to easily make out the shape of the ghostly woman’s body pacing alongside her bed in a dark blur. That was the second time that day she had misheard someone. Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence. Y/n prayed there wouldn’t be a third. She didn’t think she could handle the self-doubt that plagued her with each sentence shared between them now…was he even talking to her at all?

“Yeah,” Y/n remarked passively, following Candida’s path from her door to the edge of her bed in the brassy reflection. She clutched her phone tighter, and squeezed her eyes shut to imagine rotating images of her friends like talismans that warded the spirit away with each flash of Jungkook’s dark eyes, Yoongi’s comforting presences or Jimin’s tight embrace. “I’m okay.” 

_________________________________________

Wednesday was hot in the worst kind of way–highs in the low nineties with overwhelming humidity to match. Her clothes already felt too sticky from just walking along the path down to the greenhouse with Jimin at her side. She felt a bit livelier that morning, like her phone conversations with Yoongi had breathed a puff of life back into her bones for the time being. 

Jimin looked like the heat didn’t even get to him in the slightest, his crisp white button down tucked into a pair of black jeans, his hair picturesque, falling into place in a way that she always used to tease him for. She would have giggled and jokingly called him a god with the way he managed to keep himself presentable and insisted the hot sun didn’t get to him, like she couldn’t see the perspiration on the back of his neck. Though now she just couldn’t help but grin like a hopeless romantic. Because the way his highlights shone in the light or his mouth moved around his words and stretched into a soft smile when he brought up a group of local elementary school students he was set to give a tour to that afternoon, and the way his hand fit so snugly against her own was hers. He was hers in this new, exciting way that made her feel elated, and with a surge of confidence, she cut off his idle chatter with a tug of his hand and a sudden kiss to his lips.

At this moment, Candida felt far away from her like a distant memory or a nightmare from weeks past. This felt better than being locked away in her room–why had she ever let herself think otherwise?

“What was that for?” Jimin smiled with a delighted (albeit slightly cocky) curve of the side of his mouth. 

Y/n offered a coy shrug, and continued in step down the path with their sides pressed against one another. “Dunno. Just wanted to, and realized I could.” 

Jimin’s eyes formed crescents as he let out a few twinkling laughs before looking down his nose at her with tenderness. “Well, you can do it whenever you like.”

The door to the greenhouse drew nearer, and before Y/n could talk herself out of it, she spun herself around to pull his face to hers, slotting her lips between his in a kiss he was ready for this time-devouring her with an unexpected fervor that left her gasping for breath. The heat from the air felt like nothing compared to the spark that ignited in her belly when his hands slid down her waist to sit over her hips, his fingertips dancing down her sides in a way that made her breath catch against his lips. Her fingers gripped the collar of his shirt to keep him pressed flat against her front. She wanted to feel nothing but his touch and the rush that came from it.

Jimin (to her disappointment) slowed the movement of their mouths and dragged his hands back up to tickle her sides. She felt giddy from their kiss that was now broken up by a few shared giggles, pressing their foreheads against each other with a final few pecks that had her heart beating quickly in her ears. 

“Whenever I like?” Y/n’s words fell breathlessly between them. 

“Whenever you like–I encourage it.” Jimin sounded just as pleased as she felt, and his face melted into one of mischief. “Actually come to think of it— I was prescribed love and affection by my doctor, I fear I shall need to kiss you each morning to stay healthy. I might wither away to dust if I don’t.” 

“Dramatic much?” Y/n bit her lip to keep her grin from spreading wider at his cheesy antics, and took a slow bouncing step back. “Well I’m glad you won’t wither away today then.” 

“Nope. I should stay strong and healthy until this afternoon. Though I might need another dose in the evening….” Jimin watched her take her leave with a fondness in his gaze that had adoration pouring between her ribs like a waterfall. The urge to fall into him again nearly irresistible.

“I think I can manage that.” Y/n spun to face the greenhouse, but before she could make it to the door, she twirled back once more for she had forgotten to ask him for her daily update on Bear, who as far as she was aware still remained rather mute. 

“Oh! Has Bear–” Y/n staggered backwards, for Jimin was standing right before her, his body unstable and weighed down to lean to one side. Y/n brought both hands up to her mouth to stifle her screams at the sight of his once lively face that had turned white as a sheet, his eyes black and sunken into his skull, and his mouth undulating in mindless circles in a zombie-like manner. His throat gargled with erratic noises and clicking sounds from his jaw snapping in and out of place repeatedly. Both of his hands came out to grip her shoulders, and Y/n shuddered out a yelp and found herself turning to run from his grasp, but couldn’t shake the strength of his grip. 

“Y/n! S-stay with me here–what’s going on? Arrow! Namjoon!” 

In the blink of an eye, his face had returned to its normal shade and his eyes were the liquid honey color she knew like the back of her hand, the irises swarmed with worry for her panicked state. He was close, his grip strong but not as commanding as it was seconds prior. He had tossed a glance over each shoulder as he called out for assistance, though he never took his eyes from her for more than a half second. 

The greenhouse door swung open behind her and Namjoon bustled out from the door in a hurry, searching eyes, stopping to fix her with a look not unfamiliar to the day he had discovered her bruising: anxious yet stern. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” 

They were asking too many questions that she didn’t know the answer to–too many words were bouncing off of her eardrums for her to even begin processing. She couldn’t get the image of Jimin all rotted and decayed that had burned itself onto the back of her eyelids out of her mind. She needed to get out–get away from everyone's smothering unease for just a second. 

“I’m alright–j-just need the bathroom.” Y/n took off without thinking, her pitiful excuse doing nothing to stop Jimin and Namjoon from hurrying after her hot on her heels. 

Y/n barreled through the front door just as her mother was leaving, the two of them colliding at full force with a knock of air from her lungs. 

“Y/n? What is this?” Y/n didn’t stay to hear her admonishing words, shoving past her to let Jimin handle and darting down the downstairs hall to make a sharp right into one of the downstairs bathrooms. She could hear her muted calls for her, but her mother didn’t pursue her like Jimin and Namjoon did, the two of them shouldering past her on the stairs in time for her to close the door to the washroom and lock it behind her. 

Y/n’s chest shuddered with uneven breaths with the start of a panic attack that was only encouraged by an unexpected pair of glowing golden eyes snarling back at her in the mirror that she dove to curl herself beneath the sink cupboards to avoid. She had completely forgotten in her hurry that normal bathrooms weren’t blanketed in sheets and towels. Curses spilled from her mouth for whoever had invented the mirror and decided one needed to be in every bathroom. She could feel her hands shaking as she gripped her knees up to press her forehead against the enclosed space her body created, amplifying her breathing to levels that mimicked the crash of ocean waves in her ears. 

Of course the universe had to remind her of its cold-hearted ways in a way that was entirely unforgivable. She had been too joyful with him for their liking it seemed, and they must have seen it as an opportunity to put her in her place once more. 

Namjoon and Jimin stood on either side of the door, sharing urgent whispers back and forth to one another that she couldn’t make out. Not until a curt knock rang out and Namjoon’s deep voice beckoned to her from the other side of the door.  “Can I come in? Or I can send Jimin in. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.” 

Y/n knew he was only trying to help, but if someone asked her another question her skull might implode. “Please just stop asking me questions! Just give me a second please!” She begged with hands clasped over her ears, her voice coming out much more desperate than she had hoped it would. 

“I really, really want to. I do–but Y/n you are in a random room by yourself. Please let one of us in so we can just make sure you don’t get hurt.” Namjoon was always a voice of reason, even when she hated it. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” 

The gravity of his observation set in, and she realized just the predicament she had put herself in. She stayed on her hands and knees, and scurried across the tiled floor to unlock the door, grabbing the handle and pushing it open to let in a thin strip of light. 

Namjoon slipped through the crack and closed the door behind himself, and with a pang of guilt she was grateful it wasn’t Jimin–facing him again after what she had seen was something unthinkable. One of his hands rose to flick the light switch on and Y/n rushed to stop him, tugging on the hem of his shirt to grab his attention. “Don’t! I don’t want to see her!” 

The dark was safe–the dark was necessary. 

He listened accordingly, dropping his hand to his side and lowering himself down to her height. She could barely see him with the only light source being the crack of the door near the floor from the hall, but she could smell the scent of sunshine and earth on his skin partnered with fresh peppermint and lemon balm from his morning cup of tea. 

Y/n cast a nervous glance in the direction of the mirror and took little time in grabbing his arm and dragging him to her safe spot beneath the cabinets where the reflection wouldn’t be able to pick her up. “Come over here, quick! She won’t be able to see me here.” Y/n settled herself on the cushy mat and yanked him down to sit with her. “I just need a minute to calm down–I just got overwhelmed, is all. Must be a fluke anxiety attack or something from everything that’s happened.”

Pathetic. Her excuse was beyond pathetic. Not even a toddler would believe such a poorly weaved lie. 

As opposed to what she would have expected from him, Namjoon was reserved–uncomfortably so. He appeared to be out of things to say, and that scared her more than if he had started to spew out words of comfort or chastise her for running. The faint light highlighted the apple of his cheek, and the way he chewed on his tongue gave away the way he was locked in his own thoughts. 

Instead of speaking, he threw one of his long arms up and over her shoulders and held her against his side, and she welcomed the warmth his hold provided on her unusually chilled skin. The exact opposite, she noted, of how she had felt minutes before when she had thought she might melt from the heat. They stayed that way for a few minutes, the scent of the laundry detergent from his shirt and the smell of his skin enough to pull her back down from her panic to something adjacent to calm.

“Can you say something? Your silence is freaking me out…” Y/n attempted to joke, but it fell flat. 

Namjoon sighed heavily and shook his head. His voice was weighed down with exhaustion that wasn’t just physical. “What do you want me to say Y/n? You just begged me to stop talking. And no matter what I say, you won’t talk to me anyway–not truthfully.” 

Y/n picked her head up off his chest and looked at him wearily, one of her hands picked at the fabric of his light colored fitted t-shirt as she spoke. “I’m sorry. I just overreacted to something, but I am being honest. I haven’t been lying.” 

“Seriously?” His sharp reproving glare was sharp enough to glint in the low light. “You keep telling everyone you’re fine–meanwhile you’re far from it. How do you think it feels for all of us to see you like this? To watch you spiral into something…something-” 

“Something what?” Y/n apprehensively asked, voice barely above a murmur. 

Namjoon tongued at his cheek, his brows twitching upwards in poorly concealed astonishment. “Something that isn’t you.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Y/n recoiled from him with her hackles raised, the insinuation making her want to push him away and run to her room to hide. It didn’t feel safe here any longer. “ I am me, very much so. Nothing about me has changed.” 

“Really? Nothing? So you’ve always covered your room in sheets?” His argument was bulletproof, and the glint in his eyes said that he knew so. “You’ve always pushed us away adamantly? Y/n, you’ve been snippy and agitated since Saturday. You won’t let Jimin stay with you, or any of us even near your room at all.” Namjoon pivoted his upper body to face her, gesturing with his hands for further emphasis. “At work, it's like you’re not even there anymore. When you aren’t doing the same task over and over again, you’re staring off into space for who knows how long. You’re forgetting everything you need to do and doing things you shouldn’t be. You and Jungkook? The two of you are practically at each other's throats. And while I’m usually on your side, this time I see his more.”  Y/n scoffed at that, but let him continue on. “Don’t even get me started on your sleep–you’re lucky Yoongi is able to call you every night, otherwise I doubt you’d be able to function at all.” 

Y/n furrowed her brows, and found herself inching further away from Namjoon’s hold even though she wanted to do anything but. “How do you know about Yoongi? I only told you guys we talked once…” 

Namjoon’s mouth smacked shut, and she could feel the heat radiating from his face in waves. 

“Namjoon.” Y/n tried again, digging into the side of his face with squinted eyes. “How do you know we’ve talked every night?” 

“You mentioned it.” He managed to choke out, his hands wiping the sweat from his palms onto his shorts. “Yesterday at work.” 

Y/n poured through her memories, but she knew she would find no such occurrence. She could vividly remember not having told anyone about her late-night talks with the older man because she wanted to keep them private. Joon had grown a lot since they were children–emotionally and physically–but if there was one thing everyone knew about him, it was that he was incapable of telling a lie. Which is what he was trying to do right now. “No, I didn’t Joon.” 

Namjoon cleared his throat twice, then used both hands to pull her close to him again in a crushing hug that made the temperature of his flush more apparent. “It must’ve just slipped your memory. Nothing a hug can’t fix!” His chuckle was choppy and forced. “We are planting the garden boxes today, so that should hopefully help you take your mind off of everything.” 

The pressure within the small four walls of the bathroom skyrocketed, pushing down on Y/n’s bones and leaving the air dense and chilled with the new presence that apparated within the room.

“He’s lying and you know it.” A hiss crept up from the shadows of the room, slithering into her ears like a snake that writhed and wriggled up the cabinets to perch its head on her shoulder. 

She waited in the dark room, with Namjoon’s heart beating against her cheek in a constant rhythm, expecting its tempo to pick up or the hair on his arms to stand tall at the intrusion of the voice. But none of the sort occurred, for he had heard nothing. 

It spoke again, this time close enough to her ear to feel the puffs of air it released against her face. “He lies. You can not trust him.” 

No, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut as though the action itself would will the voice away. He is my friend, she repeated adamantly in her mind a few times until she thought she was safe. But she wasn’t, because it too, waited patiently for her to finish. 

“The title of friend means naught. Though you need not take my word for it, watch and see for yourself. They will slip, and you will catch it. All of them.” 

Y/n shook her head against Namjoon’s side, and gripped the fabric of his shirt in her fist. No. 

“Yes. You can not deny it any longer. They must go, and you need to pursue your destiny on your own.” 

In a frightening surge of fury, as though the hypnotizing words awakened something within her, Y/n felt the impulsive urge to climb over Namjoon’s lap and put both her hands around his neck so he couldn’t make any more aggravating assumptions. So he wouldn’t be able to ask any more questions. She clenched her fists so tightly to keep them from moving on their own accord that they shook in her lap, and the skin of her knuckles stretched thin over the bone. The thought kept repeating in her mind over and over again like it was the only thing she knew–like it was the air she breathed and the blood that flowed in her veins. To hurt.

To kill. 

The comfort she had originally felt from the pulse of his heart left her thirsty, it crawled under her skin and echoed in her skull like a drum. 

Thump. 

“It would be quick.” 

Thump. 

“Easy.” 

Thump. 

“Unstoppable.”

“No!” Y/n shouted, her voice echoing in the small bathroom and bouncing back into her own ears. She shot forwards and put a few feet of space between them, and subsequently the violent urges died the moment their skin lost contact. 

Namjoon jumped in his seat and made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat, giving her a look of bewilderment and reaching out to her cautiously with one arm. “Y/n?” 

“Don’t–don’t touch me.” Y/n crawled to her feet and wrenched open the door where Jimin stood, his hair disheveled from how many times he had run his hands through it. In his eyes, he concealed an emotion that flickered out of sight the moment she laid eyes on him. 

She turned to him, her words coming out short and accusatory and her arms winding around her middle to shield herself from him. “What could you hear?” 

Jimin faltered for just long enough for her eye to twitch, but not long enough for her to pinpoint whether it was dishonesty or shock. “Nothing…” He gave her a once over, one eyebrow quivering upwards. “Should I have?” 

“Liar.” The voice whispered from the bathroom, a satisfaction evident in the uptilt of its tone.

“No.” Y/n stepped past him, careful not to touch the skin of his arm as she passed. “There was nothing to hear.  I need to get to work.” 

Work sounded lovely–Y/n needed to get her hands in some dirt. She needed to be away from it all. She couldn’t actually let herself fall for the trickery of a disembodied voice from an unprotected bathroom. Her friends were her everything, and they always had been. They were her rock throughout this whole ordeal, and there was nothing that could make her throw them all away like they hadn’t been part of the reason she was even able to make it this far.

But the voice she had heard lingered in her mind as the day came and went (not too different from the previous day, save for there was no undead mouse to scare her from beneath a bush). It called to her from her subconscious every time Namjoon avoided holding her eyes for too long, or the way Jimin shifted uncomfortably next to her at the dinner table like he was itching to say something. The final straw was Jungkook’s passive nature that had overcome him. Gone was the argumentative and conflicted character he had created–now all that was left was a malleable version of himself that gave her nothing. It was utterly suspicious to say the least.

She wanted to–no–she needed to escape to her room to call Yoongi. Yoongi would surely make it better. 

But then a thought struck her as she climbed the stairs back to her room with Jimin following a few steps behind, plush lips pressing into a thin line as he thought to himself with the same conflicted expression he had worn for the entirety of their meal. If Y/n hadn’t told Namjoon she had been calling Yoongi each night, then who had? 

As far as she was aware, only Y/n and Yoongi knew of their phone calls–and it surely hadn’t been her. 

_________________________________________

Safe. So very safe. 

Y/n’s room welcomed her into its gloomy embrace. Sound felt warped by the sheer amount of cloth that hung from each corner and each piece of furniture that could even hint at a reflection, and she liked the muted atmosphere it created. Like no sound or demon could penetrate her fortress of thread and cotton. 

She sat on the edge of her bed similar to how a gargoyle would perch above a door, reclined and stony, with its eyes both everywhere but nowhere at the same time. The air conditioning whirred through the walls in slow motion, and the fan above her head dragged in slow circles like it too was tired of it all. 

Y/n blinked once. Was it once? Maybe twice. 

No it had to be more than that, Y/n reasoned with herself when her eyes watched her clock strike eleven thirty. She couldn’t remember when she had sat down. Nine, perhaps? 

Yoongi would be calling soon. 

Or maybe he already should have called, she couldn’t remember what time they usually spoke.

Why hadn’t he called? Did Namjoon or Jungkook talk to him already? Did Jimin tell him of the foul, monstrous thoughts she had while in the bathroom that morning, given to her by the spirit he most undoubtedly heard? They must have, Y/n seethed, clenching her comforter in her fist with a hiss. The three of them must be conspiring against her to make her look bad so Yoongi wouldn’t call her anymore. 

A sob caught in Y/n’s throat at the mere thought of not speaking to him again. She wanted to feel safe, she needed to feel safe with him, and they were keeping her from feeling that way. 

Yes, that must be it. 

They didn’t want her to talk to Yoongi because they still didn’t believe him–maybe it was all a ploy to keep her distracted from her mother and her goal in a controlling effort to keep her safe. A lie. 

Liars. 

Y/n jolted back to herself at the sound of a quiet thud from below her where the sheet had fallen from her bedroom mirror that she now found herself standing in front of. She could conjure up no memory of having gotten up, but the sheet was clenched in her fist like she had been the one to rip it from its protective perch. 

In her reflection, Candida hovered over her shoulder with her chin perched on the flesh of her arm, one of her rotted and discolored hands coming up to run her fingers over Y/n’s forearm in the same manner as one would soothe a child. Y/n couldn’t feel her touch, but she knew it was there. 

Against every instinct that she could’ve possibly had, Y/n didn’t immediately move to push her away the moment their eyes met. She stayed still, letting her hand cascade down the skin of her forearm and climb back up again while they continued to lock eyes. 

“I should light incense…burn you out.” Y/n mumbled lowly to Candida, her other hand stretching up towards her desk towards the tan and yellow embossed box on her desk with little conviction. “I really should….” 

A loud buzzing sound pierced through the air and Y/n jumped out of her skin at the interruption. The moment between the two women forgotten the second she saw Yoongi’s new number light up the screen, and she bounced onto her mattress to answer it. 

“Where were you?” Y/n pressed the moment the line connected, relief flooding through her system and making her feel a bit more alive with each passing second. 

“I called an hour ago, but you didn’t answer–so I should be the one asking you that.” Yoongi didn’t seem nearly as playful as he had on previous nights. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, Y/n would guess that he sounded annoyed.  Despite his antsy demeanor he still continued onwards, starting the conversation the way he usually would. “What’d I miss today? Anything interesting?”

“No, not particularly.” Y/n furrowed her brow at his unusual tightness, unease growing in her belly. “What about you? You sound like your feathers are all ruffled.” 

Yoongi sucked in a breath through his teeth and withheld his response for longer than what she felt comfortable with–like he was calculating his response to her. “I guess you could say that. Just…got into a little argument with my mom today is all. How are you?” 

That was a perfectly reasonable answer–predictable even. But for some reason, deep down in the pit of her churning stomach, it felt off in the same way that one would feel if they walked into their room to find all of the furniture moved just an inch to the left. There was nothing she could point one of her fingers at to blame, only her gut and her mushy mind. 

“What about?” Y/n kept her question unassuming while ignoring his, not wanting to jump the gun and accuse him of lying based on nothing but a feeling. She trusted him, she thought. Yet still her fingers picked at the threads of her sheets and pulled them loose, and her breathing felt just a smidge too difficult. 

“About me coming home.”

 Now that was the truth. Y/n could tell it was by the way in which the words left his mouth like an arrow hitting its target–brutal and succinct. 

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the cream colored ceiling, halfhearted laughter spilling from her mouth. “That’s nothing new. I’m surprised you didn’t expect the pushback.” 

He sighed, the air hitting the microphone awkwardly. “Yeah, well…you could say this argument was unexpected.” Yoongi sounded like he didn’t want to discuss it anymore, but Y/n pushed harder–the need to reassure herself of his honesty was damn near impossible to ignore. 

Because a wicked thought took hold of her mind, weaseling its way into the crevices and stirring up a stink that she had to qualm.  What if he was only lying about who he was speaking too? What if he was the one telling Namjoon and the others about their late night talks? It would all align with their suspected intentions to keep this all from happening. But what if Yoongi was in on it too?

Y/n needed to test the waters–slowly. “How so? Did they start it unprompted or…?” 

“You could say that.” He swallowed thickly an cleared his throat, still trying to move on from the subject. “That shit isn’t important anyways. You sure nothing interesting happened today?” 

“No. Why do you ask?” Y/n frowned. While she couldn’t just brush past the hypocritical nature of her thoughts, Yoongi was being rather pushy today to ask about her. 

“I’m just asking.” There was a shuffle on the other line and a grunt, followed by the sudden rush of water. 

“Yoongi what’s–” 

“You want to try an exercise with me?” The water continued to flow in the background of his question, making his voice warbled. 

She propped herself up on one elbow, and raised an eyebrow though she knew he wouldn’t see it. “An exercise?” 

“Yeah. A spiritual one–just to see if we can.” 

Excitement wormed its way up through her system, and she quickly sat up on her bed to ready herself for whatever it was he was about to ask of her. “How?” 

“I have my phone on speaker next to some running water. Go to your sink and do the same.” Yoongi commanded, his voice coming through clearer than before. Y/n did as she was told, padding into her bathroom and twisting the facet on full pressure. 

“Now what?” 

“Now close your eyes and breathe. I have some stuff burning here to help, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. Just if you feel me, let me in. If you don’t, let me know.” 

She felt a strong sense of Deja Vu at his direction, like they were back in his room and he was holding her hand as he guided her through deep breathing exercises and meditation practices. Y/n focused on her breath, and for the first time in almost a week, she tried to reach for her morning glories from within. She searched wildly within herself to find even the smallest root or the stringiest vine–but still nothing showed. 

There was however, a gentle prodding of her mind that distracted her from her findings; a wave rippling over her feet and sweeping away only to return after half a breath. It was warm and inviting, tranquil yet strong. 

Yoongi. 

Y/n let him in without hesitation, going as far as to stick one of her hands under to flow from the sink to further immerse herself in the experience. He swept through her with little force, lapping at her soul and seeping through the cracks of her mind through fissures she didn’t even know existed. 

Distantly she heard him cough, but thought nothing of it. He had been dealing with an on and off cold so it was easy to excuse. 

Y/n felt a small pinch between her ribs, dull and barely noticeable at first, prickling the muscles between each one. The pain gradually increased to an uncomfortable cramping that wrapped itself around her trunk and around her back, shooting upwards into the muscles of her neck towards her head.

“Stop it! He’s hurting you!” The voice from before wailed in her ears, growing louder with each word. “Tell him to stop! Quickly!” 

Her chest spasmed and she couldn’t seem to expand her lungs completely to bring in enough oxygen without making it worse, her words tumbling from her mouth clumsily. “Yoongi it hurts…” 

“I know, I know–just try and breathe through it.” His reassurance was instant, but it did little to stop her discomfort.

The aching spread down her middle towards her legs like a tsunami crashing down on the shore and dispersing wherever crevices it could force its way into, and she gripped the edge of the counter to keep herself upright. 

“Breathing isn’t working!” Y/n gasped, swallowing air that went nowhere. 

The ghostly voice was urgent and desperate now, like it was clawing up her throat and hanging behind her eyes. “He is a traitor too! Look at how he tortures you!”  Out of the corner of her eye, she could almost make out the wispy edges of a black, smokey mass standing just out of sight that crept closer. “He is doing it for himself! He is no friend!” 

“I’m almost there Y/n, just keep breathing.” Yoongi sounded just as out of breath as she did, his words barely escaping through his teeth. “I almost have it…” 

“Ask him! Ask him what it is, if I am right, he will tell you naught. He will lie just as the others have.”  The dark mass approached, tendrils of smoke curling up her arm and caressing her shoulder to leave her skin clammy and numb in its wake. “You have to trust me.” 

Y/n grit her teeth, she shouldn’t be believing some unseen force over her friends–but what other option did she have when she felt so lost? And the pain was unbearable at this point. Sweat pricked at her brow and slipped down the back of her neck, a battle of heat and ice, and her teeth began to chatter. “Yoongi, w-what do you almost h-have?” 

Silence ensued, as did the pain. Y/n tried again, with more fervor this time. “Yoongi, what a-are you doing to m-me?” 

“I told you, an exercise.” His own gasps were barely heard over the sound of rushing water.

Y/n dug her heels in, one of her hands moving to grip tightly onto the faucet in preparation to turn it off. “W-what exercise?” 

The silence was deafening. Never before had he ever withheld any information from her until now, and she could read the silence louder than any lie he could spit through his teeth. 

“Y/n–” 

Yoongi’s pleas were cut short as she wrenched the water off and collapsed to her knees. His faucet cut shortly thereafter, and the pain vanished with it. She could hear him trying to regain control of his own breath now that there was no longer the white noise of their sinks. Y/n trembled, and her heart shattered into a million pieces as the trust she had so blindly placed in him faltered like a dying pulse. Why couldn’t he tell her? What had changed? 

“You know what has changed,  you know what has occurred. Your intuition is strong.” The shadow dissipated from view with a content sigh, but she could still feel its presence around her. 

Y/n grabbed her phone and brought it closer to her lips. “It wasn’t your mom you argued with, was it?” Her nostrils flared as the sharp sting of betrayal reared its ugly head. “What did they tell you?” 

“Y/n, you can’t listen to whatever it's telling you. Listen to me–I’m trying to help you. Just trust me. Please” Yoongi’s voice was broken and frayed, and if she weren’t so raw, she would’ve stopped and crumbled at the sound. But she didn’t. 

Because her suspicions were confirmed. They were talking of her behind her back and conspiring without her, leaving her in the dust just like everyone else had for what reason she didn’t know. 

“They want what’s yours. Don’t let them take it–you must keep an eye on them, but they are not your friends. Don’t do anything they tell you to.” 

The voice withered to nothing but an echo in her dark and empty bathroom, leaving her to reckon with its callous observation that on any other occasion would be laughable. But her mind was twisted like old haunted bramble, and her heart was a gaping hole from their lack of honesty. It was the only thing that could make sense–the only reason they’d ever need to lie. 

“Are you still there, Y/n?” Yoongi croaked from the other line. “Can you do one more thing for me?” 

Y/n rose to her feet robotically, the phone clutched in her hand and her legs were overtaken with pins and needles. “Yes.” She spoke with little inflection, her eyes glazed over and vacant. “What is it?”  

“Just light a stick of incense for me, and then I’m going to tell you what to–” Yoongi’s chest rattled with coughs cutting off the rest of his directions, but Y/n understood it enough. 

“Sure.” Y/n dragged her feet through her bathroom door, her shoulder bumping into the wooden door frame but she didn’t feel the pain. She took both hands and opened the window behind her desk to let in the moist night air, keeping her voice light as she plucked the tan box up from its spot on her desk and clicked the phone off speaker to sandwich it between her cheek and shoulder. “I have it in my hand.” 

“Okay. Did you light it?” 

“Yes.” Y/n lied easily, sliding open the compartment to pull the rest of the sticks out. 

Yoongi paused, and she heard him click his tongue a few times before proceeding. “Good. Now repeat after me: ‘I do away with that which does not serve me’” 

Her free hand slid open the screen, and she repeated it effortlessly. “‘I do away with that which does not serve me.” 

“Again.” Yoongi demanded. 

Y/n took the sticks of incense in her hand along with any leftover bundles from Namjoon, and in one sweeping motion, she chucked them from her window to tumble down onto the dark lawn. “I do away with that which does not serve me.” 

_________________________________________

Crunch. 

Staggering steps crushed leaves beneath their feet to dust. 

Crack. 

A branch–presumably split in half from the weight of its beholder. 

Y/n blearily blinked her eyes open, her vision blackened at the edges as though looking through the lens of an old photo camera, and it rocked from side to side to the beat of crumbling leaves. 

Walking, she was walking. 

“This is so exciting!” A small voice chimed from her right. “What shall we do when you get there?” 

Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but no sound formed as her vocal cords remained still. 

“Don’t worry, Ente. You don’t have to say anything yet.” Matilda looked up at her with gleaming black eyes, and a dreamy smile on her youthful features. “We can talk more when we arrive.” 

Her tiny hand curled around Y/n’s, and she led the two of them forward at a faster pace. Y/n shook her head vigorously–wherever it was she was taking her she didn’t want to go. 

“Oh don’t be such a stinky-head. Don’t you love me?” Matilda jutted out her bottom lip and gave her what Y/n could only assume was an attempt at puppy dog eyes (though when one had the eyes of a demon, it was hard to think of them as anything but vile). 

Y/n felt tears drip from her cheek and onto her shirt, as much as she wanted to tug her hand away it was like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore, her brain a submissive hostage in her own body. 

The path they were walking tilted downwards steeply, and the vivid sound of forest life sprung all around them. A gentle lap of water slapping up and against something solid brought her to the brink of terror, and the unmistakable black abyss that was streaked with moonlight came into view. 

The lake. 

“We are here!” Matilda bounced on the balls of her feet and dropped Y/n’s hand to clap her own excitedly. Before Y/n could blink, Matilda waded clumsily into the water, spraying water in all directions and bringing motion to the still water. “Come on Ente, come swim!” She lowered herself into the water until only her head lingered above its surface to peer out at Y/n with dead black eyes. “Please. I won’t stop asking until you do…” 

Y/n tried to scream out in protest, to turn sharply on the child and hightail it back into the dark wood to try and find her way home. Though her feet had a mind of their own, and carried her into the first few inches of icy cold water and stopped just at her ankles. 

Matilda shot her arms up and smacked them down onto the water in childish petulance. “More.” 

Y/n’s body trudged further into the lake until it ticked the bottom of her ribcage and the dip of her waist, her hair standing on end and a squeal breaking free from her lips from the frigid temperature. 

Matilda swam up to Y/n and wrapped one arm around her thigh. “That’s not enough. Come closer.” Her leg was pulled out from beneath her, and thus she was dragged through the water until her feet could no longer reach the substrate along the bottom of the lake.

“Better.” 

Y/n floated on her back, her muscles taught and rigid as she prepared herself for whatever was to come next. Funny how in this moment, she felt the most like herself that she has since the ballroom incident, but the cost was that she had so little hold on her own body. The universe was cruel that way. 

“What’s wrong Ente? Why are you crying?” One of Matilda’s rotting hands came up to swipe at her cheeks where Y/n presumed more tears had fallen. 

Y/n sucked in a shuddering breath, and for a reason unknown–she was finally able to answer. “I’m scared, Gänse.” 

Matilda cocked her head to one side and leaned back to float just how Y/n was. “Scared? Why? It’s just me…” 

“Because you’re dead–you shouldn’t be here.” Y/n cried, her body shaking with the force of her sobs as she turned to face her head on. “And I shouldn’t be here either.” 

“But I am here. Do you not want me here anymore?” Matilda pouted again, sounding genuinely hurt at the prospect that Y/n wished her gone. 

“No…I want you here.” Without thinking, Y/n’s pruned fingers grabbed for Matilda’s that felt like rubber and held them tightly in her own. “I want you here more than anything–to be grown up and home with all of us. But you aren’t, and that’s just the way it is now.” A pitiful moan of sorrow broke from Y/n’s throat and lake water jostled around her. “But I miss you. I feel so lost and alone, and I miss you so much Gänse.” 

Matilda blinked in a bug-like manner, and for a moment her eyes flickered from black to her normal color, and her skin plumped back to life with its proper shade. They floated side by side, looking into almost identical eyes. All was quiet save for the trickling water against the wooden dock and the toads that littered the edge of the shore. 

“Something’s wrong.” Matilda rolled onto her stomach and used their conjoined hands to glide over to press into Y/n’s side and push her towards the dock. “I don’t like this game anymore...” 

Y/n regained control of her body and heaved her soaked body to fall onto the dock in a heap. Matilda appeared next to her in an instant, not needing to climb out. With strength that no child should possess, she lifted Y/n to her feet and gave her a firm shove back in the direction of the grass. 

“Let’s play a different game. How about hide and seek? You hide first.” Matilda stood on the edge of the dock and watched Y/n, shifting from foot to foot. When Y/n made no haste to run, Matilda made a show of hiding her face in both hands and counting. “One, two, three, four…” 

Y/n scanned her sister from the top of her head to the hem of her brightly colored pajama pants, relishing in the image of her looking just as she remembered her. One of her feet had crossed behind the other at the ankle and balanced on the toe of her sneaker, and her back had hunched downwards to discourage herself from peeking. Which didn’t work, because just like she did when she was alive, one of her eyes peeked through two of her fingers, and when finding Y/n still staring, she squeaked and hid behind them again. 

“You’re supposed to hide Ente~” Matilda sang sassily to her, muffled by her hands. “Do you not have any fun anymore as a grown up? Have you forgotten how to play?” 

With one final look Y/n’s bare feet pounded down the length of the dock and carried her as fast as they could into the tree line. She scrambled up the steep hill using overgrown weeds and tree roots as leverage, all the while listening to Matilda’s voice as sweet and youthful as she remembered it. 

“Nine, ten, eleven, twelve….” 

Tree branches whipped by as she pushed herself as fast as she could. She bent to the left, dodging a low hanging tree limb only to collide face first with something cold and wet, smelling distinctly of lake water and death. Long fingers wrapped around her upper arms and held her still, and she came face to face with Candida, whose teeth were bared in a  snarl merely inches from Y/n’s face. 

“Let go of me!” Y/n flailed her arms around her to loosen the grip of the dead woman or land a punch to her haunting face, however after a few seconds of wildly flinging her arms about in arcing circles she realized their pressure had disappeared. 

Everything had disappeared. The trees, the branches, the smell of death, Candida–it was all replaced with her room and its countless sheets that lay limp over her furniture like her room belonged to a deserted mansion from decades prior. She was no longer dreaming, she surmised by the lack of vignette in her vision and the real rush of air in her lungs. 

Everything but her own self remained just as she had left it before she had drifted off on the phone with Yoongi. Except now she stood, her clothes soaking wet and pooling water beneath her feet onto her center rug, and her skin ice cold. 

The floorboards of the hall creaked and Y/n snapped her head to check the time, finding it just past five in the morning on Thursday. Thus meant whoever was outside her door was not her father–at least it shouldn’t be if his usual schedule was anything to go by. 

She tiptoed to the door with a pounding heart, and against all her better judgement she opened her door just enough to look with one eye out and down the shadowy hall. 

Taehyung stumbled blindly through the dark, his hand braced against the wall as he teetered from one side to the other on unsteady feet. Y/n couldn’t tell if he was awake or asleep–but what she could see was his gray sweatpants and white t-shirt clung to him like a second skin with moisture. She furrowed her brows as she reached his feet, which left a trail of wet footprints on the rug from his door to the end of the hall with the undeniable smell of fishy, slimy, lake water. 

_________________________________________

“What are you doing here?” Jimin waved his hand in her face, bringing her blurry vision back to focus. “Hello? Are you sick?”

“What?” Y/n bleated, blinking rapidly to rid her eyes of the haze. She was standing outside his door, dressed for work with her hands hung flaccid at her sides. “Where?” 

Jimin raised one eyebrow at her, and craned his neck to peer down the hall towards Jungkook and Namjoon’s room while he stuffed his dark green short sleeve button down into a pair of nice shorts. “Did Jungkook bring you here?” 

“Jungkook? No. I don’t–I was–” Y/n floundered on the spot, replaying her last memories of how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was standing in her room, dressed and waiting for Taehyung to return. It had been no later than five thirty at that time. Y/n looked Jimin up and down, then the window that glowed with early morning sun that refracted off of the earring he had shoved on his earlobe. “What time is it?” 

“It’s…” Jimin brought his wrist with his watch up to glance at it quickly. “ A little after seven.” 

Y/n took a moment to process the given information, and missed the way Jimin’s eyes stared straight past her to listen to one of their unseen friends that hovered over her shoulder. 

“Why don’t I walk you down to the greenhouse, yeah?” He stiffened ever so slightly but hid it behind the sweetest of smiles, and took no time to snag his phone and wallet from his desk. “We can see if Joon is awake when we pass his room.” 

“I guess…” Y/n willed herself to remember anything from the two hours that had just seemingly vanished from her mind. The harder she tried to picture them, the further away they felt–there was only nonsense wheeling around her head like a mobile. Find the Prophet. Find the Prophet. Find the Prophet.

“What was that?” Jimin paused with his hand on the doorknob, the door only half closed so she could see into the room behind him. Y/n realized she must’ve said her thoughts out loud, and when she started to defend herself she froze.

Over his shoulder, she saw a stack of printer paper that climbed to about half an inch in height, and was scrawled with sentence fragments in black and magenta ink. 

Her frazzled mind ignited in wailing choruses of tossed accusations not far off from the kind she had the night before–the residual emotions coming at her full force. Liar. Liar. Liar. 

“What’s that?” Y/n pointed to the paper, and in an instant Jimin shut the door to block her view, and guided her down the hall with one hand on the small of her back. 

“What is what, my love?” Jimin’s steps quickened, and she felt his heartbeat quicken against her side. 

Y/n gave him a strong sideways glare and dug her heels into the rug to keep him from ushering her further towards Namjoon’s room. “Those papers from the printer. Has Bear been talking to you?” 

“Oh those?” Jimin tried to keep his face composed, but she could see his brow quiver, and his other hand came up to twist one of the rings that adorned his fingers. A nervous tick. “He’s trying, but it’s just a bunch of nonsense. I think the printer is more banged up than we initially realized.” 

Liar. Liar. Liar. 

Y/n swallowed down the thoughts and tried to stay rational. “Can I see it then? If it’s nonsense? Maybe it’s a code or something that I can help with…” 

“No.” Jimin dismissed her instantly and tapped his knuckles on Namjoon’s door swiftly. “I’ve already checked. I’m just going to toss them into the trash when I get home from work later.” Jimin beamed at her with an almost too kind of a smile that made his lower eyelid twitch. “No need to stress over it when you’re already stressed. I mean it.”

Namjoon poked his head out of the door with one eye glued shut with sleep, but the moment he saw the two of them shifting at his doorstep he jolted to life in a way that reminded Y/n of a cartoon, and in any other circumstance would have made her laugh. But she couldn’t seem to find any humor anywhere at the moment when the only thing her mind screamed at her was that they were lying, and they were hiding something from her. 

To make matters worse, Jimin only brushed his lips on the swell of her cheek before he left the two of them at the green house–not one of his usual tight embraces or a kiss on her mouth that left her breathless. 

Y/n moved about the greenhouse as if stuck in a cloud that blocked all of her senses. She could not look at Namjoon–could not think of Jungkook of Jimin–or even Yoongi without wanting to scream. Her head felt on the verge of exploding with how hard she fought to try and maintain control over it, to keep it from spiraling down paths that damned all of them as treacherous and scheming. 

“Y/n can you load that tray of marigolds? You can put them on the bottom of the cart, I want to try and get everything down there before Jungkook gets here with lunch. ” Namjoon asked calmly from behind her in the front storage room he had disappeared into. 

The cart was a new addition that helped them carry large amounts of plants down to different parts of the estate, more specifically the garden boxes that they were working on finishing up over the next two days. His request had her temper spiking irrationally just by the mere sound of his voice–but she shoved down the urge to roll her eyes and did as asked, sliding one of the marigold trays from the front table and squatting down to slip it onto the bottom tier. 

“Not that one–the striped ones please.” Namjoon remarked with a quick pop of his head from the storage room. “Sorry I should have clarified that.” 

He disappeared back into the room on his search for whatever it was that he lost this time, Y/n couldn’t care to remember. All she could feel was heat simmering beneath her skin from her scalding mood, and with more force than necessary, she yanked the tray out and dropped it onto the front table, grabbing the striped variety from the other end and shoving it where the previous one had sat. 

She hoped he stayed back there for a few more seconds in order to let her get ahold of her temper, lest she might blow up on him over something obsolete. He had the gall to ask her to do things for him while they lied to her face and purposefully kept her in the dark? 

Y/n scoffed, and took to clipping the dead flower heads off of the remaining trays with garden trimmers. 

They want what’s yours. Don’t let them take it–you must keep an eye on them, but they are not your friends. Don’t do anything they tell you to.

The shadow figure’s hiss from the night before reverberated through her skull with each aggressive snip of withered flowers. It only riled her up further, until her thoughts took a turn she didn’t want and frightened her with its dominance. 

Use the clippers. Make it quick–then he can’t tell you what to do anymore. 

There was a clatter as the tool bounced from the table and skidded across the floor beneath it, and Y/n gasped at the brief images that tormented her mind of burying the sharp end of the tool into flesh that wasn’t hers. Her hands came up to squeeze both sides of her skull like it would push them out from behind her eyes and rid her of the horrid sight. 

“You must. Or they will do it to you first–just you wait and see.” 

Y/n’s entire body trembled and the air felt scarce despite the windows being propped open to let in boatloads of it. And just like in her dream, there was a horrid span of time where she had no control over the way her body moved, inching towards the fallen clippers with overly stretched fingers and she screamed internally at herself to stop. 

There was an ear-splitting crash from the back room of the greenhouse that thankfully woke her from her stupor, and Namjoon darted from the storage room and past her without a second glance into the back nursery. Y/n leapt up to follow, skidding to a halt to keep her from colliding with his back. 

Shards of broken glass sprayed across the floor like seafoam from where a gaping hole had been smashed through one of the five foot panels, opening them up to the outside world and the glaring sunlight. 

“Fuck.” Namjoon cursed under his breath as he took careful steps closer to assess the damage,  taking care to keep his distance from the jagged edges that jutted out like an open ended threat. “Don’t come any closer, you aren’t wearing shoes thick enough for this.” 

Y/n stayed put like she was told, her heart racing as she still recovered from the shock of the explosion. “Jungkook should be here soon with lunch–he could probably help us…” Y/n trailed off as Namjoon planted his hands on his hips with a huff. 

“Yeah. This is just perfect. The construction team is going to have to come fix this mess and who knows how long they’ll be in our hair…” He dragged both hands down his face with an agonized groan. “This is just great.” 

Y/n surveyed the room for one of their brooms, but figured when the search came up empty that it must be in the back room. “What do you think could’ve done it?” Her eyes flitted back to him as she asked, but she found her answer the moment she did. 

Namjoon lifted the baseball cap from his head to run his palm over his scalp and situated it back into place, oblivious to who stood near him. “I dunno. Maybe the heat?” But Y/n knew that was the wrong answer. 

The right answer was staring right at her with swollen golden eyes, her head hanging at an angle to the side as she jerked with poorly constrained rage. In Candida’s fist was a long shard of greenhouse glass that sliced into the skin of her palms and dripped black blood down the shaft and into the grass below her. 

Everything happened in slow motion after that. She heard the greenhouse door swing open as Jungkook shouldered in with three containers of food, and at the same time, Namjoon picked up a small pot that had been showered with speckles of glass and reached across the gap to toss it out of the way. Before she could even utter a single syllable, Candida brought her makeshift blade down in a swift arc to hack through his forearm that was suspended over the gap–nearly severing it completely in one blow. 

The room turned from tense and quiet to a full blown panic, both Y/n and Namjoon screaming over one another while he fell to the floor in a writhing heap. Blood seeped from the place his arm had been and stained the concrete maroon, and Jungkook sped around the corner at the commotion, lurching towards him and pushing past Y/n’s still statuesque body to soak in the scene.

“What happened to him?” Jungkook paled, heedlessly starting across the scattered glass towards Namjoon. 

Candida turned her gaze from Namjoon’s crumpled body to meet Y/n’s eyes in a challenging stand off, as if offering one final warning. Y/n started forwards with the full intent to push Jungkook line with the hole, glass be damned–

But she wasn’t fast enough. 

Candida took her chance and launched the shard towards him, landing it into the dead center of his chest where it lodged itself deeper than any human could have accomplished. Jungkook staggered backwards, choking on his own failed breath from no doubt a pierced lung. He turned to look at her, trying his best to blink away the glossy sheen that had taken over his eyes and giving them a haunting, lifeless look. He opened his mouth to speak–to tell her to run–but only gargles and gasps fell from his lips before he too fell to the floor at her feet with a shuddering sigh. 

“NO!” Y/n didn’t recognize the sound of her own voice.  The thud of his body hitting the floor brought her back to life, and she fell to her knees and began a crawl to his body, not caring about the glass that dug into her palms and sliced mercilessly through her pants. Her hands cupped the wound, and hot blood pooled in the crevice of her nail beds and the cracks in her skin. She grabbed for his face, his hands, his shoulders–anything–smearing the color around and tainting his skin in a way that made her heave. But it all fell limp from her grasp. When she managed to roll him over onto his back, his eyes were blank and lifeless. Empty. 

“Somebody help!” She howled out an aimless plea that she was certain no one could hear, clutching him into her lap and desperately pawing at his face to try and get him to respond. “Wake up. Come on Jungkook Jeon, you wake up right now!” Of course, her pleas were left unheard, because his heartbeat did not beat through his chest against her thighs or the press of her palm. 

He was dead. 

Namjoon moaned weakly from his slumped position, and his face had significantly paled. But Y/n didn’t know what to do–her chest felt as though it had been carved out with a cleaver and her insides raked from her body, she was nothing but empty and void. 

“This can’t be real…” Y/n blubbered, bending down to cradle Jungkook’s body to her chest. 

“I heard screaming what’s–holy shit.” Jimin skidded to a halt behind her, his eyes wide as saucers and his chest heaving. 

Y/n turned to him with her vision blurred, calling out to him pitifully. “Please help–I don’t know-” 

“What have you done?!” Jimin backed away from her, his skin visibly draining of color right in front of her eyes. “Y/n–what have you done?!” 

“I didn’t do anything! This was Candida! Believe me ple-” Y/n moved to reach one bloodied hand out to him but stopped short at the sight of the blade that was clenched in her fist that she had no memory of holding. Panic flared in her chest and she threw the weapon to the ground like it burned her skin. “This isn’t what it looks like, I swear!” 

Jimin shook his head in utter disbelief, looking more broken than she had ever seen him. “How could you hurt them like this?” 

Y/n recoiled in on herself to escape his damning eyes, and took one last look at Jungkook’s motionless face and permanently black eyes. Her ears started to ring, drowning out Jimin’s stuttered conversation with a 911 operator, and her body felt completely cold and unfeeling as though she was the one who had died, not Jungkook. She leant down and placed one soft kiss on the corner of his mouth that was still warm, and pressed her forehead to his cheek with a never-ending prayer to bring him back. 

“Not that one–the striped ones please.” Namjoon remarked with a quick pop of his head from the storage room. “Sorry I should have clarified that.” 

Y/n was back, crouched on the floor of the front room of the greenhouse with the first tray of marigolds tucked snuggly on the bottom of the cart. Her hands were washed clean of any blood, and there was no glass that she knew of. Just her, the cart, the flowers, and the clippers. 

She dropped the tray and screamed. Screamed in a cathartic release for all that had happened up until this point. Screamed out with all of the horror and heartbreak she had just witnessed seconds before from the sight of Namjoon’s severed arm and Jungkook’s dull eyes that she couldn’t stop seeing.  The sound was so loud she couldn’t even hear Namjoon who had rushed to her side and was trying to soothe her with gentle hands, but whenever she looked at him, all she could see was his body folded on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

 She couldn’t stop screaming. 

_________________________________________

All of her lights were off. Even her plant lights had been unplugged and tossed to the ground so they wouldn’t accidentally turn on from a timer. Her eyes were swollen, and her lips coated in a sticky film from how much she had cried. 

Jungkook had found her completely inconsolable with Namjoon nearly at his wits' end on how to get her to stop for her own sake. Jungkook’s presence had only seemed to make it worse, as did Jimin’s when they had called him to try and help. The last thing she had said to all of them before she fled was irredeemable–there was no way to recover from such a harsh outburst. 

She recalled how she turned on them with a pointed finger, spewing out titles of traitor, liar, deceiver–and stormed off with a threat to never speak to her again. Her chest ached, deep and unforgiving at what she had done. Her life felt like it was truly over. 

But if that was the price she had to pay to keep them safe, then that was the price she’d pay. 

Similar to her dream, there was the briefest moment of clarity after her vision (if that’s what she should call it), and she had been able to think enough to know that something was very, unbelievably wrong with her that she had let it go on for far too long. She had made her bed up of denial and stubbornness, and now she would have to lie in it. 

She couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t lose her cool and make her visions a reality–she couldn’t watch them die again. 

Yoongi tried to call her a dozen or so times; she let it ring straight through to a voicemail she wouldn’t listen to. Her phone was resting on her bedside table across the room from where she sat, curled up on the floor with her plants in a circle around her, save for the small aloe plant she had hugged to her chest for comfort. If she couldn’t find her morning glories and she couldn’t see her friends, these would have to do. Each time the screen lit up with another call, she hugged the pot tighter to her chest and squeezed her eyes closed to keep herself from giving in. 

She was on her own now. 

That was how she stayed until the sun rose and the phone calls became more scarce each hour until they stopped completely. She did not sleep a wink.

In her own eyes, Y/n was no longer human. A monster defiled by its own mind, driven to the brink by her own foolish pride that kept her from just asking for help. Behind her eyes, her brain was nothing but liquid that sloshed around her skull, unable to form a coherent thought of her own, that her lack of sleep no doubt perpetuated.

This needed to end–she needed to leave. 

“I can make it go away. I can make it end.” The creeping tone whispered to her when it began to feel harder than ever to keep her head from tipping to the side and succumbing to sleep. “Just say the word.” 

“How?” Y/n mumbled to the empty room, no longer holding the energy to fight it. 

“I can help you get what you want.” 

Y/n dropped her head to rest against the pot in her lap, relishing in its cool temperature. “What I want is for this all to stop–I don’t want to hurt my friends.” A ball formed in her throat for the hundredth time in twenty four hours, and she could barely make out the rest of her words. “I love them–I can’t do that to them.” 

“You don’t have to.” It soothed, and she felt a breeze from beneath the door run across her feet. 

“But I can’t stop it. I can’t control myself.” She lamented. 

“Then let me help you so you don’t have to.” 

She whimpered with a shake of her head. “No…just stop please. You’re going to hurt them!” 

“No I won’t. I promise.” It tutted at her from the hallway like a concerned parent. “I just want to help you.” 

Y/n felt backed into a corner. This voice was her only option besides waiting it out until she could find a way to run far away from her and never speak to any of them ever again. So with a shaky exhale, she gingerly placed the aloe plant down on the floor beside her and treaded lightly to her door. 

She paused, asking herself one final time if this was really what she was about to do–if she was really going to open her door. 

Images of Jungkook’s smiling face were blotted out and replaced with his vacant one. Jimin’s loving stares and gentle touches were nothing compared to the way he had looked at her in the greenhouse vision–like she was the devil reincarnate. Namjoon couldn’t get a full sentence out to her without panicking, and Yoongi was gone. This was her only choice. 

The knob twisted beneath her hands and she gave it a firm tug and letting it swing open to expose the empty hall. 

“Okay.” Y/n breathed out in defeat. Y/n could see nothing, but she could feel that whoever it was was still there by the crushing pressure it brought over the hall, much like it had done to the bathroom. Its presence made her feel small and weak, like the walls were closing in around her and drawing her into their proximity. 

“Let me in then. I have to be invited.” 

Y/n’s tongue poised at the edge of her mouth, readying the words that would seal her fate. 

“Don’t! Speak not, child!” A woman’s voice called to her from the end of the hall, and hurried footsteps rushed at her door. 

A low, demonic growl vibrated the air in front of her, bleeding into the spirits next words. “Do not listen to her, hurry–let me in before she ruins everything. She will make you hurt your friends!” 

“I will not! Ente, trust me–close your door and call your friends!” The woman was closer now, merely meters away from them. 

“Your friends lie, and she wants you to call them. See? She too is a monster.” The energy pulsed in the hall, nearly tangible in its extreme.  “Do not listen to her, listen to me!” 

Y/n’s mouth went dry and she felt lost with all of the back and forth, her mouth moving faster than her brain. “Just make it stop!” Y/n’s eyes bugged out of her skull and her hand smacked over her mouth as realization dawned on her at what she had said. “Wait–” 

“Good enough for me~” The energy overtook her, swarming her skin and her mind before smothering all light into a black void of nothing. 

_________________________________________

Yoongi couldn’t climb the stairs fast enough–his overstuffed suitcases weighed him down more than he cared to admit. His sneakers that he hadn’t bothered to kick off at the door hit the landing, causing him to trip over the foot of his suitcase that teetered in front of him, and he muttered an unnecessarily long string of profanities over the minor inconvenience as he righted himself. His phone buzzed, and he took his almost fall as a sign to pause, fumbling his second phone out of his sweat pant’s pocket and giving the new messages a once-over. 

[Melissa Gordon]: Y/n is in her room. When you get here, why don’t we meet up at the greenhouse or the historical society first to make a plan? We are eating dinner here.

[Cole Sear]: 👍

[Seymour]: I second what Jimin said. I know you really want to check on her, but I don’t want to make it worse than it already is 🫤

Yoongi scoffed, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips before tucking it into his cheek as he debated ignoring them entirely. They had already delayed his return, now they were asking him to stay away from you after whatever happened with Y/n yesterday? 

Yeah fuckin’ right. 

Yoongi abandoned his suitcases on the landing and texted them back on his slow stroll towards Y/n’s room with a  funny (in his opinion) play on Jungkook’s favorite message. 

[Ring Leader]: 👎👎👎👎👎👎👎

His phone buzzed a few more times, but he ignored it, pocketing the device and finishing the last of his route to Y/n’s door. A few meters back from the door and he could already feel it: overwhelming doom that permeated out from the door and into the hall in a navy blue cloud that’s middle was dark gray, almost black in the deepest center. 

The hall was riddled with phantom imprints of emotions, pockets of sensations that he could see shimmering in and out of focus, some old, some new. All of them bad. 

Yoongi wasted little time knocking on your door, keeping his eyes peeled towards the hall to make sure no one would round the corner to see him lingering on her doorstep. He heard a shuffle of feet on the other side of it, but the door stayed closed in place. 

“You’re going to have to try harder than that to hide from me…” Yoongi chuckled dryly to himself, knocking again–and louder this time. 

It wasn’t until he raised his fist for the fifth time that his hand rose to tap his knuckles against the wood did her voice call out to him. 

“Go away! I told you all that I want to be left alone.” 

Yoongi swallowed, taken aback by how…hollow her voice sounded. He tried to keep his tone neutral, not letting any of his worry slip through just yet. 

“Damnit–and here I was hoping you’d be willing to teach this shithead the difference between spearmint and peppermint…” Yoongi feigned disappointment, snapping his fingers in front of him for further emphasis. 

The door opened to just a sliver, and he saw Y/n’s fingers curl around the edge to keep it closed, though her head did not visibly peer out from it. “Yoongi?” 

“That’s my name,” Yoongi shrugged, and took a small step towards the door. “Can I come in? I don’t want anyone seeing me who shouldn’t. You know, controlling mother and all that bullshit.” 

Y/n made no motion to move, but after a few seconds of muttering to herself under her breath she let the door fall open enough for him to squeeze himself through. 

His composure almost faltered when he finally got to see the state of her room with his own eyes, tracing the drapery with squinted eyes that struggled to see much of anything in the darkness that encased the space. Yoongi whistled under his breath and did a small spin about the room. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place…it’s…” His voice wavered at the sight of a pile of smashed pots on the floor of the bathroom, knowing that Y/n would never do something of that nature to any of her house plants. 

“It’s what?” Y/n snapped, the behavior so out of character his head whipped in the direction of her voice. 

Her motions were clunky and disorganized as she slinked from by the closed door towards the bathroom to guard his sight from the room, and he tracked each one of her steps, making the hair on his neck stand up with an instinctual reaction to danger. “It’s nice.” 

Y/n’s head jerked to the side to size up his response, like she was tasting the words in her mind and evaluating their worth. She moved like an animal, lithe and coiled to stand in the bathroom doorway. Surrounding her head was a pulsating cloud of maroon, black, and navy that swirled in an indecipherable mass of color, each one fading into the next so quickly he couldn’t be sure what he was seeing behind the black overtone. 

A pin could have dropped on the rug and the sound would have been audible, the energy less like two friends reuniting and more like a fly that had crawled into a spiders web–and the spider was home waiting for a moment to pounce. 

His eyes wandered around the room to try and see what he could–the black salt on the windowsill had been swiped onto the floor, the wards that were placed carefully in the corners had been upturned and smashed with the plants on the bathroom floor. The dried bouquet charm he had hung over her bed was nowhere to be seen. 

The rug beneath their feet was in no better condition, its corners twisted upwards like she had been crawling beneath it before he had arrived, searching for more things to destroy. 

All of the wards that she knew of were down by her own hand. There were only the few she didn’t that remained–for now. 

“How have things been? I tried to call, but you didn’t answer. Got worried and came to find you.” Yoongi leveled his eyes at the person in front of him, who it was he didn’t know. “You’re going to make me gray already with all of the stress you put me through.” 

“Fine.” Y/n snarled through her teeth, glowering at him from where she stood, her eyes almost glowing through the dark. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi commented, pulling the edge of his lips down in a shrug with a raise of his eyebrows. “Your plants, what happened to them?” 

Y/n cowered with an animalistic whine, like her voice was trying to fight through whoever was wearing it as a costume. “Doesn’t matter.” 

Yoongi’s phone buzzed a few more times, and the silence made the noise very apparent. Y/n whipped her head towards him with eyes ablaze, fixing him with something malicious that held a very real, tangible threat. “Who was that?” 

“I don’t know.” Yoongi shrugged, fighting to keep the shake from his voice. “I haven’t checked yet.”

“Then check.” Y/n punctuated her words with hostility. 

Yoongi closed his eyes briefly in a defeated sigh, and if he could he would curse for the hundredth time that day–because he knew who it would be. And he knew you would have some kind of reaction to it. 

He clicked the phone screen to life between them so it was visible to both parties, lighting up both of their faces in the process. Y/n’s was gaunt and disfigured in a way that he couldn’t explain. There was nothing distinctly out of the ordinary, but it was just wrong. It wasn’t Y/n.  

[Melissa Gordon]: Yoongi, I mean it. She’s really not well. 

[Cole Sear]:  Don’t be a dick. 

[Melissa Gordon]: Please, Yoongi. We aren’t trying to be difficult, you just haven’t seen how she is yet. 

[Cole Sear]: I can sense you.

[Seymour]: I have the green house door open, get here ASAP. 

[Melissa Gordon replied to Cole Sear]:  Jungkook–we’ve been over this, that sounds like a threat. 

[Cole Sear]: 🤷🏻

[Cole Sear]:If the shoe fits. 

The suspense was deadly in and of itself. He felt as though he had seen the warning flash of lightning, and was counting down the seconds until the thunder bellowed its deafening roar overhead. 

And the storm hit, unbending and violent when her eyes zeroed in on him and she let out a growl that turned into a shriek of fury, and the side of her fist whirled to collide with her mirror, throwing it down the ground to shatter at their feet. 

“Liar!” She hissed through her teeth, shoving him to the ground and pinning him down with her weight on his chest to keep him from wriggling out or fighting back even if he could bring himself to. 

“Y/n listen to me–this isn’t you. Let me help you, let me fix it!” She didn’t listen, her hands grasping for a large sliver of mirror that had landed between them and holding it to the skin of his throat. He grew more frantic, his hands coming up to push back at her forearms. “Please don’t do this Y/n. I want to help you–what about our future remember? We all live at the estate like the old days?” 

Her golden eyes glitched in and out of color, and her face split into a pinched cry of despair. “Yoongi…” She hiccupped and her shoulders curved in on themselves in shame. “I don’t want to, I can’t stop it! I don’t want to do this anymore…” She nearly toppled forward onto him, but he didn’t let her, bracing his hands on her forearms and forcing their eyes to meet. 

“I know,” He nodded reassuringly even though his forehead was now slicked with sweat and his nostrils flared from the exertion it took to hold her hands still. He lowered her forehead to press against his. “I know. I believe you. Just put this down so we can figure it out together, yeah?” 

Warmth dripped onto his chest from wrapping both of their hands around the glass, and she winced at the sting. “I want to let go…” 

“Then let go.” Yoongi almost had the shard out from her hand, inching it little by little until only the end was lodged in her fist. 

Whatever was inside of her regained control, and she cried out like a wounded animal, using one of her feet to kick at the fallen mirror and making it split and spray more glass over the floor. Her entire body tremored as she fought for control, the knife coming closer and closer to his chest. The door banged against the wall, spilling glowing light into the room over the two of them and giving him just a second to recover some of his strength with her moment of distraction. 

Hoseok went through a range of emotions–shock, confusion, jealousy, fear–and Yoongi watched them all come and go in a matter of seconds. But he didn’t have all day to wait for him to come to terms with what was happening; he had approximately five seconds to get the upper hand or she would surely kill him. Even if the sight of Hoseok’s face made him want to strangle the fucker on the spot, he was his only hope. 

“Help me! Please!” Yoongi begged through his teeth, his arms beginning to bend under the strength Y/n pressed down on them with. 

The color around Hoseok’s head changed to a glowing golden halo as he leapt onto the two of them, knocking Y/n clean off his chest and sending the two of them tumbling over the glass where they wrestled for the blade in her hands. Yoongi only let himself have one good breath before reluctantly throwing himself back into the fray, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s shoulders and using his body weight to topple the two of them backwards so Hoseok could have easy access to her hands.

Y/n kicked and screamed out in defiance as Hoseok pried the piece from her bloody hold and tossed it into the bathroom so she couldn’t reach for it again. He threw himself down onto her legs to stop them from kicking his side or face, and cast a nervous glance up to Yoongi. 

“You got a plan, or what?” 

Yoongi scowled at him from over Y/n’s shoulder, his grip growing weaker the more she thrashed about with never ending strength. “Sorry–haven’t gotten that far yet. Haven’t had time between being held at knife point and restrained.” 

Hoseok grimaced and looked down at Y/n, his cloud turning purple with shame. “Fair.” 

Footsteps thundered down the hall, and the three idiots that had blown up his phone shoved themselves through the doorway, Jungkook slid across the floor on his knees to take Yoongi’s place, slotting his arms over hers and effortlessly restraining her. 

“Thank fuck!” Yoongi rolled onto his side to catch his breath, hissing as a small piece of glass lodged itself in his eyebrow when he let his head fall to the floor for a moment’s rest

“Namjoon–Tea!” Jimin pushed the taller man out of the door and into the hall in a frenzy. Once Namjoon had taken off in a sprint, Jimin joined them at Y/n’s side and gripped the hand that wasn’t bleeding within his own, speaking gently to her. “Hey my love, stay with us. We aren’t mad at you, just try and calm down for me.” 

Y/n fought harder, and Hoseok nearly lost control of her lower extremities, and she gnashed her teeth at Jimin like she wanted to rip his throat out. “I’LL KILL YOU! GO AWAY!” 

“No you won’t, I know you won’t.” Jimin soothed, looking at her with kind eyes even though a storm of his own raged on over his head. He had never seen Jimin so scared. “I know you can fight it.” 

Namjoon returned with a small bottle, twisting the dropper off the top and crouching down over them. “I’m going to do my best here, so if you can hold her still–” 

“We’re trying!” Hoseok groaned, and it was as though Namjoon had just fully registered his presence. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Namjoon spat, ceasing his movements of bringing the dropper to Y/n’s snapping mouth. 

“Namjoon,” Jimin scolded with a snap of his fingers in his face. “Focus.” 

Namjoon leant forward and got the dropper as close to her mouth as he could but she pressed her lips together and shook her head violently to avoid any of it entering her mouth. He furrowed his brow and looked to them for aid. “I need someone to hold her face still.” 

Yoongi hoisted himself up to the challenge, kneeling over her and looking into her discolored eyes with pity. “Sorry about this sweetheart. You can yell at me for it when you’re not reenacting a scene from the exorcist.” He took both hands and grabbed hold of her face with all of his strength, forcing her mouth open for Namjoon to drop the liquid into her mouth. 

They saw the effect within seconds, her strength diminishing almost instantaneously, and her fighting went from vigorous to feeble pushes of her hand. Out from her cloud came the color he associated with her fear, and one singular tear tracked down her cheek that Yoongi didn’t hesitate to swipe away with his thumb. 

“You’re going to be okay.” Yoongi whispered as her eyes found his, wide and distressed. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Y/n finally gave in, her eyes rolling back into her skull as she succumbed to the tincture that Namjoon had concocted, her body going completely still. The five of them breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Hoseok fell off her lower limbs onto his side much like Yoongi had the moment she lost consciousness, his muscles shaking with fatigue. 

Namjoon nodded in greeting to Yoongi, clearly displeased at the choices he had made to lead them here. “Glad to have you back. Though I’m trying not to say I told you so.”

“Next time,” Jungkook kept Y/n close to his chest so she wouldn’t fall into the sea of glass below them “don’t be a dick.” 

“Have a nice trip, Yoongi?” Hoseok chuckled nervously, one of his hands coming up to swipe hair from sticking to his sweaty forehead. All four heads turned to him with varying levels of dissatisfaction–Yoongi’s fists clenched and released themselves at his side to keep himself from swinging one of them at him. 

“Shut up.” Yoongi bit back breathlessly, Namjoon and Jimin respectively sharing similar sentiments, their annoyance overlapping one another like a choir.  

“Not now, Hoseok.” 

“I suggest you remain silent for your own well being.” 

Hoseok scanned all of their faces with visible defeat etched into his features, stopping to take in Jungkook’s deadly glare before he closed his eyes and tipped his head to land on the floor below him with a thump. “Yeah, guess I deserve that.” 

_________________________________________

_________________________________________

Next Chapter

taglist: @kokoandkookie @rkive-joonie @singdancedreampray @erescheesemelted

[venusiangguk]

idealizations concerning real life relations | jjk (m)

>>pairing:jungkook x reader / fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc

>>genre:s2l, fwb, smut, angst

>>word count: 40.9k besties i am so sorry

>>warnings: jk is so sweet, but also so evil lmao, oc lives in her little noggin, angsty fwb, drug and alcohol use, tattoos, multiple smut scenes that include: oral (m/f), fingering (f), light face slapping (with hand and cock??), praise, degradation, marking, dirty talk, so many creampies yum, multiple orgasms, kissing :(, cumming in pants :), probably more but i cant think of it, ok other stuff now, manipulation, infidelity, oc thinks jk is made of stars :(, jk thinks she is so pretty :(, misunderstandings, some fluff if you squint, brunette jk, blonde jk, n blue jk,  1 mentions of: howls moving castle, too many mentions of: stars, the color pink

>>notes: bruv i do not have anything to say for myself EXCPET that i worked v hard on her and i really hope u like it <3 beta: @birbdae​ tysm for dealing with this, she is long lmao >>> soundtrack

this is split up by seasons, so if 40k is a lot for one sitting, you can read one season at a time if that is easier :)

>>summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

Keep reading

[illumisone]

STOP IT DAMN IT! I SAID STOP!!!!!!!!

[michuga]

Kaleidoscope

summary: Supposedly, when you turn 19, sometime within that year, you meet a guy who turns your whole life upside down. Your first love, your first heartbreak. One year. 365 days, 5 hours, 49 minutes.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

content: artist reader, tattoo artist jk, use of korean name, overuse of the word 'lover', fluff, their favorite hobby is admiring eachother, angst, angst, then more angst, shared trauma, basically just life happening

warnings: cursing, pregnancy & childbirth, abortion, miscarriage

wc: 6.5k

a/n: bare with me as i try to figure out my writing style ㅠㅠ i almost cried while writing this. or maybe i got some chappell in my eyes, idk. enjoy!

.ılılılllıılılıllllıılılllıllı.

Kaleidoscope - Chappell Roan

0:24 ─●──────── 3:42 ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

It's funny, isn’t it? For someone who had it all figured out at 18, standing here at 23 and watching him pack his bags for the last time, you can’t help but let your mind wander. Somewhere between 18 and 23, you tumbled (on a rock, a Jeongguk shaped rock) and you’ll never be the same.

You had heard stories about “the boy you meet at 19”. Friends, family members, hell, even online communities complained about it. Supposedly, when you turn 19, sometime within that year, you meet a guy who turns your whole life upside down. Your first love, your first heartbreak. One year. 365 days, 5 hours, 49 minutes.

That was all bullshit of course.

Jeongguk was not your first love, nor your first heartbreak. Nevertheless, you know what he was? He was your first clash. Your first storm, the first rain after a long hard year of drought. there’s no other way to explain it. He didn’t sweep you off my feet or visit your house with a boombox on his shoulder begging for you back, but it all turned out just the same.

"This seat taken? All the others are." You hear a voice call out, snapping you out of your creative flow.

You look up to see the most beautiful pair of mahogany orbs you've ever seen.

You look around, most of the seats empty.

Confused, you answer, "Sure?"

He pulls out the chair in front of you, with a huge grin.

"I'm Jeongguk," He says, extending a hand for you to shake.

His t-shirt sleeves strain against his biceps, and you finally notice his inked arms. What you don't notice is holding onto his hand for a few seconds too long, entranced by the stunning artwork.

Letting go with an awkward clear of your throat, you pull your hand back to rest on your laptop's trackpad.

"You are breathtakingly beautiful, and I would've beat myself up for the next two months if I didn't talk to you."

Arriving at the Jazz bar Jimin invited you to, you scan the room to find him.

Locking eyes with him, you make your way across the room to where he's sitting.

You loved being friends with Jimin.

Jimin was charismatic, chic. Always dressed to the nines with his leather jackets and designer boots. He carried around this sense of subtle dominance, deep down he knew he controlled every room he walked in. But most importantly, he was also the gentlest friend you could ask for.

If you ever needed a shoulder to cry on or a pair of hands to hold your hair back when you throw up, Jimin made sure you knew he was always one call away. As were you, when it came to him.

"You made it! Hello, hello, hello!" Jimin chirps, extending his arms out only to engulf you in a bear hug.

"I can't wait to see Tae on stage!" You say, coming out from the hug.

The main event of the night; Taehyung, Jimin's boyfriend, was to perform a song with his band tonight.

"Come! Sit with us." Jimin says, leading you back to his table.

You notice five men already seated. Upon first glance, you didn't notice anything unusual, all of you exchanging greetings. That was until your eyes land on the last man on the far end.

"You again?" You blurt out of surprise.

"Me again. Hi beautiful." The familiar man says with that cheeky grin of his, his eyes having been already fixated on you the minute you walked through the door.

"Wait. You two know each other?" Jimin asks confused, looking back and forth between the two of you.

"You can say that.." You answer meekly, looking away.

Looking back at Jeongguk, Jimin waits for an explanation.

He only gets a shrug from the younger man and another grin from him in response as you move to sit next to him.

"No, you're gonna tell me! I want to know." Jimin complains as he sits down.

As the night went on, you and Jeongguk got to know each other more. You had always longed for the organic in relationships. An organic meeting, organic conversation, and most importantly; organic chemistry. It seemed like the man in front of you checked all your boxes.

It turns out you and Jeongguk were way more similar than either of you initially thought.

You both had this sense of freedom, like no matter what anyone told you. If you had your mind set on something, you'll make it happen, simply because you willed it so.

You carried this sense of carelessness-- no, that's not the right word. Lightness? Ease? navigating the world. Like in the end, nothing really matters. Both of you live life on a whim. You joked about hoping it wouldn't be your downfall, then laughed it off.

"Do you ever look at the stars?" You say, laying on your back, looking up to the sky.

"Do I ever look at the stars?" He slowly repeats, laying on his stomach, admiring the freckles on your face. "Hmm.."

“I don’t need the stars. I have your eyes to look at.” He answers after a few seconds of fake pondering.

“That’s so sappy oh my gooooddd”

“What can I say? You make me sappy baby.” He says with a stupid grin, brushing strands of hair away from your face.

You and Jeongguk had been dating for a month and a few weeks now. Initially scared shitless to open your heart up again, you're glad you've made that decision. You can confidently say you've never been happier.

You continue, "You don't ever like, count them? You know they're actually dead, right?"

"Dead? Whaaat? That's crazy," He says, smiling like a lovestruck idiot.

Finally shifting your focus to the man next to you, you glance sideways, “God, I love you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

It's your 1-year anniversary with Jeongguk. Both of you were inseparable at this point, where one of you went the other followed. From that point onwards, both your lifestyles tangoed and merged into one. His friend group became yours, your favorite spots became his, and everything else that could be shared, was. It was the most delicate display of intimacy; domesticity.

After taking you out to a nice romantic dinner, both of you ended up at your apartment. One of the many things shared within your relationship was your homes. This, being his second one, wasn't unfamiliar to him.

Gently tracing your curves, Jeongguk lay sideways. His head propped up on his elbow, admiring you. Opposite him, you lay on your side, reading your book.

"Watcha' readin'?" He asks in a silly tone, the very one you'd use to talk to a kid.

With a sly smirk and a brief glance at your lover, you answer him.

"Smut. Steamy, filthy smut. But after the passionate romance, of course."

"Oh? Anything in particular you'd like to recreate?" He takes on a challenging tone, slightly amused.

"Maybe."

"Can I see?"

"Nope. You'll have to figure it out yourself."

"Not even if I ask politely?"

"Nnnnope!"

And just like that, the calm before the storm ended. You had dug your grave and laid in it. All that was left now, was to await your fate-

"You cheeky little minx, come here," He says with a renewed vigor, swiftly getting on top of you and getting straight to work tickling your sides.

"Nooooo, please, please," You say breathlessly in between tickles.

You're not sure if it's physically possible to laugh your way to a six-pack, but it seemed to you that in those 30 seconds it had been made possible.

"Alright, baby please!" You yell, desperately gasping for air.

Finally freeing you from this relentless torture, Jeongguk stops. As the laughter dies down, both of you pant with stupid smiles plastered across your faces. With Jeongguk still on top of you; his weight balanced on both his arms, you stare into each others eyes.

"Y'make me feel so loved, y'know.. You're my person, gguk." You coo, affectionately brushing his hair away from his face with one of your hands.

"Thank you for trusting me enough to be that for you, baby. You make me the happiest man on this damn planet. I mean it."

"Move in with me." You blurt out.

"Okay."

"You spend most of your time here anyway, my apartment can fit both of us, you have clothes everywh- what?"

With a giggle, he repeats, "Okay. I'll move in with you"

"That easy?!" You scoff.

"Who told you it was hard?" Scrunching his nose at you, he continues, "I'd carry the sun aflame; scorching hot and all, with my bare hands for you should you ask. Are you really surprised?"

"Jesus, Shakespeare. You trying to get into my pants or something?"

"Maybe. Is it working?" Flashing you a bunny smile, he leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

You roll your eyes, but without an ounce of annoyance.

"For the last fucking time Jeongguk, stop leaving your clothes all over the place!" You let out, irritated.

Ignoring you, he keeps scrolling through his phone.

"Hey! Did you hear me?" You continue, waving your hands in front of his face.

"Why are you yelling right now? That's really unnecessary."

"So your answer is to ignore me?"

"You know I don't like being yelled at. Speak to me like a normal human being."

"I would, if you were behaving like one."

"Whatever," He says with a tsk.

Jeongguk isn't usually unreasonable, it was just one of those days. Both of you have those days sometimes. Now, more than usual though.

"I asked you to move in with me because I love you. Now stop being a child and pick your damn clothes up." You spit, tossing his shirt that was once sprawled out on the floor, in his face.

A few hours later, both of you head out to meet your friends.

Arriving at the hangout spot, you and Jeongguk take your seats next to your friends.

"There you are, lovebirds!" Hoseok yells out excitedly, standing up to greet you.

The drinks kept coming. You could handle your liquor, but you knew Jeongguk couldn't exactly do the same.

A steady stream of alcohol was maintained. One drink, two drinks, then the next, and the next.. He gulped them down with ease one after the other, until he was slurring his words.

"And then I told him; that can't possibly be right, you're not exactly the brightest" Jimin says, the entire table bursting into laughter at his story.

"How are you guys? Enjoying the domestic life together? Tae asks, slowly sipping his drink next to Jimin.

Silently glancing over to Jeongguk, you brace yourself as you watch him prepare to speak.

"Loooooove this one," He blurts with a lopsided smile, throwing his free arm around your shoulder. "Always has to keep the house all neat and tidy,"

"Baby, you've had a bit too much to drink, yeah? I think we'll head out now guys."

Noticing the awkward shift in the air, the guys agree with you and tell you it's fine, gesturing for you to get up.

"It's not like y-you always pay attention t'me. W-why do you only pay attention when you're- scolding me?" Jeongguk continues, in between hiccups.

"C'mon. Up you go," You say ignoring him, wrapping your hands around his torso to get him up.

With Taehyung's help, you finally manage to lay Jeongguk's (very heavy) body across the backseat of his car.

"Thanks, Tae. God knows I would've ruptured a disc had I attempted that alone."

"It's really no problem, cupcake. Make sure to text us when you get home safe, alright?"

With a sigh and a nod, you get into the driver's seat.

"Why are you being like this?" You murmur, starting the car.

One of your favorite past times with Jeongguk is spending time together doing your own thing. It's the best and most efficient way to get things done while silently supporting the other. It also tells you a lot about how comfortable and safe you make each other feel. You have nurtured this relationship so carefully, and watched it blossom into what you have now. Jeongguk knows this, he knows how at ease you feel during these simple, mundane times.

What you haven't told him though, is you have something you enjoy more.

Secretly admiring him as he works.

Sometimes when he's fully immersed in the task at hand, you secretly stop what you're doing and just stare at him. There were times you even pretended to do something, just so he can get busy and fail to notice your piercing gaze.

You can't help it. In your eyes, he's perfection itself.

So this time, as he was typing up an essay, you grabbed your sketchbook and got to work.

Spilling ink to fill the blacks of his eyes, carving out the beautiful slant of his nose, the little mole under his lip.. His sweet honeyed features come together to breathe life into your drawing.

This isn't the first time you draw him. Time and time again, you've tried to mimic his essence on paper. You're not one to brag, but you'd like to think you're a good artist. Great even, from what your professors have told you; but try as you may, you have never once been successful. No amount of charcoal or white highlights on the canvas in your hands could capture a glimmer of your lover's warmth.

"Is that.. is that me?" You hear a voice say, snapping you from your thoughts.

Whoops.. Guess you got careless and accidentally drowned in his eyes for real this time.

Your cheeks turn a rich shade of crimson as you shyly nod.

Sliding his laptop off his lap and taking his glasses off, he asks, "Can I see?"

Reluctantly, you hand him the sketchbook.

"It's not finished.. I was gonna shade some more and add highlights-"

He flips through the pages, looking at the earlier pages.

"Wait!" Leaning over, you try to grab the sketchbook from his hands. However, he manages to swiftly move his body, lifting the sketchbook out of your reach.

Nevermind that he caught you drawing him, that entire sketchbook was filled with sketches of him.

Finally reaching the first page, his eyes scan the page to read the words written in cursive,

"୨୧ Jeongguk Sketchbook ୨୧"

He stayed silent for a few minutes.

"Baby.. Are you mad at me?" You ask, concerned. With a bite of your lip, you anxiously wait for him to say something.

"I'm gonna marry you one day," He says, looking into your eyes in awe.

"I wish my professors reacted that enthusiastically upon seeing my work," You giggle, relieved. "Also, is that a threat?"

"It's a promise," He says with a roll of his eyes, fighting a grin.

Settling into his accustomed place between your thighs, he gets on top you.

"You have an essay to write. No funny business, mister." You jokingly scold, patting his butt with your foot.

"Okay mom," He says with a smile as he starts kissing all over your face.

"Nooo, why'd you have to say that before kissing meee" You whine, turning your head left and right to avoid his kisses.

Scrolling through your phone, you wait at the tattoo parlor Jeongguk works at for him to be done with his client.

Handing you a bottle of water, Yoongi takes a seat next to you.

"He'll be out in a few. Just wrapping the client's tattoo." He informs you.

"Can I see that?" You gesture to the tattoo book on the table, "Jeongguk" written on the cover.

Handing you the book, he starts, "Quite the talented one, your boyfriend. We have lots of artists, but his work really is a sight for sore eyes. Clients usually go for him."

With a giddy smile, you open the book, "You know when I first met him, his tattoos were the first thing that caught my eye. Not to brag but, I don't doubt any of that for a second."

Chuckling, Yoongi gets up. "I'll be in my office if you need anything."

With an appreciative nod, you thank him.

Feeling the couch take a dip, you smell him before you can see him.

"Hi baby," He takes a seat next to you.

"Hi my love," You lean in to kiss him. "I knew you were talented but holy shit, your hands were kissed by angels."

"The only angel that's ever kissed them is sitting next to me. So you're right, I guess." He says, nodding in agreement.

Tracing the lines in the book, you stare in awe. It seems your lover renders you speechless most of the time you're with him.

"Soo... I did a thing," Jeongguk says as he enters your shared apartment, taking off his shoes.

"Uh-oh."

"No uh-oh. C'mere," He beckons with his hand, buzzing with anticipation.

Turning off the stove, you make your way over to him.

"Close your eyes,"

"Okay, now I'm scared."

"Hurry uuupppp."

Placing your palms over your eyes, you reluctantly obey.

"No, not your hands. Give them to me."

Suspicious, you keep your eyes shut and reach out your hands for him to take.

You hear the sound of fabric shuffling, then feel your fingers touch warm skin.

Warm.. engraved skin?

"You can open them now."

Your jaw hangs open.

"Oh baby, That's beautiful.." You say, your eyes welling up with tears.

Staring back at you is your birth flower, tattooed on Jeongguk's side below his ribs.

"Since you were so in love with my designs, I thought I'd make you one your own."

Chuckling, you reply, "Shouldn't it be on my body then?"

"You make a good point, but my body is yours, so by extension, this tattoo is also yours."

"Okay smarty pants." You say with a smile, wiping away the tears rolling down your face. "Let's go watch a movie."

One kiss. Two kisses.

"Baby.." He says, turning his head away.

"Let me make you feel good. Just relax." You graze your hand along his chest.

With a sigh, he sits up, letting your hands fall.

Frustrated, you get up.

"How much rejection can I take?" Finally fed up, you burst. "How many times are you gonna shut me out?" This hadn't been the first time Jeongguk denied you. He's been mentally withdrawn from you for a few weeks, coming up with one excuse or another.

He rubs at his temples.

"I try and I try and I try. You don't talk to me about what bothers you, you barely touch me anymore.. What am I supposed to do, Jeongguk? You're with me but you're not even here." Desperate for an answer, you plead.

"I already told you. I'm taking more courses this semester, and Yoongi wants me to work extra shifts at the parlor. Not exactly an aphrodisiac for me."

"Baby, stress will always be a part of our lives. You have to lean on me when it gets hard, that's what relationships are for. We're a team now, you can't keep shutting me out like this."

You had always been upfront with Jeongguk about the importance of communication within your relationship. You could handle just about anything, but not this.

Crackle. Pop.

It was New Year's Eve, you heard fireworks go off outside your home.

At almost midnight, you were waiting for your boyfriend to come back.

Sitting under your skylight, you admire the show in the sky. The light illuminates your face as you gaze up.

You feel your phone vibrate in your lap.

J<3: "Working late."

J<3: "Don't wait up."

Life had a funny yet cruel sense of irony. Everyone was out celebrating, while over here, it seemed like your whole life was coming to an end.

After what feels like hours of dreary silence, you hear the front door open. He's home.

Nervously pacing back and forth in your shared bathroom, you wait for him to come into the bedroom.

God, it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

You hear footsteps. Turning around, you meet his eyes.

"I'm pregnant." You say abruptly, with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

At 21, this is the last thing you expected to happen. It seems you had gotten careless. Young and in love.

After a few moments of utter silence, both of you sit side by side on your bathroom floor.

"Fuck. Fuck, okay. Fuck."

You burst into tears for the third time that night.

"I'm not ready.. we're not ready.. Can't believe this is really happening.. ggukie, what are we gonna do? m' so scared"

"Hey, hey, hey.. It's okay. We'll get through this. You hear me, baby? We're gonna be alright. It's okay. I've got you. As long as we both have each other, nothing else matters." He reassures, pulling you both into the bathtub, cradling you into his chest.

"Sure it's happening sooner than we thought, but this was the plan all along angel, wasn't it? hm?" He says softly, wiping away your tears. "We'll get married, once you pop out this little one we can get a house in the suburbs.. My parents can help us out financially.. My love, look at me. Deep breaths."

You calm down, finally catching your breath. You had forgotten you weren't gonna be alone in this. You felt as long as you had Jeongguk, you were ready to face anything.

"What about school?" You ask.

"You can take a gap year. I'll drop some classes and make sure I'm by your side."

"I'm gonna be a dad." He says after a long silence. You feel tears wetting your shirt, unsure whose they were.

And maybe it was going to be alright. Because you were in his arms. Carrying his child, you were going to have your own family. With the man you love.

You finally allow yourself to feel excitement. The joy of becoming a mother. You allow yourself to feel hope, the kind that comes with the promise of a seedling sprouting from the dirt.

One thing you admired about him was his humility. Perhaps one of the most powerful things he does is; at his best and most successful, my baby comes back home and kneels before me. Looking up at me, I see in his eyes everything I ever prayed, could pray, and would ever pray for.

My lover never once forgot me. No matter what it was, he always shared it with me. Not once has he ever treated me as less than.

"Baby! Guess what I gooot!" You hear the front door shut.

Truthfully, things had gotten better after your big news. Remarkably better. Jeongguk had been paying extra attention to you, making sure you’re well tended to, fed, comfortable.. It was almost like how you two were in the beginning. When it was still fresh.

Running into your room excitedly like a little kid, Jeongguk holds up a pair of baby socks.

"Look how adorable!" He exclaims, eye twinkling.

Smiling fondly, you entertain him as you rub your already swollen belly.

"I can't believe they make socks that tiny." You reply with a soft chuckle.

"I know, right? I didn't even know someone's feet can be this tiny!"

At 3 months pregnant, things weren't as bad as you had initially expected. You had taken a gap year, like Jeongguk suggested, and both of you were doing just fine.

Having him by your side made everything so much easier, and you wondered why you ever thought you couldn't do this. Being his lover and the mother of his child was the easiest and most natural thing for you.

Unrequited

/ʌnrɪˈkwʌɪtɪd/

adjective

(of a feeling, especially love) not returned.

Can love be one sided?

A question I'm sure has been passed around for centuries past. After all, I'm sure you're familiar with the term "unrequited love".

So can it be?

Well, I don't think so.

I believe people who claim it, mislabel infatuation. Love can never be one sided. As far as I'm concerned, in order to fall in love, both sides have to have experienced their fair share of vulnerable moments. Human moments. For the word "love" to be spoken and for it to be real, it has to exist tangibly, undeniably, between two people. Love does not shy away and hide, love stands tall and proud; like the biggest elephant any room has seen.

If there really is love on one side, it's mirrored on the other side as well.

Some may argue, the term "unrequited" still stands, because the other person may feel love, but not the romantic kind intended; I beg to differ. Love, no matter its form, will warm you from the inside out. To deny its existence on the other side merely because you don't like how it takes shape and presents itself, is a selfish act of fraud.

As usual, good things don't last.

You like to think the love was there. It really, irrefutably, was. And most days, that's what get helps you get by. After all, the life growing inside you was proof of it. Or was, anyway.

Looking at your bathroom mirror, you see a woman you don't recognize.

You have the same eyes, but hers are weighed down with dark rings. Where you once saw a bright curious girl, stands a woman foreign, burdened with tribulations; the aftermath of adolescence.

Turning to the side, you lift your shirt up to reveal your stomach. You lightly ghost your hand over your abdomen. Pang in your chest, sting in your eyes. Breathe, 1, 2, 3.

You walk into your shared bedroom to find Jeongguk seated on the bed with his phone in hand.

Your steps coming to a halt, you look up at him. With dead eyes, you mumble quietly, "I lost the baby."

"What was that?" He asks, unable to quite make out what you were saying.

"I lost the baby," You repeat, loud enough for him to hear this time.

Frozen in shock, he stares at you with wide eyes.

"..What?" He says with a whisper, tears instantly flooding his eyes.

You stay silent.

"Are you- Are you sure??" He asks with urgency, immediately springing up from the bed to stand infront of you.

With a slow and apprehensive nod you reply, "Just got back from a checkup."

Jeongguk raises his hand to rub his face. You flinch.

Mortified, Jeongguk looks at you with wide eyes.

"Did- baby did you just flinch? What the fuck?" He says, hurt written all over his face.

You slide down the wall behind you, needing anything to stabilize you. Of course you weren't expecting him to hit you. Were you? You don't know anymore. Your body has become foreign to you, and you curse it for always betraying you throughout your years. This time, it had been the biggest betrayal of all.

Jeongguk immediately reaches to grab your weak body, kneeling on the ground with you.

He takes you in his embrace once more, and a cruel, ironic sense of Déjà vu washes over you. Once more, you lie in each others arms. Only last time marked a beginning, this time marked the end.

But the love was there. Right?

If Jeongguk hadn't been touching you as much before, now he really didn't, at all. It's not that he didn't try, he has, a few times. But you really, really can't bring yourself to let him touch you right now. When you shared that with him, he understood, he really did. But after all, how long can someone be understanding, until they finally realize, they've had enough?

"It's been months.. I understand how you feel, and it's no easy thing what we just went through. What you went through. You're so strong, mama. So strong."

Mama. You could almost hear the crack in your heart.

"I don't wanna sound like an asshole, and I'll never, ever force you; so long as I draw breath.. but baby I long for you. I just want to connect with you like we used to.. I ache for your touch. I know it's not easy, but can you please try?"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," You whisper, averting your gaze to the floor with tears in your eyes.

"I think we should take a break." You blurt out, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"I need a break."

"From me?" He asks, voice coming out more fragile than intended. Jeongguk knew your relationship has become rocky to say the least, but what he wasn't expecting was this.

You stay silent.

"Okay.. If that's what you need." He lets out, defeated.

Getting up, you grab a suitcase and start packing clothes.

"Where are you going?" Alarmed, he instinctively gets up to follow you.

"To Jimin's."

Agonizing silence.

"Do you have to do this?"

"Yes."

You feel suffocated. You've heard of post-miscarriage hormones, and you don't know if that was what was causing your recent irritability, but it seemed like everything and everyone around you annoyed you. Never in your life would you have imagined that would include Jeongguk. You hated yourself for it. You tell your lover everything, but this one secret you were prepared to take to the grave.

"You're welcome to sleep with other people, if you'd like."

"You really need to stop making these decisions all on your own." He says, sounding fed up. "I don't fucking want to be with anyone else. Do you really think it's about the sex for me?"

Angrily stomping over to you, he gently grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Do you really think, all I want is a fucking nut?" Laughing in disbelief, he lets go of your face, ruffling his hair in frustration. "I want you. You."

Biting your lip, you grab your suitcase and make your way to the front door and text Jimin to let him know.

You hear a sigh and footsteps behind you. "Here, let me." Jeongguk says, taking ahold of your suitcase before you can argue.

With a small smile, you follow behind him. Even when he's hurt, he takes care of you.

You get in your car. Adjusting the mirror, you see Jeongguk looking back at you in the reflection. Forcing yourself to look away, you start driving.

Making your way inside Jimin's apartment, both of you take a seat on his couch, setting your suitcase beside you.

"What happened?" Jimin asks hesitatingly, scared to set you off. He knows of everything that happened the past few months, upset with you after realizing you had hid it from him for a while. He wasn't upset with you, but rather the fact that you had endured it alone all this time. But he understood. He could never blame you.

"We had a fight. Well, sort of," You explain with a sigh. "I told him I needed a break."

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

Upon your immediate approval, Jimin leaps into your embrace.

"I don't know where to begin," He starts, voice muffled by your clothes. Slowly pulling away, he catches your eyes.

"You've had it so hard. So hard." Tearing up, he continues, "If a break is what you need, I'll gladly support it. I may not always fully understand what you're going through, but know you always always have my full support regardless."

Seeing your angel of a friend cry, tears are brought to your eyes as well.

"Why are you crying? Aren't I supposed to be the one doing that?" You say, chuckling.

"So I can't cry now? Let me cry, woman!" Matching your energy, he replies.

You would never admit it to the man waiting for you at home, but within the confinements of your best friend's living room, you finally allow yourself to speak it aloud.

"Looking at him reminds me of what happened. He reminds me of her."

With a knowing nod, Jimin takes your hand in his.

"Our baby. God, Jimin, I couldn't stand to be in that room a minute longer."

You're glad you had your best friend alongside you all these years. Seeing you in all your states, he's the one person you can truly call family. Love like this, you were sure of. Love like this, you could never let go of. Love like this, you've learned to truly cherish.

You spent a little over a week at Jimin's.

You and Jeongguk hadn't been talking, and you noticed he was spending longer and longer hours away at night. Tonight you decided, enough is enough.

"Where the fuck have you been?" You spit out like venom, spotting the messy haired man at the front door. After waiting all night for Jeongguk to finally come back home, your voice had gained an edge.

"Does it fucking matter?" He answers, matching your vulgarity. A habit both of you, unfortunately, picked up.

"It's 4 am. You left without a word and now you smell like an entire fucking candy shop. Think I don't know what you get up to?" Because like any human being, despite making it clear you were okay with him sleeping with other people, the very idea broke whatever was left of your heart into tinier fragments.

You continue, "You think the loss of our babygirl hasn't impacted me? It hurt me the most. As I was sitting here, grieving your fucking child, you were out fucking whores. Instead of being with me and helping us get through it, you fucking bailed on me. You abandoned our relationship. You abandoned me."

"Watch your mouth. That's not fair. That is not fair. I have never unfaithful to you. We haven't been fine for a damn long time and you know it."

You knew you weren't being fair. You knew he wouldn't cheat on you, either. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't bring yourself to stop. You had reached the point of no return, and all your anger had come up to the surface to breathe. Claws, sharp edges and all, 'I am here. I am here.' it screamed.

“That doesn’t mean you stay out all night every single day and pretend I don’t fucking exist! If you want to break up, grow a pair and fucking say it to my face.”

"Frankly, that's none of your concern. You lost the right to what I did a long time ago."

If it weren't for the four years you've known this man, you would've missed the slight stutter in his words. You've memorized every freckle, every curve, every dimple.

"Are you drunk?" You ask slowly. Your anger dialing up to 100.

Ignoring you, he makes a beeline for the spare bedroom door. Where he had been sleeping for the past- you can’t even remember how long it’s been.

You don't know when you reached this point. It was all sunshine and rainbows, then it all went downhill. Well, you can't say it was sudden. To tell the truth, you and Jeongguk's relationship has been strained for a long time.

Upon asking him to move in with you, you had thought being in close proximity with your lover would make you grow closer. On the contrary, within the same four walls and under the same roof, you had never felt further from the person you were supposed to love for the rest of your life.

"Iseul."

He stops in his tracks.

"That's the name I had picked out for her. Iseul."

Turning around, Jeongguk looks at you as if you had just slapped him.

"That's a beautiful name," He murmurs.

"She would've been ours. Would've looked just like you, to a T. I bet she would've had your beautiful big eyes."

"She would've had your laugh.." He chokes out, tears flooding.

"We were supposed to get married and grow old together. What has become of us? Since when were we like this?

"Shit baby, I don't know. I don't know." Slowly walking over to you, he pulls your head in his chest. He holds you with the same frailty he used to. Back when you were younger. Back when he loved you. When you loved each other. It seems like nowadays all you do is fight.

Your communication has gone to shit. It was like both of you were speaking a language the other couldn't understand.

"We had something didn't we?" You whisper into his chest, your tears staining his shirt. "We loved each other, at some point, right?"

“Of course we did, baby. Of course we did. What we had, though humble, was real and I would never change it. The love was there."

He continues, "You’re gonna find so much better. you’re gonna have so much greater. We’re not meant for each other. God knows what we went through wasn’t easy. it was fucking hell. We fought tooth and nail to get here, I know your pain. I’ve seen your pain, it is mine too. Maybe it isn't fair to say this, but we need to get out of this bubble. Long as we keep coming back here, we’ll always be reminded of all the hurt and the pain. We both need fresh starts. We deserve it."

"Is this really happening? This is really happening. Oh god. Oh my god." Feeling a panic attack coming on, you try to take deep breaths.

Jeongguk hugs you tighter, gently stroking your back.

"That's it baby, breathe. Breathe, lover, breathe. Nice and slow, just like that. There we go, my love."

It passes, but the heartache doesn't, so you settle for keeping your face nestled into his chest, crying your heart out.

You love him. Oh god, you love him like you breathe air. But he's right, neither of you can live like this.

"I wish I hated you. You asshole, I wish you made me hate you." Weakly punching his chest repeatedly, you sob into his chest. "Would've made things so much easier."

Gently stroking your hair, he softly hums.

"Thank you for making this decision for both of us. God knows I'm not strong enough to leave."

"It's because I love you so much, I can't bare to see you like this. It kills me every waking fucking day."

Stepping away from your embrace, Jeongguk retreats to your bedroom.

Looking at him confused, you sniffle.

"Lovesong" by Adele blares through your apartment.

Stepping back out, he approaches you again.

"Come here, love."

Extending a hand out to you, he invites you to dance.

And so you did.

I hope my lover never forgets me.

Bonus

Silence.

You were once a teenager with loud thoughts. Loud, angry, vengeful. You were so, so angry. Now there's just silence.

Listening to the ocean waves crash against the rocks, you admire the scenery in front of you. Even in their violence, it seems to you that those very waves kiss the surface of the rocks, only to retreat in shyness. How romantic.

Was the ocean always this beautiful?

a/n: please let me know what you think! truthfully, i think i could've added more of my writing (beyond narration, i mean), but i didn't want to leave this rotting in my drafts for too long. if there's one thing i learned about being a creative, hiding your creativity, refusing to share it with the world, or putting it off is not only a waste; but you're denying beautiful, alike souls the pleasure of enjoying your work ♡

[illumisone]

Feels like I’ve been shot in the stomach, chest, and neck

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Perspectives

marshmallow floof plot: Megumi recalls you and Gojo falling in love through his eyes. content: fem! reader, megumi is in denial about caring about Gojo, Gojo is obsesseddddd with you shamelessly, but its okay because so are you with him! warning!: megumi is not good with emotions :/ or tolerating Gojo word count: 5.7k satoru gojo x reader note: can we pretend utahime and gojo are the same age pls and thank u - also i am delusional and in my head suguru did not defect so gojo never had to go thru all of that okay <3333 anywau i hope you enjoy!! put a lot of thought and love into this!

At only six years old, Megumi was already quite intelligent. As an extremely perceptive child, he understood far more than he should have at such an age. Typically, kids his age were naive and gullible; Megumi however was the complete opposite, and that was partially due to his aloofness.

When Satoru Gojo first met Megumi, he felt like he was talking to a grandpa in a miniature body, sassing anyone who dare interact with his little self. As stern and as gloomy as the boy persisted on to be, though, Gojo picked up on hints of tenderness and compassion laced between every word Megumi spoke about his sister, Tsumiki. Easily, Gojo could discern what he deemed too much deeply rooted pain and defensiveness in the young Fushiguro. Having his guard up was engraved into his mind; the wall he placed between him and the world had it's own sector in his immune system and acted with automaticity, an innate defense mechanism.

Despite all of the anguish intertwined in every breath Megumi exhaled, and despite his cold nature he employed to protect himself from being hurt again as he has before; despite being abandoned, and despite not being surprised he was; despite not even hitting double digits, yet already carrying the attitude of a the wisest owl; despite all of the thoughts racing through Gojo's head, he knew Megumi was special. Though a part of it may have been due to the responsibility he felt over the boy after murdering his father, Satoru Gojo was confident in one thing: he would take care of this kid like his life depended on it.

From then on, Gojo took the role of Megumi's benefactor, funding him and his sister so that they could live without worry. Megumi begrudgingly allowed him to endow his life, though it was rather difficult. The guy was so over-the-top and bothersome when he decided to actually go and physically check up him. Visits from were sparse, though, if Megumi really cared or needed anything, Gojo was always a text away.

And soon he would learn that you were, too.

The first time your existence was brought to Fushiguru's attention, it was mildly unintentional on Gojo's end. He was completing his routine check-in on Megumi about six months after taking him under his wing, ensuring he was doing fine in school - other than the fights he found himself in every now and again, of course. And after everything checked out okay, he rambled on about his week and how exhausting it was being the strongest, greatest individual to exist in this time and how much Yaga has been up his ass since he was promoted to principal and blah blah blah...

"Can you believe he was expecting me to get to the school before nine A.M.? Hah! Funny man. I need my beauty sleep. How else would I always look this handso- Oh!"

Megumi, who was in no way religious, praised in that moment whatever God up above sent a call to Gojo's phone at that exact moment, for he failed to believe he could have pretended to listen to another second of his unimportant and unnecessary rant. It truly was over-the-top, and Megumi was not a fan. He had never, nor did he think he would ever, warmed up to the way Gojo's ego seems to make a nearly empty room feel claustrophobic.

"Heyyyyy!" Gojo dragged, acting like a highschool girl with the way he twirled the end of his hair and giggled at whoever was at other end of the phone. If Megumi cared to look closely enough (which he totally doesn't, since he is so disinterested in Gojo and does not dare to look at him too long or he will automatically become annoyed), a rosy hue could barely be seen on the apples of the older man's cheeks, growing more and more apparent the longer the phone call went on.

Obviously, Megumi did not want to listen to the likely boring conversation, but since he was stuck in the same room as Gojo, he had no other choice but to eavesdrop on the phone call. Or, more accurately, he was playing detective to solve the mystery of who on the other end was transforming Gojo, as childish as he is, into a tweenage boy talking to a cute girl for the first time.

"I'm with Fushiguru, actually," Megumi overheard, his interest only minutely piqued after hearing his name. Whoever was on the other end must have known who he was already given the way Gojo did not feel the need to elaborate on who exactly Fushiguru was. That irked Megumi.

"Yeah, just hanging out, you know. I'd say we're best buds! Right, Megumi?" Gojo moved the phone away from his ear and looked at the boy across from him expectedly.

"No," is all Megumi spoke in response.

Gojo's eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a response, before he laughed and continued, "Silly guy! Such a silly guy."

The call took way too long and Megumi was half tempted to leave the room, but he was still getting used to Gojo and did not fully understand what his role was in his current situation. Was Gojo considered a houseguest? Was Megumi supposed to have something prepared as a thank you? Even if he was, he wouldn't do that for Gojo. What if something went wrong, or Gojo did something stupid? Tsumiki was at her after school club, being the natural social butterfly she was. Megumi had assumed the role of the man of the house at merely seven, and he was not going to disappoint her or let anything go haywire on his watch. This was his roof, and nothing would happen to their humble little abode under his watch.

Finally, Gojo said his goodbyes to whoever he was speaking to, set his phone down, and sighed in the most i-must-be-living-in-a-daydream-because-there-is-no-way-life-can-be-this-good-and-i-am-so-in-love-but-i-dont-even-know-it sort of way.

"You would like her," Gojo broke the silence after a few moments of savoring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Who was that?" Megumi queried, and if Gojo listened closely, he could hear echos of intense interest in the boy's simple question.

"A friend from work."

"You don't have friends."

"Hey!"

-----

After your existence was brought to light, it became a thing that whenever Gojo visited, he spent half the time on the phone - whether texting or on a phone call, it didn't matter. He was always talking to you.

Megumi supposed he should have felt grateful since Gojo finally became less unbearable. His check-ins, although hard to predict when they would be or how long in between they would reoccur, became less about how much Gojo loves himself and more about... well, you. It was a nice change from hearing his neverending egocentric comments, to be fair. Megumi was not complaining.

"You remember her, right, Megumi?" he asked while walking Megumi home from school one day. He was on a tyrant about something that had happened at Jujutsu High a few days prior before realizing he might had forgotten about the most important detail: you. The chance that Megumi may not even know who he was speaking about generated a sharp gasp escaping from Gojo's lips.

"Yes. She's all you talk about," Megumi deadpanned. What a stupid question, the boy thought to himself, when Gojo asked this every single time he bothered to show his face around here.

Gojo chuckled, responding in a voice that was way up in the clouds, as if he was skipping through a meadow abundant with good feelings and the potential for new relationships, "Hm, yeah. I guess you're right! Sorry, kid. Just had to make sure you knew."

At this point, Megumi learned a lot about you: You taught second-year sorcerers at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you went to Kyoto Jujutsu High, you were in same year as Gojo was, you were acquaintances for a while, your best friend (unfortunately so, as Gojo whined when he told Megumi) was Utahime, who was oddly protective of you and rude for no reason to Gojo (it is most definitely within reason), you were the most selfless person to walk the surface of this planet, you cared more for others than for yourself, and you and Gojo were really, really, really good friends now that you worked together and you two were close and he was friends with you and you texted him all the time and hung out too and you spent time together and you are theprettiestpersonhehadeverplacedhissixeyeson-

Basically, Megumi knew more about you than he comfortably should, and you were all Gojo seemed to talk about now.

Megumi found it sort of... endearing how much Gojo spoke about you. For someone so certain in himself and all of his glory, it was nice to hear him talk about someone else that way. He discerned an innocent intent in Gojo's actions, from the soft grin that graced his face when he rattled on about you, to the way he had begun to ask eight-year-old Megumi for advice on women (which he has surprisingly been helpful with - especially the time when Gojo didn't know if you'd prefer a specific flavor of mochi over another, and Megumi's suggestion ended up being the perfect one because it was your favorite). And though he would never, ever utter the words out loud, Megumi enjoyed hearing Gojo talk about you. It brought him down to earth and made him feel more like a mortal being; even Satoru Gojo crushed, fawning over you like you were a brand new toy and he was a toddler unwrapping gifts on Christmas Day. Even the man who had everything in the world simply wanted just like the rest of the world; he yearned for things in life that he did not ("Not yet, but surely soon!" Megumi was certain Gojo would say if he could read minds) have.

The two boys sat together at Megumi's, eating some sweets Gojo brought back from his mission. Gojo had a bouquet of flowers set delicately on the table in front of him, preparing himself to go to your house after his pep talk with Megumi and ask you on a date. Finally.

Staring at the flowers beside him, Gojo resolved to pick a flower out of the bouquet; a pretty, pale pink daisy that reminded him of the shade of your cheeks when he teased you. He rolled the green stem of the daisy back and forth between his index finger and thumb while echoing the declarations of his planned speech confessing his feelings for you. He had his heartfelt soliloquy memorized, but he was still feeling... apprehensive.

"She loves me," Gojo began, plucking a petal off of the flower and setting it delicately on the table. He spoke lowly, as if his life depended on the resolution he would find when he would extricate the last of the daisy's petals.

Megumi looked up from the book he was reading - a true crime mystery he had been quite invested in - to figure out what the man next to him was doing.

"She loves me not," Gojo plucked another petal, placing it on top of the other one he had already taken off.

Ah, Megumi understood it now. He's transforming into a child; his obsession with you had turned his brain to mush. He had now, mentally, been beat by Megumi, descending into the intellect a five year old smitten with a kindergarten crush.

"She loves me!" Gojo chirped. He plucked another petal before reporting with a glum tone, "She loves me not."

This went on and on. Megumi observed without a word and Gojo continuing the game that is so typically played on on a children's playground.

How on earth did you have such a drastic effect a man so above the rest of society? The man put on a pedestal by all of the Jujutsu world; the one who could take on any obstacle and leave without a scratch; the same guy who died and brought himself back to life; he could isolate himself from the rest of the world in an instant using only his limitless technique, yet, you always found a way to draw him back him - and somehow, somewhere in the mix, you had The Strongest Sorcerer wrapped around your finger.

"She loves me, Megumi!" Gojo proclaimed when he picked the final petal from the flower. "I mean, of course she does. Look at me."

Ah, there was the daily dose of Gojo's big ego; his head was as inflated as expected, but was on display little later than usual. Megumi referred to it as The Daily Dose of Gojo: DDG. He was bound to hear at least once a day about how much Gojo loved himself, whether through text or in person. But today, it was more like he was venturing to persuade himself on that fact, too.

Megumi then realized that this was the first time he had seen Gojo nervous.

He wondered what about you could make Gojo nervous, because not even the strongest of curses causes The Strongest Sorcerer to break into a sweat. What exactly is it that you have that grants you the title of the one human who could make Satoru Gojo nervous? He understood that you were special to him, but he still had never met you, and he is starting to want to.

He wasn't sure why he felt so protective over you. You were a twenty-year-old woman who he has never even met in person, even though he knew from Gojo the color of your eyes and the smell of the perfume you always wore. One thing was for sure, though: if Satoru Gojo messed with your heart, Megumi would fight him with all of the effort his child body could exert in one go, then kick his ass all the way to the core of the earth to be at such a heat that his infinity disfunctioned, ensuring he suffers for ever even considering toying with your feelings.

-----

"Fushiguru!" Gojo hollered as Megumi exit his elementary school.

Megumi glared at the white-haired male as he stalked toward him, untrusting of the motives at play. Gojo watched the child over the rims of his sunglasses, a toothy smile spread across his face while he waved excitedly. He had something planned, as per usual.

"What do you want?" Megumi groaned, and he eyed the two individuals in front of him with suspicion, though he already had an idea on who you were.

It was an uncommon sight for him to be picked up from school, but for Gojo to be accompanied by someone other than Ijichi was borderline shocking. There was only one person you could be, however, and Megumi suppressed the fluttering of excitement he felt as he saw you.

"Hey! Rude to speak to your elders like that," Gojo jested flippantly. "I want you two to meet!"

Fushiguru listened as Gojo repeated every syllable of your name that he has repeated a million times before. It rolled smoothly off of his lips, like caramel drizzle on the sweetest treat from his favorite bakery. It has been about two months since you, somehow willingly, agreed to a date with Gojo. It has been about a month since you agreed to officially be his girlfriend, which Yaga was not the most pleased to hear, but Gojo dealt with that and ensured the security of both of your jobs.

"Hi, Fushiguru!" You waved, a wide smile adorning your face. "Nice to meet you! Gojo talks about you all of the time."

"Hi," Megumi quietly said. He suddenly felt shy in your presence. You stood in front of him in all of your beauty, with the kindest smile on your face and the softest look in your eye, gazing at him as if he were the most important person in the world. Gojo did not do you justice when describing you to him.

And suddenly, everything Gojo ever said about you made complete sense - now, he finally understood how even the famed Satoru Gojo fell victim to the enigma that was you.

"I'm a friend of Gojo's! I wanted to meet you, and I don't know if you would want to, but I would love to get to know you," you offered. You folded your hands together in front of you and smiled politely toward the young boy. You were doing your best to not look too nervous because you really did want to get to know this kid, but from what Gojo's told you, he was not the most sociable character. Something about his melancholy aura is rather intimidating, to say the least, and you were doing your best to accommodate.

"...will he be there?" the kid questioned after some thought. As he spoke, he pointed his thumb toward his benefactor who immediately took offense to whatever he was implying, whining loudly in the background of what had become the two of yours conversation.

"Who, Gojo? Oh, well, he doesn't have to be," you suggested over Gojo's objections. "It can just be you and me. Or, if you are more comfortable with it, he can come with-"

"No. No Gojo," he interrupted. Gojo continued in his protests, but they all drowned into white noise as Megumi continued. "But sure."

You craved so badly to smile widely, high five Gojo for the feat you just accomplished, jump up and down, and display your excitement for his agreement on your face. But you were so worried you would scare him off, so instead, you opted for a soft smile while you said, "Great! Is now okay?

"Sure," he returned, emotionless as always.

"Perfect. Your pick on what we do. And it's on Gojo!"

And you walked away, ignoring Gojo whining after you. You'd coddle him tonight when he would inevitably pout to you about abandoning him for a little kid. For now, though, the important task at hand was getting to know Megumi Fushiguru - who reluctantly held your hand as you walked to the arcade he selected.

From then on, you were a common face in Megumi's life.

When he was in fourth grade, the two of you started a tradition where every other week, you would pick him up early from school and get ice cream and talk (as much as Megumi was willing to, at least). You had surprised him after school one day a couple months ago, and the routine stuck after he asked you to go again the couple weeks later. Not that you ever complained - you would never in your right mind take for granted Megumi willingly hanging out with you.

"So, how has school been?" you probed, Megumi begrudgingly held your hand as you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo (he claimed he was old enough to walk on his own, but you told him it was just for your own sanity in the scary world of Tokyo and when he turned ten you wouldn't do it anymore, and who was he to deny you of peace of mind when that is all you ever wished upon everyone els?).

"Fine," Megumi muttered. He was not the most fond of crowds, which was glaringly obvious as he squeezed your hand more aggressively the farther you ventured into the city. So yeah, maybe he did kind of appreciate your overprotectiveness.

That was the day you learned Megumi had his first crush.

Well, okay, it wasn't really a crush. He just thought someone was cute.

As you sat side-by-side, he ate his vanilla ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles, you ate your choice of ice cream, and the two of you chatted - meaning you talked, and he occasionally threw in a word or two.

"Any girls you think are cute? Or guys?" You sought, emphasizing the teasing nature of your question by tapping your elbow into his side. Megumi glared up at you through the strands of his hair, but you could see the red tint on his pale skin - a sign you were on to something. "Ooooh! Tell me all about them!"

"Stop it," he sulked and stared off into the distance, ice cream forgotten in his hand. You could tell he was thoroughly embarrassed, but you just could not for the life of you get over how adorable he looked.

"Aw, Megumi. I'm just teasing. But you can always talk about that with me, you know?" you offered. "I can give you all the advice on girls. I would not recommend asking Gojo about them. His flirting skills are... unconventional. Plus, I know I'm your favorite. So just gives an excuse to rub it in his face!"

"Thanks," Megumi spoke broodingly. His ice cream was starting to melt a little down the side of the waffle cone. The treat regained his attention as he finally noticed the melting mess, and immediately, he tackled cleaning it up. He hated messes.

"So... does that mean I'm your favorite?" you interrogated. This had been a debate between you and your boyfriend for a long time now.

"Sure."

And amongst the crowds of people, you - a full grown adult - hollered and jumped up and pumped your fist in satisfaction, because that was the best thing anyone had every said to you.

-----

Megumi took back whenever he had the ignorant thought that Gojo was becoming more bearable. Completely rescinded it. He was absolutely the most unbearable human to ever have walked this planet; residing in the same millennia as this man was barely tolerable, let alone inhaling the same air or sitting in the same room.

Gojo wanted to propose to you and he wouldn't stop talking about it.

Or asking Megumi for advice.

Yeah. Satoru Gojo was asking an eleven-year-old boy for help proposing to his long-term girlfriend.

You had been dating for over three years, and Gojo was growing impatient; he wanted you to be fully his. Not that you weren't already, but he wanted to be officially - by the law, by the symbol of marriage, and by the ceremony that accompanied it. He wanted you to take his name and be a new addition to the Gojo lineage, and if it came to the day, maybe add some little ones to the family. It was getting the point where want wasn't enough to describe how he felt - it was a necessity to marry to, to be yours forever.

Megumi had grown a lot closer with you with the past months, even opening up a little. He mentioned to you his internal debate regarding "good people" and "bad people", to which you listened, you heard him, and you cared. Genuinely. You hugged him, and in that moment, he felt so loved, he never wanted to leave your arms - the arms that would protect him from anything scary, like nightmares or curses, and shield him from experiencing any more hardships. He wasn't used to that - yeah he had his sister, whom he loved so dearly and she did in return, to be cared by a motherly figure was something he had barely experienced.

For the life of him, he could not figure out how or why you willingly, even happily, subjected yourself to the hinderance that was Gojo. Every time he asked you why, you respond, "Oh, Megumi, you're a funny one!" and laughed the heartwarming laugh that made him feel like home. Megumi knew, deep down somewhere he wouldn't ever like to admit, that you were happy, and Gojo made you happy. He knew you loved Gojo. He was fully aware of all of that. And he had witnessed as your relationship grew more serious with time Gojo beginning to think for more than just himself - he grew as an individual, doing what he thought was best for the ones he loved, rather than what suited him best. Megumi knew that come to it, Gojo would lay down his life for you. If it meant making a deal with the most dangerous curse, or if it meant sacrificing his soul, Gojo would do it for you, and honestly, Megumi had the inkling that Gojo would do it for him too.

"What if I have a plane do the whole 'marry me?' in the sky? Ugh, but that is so overdone. I need to be creative and go all out for her. What do you think, Megumi?" Gojo inquired, to which Megumi only tuned back in because he heard the sound of his name.

"Just ask her. You know she'll say yes," Megumi grumbled what he already knew was fact.

"Well, of course she will. Who would turn down my handsome self?" Gojo gestures to his person, a confident smile on his lips. "But you're right. Ugh, Megumi, what do I do?" Gojo held an ebony ring box, anxiously passing it from one hand to the other and back, the piece of jewelry it contained an indicator of how serious he was about this. Why he was carrying such an expensive ring around so casually was beyond Megumi's pay grade, but he knew Gojo would not let anything happen to it.

"You'll figure it out," Megumi said, as he had no ideas either - you deserved everything in the world, and no proposal or material thing would be enough to thank you for all you have done for everyone else.

"Oh my god, I did!" Gojo jumped from his seat, giddy as a little kid, and celebrated whatever idea he came up with. He placed the ring box in his pocket, where he would protect it with every cell in his body.

"Great," Megumi said. He prayed to himself that Gojo would now finally get out of his hair.

"I'll take her on a nice trip - she's always wanted to sightsee in Europe, but hasn't had the time - and then, once we land in Greece, I'll do it there and- and I'll leave it at that. Don't wanna spoil the surprise yet for everyone. Thanks Megumi!"

And Megumi smiled a tiny little smile to himself as Gojo exited his house, excited for the two of you.

And he congratulated you when you came home from the trip Gojo planned for the two of you. You visited him and ran up, showing off the ring you were sure Gojo spared no expense on. Though, Megumi had already seen it from the hundreds of times Gojo showed him it, and not to mention all the pictures you send him from overseas.

And he continued to be excited for you as he helped you with planning - because if there is one thing to know about Megumi, it's that he is organized. So he helped you figure your ceremony out by ensuring all the paperwork you had and the appointments you booked and all of your purchases were kept track of, or else the wedding would have been a disaster. If Gojo asked him for help, though, he would laugh in his face and say absolutely not.

And then, before he knew it, the wedding was there. Megumi was the ring bearer, of course. He was almost 13 at that point, and he was starting to grow into himself and show signs of growing up (puberty!).

He felt... happy.

Happy for you. Happy for the new and official makeshift family that established itself. Happy to know that you were genuinely happy, and that for all of the love you constantly gave to others without hesitation, someone gave finally was giving you that love back, and then some. Because he saw how much Gojo adored you, and honestly, there was no one else he would want to be with you.

Now he stands, at Tokyo Jujutsu High for his first year at the school. His benefactor who drives him up the wall is his teacher, and now, not only does he have to deal with him normally, but he actually has to listen to him.

But at least you're there too. He has you, always.

And for that, he smiles. A rare smile reserved for the sparse moments where he is genuinely happy - and he is, because he knows you'll save him from Gojo if he needs you to.

The improvised family he's found himself in may not be exactly what he dreamed of, but he's happy with it nonetheless.

And he still struggles with the dilemma of what is good or bad, and he still struggles to find his purpose in the world, and he is still angry at the universe for putting him in this world when there was no reason for him to be there, and he still struggles with the pain of abandonment and his found comfort in solidarity.

But that's okay. It'll be okay. He has you. He has you because Gojo brought you into his life.

He's grateful for that.

Megumi hopes one day he can find the love you share for himself. But that's a problem for the distant future. And when he has another crush, you will be the first to know - not because he would admit it to you, but because somehow, you always know. You know him better than he knows himself at this point, and it's a scary talent you have, but one you most definitely possess.

With that, Megumi steps forward, walking alongside you into the building he will be at almost everyday for the next few years. While he wasn't holding your hand like old times, it was okay. Because he was growing up, and he had a future ahead of him that made you so excited for him.

"I'll see you later, Meg. Got a long day ahead," you bid farewell and ruffle his hair. The two of you stop in the barren hallway facing each other, and you are disappointed at how he keeps growing, and at some point in the near future, he will surpass your height. It feels like you're shrinking, honestly, with how fast he's growing.

But you always knew he would at some point, just like you knew that he would one day decline holding your hand while in public, and how one day he would outgrow your ice cream runs (though they still happen every now and then, just not as frequent as in the past).

"See you," Megumi responds.

"Love ya!" You lean and place a chaste kiss on the side of Megumi's head. You remember when you used to be able to place one on the top of his head without going on your tiptoes, but times are changing, or you're shrinking or whatever, and the side of the head will do.

"Yeah, love you, too," Megumi says, rushing the end of the sentence and turning around to walk away. You say it to him so often, and he loves you, but it's still difficult for him to express that.

But that's okay. It's all okay.

He knows whatever is in the future, you will protect him, and Gojo will watch over him, and everything will be okay. The two of you will love him unconditionally, even if he struggles to say it back.

And he'll never admit it, but if there is one thing he's grateful for in life, it's Gojo, for he brought you into his life, and what a blessing it is to exist at the same time as you do.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, staring at the three individuals in front of you. "You sent Megumi alone to find Sukuna's finger at some school, which was taken by random students who tried to unravel it, which ended in this kid-"

"Yuji Itadori, sensei!" Yuji introduces himself, saluting to you for some reason.

"Right. Itadori ate the finger. Sukuna's finger. And he is now Sukuna's vessel."

"Yup!" Gojo confirms and he gives you a thumbs up. "That about sums it up."

"So tell me why when I asked about three hours ago why all of the higher-ups were acting like they were shitting themselves, you didn't think to tell me what happened?" you ask, irritation with your husband woven in between every syllable you speak.

"I did, but I knew it would be fine, so I didn't want to worry you."

"Worry? Really? Do you know how worried I was when they said Sukuna was there?"

"Honey, you know I'm strong. I can face him."

Itadori looks to his new comrade, Fushiguru, to see if he was uncomfortable to watch the couple argue in front of them. He fails to be consoled when he sees Megumi wasison his phone nonchalantly as if nothing's wrong. Yuuji assumes Megumi was just tuning them out as a student being used to teachers bickering, so he decides to try to do the same. But it's not working.

"I don't care about your strength, I care about Megumi, and I care about the lives of those students, and-"

"Hey, Fushiguru?" Itadori says, and Megumi hums in response. "Is this normal?"

"-they were put at risk, Satoru! Do you understand that?"

With the couple continuing to argue in the background, Megumi looks up from his phone finally, answering, "Huh, this? Yeah. Get used to it. He's an idiot."

"Yes, baby, I understand, but I made a judgement call and I stand by that. I'm sorry-"

"Ah. Well, um. Can we leave? Do we have to stay?"

"-for not keeping you informed, but I promise you, I had it under control."

"Yeah. They won't even notice we're gone until one of them asks for our opinion and then they notice we're missing. It's just funny to watch them sometimes."

"The higher ups want to execute him! An innocent kid! And I know you got sweets in the middle of all of that. Are you serious-"

"You're used to this?" Itadori inquires, a naturally curious kid.

"-ly telling me that nothing different could have been done to prevent this?"

"I guess you could say that."

rawrrrr thank u for reading i love you SMMMM i loved writing this hehee <33333

[aemondwhoresworld]

⚠️HOTD2 SPOILERS (25 GIFs)

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Aemond Targaryen — House Of The Dragon S2E6

[spookyserenades]

I am genuinely Unwell

[kingofbodyrolls-deactivated2025]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | series masterlist

“It will take some time To find your heart And come back home You could walk for miles Cross every river And find your not alone ‘Cos I'll be there” - From McLeod’s Daughters theme song

🐴 Summary: You’d never thought you’d step foot back at the ranch– a place you used to call home a long time ago. When you are forced to go back, reconcile with your sister and a certain childhood friend that you had long forgotten, will sparks reunite? 🐴 Pairing: jimin x reader (main) and jungkook x reader (one time). There’s other pairings throughout the story, but those aren’t with the reader, but between the other characters— there’s one mxm relationship but it’s very minor. 🐴 Characters: female reader (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴 AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au. childhood friends to lovers! 🐴 Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst (yes, it’s got everything lol!) 🐴 Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! 🐴 Word count: TBA (approx. 180k) 🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴 Warnings/tag: will be tagged for each individual chapter. But it does contain sexual themes, smut and a lot of sexual tension. 🐴 Status: ongoing! 2 chapters a week. 🐴 Fancy reading on AO3? It is cross-posted there! 🐴 Do you want to see the book cover (there's a teaser too)? [it's here]

🐴 Author’s note: this series is heavily inspired by the TV show McLeod’s Daughters. Some plot points will feel familiar, while others won’t (because I don’t follow that story structure to a tee). But If you love that show that I do, I’m 100% sure you’ll love this story too! Also, I don’t expect people to really be interested in this… this is more of a story about coming home, finding home, finding love and such… and I don’t know if you want to read that sort of thing? But I fucking love it! ✨

Chapter #1 - Inheritance | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter one

Chapter #2 - It’s a Long Road | word count: 9.1k | read → chapter two

Chapter #3 - Sometimes | word count: 11.8k | read → chapter three

Chapter #4 - It Comes to This | word count: 7.5k | read → chapter four

Chapter #5 - Our Home, Our Place | word count: 11k | read → chapter five

Chapter #6 - Wild Horses | word count: 11k | read → chapter six

Chapter #7 - We Got it Wrong | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter seven

Chapter #8 - Love You, Hate You | word count: 9.5k | read → chapter eight

Chapter #9 - Take the Rain Away | word count: 8.2k | read → chapter nine

Chapter #10 - The First Touch | word count: 16.4k | read → chapter ten

Chapter #11 - This Perfect Day | word count: TBA | read → chapter eleven

Chapter #12 - Broken Dreams | word count: TBA | read → chapter twelve

Chapter #13 - I Wish the Past was Different | word count: TBA | read → chapter thirteen

Chapter #14 - Did I Tell You? | word count: TBA | read → chapter fourteen

Chapter #15 - The Stranger | word count: TBA | read → chapter fifteen

Chapter #16 - Love of Your Life | word count: TBA | read → chapter sixteen

Chapter #17 - By My Side | word count: TBA | read → chapter seventeen

Chapter #18 - Home | word count: TBA | read → chapter eighteen

Please let me know if you're excited for this??? I'm still writing it, and honestly... I love it! But it's tough to write such a long series without any feedback or knowledge whether it's good or sucks... so.. yeah....

[delulu4anime]

Pairings: Illumi x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k+

Warnings: Breeding (Lol it’s Illumi, it would be against the law not to add a breeding kink), mating press, PIV, slow burn, brief mentions of death (Illumi eventually shows you his crazy side), time skips. Please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT FOR THE LOVE OF HADES. I started rewatching hunter x hunter and I forgot how much I adore Illumi. This man has me on my knees so quickly even tho he is TOXIC. Stayed up till 8 am writing this story about this sexy bug eyed man cause he deserves it. Yet another fan fiction where I listened to a song and went oh shit it’s this character. Not proof read. Enjoy!

Currently listening to: In the Middle of the night by Ellen Duhé- “I’m getting what is mine, you gon get yours.”

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You took a deep breath as you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The bags under your eyes indicated that you had gone a few days with little to no sleep. You couldn't remember the last time you got a good nights rest especially with the impending occasion coming up. There was a light knock at the door and with the turn of the knob your door was opened. Your mother cheerfully walked into the bathroom all dressed up for tonight's dinner. Your eyes drifted to your room which had been disturbed with the evening sunlight pouring, curtains you could've sworn were closed before you dragged yourself in here.

"Darling you really should open those curtains more often. It feels like a morgue every time I come in here," She huffed out.

Ah, so she took it upon herself to open them.

"I brought the necklace I wore on the night of my engagement dinner." She said turning her attention to the dark blue velvet box, setting it gently on the counter.

She quickly frowned upon seeing the state you were in.

"Why haven't you gotten ready yet? You don't look at all delighted; you know how important this dinner is tonight! We've waited twenty years for-"

"I know mother." You quickly said trying to save yourself from the lecture that would no doubt make your family late to the dinner if she rambled on.

You met her strict gaze in the mirror and mumbled an apology as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Her face softened as she walked over to you; her hands finding their way to your shoulders.

"Please try to understand this will make both our families stronger. You were practically raised as a Zoldyck, but we need it to be official." Your mother said as you looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"I grew and trained with Milluki," You said as you shrugged her hands off your shoulders. "Shouldn't I be marrying him instead? I know nothing about Illumi."

You watched in the reflection the way your mother rolled her eyes clearly displeased with your response.

"You are well aware of our agreement that the eldest daughter goes to the eldest Zoldyck son. Honestly darling you act as if this is the end of the world? Your father and I knew nothing about one another and we turned out just fine. Now please get ready, we wouldn't want to keep your husband to be waiting anymore than he already has!" She exclaimed as she made her way out of the bathroom.

You knew that your parents had an arranged marriage like their parents before them. You've lost count of the times your mother would tell you stories about how your father wasn't who she chose to marry but that didn't mean that he didn't eventually become the love of her life. They built an entire life together which lead to the successful artillery business they ran and you. You knew the ties your family had with the Zoldyck's had been strictly business but now that you were of age it meant that bond would be taken from business to family. No matter what your parents told you this was nothing but another business deal to you.

You hadn't always dreaded being married to the oldest of the famous assassins. In fact you recall on several occasions Milluki teasing you for getting lost in thought and scribbling Illumi's name over and over again when you should've been studying up on jobs you'd taken on. However, despite training day and night with Milluki for years you had only laid your eyes on Illumi twice. You were around nine years old when you saw him for the first time. You and Milluki were were practicing ren when Illumi came home from a successful training mission at Heaven's Arena.

You couldn't take your eyes off the way he moved so effortlessly; you punched Milluki for teasing you for staring at his brother for longer than needed. The second time you finally came face to face with Illumi at the age of thirteen. You had learned you were a transmitter with your speciality being in poisons. Although you had successful learned how to use nen Silva knew you had a long way to go before you'd be able to use it flawlessly. He wanted to teach you the important lesson on when to back down from an opponent where success wasn't guaranteed.

You knew Illumi was stronger than you and Milluki combined but you refused to let him believe you were weak. After all you had been training day and night with all the toxins you could get your hands on. You cringed at the memory of Illumi looking down at your defeated body, you groaned as you held onto your side only to look up to meet his emotionless eyes.

"This is all you've been able to accomplish? You are the weakest out of us all. You won't be much use to me when we marry. Train harder or I'll kill you." He said flatly as you watched him turn to walk away not missing the way your heart skipped a beat.

You made a promise to yourself then to get stronger even though you didn't have much of a choice. Not only would you be a disgrace to your family but you'd pay for it with your life. Now at the age of twenty it had been seven years since you had seen Illumi and you dreaded it. You didn't trust your mind or your body around him; all logically thinking out the window when he was near. Although you'd gotten stronger and the training you completed with Mulluki had paid off part of you felt you'd never be enough for Illumi.

Not smart enough.

Not strong enough.

Not pretty enough.

You rolled your eyes knowing you were stalling at this point because this engagement was going to happen whether you liked it or not. And with that you started to get ready for the dinner with your future husband and family in law. Once you showered you wrapped a towel around yourself, walking back to your mirror to quickly do your makeup and hair. You carefully put on your black octavia dress, making sure not to ruin your work. You opened the box your mother had left behind and ran your fingertips over the smooth texture of the pearls. You removed the necklace and put it on yourself. The cool pearls making contact with your warm skin caused you to shiver.

Here goes nothing.

The flight to Kukuroo Mountain was about an hour long; you stared out the window as your parent's reminded you to be on your best behavior as if you were a child. You knew what the Zoldyck's expected of you so you chose to nod every once in a while as if you are paying attention, to give your parents the peace of mind. Before you knew it you had arrived to the testing gate and passed through it with ease. You reached your hand out to pet Mike as he bent down to receive your affection. You and your parents made your way up to the butlers quarters where they escorted you to the Zoldyck mansion. The memories seemed to flood back once you set foot inside. From all the times you ran up and down the halls playing hide and seek with Killua to nagging Milluki to get out of his room for once and train with you. You couldn't help but genuinely smile as you passed by the many portraits of the Zolydck family on the way to the banquet hall. Your parents pointing out the few paintings you were in when you were younger, voicing their joy about how tonight would officially make you apart of the family. As tradition you were seated at the end of the elegant dinning table; you ran your fingertips over the fine wood as you looked to see those around you. Your parents sat to the left of you while the Zoldyck's sat at the right. You sheepishly waved at Milluki who scoffed at you and looked else where. You couldn't help but pout at your childhood friend. Silvia took notice and leaned closer to you.

"He envy's Illumi." He said.

You paused for a moment then looked back at Milluki with wide eyes. Jealous of Illumi? For being engaged to you? You shook your head at the thought of the hidden feelings Milluki had for you.

"He shouldn't." You mumble as you look over to the empty seat next to you.

"Of all the day's to be late!" Kikyo hissed.

The butlers began bringing out courses of the meal out. You were able to start eating when you felt a presence causing you to look to your left towards a door leading into the banquet hall. That's when you saw him. You felt yourself exhale a shaky breath as he made his way over to you. His hair was much longer than the last time you had seen him, he'd gotten taller, and more toned. Yet his dark eyes remained the same and they watched you just as closely.

"Y/n." Illumi spoke as he took his place next to you.

You were at a lost for words as Kikyo chimed in.

"You're late! You left your bride to be waiting!" She exclaimed only to cause Silva to raise his hand to calm his wife down.

Silvia suddenly rose from his seat and cleared his throat. He had prepared a speech about the agreement of a proposal to the two oldest of each family. Illumi stood at one point as his father continued on; he grabbed your hand which caught you off guard. You felt Illumi's cold fingertips slowly slide a sliver band on to your ring finger. You gazed up at Illumi as he held on to your hand a little longer before letting go and returning to his seat. You were going to officially be a Zoldyck. The rest of the evening was filled with your parents talking with the Zoldyck's about planning the wedding and future business deals. But once your mother uttered the word grandchild you couldn't help but start choking on the glass of water you had been drinking. Everyone turned their gaze to you as you coughed; Illumi wrapped his arms around you and helped you stand.

"Excuse us." He said as you both walked out of the banquet hall.

You managed to calm yourself down once you were away from the judgmental stare your parents were giving you.

"I'm fine Illumi," You said as you realized you were still walking so closely to one another. "Really I am. We can go back." You said as you broke out of Illumi’s grasp.

"Would you not like to take a walk with me?" He suddenly said.

"Sure." You finally said after hesitating for a moment.

You walked in silence down the hall and out a door that led you into the courtyard. You took a deep breath of fresh air and slowly exhaled. You looked up at the night sky that glistened with millions of stars. You both stayed silent as the creatures of dusk seemed to come to life; chirping and croaking around you.

"May I ask you something?" Illumi finally said.

"Of course." You said.

"Are you uncomfortable around me?" He asked which made you look over at him.

"Well," You hesitated as you started to fiddle with your ring. "It's been seven years since the last time I saw you Illumi. We haven't spoke much these past few years and you just slide a ring on my finger just an hour ago signifying that we are to be married."

He looked over at you and cocked his head to the side.

"It isn't a surprise to you is it? We've been arranged to get married since you were born." He said plainly as if he were talking about the weather or what he had for breakfast.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that it all happened so fast," You bite your lip knowing you couldn't hold back what you had been wanting to say since you saw him this evening "It's nice to see you again Illumi."

He hummed and stepped closer to you; his fingertips brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

"You've grown up." He said, rubbing his hand lightly against your cheek. "You're quite beautiful and not nearly as annoying as you used to be."

You groaned and pushed his hand away from you as if he was nuisance yet your face heating up said otherwise.

"Way to ruin the moment." You huffed out.

"I can tell you've gotten stronger as well." He said and you nodded your head.

"I've been training hard. There's no shortage of poisonous plants to learn from." You said.

Silence fell between you again yet this time it wasn't uncomfortable. You felt yourself relax as the tension slowly slip away.

"You're more sure of yourself now." He said abruptly.

You paused to think back to all the long training sessions you endured, the painful limits you pushed your body to, and the long nights you'd longed to see Illumi and prove to him that you weren't the weakest.

"I just want to be a good wife for you." You said. "This may be an arranged marriage but I hope along the way you can see me as more than a business deal."

You watch as Illumi picked up your left hand and place a soft kiss onto the silver ring he had placed on your hand earlier. His warm lips were a significant contrast to his cold fingers that held onto your hand. You let go of a breath you didn't even know you were holding watching how gentle he was being with you.

"I've waited for so long to see this ring on your finger. You'll make a fine wife." Illumi said softly.

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It had been a month since the engagement became official and you felt like it was all just a fever dream. You hadn't seen Illumi since the night of the dinner and you couldn't help that sinking feeling that had followed you for so many years; was he distancing himself from you again? You couldn't even get your mind off things because the mother's on both sides insisted that the wedding happen immediately. Which also meant your mother forbidding you for taking on any jobs to help with planning; the lack of work and his absence caused your mind to stir. You were in your old room at the Zoldyck mansion, gazing at your reflection as a few maids fixed the long train of the dress your mother surprised you with. You nervously played with the ring on your finger as your eyes traveled to the intricate pattern in the lace, there was something so familiar about the dress but you couldn't exactly pin point what. Your eyes traveled to the tall window that was in the corner of the room where your mother and Kikyo sat at a small table drinking tea. The same table you sat at countless nights looking out into the courtyard yearning for Illumi to come home to you. The maids stepped to the side as you turned to face them, you placing your arms behind your back. You watched as your mother's eyes watered as she stood from her chair and made her way to you.

"What do you think my dear?" Kikyo smiling before taking a sip of her tea.

"It's beautiful." You say as you brought your hands to your sides to run your fingertips over the fabric.

"This use to be my dress,' Your mother said as she grabbed hold of your hands. "And it fits you wonderfully!"

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror once again feeling like a fool for not recognize the dress immediately. Your mother had shown you endless photos of her wedding day and the dress was the focal point of every photo.

"This means so much to me. Thank you mother." You said and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.

"I have a gift for you too my dear." Kikyo said as she made her way over to you.

You turned to see her holding a beautiful silver necklace with a small blue gem dangling from the center. You leaned down as Kikyo placed it around your neck.

"I wore this on my wedding day. A good luck charge from your mother and I." She said as she stood back with your mother to admire you.

You ran your finger tips over the necklace and smiled.

"This is perfect. Thank you both." You said.

The next few hours were spent sitting at the table listening to the two women bicker on who to invite to the wedding of the century they called it. You rolled your eyes and looked over to your door as you watched Milluki walk down the hall looking down at his phone. You excused yourself from the table which was useless because they were both stuck in their own world of wedding planning. You quickly made your way out of the room and chased after Milluki down the hall.

"Hey Luki wait up!" You shouted after him which only caused him to turn around quickly. The irritated look you knew all too well.

"I said stop calling me that stupid nickname." He sneered as he looked down at his phone once again.

You couldn't help but giggle as you followed him into his room. You leaned against the doorway as you watched him walk over to his desk; your eyes widening at the amount of computers that were turned on, each with something different flashing on each screen.

"So what have you been up to?" You ask as you walked over as you looked over at his figurine collection.

"Killua is asking for a favor," He grumbled as he looked up to one of his monitors. "He needs a copy of Greed Island."

"The rare video game?" You questioned as you looked over his shoulder to the screen which caused him to chuckle.

"Papa always said you were too smart for your own good." He said as he looked over his shoulder.

"Smarter than you for sure." You teased.

"Shut up!' He yelled as he turned back to his computer typing away vigorously.

The only thing that filled the room was Milluki's fingertips against his keyboard as he looked into getting more information on the legendary Greed Island for his younger brother. You had wondered what Killua had been up to since leaving to go take the hunter exam; you hadn't been around when he lashed out Milluki and Kiyko but you couldn't help the chuckle you let out when you found out. Being under the same pressure from your families it was inevitable for you and Killua to become close.

"You don't seem too thrilled to be getting married." Milluki suddenly said bringing you out of your thoughts.

"What makes you say that?" You say flatly.

"Your eyes don't light up the same way they use to when anyone mentioned Illumi." He replied, looking between two monitors.

"It's just a lot to take in," You sigh out. "I went from being a kid learning how to become an assassin like the Zoldyck's to becoming an actually Zoldyck by marriage.   It's hard being in love with someone sees this as nothing more than a business deal"

Milluki stopped typing to turn to face you again; that irritated looking back in his face.

"You really are stupid aren't you? He may have never said it when you were around but he's made several remarks about you to me. It sickening how he only seems to care about his jobs and you." He turned his chair completely around.

You couldn't help but laugh at the confession, searching in his eyes for the truth. Your smile faded as he stared right back at you and you knew that look all too well.

"Now get out cause I have work to do." He said as he turned back to his work and dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

You hesitated only for a moment then walked out of his room; you turned and looked to see Milluki talking on his phone to Killua if you had to guess.

"Thank you Luki." You whisper to yourself and with that you took your leave.

Before you knew it the evening turned into night fall and Kikyo was pleading for you to stay, trying to reassure you that Illumi would be back soon. You agreed thinking back to what Milluki had said earlier. After saying your goodbyes to your mother you returned to your room to find the maids making your bed and bringing a few of your belongings you had left here when you traveled between your home and the Zoldyck's. You thanked the maids as they bowed and left the room. You let out a long sigh as you threw yourself onto the bed as you listened to the clock on the wall tick away the minutes wondering when Illumi would be home; your hand brushed over the fabric of your t-shirt around your stomach as the butterflies seemed to dance around gleefully. Here you were again waiting and yearning for Illumi; aching for his gaze, his touch, and his words to overwhelming your senses. You sat up quickly at the idea of a game; a game that you dominated when you played with Milluki. Assassin 101: tracking and locating your target. If Illumi wanted you as much as Milluki said he did then prove it. Game on.

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You sighed, rubbing the soreness out of you neck, and clocked out for the day. It had been a year since you left everything behind to test Illumi; what better way to prove his worth than a game of hide and seek. If he successfully found you then Milluki was right and you'd happily go through with the wedding, if he didn't seek you out then you had a fresh start to live your life free of the expectations of everyone. You had gotten an office job which was quite an adjustment from what you had been trained to do originally. However, doing work as an assassin didn't require long hours behind a desk staring at a monitor.

You lost count of how many times you had to stay overtime to finish a team project. It was finally Friday which meant your coworkers attempting to get you to go out to a local bar but you yet again declined their invite and opted for a another night in with dinner from the convenient store. Your heels clicked against the concrete, a breeze hit your skin causing you to shiver. You walked faster, holding onto your paper bag tightly and cursing yourself for forgetting your sweater back at the office. Luckily the convince store wasn't a far walk from the apartment.

Going into hiding meant getting a new identity and with a new life meant new struggles; applying for jobs and apartments with no credit or job history under the new identity proved to be a challenge but you came out victorious in the end. You walked up the flight of steps to your apartment; you smiled and greeted your elderly neighbor as you put your keys in the lock. You promised to go visit her soon to keep her company while she ate dinner and watched her weekly tv drama. You walked in as you told her goodnight, closing the door behind you with your foot, and reached over to turn on the lamp that sat on a side table. You tossed your keys along with your heels haphazardly on the table and floor.

You walked through your small living room that connected to your kitchen. You set your bag on the counter and putting your food to the side. You suddenly froze in place as an uneasy feeling came over you; you could recognize that blood lust from anywhere. You slowly turned to Illumi standing in your living room playing with one of his many nen needles in his hand. His lips slowly curved into a smile that you had never seen grace his face before.

"So this is where you've been hiding all this time," He said as he started to walk over to where you were. "I'll give you credit this is just inconspicuous enough to make it hard to track you. Not to mention using zetsu to conceal your presence." He chuckled to himself.

You braced yourself against the counter as he stood in front of you. He grabbed your face with one hand as he lightly pressed his needle against your throat with the other.

"You actually found me?" You asked dumbfounded which only made him scoff. He actually came looking for you, and you welcomed the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach.

"Do you know how many people I had to kill just to see you again?" He asked as he leaned in close enough for your lips to graze one another's.

"It took you long enough." You breathed as you looked into his eyes.

He cocked his head to the side as if he was confused but you could tell by the rest of his body language that this little hunt excited him. He removed his nen needle from your neck and took a step back. Silence fell between you both as the tension grew. You could have sworn Illumi could hear your heart beating out of your chest from where he stood. Here he was after a year of being apart and better yet he sought you out. Without thinking you grabbed onto Illumi and crashed your lips against his. He immediately moved his hands to your hips, his grip would leave bruises no doubt but you didn't care. Without breaking the kiss he lifted you onto the counter, his hands leaving your waist for a brief moment to wondered up to your blouse; he ripped it open effortlessly as the buttons flew off hitting the counter beside you or the floor. He started to kiss his way down your jaw to your neck causing you to sigh. You felt his hands slowly move back to your waist, pushing your skirt up, as he started to place open mouth kisses on your neck. You let out a soft moan as he found your sweet spot close to your ear.

"Drove me crazy looking for you." He breathed into your ear. "Hiding what was promised to me since birth."

"Needed proof you were serious about this. About us." You softly said as your fingers found their way to his hair.

"Proof? You needed proof that you're one of the only things that's been on my mind for years," he huffed out. "You and this." He said as he pulled your damp panties to the side and easily slid two fingers into your cunt.

He moved his fingers in and out of you agonizingly slow; you hated the way he teased you.

"Please Illumi." You whimpered out as he chuckled pulling his fingers out of you.

He stepped back to look at you, eyes darkening at you disheveled form. You hair in disarray, your blouse ruined just enough to show off that lace bra, and your skirt bunched up around your hips. He watched your chest rise and fall as you pant . This was what he had chased after. This is what he wanted, no needed. This was his wife. He smirked as he turned on his heel and made his way to your couch. Your eyes followed the way he gracefully sat down and spread his legs; he lifted his hand and motioned for you to come to him. You quickly got off the counter and made your way over to him but before you could touch him he stopped you.

"Strip." He said plainly.

You kept your eyes on him as you removed everything one by one till you stood in front of him naked. You wished you were embarrassed about being completely nude with eyes looking you up and down; his eyes looking at you like you were his prey. He leaned back into the couch and you stood in between his legs. He patted his lap and you couldn't help but let your eyes wonder to his crotch. His facial expression read as if he disinterested yet his cock straining against his pants said otherwise. You climbed on top of his lap and placed your hands on his shoulders. You felt his cold hands run over your sides and down to your hips once more giving a light squeeze; he chuckled at the gasp you let out. His hands moved away from your hips briefly as his hands made quick work of freeing his aching cock. You lifted your hips as he lined himself up to your entrance. You slowly lowered yourself down onto him, both letting out a moan as he bottomed out. His large hands moved back to your hips as you started to move up and down against him. You soon found your rhythm, closing your eyes taking in the feeling of his cock; he leaned up placing soft kisses against your neck.

"Fuck Illumi I've wanted this for so long." You moaned out.

Suddenly you were flipped onto your back as his hands moved under your thighs and pushed them to your chest. Without hesitating he started to pound into your pussy with hard, deep thrust. You let out a loud moan as your eyes rolled to the back; your hands grabbing onto the fabric of the couch to steady yourself.

"This is finally mine. All mine.' Illumi huffed out as he watched the way his cock bullied your pussy. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes." You managed to moan out as you felt yourself already nearing your climax.

"Going to give me the next Zoldyck heir like the good little wife you are." He said which caused your eyes to shoot open.

You watched as he moved one of his hands against your stomach putting pressure causing both of you to moan in sync.

"You're going to make me a father aren't you?" He said and you frantically nodded your head to cock drunk to object.

"Yes Illumi, please." You begged. "Want to be your good little wife."

You felt his fingertips travel to your clit and rub harsh circles as his hips continued on his brutal pace. You threw your head back and moaned Illumi's name as you reached your climax.

"What a good girl you are." Illumi cooed as his eyes traveled to the white ring around his cock.

With a few more sloppy thrust Illumi finished inside of you as you both panted. He pulled out of you and watched his cum slowly seeping out; he ran his slender fingertips along your slit just to shove his fingers inside you to keep it all inside.

"I'm taking you back home tonight. We are to be married tomorrow. We've kept each other waiting too long." He flatly said which caused you to laugh.

"Anything for my soon to be husband." You hummed.

[momimeowv-deactivated20240930]

✧˖° SECRET SLUT !

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒, 𝐘𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖?... 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊. 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓."

( ( IN WHICH ) ↳ ) ↳ the shyest girl in school catches the attention of a friendly hockey player, choso kamo. but what happens when their hasty new relationship swivels into drunken obsessions, intimidating requests, and pure toxicity? ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚

( ( A / N ) ) ↳ this story originally comes from my wattpad, and you can also find it on my ao3. please do not reupload or plagiarize any of my content, ideas, or graphics. you will be blocked without hesitation. this story will be long, it's still in the making at 24k current words! it will, without a doubt, contain explicit sexual content. you have been warned. please be patient, and let me know your thoughts.

( CONTENT ) ↳ 18+ themes, fem!reader, college au, hockey au, explicit nsfw scenes, manipulation, stalking, drugs use, alcohol use, death, drinking, toxic relationships, swearing, loss of virginity, drug smuggling, obsessive themes.

( PAIRINGS ) ↳ hockey player choso x shy fem!reader

( CHAPTERS ) ↳

001 // SUKUNA RYOMEN.

002 // HALLOWEEN.

003 // CHERRY POPPED?

004 // AN UNEXPECTED SAVIOR.

005 // THE ART OF PLEASURE.

006 // SWEET TOUCHES.

007 // GLASSES.

008 // DADDY.

009 // DATE.

010 // JOURNALS & DRUGS.

MORE COMING SOON.

↻ + ♡ are appreciated. || 𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴

© 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐖

[borathae]

“They’ve seen the centuries come and go, watched empires rise and fall and witnessed the creation of society as it is today. And now you have fallen into their arms, showing them once again that change never stops.”

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Hurt and Comfort, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU, Polyamory!AU

Keep reading

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille Masterlist

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, paranormal themes, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

UPDATES ON THE 7TH OF EACH MONTH

In a world where hybrids are both the hottest commodity and largely exploited, a recent shortage of hybrids nationwide due to the wealthy adopting for sport hunting dominates the news headlines. More than ever, stray hybrids are whisked off the streets and taken into shelters to meet the demand. Mistreated, neglected, forgotten – in a notoriously disreputable hybrid shelter in a pocket of downtown Boston, seven “aggressive” hybrids await their inevitable fate of being sold for sport.

After years of trying to distance herself from her mystical past and upbringing, Y/N finds herself quitting her emotionally-draining job and is forced to face past mistakes. While accompanying her friends looking to adopt a child hybrid into their newly-formed family, Y/N inadvertently finds herself face-to-face with seven hybrids doomed to die. In a spur of the moment epiphany, Y/N decides to change the course of fate for the better; though bringing seven aggressive hybrids into her life and the darkening spiritual energy of her old home is trickier to navigate than she originally thought.

MAIN STORY;

Chapter One posted 2.7.23; 20.4k words

Chapter Two posted 3.7.23; 20.8k words

Chapter Three posted 3.20.23; 21.5k words

Chapter Four posted 4.7.23; 20.6k words

Chapter Five posted 5.7.23; 20.5k words

Chapter Six posted 6.7.23; 20.9k words

Chapter Seven posted 7.7.23; 22.3k words

Chapter Eight posted 8.7.23; 23.4k words

Chapter Nine posted 9.7.23; 21.8k words

DRABBLES;

"My boys" posted 9.1.23; 2.2k words

EXTRAS;

Trouvaille playlist

Mood boards - Seokjin . Yoongi . Hoseok . Namjoon . Jimin . Taehyung . Jeongguk

Trouvaille Inspirations (coming soon!)

Things readers have created for Trouvaille

Teaser to Chapter One

PREQUELS (coming soon!);

Something Kind of Fantastic Hoseok, coming soon!

Fire, Walk With Me Yoongi, coming soon!

Midnight on a Moonless Night Taehyung, coming soon!

Almost Doesn't Matter Jimin, coming soon!

Same as it Always Was Seokjin, coming soon!

You See Them... They See You Jeongguk, coming soon!

Truth Beyond Our Own Namjoon, coming soon!

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Masterlist)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who’s clearly been through some shit).

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Polyamory, groupsex, sexual and non-sexual Dom/sub undertones, heat sex, praise kink, brief humiliation, Spanking, knotting, breeding kink, emotional abuse, physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, gluttonous fluff, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, unreliable narrators. Gender dysphoria, transgender characters, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy, slowish-burn,  

W/c: 600k+  

A/n: long time no see~ this is what I’ve been working on for the last few months! I hope everyone will like it. Updates will be once a week on fridays or Saturdays at 5pm EST. This will also be cross posted on Archive of our own. The M/c won’t appear until part two! 

ADDITIONAL CONTENT: 

Read the story here on Ao3

Content moderation policy 

Extra content: Honey cake Recipe 

BILY ask archive 

official bily playlist 

Prologue: The Beta 

Summary: The pre-story is as sweet as honey and as simple as every other love story. Namjoon’s pack falls together before it falls apart. 

Part One: Sweet Regret  

Summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places. 

Part Two: The Don  

Summary: On the worst days, Yoongi is judge, jury, and executioner. But he judges you and finds you worthy of protecting (and loving too).

Part Three: The Gala 

Summary: Yoongi tries to steal you away, Geumjae takes something instead. 

Part Four: If I’ve Got You 

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice. 

Part Five: An Unlikely Enemy 

Summary: Namjoon’s pack reunites with Yoongi. With some…unexpected results.

Part Six: Stupid Instincts

Summary: it takes three visits for you to trust Jimin. 

Part Seven: Yoongi’s Worst Fear 

Summary: it’s easy to forget that your bond is still new, but luckily, the pack is there to fill the gaps. 

Part Eight: Seokjin’s Secret

Summary: Everything takes a little getting used to. Namjoon’s a little in love already.

Part Nine: Aura  

Summary: Oh Jungkookie 

Part 10: Blame Me For it

summary: you couldn’t expect everyone to love you instantly, but still- yoongi kind of hoped.

Part 11: Before I Love You 

Summary: what is love other than a particular kind of envy? Hoseok envys you in more ways than one. 

Part 12: Civil Midnight 

Summary: A love story that starts with a train ticket, an old jean jacket, and a cup of shitty coffee.

Part 13: Moving Day 

Summary: Namjoon has royally fucked up, luckily the pack has a place to go. “what if this is a bad idea hyung?” 

Part 14: Like a Sigh 

Summary: Seokjin isn’t ready to forgive namjoon just yet, luckily he has you and yoongi to turn to for some good old omegan comfort (ie: cuddling)

Part 15: The many Shades of Kim Taehyung: Celedon Green

Summary: Tae is at one moment, overcome with fear and longing, “Get out! don’t look! please! i don’t want you to see me!”

Part 16: The many Shades of Kim Taehyung: Babygirl Pink

Summary: A secret for a secret is exchanged. “You’re so pretty Tae.” 

Part 17: Just a little Nip

Summary: Things are often clearer the day after, but if anything Taehyung only feels more confused about where she stands with you.

Part 18: Mine, mine, mine

Summary: Tae’s rut hits and hits hard, luckily the pack is there to soften its blow.

Part 19: Honey bunny 

Summary: discussions about your past cause some troubling facts to come to light, but amidst the sadness- there is also love.

Part 20: No Sinners

Summary: try as you might, you just cant get the idea of those sex-toy boxes out of your head.

Part 21: No Saints 

Summary: The thing about Jimin is that he’s a little bit of a psycho

Part 22: Playing Dead 

Summary: After finding you in such a compromising position, the pack has their questions (and a few confessions)

Part 23: Heart shaped Hickey’s 

Summary: you don’t know what you expected this discussion to look like, but Jungkook dumping his sex toy collection in the middle of the nest definitly isn’t it. 

Part 24: Cynosure 

Summary: if Yoongi could comment “first” on your pussy’s yelp review, he would. (he’d also rate it 10/5 starts, because whatever he expected- it’s twice as good.)

Part 25: Just Try 

Summary: You hate hospitals.

Part 26: Mommy issues 

Summary: getting drunk with Tae is a TERRIBLE idea, but it does lead to some surprising developments.

Part 27: The Dregs of the Midnight Coffee club 

Summary: A trip to a local diner at midnight prompts you and Hoseok to confront your budding friendship.

Part 28: Collars 

Summary: Since you’re officially on the way to getting better, namjoon and Jin see no reason why they cant give you what they’ve promised; an intimate look into their sex life- with Yoongi’s supervision of course.

Part 29: Jimin’s second secret 

Summary: Like a criminal undercover~

Part 30: Bubbles 

Summary: As Jimin and Taehyung’s date grows closer and closer, you’re confronted with one fact; you have nothing to wear.

Part 31: Strawberry Soda 

Summary: Taehyung thinks that girl dates are better than regular ones, but she could just be biased because it’s a date with you.

Part 32: Shaken, Not Stirred

Summary: Courting you takes some trial and error, but Jimin is more than willing to try as many times as it takes to get it right.

Part 33: Espresso Martini 

Summary: Jimin’s instincts are a force to be reckoned with.  

Part 34: Vodka, Rum, Or Jin? 

Summary: Jimin’s a possessive little fucker and after such a direct threat he’s got a messy way of staking a claim on you… 

Part 35: Stretch Marks

Summary: Your first scene as Namjoon and Jin’s submissive doesn’t exactly go to plan… but oh, poor Yoongi.

Part 36: Big friends, Small spaces 

Summary: In many ways, Yoongi was Jin’s first pup. “okay, not to make this all about me and my meltdown still but- i’m going to feel really guilty for like a week if you don’t actually fuck each other.”

Part 37: An untitled Playlist

Summary: A collection of moments, snippets in sequence, each that brings you closer. (Or alternatively: you and Jungkook figure out the pack hierarchy, Namjoon finds an alternative means of you submitting other than sex, and Hobi starts to fall in love with you, just a little.)

Part 38: Killing Kim Taehyung 

Summary: Everything sort of falls apart, but you and Namjoon help it all fall back together.

Part 39: Eulogy

Summary: “Do you think so lowly of me that I wouldn’t love you? Is this a joke to you? Am I a joke to you Tae?” 

Part 40: Slow Drip

Summary: Coping with the fall out looks like a lot of things; bitten comments and kisses and the prettiest pink nest that you, Jungkook, and Jin can create.

Part 41: Tae’s First day

Summary: Tae’s first day living as a girl looks a lot like this: salons, red nail-polish and…booby pancakes???

Part 42: Hobi’s Treasures 

Summary: Coming out isn’t always straightforward, Tae has her fair share of mental hurdles to overcome. Caring about you becomes harder for Hoseok to ignore.

Part 43: Noodle 

Summary: “Maybe that’s just what intimacy is- the context of us in another person’s life.” 

Part 44: Slow Love 

Summary: You should have come to Jungkook about your predicament with the pack alpha sooner. He’s got solutions and a box full of sex toys. “There you go- oh my god you’re soaking the pillow- guess you really like this one a lot huh?”

Part 45: Everything Everything Everything 

Summary: Namjoon and Jin are not amused by your foray into penetration, not one bit. 

Part 46: I Bet On Losing Dogs

Summary: Jimin’s third secret is (Redacted for spoilers) 

Part 47: The Girl Kind 

Summary: A visit to Namjoon’s hospital to get tae on some gender affirming hormones (good girl juice) leads to some…surprising developments. “You can’t just say ‘addictive slick’ and expect us to be on board with it!?” 

Part 48: Down the rabbit Hole

Summary: The day after your doctor’s appointment Jin gives you your first hole check.

Part 49: Before I need you 

Summary: Hobi has a bad day, you make it better.

Part 50: You and Hobi Bury a dead body (pt 1)

Summary: [redacted for spoilers]

Part 51: Emotions On Ice 

Summary: you’ve never seen Namjoon this angry before, but you can’t say he’s not rightfully upset at You and Hobi. Not every punishment can go according to plan…

Part 52: Sweet lemonade and Sour Chocolate 

Summary: Jimin and Jungkook might not be the /best/ at giving you aftercare, but what they lack in execution they make up for in sheer determination. Sometimes, love is the best medicine.

Part 53: I’d Do worse

Summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and Jimin reach an agreement.

Part 54: Losing Wings 

Summary: You don’t want your first time taking Namjoon’s cock to be during his rut, luckily- the pack is there to make the transition easier. 

Part 55: Sugarcoated

Summary: Namjoon’s rut hits, and hits hard. Not all of it is pretty. Not all of it is sweet.

Part 56: Crescent moon

Summary: In the wake of Namjoon’s rut you and Hobi try to get yourself back on even footing, if only his co workers weren’t so…creepy towards you. 

Part 57: Plastic Teeth 

Summary: You, Hobi, and a dead body are not things that Jin wants to think about in the same sentence.

Part 58: Don’t let this darkness fool you 

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development. The each have different ideas on how to help you (Some more damaging than others.)

Part 59: Missed call.

Summary: You and Hobi need to break each other one more time before you’re ready to heal together. Hobi needs to leave.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash - Masterlist's and Prompts

Smoke, Fire and Ash, Chapters 1-50

Smoke, Fire and Ash, Chapters 51-109

Smoke, Fire and Ash Epilogue .... Coming tomorrow

Smoke, Fire and Ash - Aemond!POV Chapters

S,F&A Playlist

S,F&A When They Were Young Drabble

S,F&A Sick!Reader Drabble

S,F&A Black/Dragonstone POV

Amazing fanart drawn of SFA

[sovereignjojoz-deactivated20250]

Matrimony

Pairing: Illumi Zoldyck x reader

Summary: you miss your husband and find out he’s been thinking of a solution to remedy that.

Warnings: suggestive, minor angst?

Notes - sugar plum pookie bookie babe illumi😘

To live together in matrimony.

That is what was promised.

Matrimony itself was a subjective matter depending on the individual. The typical concept involved two spouses living with one another, engaging in domestic affairs, all normal commodities.

Yet the Zoldyck’s were never a family who valued normality.

Even now, you could hear the hollow creak of the renovated floorboards as the breeze beneath the cracks yearned to break free of the atmosphere of listlessness.

A gentle knock sounded at the door, ever so slight, you wouldn’t had noticed it had you not been brooding. Your feet ran across the cold floor as your night dress skimmed across your legs.

Immediately your hand dashed out towards the silver door handle, a sense of hope ignited in your chest.

You opened the door a centimetre as a dimly lit candle light illuminated the surrounding darkness. “Hello?”

“Good evening missus Zoldyck,” disappointment welled in your chest, of course you had been foolish in believing it might have actually been him. “I have brought the water you requested.”

“Thank you.” You drank a copious amount of the cool liquid, setting the glass back on the polished tray.

She placed the tray down just outside of the room, briefly stepping out of the room to retrieve something. “From Master Zoldyck.” A bouquet of white orchids was placed delicately into your hands. You brought it to your face and inhaled deeply, a soft smile plastering itself on your face. He never sent a card or anything of the sort, however you didn’t mind, you thought it was very illumi.

She pivoted on her heels, pausing at the door, “would you like anything else?”

“No thank you.”

She nodded and lightly closed the door. A sigh slipped past your soft lips as you crawled back onto the king sized bed, letting the splendid silky covers caress your body.

It almost felt like a hug although it lacked any of the warmth of being embraced, just a lingering sense of frigidity. For a moment, you thought of your husband and his embrace too. It was slightly frigid and he was usually cold too, however it was a sensation you could never truly forget. His return the manor was a mystery to you, you often wondered when he’d come back to you. The manor way by no means empty, far from it with all of the household staff and residents; in fact you frequently found yourself playing with his younger siblings of conversing with his father and grandfather.

But there was no company quite like your husband’s. Although his presence was quiet (and somewhat menacing) he treated you well and indulged your every need. You couldn’t deny that you missed h dearly, you were told prior to marrying Illumi of what being married to a Zoldyck entailed but that didn’t mean you couldn’t detest the lack of communication or the time that you barely had together.

But matrimony is subjective and this is how the Zoldyck’s perceive it.

You shifted in bed, turning to face the door as the handle rattled, thinking nothing of it.

Till you saw a slender silhouette silently step into the room. Reflexively, you sprung up and crossed the room, pouncing like a cat on the lithe silhouette sending you toppling downwards.

Your fall was softened by illumi who steadied the both of you by placing his hands on your hips.

“You’re back.” You cupped his face in disbelief, feeling his defined features just to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“Mhm.”

“I-“ you could hardly formulate nor properly covey how you felt, all this pent up longing which flowed within your veins burst out as you hugged him tighter. Then you kissed him abundantly: once on his forehead, twice on his cheek and thrice on his lips (or perhaps a little more than thrice).’

“I gather that-” you pecked his lips interrupting him, “you missed me.”

“Dearly.” You admitted. “It’s not the same without you.”

He hummed, letting unspoken words transpire between you.

His nimble fingers played with the sheer fluffy ends of your night gown, “I don’t like it when you leave.”

The slightest curve of his lips could be seen as you puffed out your cheeks, a pout present on your face.

“You know I cannot do anything about that, this is what marrying a Zoldyck entails.”

You caressed just silky smooth hair between your fingers, “I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it…” you grumbled, “I haven’t seen you for two months.”

“Yes. It seems like it’s been a while.”

You squished his cheeks together and mockingly glared at him, hoping your falsified anger would bring out some kind of a reaction; knowing he was teasing you. “That’s an understatement., Lumi”

He surprises you by abruptly standing up, lifting you into his arms and holding you close.

“Illu-?”

“-then we shall have to find a solution for that.” He told you, throwing you onto the bed as he shed his garments then moved till he was hovering above you.

You give him your full attention as curiosity overcomes you. “What are you suggesting.”

Obsidian eyes roam over every crevice of your face as he stared at you with unprecedented earnestness.

He picked your hand up gingerly.

“Perhaps it is time we have an offspring.” He went silent, partially to see your reaction however he was also thinking upon what a baby comprised of both your features would look like. He had found himself thinking about this topic quite often these days, about a baby girl with your beautiful eyes and his luscious hair. That would be nice wouldn’t it?

“Mmm.”

He pressed a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Shall I make you a mother then? That way you won’t always be by your lonesome, what do you say?”