#//honestly Despair and regret go hand in hand for both of them I fear

[freewillds]

🌻🌾 from the Flower Rook asks!

ROOK ASK GAME

🌻 How old is your Rook? How do they feel about celebrating their birthday? What gift has meant the most to them?

Aridhel's roughly 20-21 during the events of Veilguard, having been born at the end of the Fifth Blight. They always loved their birthdays as a kid when their parents were around, Dinlaselan especially would always go all out in celebrating because they were afforded more freedoms as Wardens in Amaranthine then she had as a child in Denerim.

Their favourite gift is a tie between the first ever bow their dad gave them, now long passed on to someone more suited to its smaller size, and Fang, passed on from their Mom, not knowing at the time it would be the last they'd ever get. (They have it with them for the Ritual and I like to think it jumpscares Solas just a little bit.)

Jehanne is about 26-27 during Veilguard, having been about 16 when she was rescued from Halamshiral before the events of Inquisition.

Birthdays were a touchy subject during her time in the Circle and mostly celebrated alone but they've only gotten better and better since being recruited by Bambi and making a life for herself in Arlathan.

Excluding her freedom, her most precious gift is hands down her son, even if its absolutely Terrifying at the same time to have his life in her hands. She wants to give him the best life she possibly can, to give him the opportunities and childhood she never had.

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

Darkspawn fear them, Despair demons want them carnally. Aridhel has so much pent up grief and guilt, they could feed an army of them. There's a reason their parents show up in the regret prison to haunt them and it's not just because they missed them. But it's knowing that they're loved, and cared for, that their parents would've sooner burned the whole world down around them then let anything happen that breaks them out of it.

Jehanne's getting slammed with that Despair / Rage combo because she's just so fucking exhausted over her childhood being stolen from her, constantly having to live on stolen land and being told to be grateful because at least she's not dead or Dalish, right? She watches Elves get slaughtered for wanting a better life and it being too inconvenient for anyone in charge, because their Empress didn't want to be seen as an 'Elf lover'. But she has this stupid, foolish hope in her heart that things Can change, that Someone will step in and make things right, that keeps her going.

[takahero]

some descriptions of Basta in Inkheart if you’re interested!! spoiler warning just to be on the safe side, in case u haven’t read it. and my unsolicited commentary here and there

“‘Naturally I recognised them at once. Capricorn had sent his best men. Even Basta was with them.’” — pg.99

“Rasping cat’s-tongue voice” pg.125

“(Basta’s face) was thin, sharply angular, with close-set eyes…Basta was not a tall man, and his shoulders were almost as narrow as a boy’s, but Meggie held her breath when he took a step towards her…He had an aura of fury about him, or something keen and biting—” pg.126

“Only Basta wore a snow-white shirt, just as Dustfinger had said, with a red flower in the buttonhole of his jacket, a red flower like a warning.” pg.131

“He caught her eye, and with a twisted smile kissed the blade of his knife.” — pg.173 (I JUST HAD TO ADD THIS)

“‘Oh, Basta can’t write,’ replied Capricorn calmly. ‘None of my men can either read or write. I’ve forbidden them to learn.’” — pg.176 (literacy rights for Basta 2k21)

“She could see the trepidation even on Basta’s face, although he was doing his best to hide it by assuming a particularly bored expression.” — pg.185

“‘Abduction!’ Basta savoured the word. ‘Sounds good to me. Really good.’” — pg.192 (ok but if u read it a certain way. unofficial evidence that basta would enjoy reading if he could LMAO)

“‘Where’s our luggage?’ she asked.

“Dustfinger looked at her with amusement. ‘I expect Basta’s divided it out among Capricorn’s maids. He likes to ingratiate himself with them.’” — pg.213 LMAOOOOOOO OH MY GOD

“Basta was still standing in the road. His face was sharply outlined when he lit a cigarette with a lighter.” — pg.215

“And he bent down to cut through the leather thong that Basta wore around his neck. It had a little bag tied with a red drawstring hanging from it.” — pg. 231

“‘Ah, Basta!’ Fenoglio smiled. Each of his separate wrinkles expressed self-satisfaction. ‘One of the best villains I ever thought up. A rabid dog, but not half as bad as my other dark hero, Capricorn. Basta would let his heart be torn out for Capricorn, but his master is a stranger to such loyalty.’” — pg.264

“‘You know, if you were to ask me which of those two I was prouder of, Basta or Capricorn, I couldn’t tell you! Even though some critics said they were just too nasty!’” — pg.265

“Basta emphasised the word, putting his foxy face so close to Meggie’s she could see herself reflected in his eyes.” — pg.301

“‘You’ll do no such thing!’ he spat at Flatnose, as the grey cat disappeared under the wardrobe. ‘Killing cats is unlucky. How often do I have to tell you?’” — pg.303 (friendly reminder that the last time he appeared, he kicked a dog in the ribs 😐)

“Basta was walking just behind her, and she heard him quietly cursing the rain.” — pg.304 (irrelevant but i kind of hc basta to like the rain, since it would dampen dustfinger’s showbiz LMAO)

“Basta’s eyes always narrowed when he smiled.” — pg.305

“‘You wear long sleeves,’ Fenoglio continued very slowly, as if giving Basta time to take in every single word, ‘because your master likes playing with fire. You burned both arms right up to the shoulders when you obeyed his orders and set fire to the house of a man who had dared to refuse his daughter to Capricorn. Ever since then, someone else has laid the fire, and you confine yourself to playing games with knives.’” — pg.308

“‘Oh, I know all about you, Basta,’ he said. ‘I know you’d give your life for Capricorn any day, and you’re always hungry for his praise. I know you were younger than Meggie when his men picked you up, and ever since you’ve loved him like a father. But shall I tell you something? Capricorn thinks you’re stupid, and despises you for it. He despises you all, his devoted black-clad sons, although it’s his own doing that you’re still so ignorant. And he wouldn’t hesitate to set the police on to any one of you if it was to his advantage. Are you quite clear about that?’” — pg.308 (FENOGLIO…..RUTHLESS)

“Basta winked at Meggie.” — pg.310 (wink 1)

“Every cruel deed with which he had ever credited Basta was probably going through his head. Basta relished the fear on his face for a few delicious minutes.” — pg.312

“Basta’s car had not been in the car park at all since they’d come here. It was unusual for it to be gone so long, because Basta didn’t like to be away from the village for any length of time.” — pg.318 basta is a homebody guys

“‘Save your tongue for later, scribbler!” Basta interrupted. ‘I don’t like whispering.’” — pg.324

“Almost all the women in the village kept away from Basta, but he didn’t keep away from them.” — pg.337

“‘Take him, for instance,’ he said, pointing to Basta. ‘I always knew he was a very unhappy boy before you picked him up. As it says in another very fine book, it’s terribly easy to persuade children that they are worthless. Basta was convinced of it. Not that you taught him any better, oh no! Why would you? But suddenly here was someone to whom he could devote himself, someone who told him what to do — he’d found a god, Capricorn, and if you treated him badly, well, who says that all gods are kindly? Most of them are stern and cruel, wouldn’t you agree? I didn’t write all this in the book. I knew it, that was enough.’” — pg.345 (this is really the part that made my stance toward basta change. like PHEW. that’s a lot to unpack)

“Basta was notorious for his silent tread.” — pg.363

“Basta’s breath smelled of mint, fresh and sharp. Apparently a girl he’d once wanted to kiss had told him he had bad breath. The girl had regretted it, but ever since then Basta chewed peppermint leaves from morning to night.” — pg.364

“He whistled softly through his teeth, then held the book close to Meggie’s face.”— pg.374 (i was rendered speechless)

“Basta’s lips quivered with annoyance, but he bit back his reply and, without a word, put his hand under the black cloth.” — pg.377 (ugh I loved this. like we know he worships capricorn like a dog, but earlier fenoglio flat out told him capricorn couldn’t care less about what happened to him. more than that, capricorn asked basta to bring meggie and fenoglio — prisoners — into his home. later dustfinger says that basta would’ve slept on the threshold of capricorn’s room if he could but none of the men sleep there. so with all of this fresh in his mind, you can imagine him feeling quite hurt and betrayed. UGH I wish he had a greater arc surrounding capricorn…like even if we saw a few hints that his loyalty was starting to show cracks…idk what his arc is in inkspell so maybe I’ll sit tight for that)

“He was in a hurry to get back to the light of day, away from the dead and their ghosts. His hand shook as he hung his lantern on a book and opened the grating over the first cell.” — pg.409

“Dustfinger was always surprised to find how easily you could scare the man with a few words.” — pg.409 LMAOOOOO

“‘That notion of burning us isn’t a very new idea, Basta, but then you were never fond of new ideas.’” — pg.422

“His teeth were almost as white as his shirt.” — pg.442

“Meggie saw from his face that everything in him felt revulsion, but he came closer and took the creature. He held the scaly body well away from him as it wound and twisted in the air.

“‘As you see, Basta doesn’t care for my snakes!’ said the Magpie, with a smile. ‘He never did, not that that means much. As far as I know Basta doesn’t like anything but his knife. He also believed that snakes bring bad luck, which of course is pure nonsense.’ Mortola handed Basta the second snake. Meggie saw the viper’s tiny poison fangs when it opened its mouth. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for Basta.” — pg.446

“‘Basta likes to use snakes to scare women who reject his advances. It didn’t work with Resa. How did it go exactly — didn’t she finally put the snake outside your door, Basta?’” — pg.446 (10/10 resa & snake well-deserved)

“Basta did not want neighbours. Indeed, he wanted no other company but Capricorn’s. Dustfinger knew Basta would have slept on the threshold of Capricorn’s room if he had been allowed to, but none of the men lived in the main house.” — pg.478

“Basta was probably the only man in Capricorn’s village who locked his front door.” — pg.480

“They said in the village that whenever Capricorn had a house set on fire Basta took away a brick or stone, even though he feared fire at other times, and clearly that story was true.” — pg.480

“(Everything in Basta’s house was scrubbed clean, as spotless as his snow-white shirt.)” — pg.481

“Once or twice, footsteps approached, but each time they passed by the house. What a good thing Basta had no friends.” — pg.482

“Basta was not in a good way. Whenever they looked at him they saw his hands clinging to the bars, knuckles white under his sun-tanned skin.” — pg.503 (BASTA’S SUNTANNED?!?!)

“Basta in particular was the object of enough scorn and derision for ten men, and from his failure to react at all one could only guess at the depths of his despair.” — pg.503

“For the fraction of a second life came back into Basta as his former lord and master stopped by the bars; he raised his head, his eyes pleading silently, like a dog begging for forgiveness…Basta only bowed his head and stared at the floor. Elinor thought he looked like an oyster with the flesh and life sucked out of it.” — pg.504 (i honestly still can’t wrap my head around his behaviour in this chap. i mean yes, the gladiator-style death sentence looming over his head can’t be understated. but i think for me it was how rapidly his spirits deteriorated from screaming for help in the cell to becoming a husk of a man before he even saw capricorn again? how?? was it all because of dustfinger spooking him so bad in the crypt?? 🤔🤔)

[captaindamianos]

Artist asks 🥰 Could you answer 3, 17, 21 and 24 for me?? Or just any of these you feel like answering ❤️

THANK YOU SWEETIE 🥰 God, this is going to be interesting. 😂

(Also really sorry for the delay with the answer, a lot of things got in the way unfortunately.)

3. Least favourite things to draw?

Groups of people (everything above 3), children (they're hard to draw 😭), pictures with a lot of details (I love them, and god do I wish I had the patience, but like one third of the way through them I'm ready to throw hands). If you ever see me do something detailed or with a more extensive background, I probably cried and despaired a lot along the way. So yeah, backgrounds sometimes, when the background wasn't there to begin with and supposed to aid the picture somehow.

17. What inspires you?

Nature, landscapes, art in general, visiting museums, getting out of the rutt and going literally anywhere, seeing anything I don’t see daily. Sometimes people’s fanfictions or stories are really inspiring, I’ve also been inspired by music. Movies and tv shows as well, but it can also be the most random thing. Last year I saw patches of flowers next to fields in Denmark while driving through. And I still have this really vivid picture in my head because of it that i definitely want to still put on paper.

21. Weirdest thing you've ever drawn?

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever drawn anything too weird? If you don’t count having no real concept of dimensional drawing or how anatomy actually works. I’m so easily embarrassed by what I’m drawing, that I’m too scared to draw and share anything embarrasing/weird. 

Though now that I’m thinking about it, it might be this. I’m full of regret both in regards of how much time I spent on it and how it turned out, also that it was for probably one of my favourite fics in this fandom and it’s just not good. 

24. How do you deal with artblock?

Usually artblock deals with me. 🥲 Seriously though, I think in the past I wasn't good dealing with it and wouldn't draw for weeks, months or years sometimes, which wasn't helpful because I never really developed a good workflow to fall back on.

I think I've managed to let go of some of the fear of failure when it comes to drawing itself now, that always held me back. Even when I'm not in the mood for it, I sit myself down and draw anyway. If I have no idea I look for a reference and just do gesture drawinga/studies. Just to keep myself in the process of drawing at least once or twice a week. I haven't dealt with major artblock in the past year. I get frustrated occasionally when nothing looks right, but I just try to push myself through it. Not everything you make has to be a masterpiece anyway. Sometimes it's just about doing the thing.

[bordeleaubeau]

idk you yet - luke hughes (part one)

wc: 2830

warnings: probably a few curses, i honestly can’t really remember:)

inspired by idk you yet by alexander 23.

---

how can you miss someone you’ve never met?

the words forming on luke’s arm startle him at first. there’s a tingling tickle-like feeling as each letter appears, but luke can barely believe his eyes. he was just about to turn seventeen and until that moment he had no sign of his soulmate whatsoever. but now? now he had proof on his arm that his soulmate was out there somewhere. that meant the boys could finally stop teasing him in the locker room about possibly not having a soulmate. 

it felt like everyone around luke knew their soulmate was out there. it was such a rare possibility that someone didn’t have a soulmate - if their soulmate passed away, chances are they would too due to the pain from the loss. and, well, luke hadn’t died yet, so that was his only hope of his soulmate being out there.

the initial shock is soon replaced by pure adrenaline. luke can barely pay attention to what ever mrs. clemmens is writing on the board; all he can focus on is writing back to his soulmate. whoever she might be. 

i don’t know you yet, but i need you. do you know how long i’ve waited to hear from you?

you’re smiling down at your arm - it was always a game whenever you’d finally be able to contact your soulmate. some were able to as soon as their fifteenth birthday, some couldn’t until their eighteenth. and well, if you hadn’t contacted them by then, there was some bad news to be delivered. but it was all a waiting game. the day you were able to contact them was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but there was only one catch: your soulmate could be thousands of miles from you.

and what about me with you?

“mr. hughes!” 

luke’s attention snaps to the front of the classroom, where the middle aged woman now has her hands on her hips staring at one of her best pupils. luke’s eyes are wide, the color draining from his face as each head of his classmates turn to look at him.

“care to share what’s gotten you so smiley, luke? or will you pay attention to my lesson for at least three seconds?” luke sputters for a few seconds, causing the woman’s eyebrows to spike up in question. “out with it.”

“i’ll, i’ll pay attention, mrs. clemmens.” the brunette finally manages to get out, sinking back in his seat. the color returns to his face, but this time it’s the same shade of red as the apple on mrs. clemmen’s desk. he didn’t want to leave her hanging, but he wasn’t going to risk getting in trouble again. he wasn’t going to out himself for finally finding his soulmate - and being one of the last in his grade to do so.

luke feels his phone vibrate in his sweatshirt pocket, and upon just the right moment he pulls his phone out to see tyler had messaged him.

tyler b: were you finally able to talk to her? 

luke isn’t able to respond to tyler in fear that mrs. clemmens will have a few words for him, and surely enough he didn’t need to get into any more trouble with one of his teachers. one more write up and he was going to be benched for an entire month. so against his better judgement, he sticks his hands in his pockets and pays attention to the lesson going on. all while trying to ignore the tickle feeling on his hand.

“i can’t believe you were finally able to talk to him!” mal gushes, her eyes glued to your arm that had a mix of jet black and purple ink scrawled on it. there was game @7 written on your hand in purple ink, along with a star next to it. “how do you think tyler is going to react?” 

your heart nearly drops in your chest. tyler. your boyfriend - of almost a year, in fact. in the midst of it all you seemed to of forgotten about him, your mind elsewhere, and it was on your soulmate. your soulmate that wasn’t him. 

“i have to tell him, don’t i?” you look up at your best friend, eyes glossier than they had been seconds before. “mal, i dunno, i dunno if i can do that. tyler is- he’s so sweet. he’s gonna be crushed.”

“who’s gonna be crushed?” 

speak of the devil. 

tyler drops his bag on the floor, sitting down in the seat next to you like he always did in english class. mal notices the slight tension, turning back to face forward in her seat as she waits for class to begin. you take a quick breath, turning to your boyfriend, you grasp both of his hands in yours. “ty, i have to tell you something.”

tyler’s eyes glance down to your wrist, and only the slightest bit is showing from the sleeves of your sweater riding up, but he sees it. the black ink. “anything, y/n.” he clears his throat, pretending like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

“you’re not my soulmate.”

“i know.”

your eyes widen ever so slightly, and you watch as tyler slides up the sleeve of his hoodie. there are a few little sentences scrawled on his skin, ones that were clearly not on yours. you can’t quite find the words to say. your mouth opens and closes a few times before finally, you’re stumped, and you sit back in your seat with your eyebrows furrowed. you let go of his hands, your own falling into your lap. 

“how long?” you finally manage to muster out, meeting his regretful eyes. he had reassured you multiple times that he hadn’t heard from his soulmate yet, but you should’ve gone against your better judgement when he was suddenly wearing long sleeves all the time. and it wasn't just for the winter, you now realized. 

“about, about three months.” he notices the look on your face, and just like moments before he takes your hands in his. “y/n, just because you aren’t my soulmate doesn’t mean i never loved you. i still do love you. i just-”

“it’s okay, i get it.” you cut him off, pulling your hands away from his. “it’s okay, ty. i just wish you would have told me sooner, that’s all.” your voice trails off to a whisper. tyler grabs your hand once more, and he presses a kiss to the back of it. 

“friends?” he asks, and when you nod your head, he presses another kiss to your skin before releasing his hold on your hand. you have to swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat. of course you were upset - you had every reason to be. but you weren’t expecting to be this upset, and you also weren’t expecting tyler to say he already knew the two of you weren’t soulmates.

the english period seems to drag on and on, and after what feels like two hours the bell rings. “walk with me to lunch?” you hear the brunette next to you speak, and you find yourself nodding. “y/n/n, please, talk to me. i hate when you’re mad a me.”

“i’m not mad at you, ty. i promise you that. i just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” tyler gives you a tight lipped smile, and before the two of you can start to walk to the cafeteria, tyler pulls his hoodie off, revealing his inked arm. it’s a pang to the heart, but you know that you’ll get over it eventually. “what’s she like?” you ask quietly, the two of you starting the few minute trek across the school.

“she’s, she’s really nice. she’s pretty, too. i follow her on instagram, actually. her name is gabby.” tyler glances over at you a few times as he speaks, and you can only find yourself to be nodding along to his words. “i know she’s my soulmate and all, y/n, but she isn’t you.”

you stop in your tracks, causing tyler to turn around to look at you. “don’t. don’t say that. she’s your soulmate, and i’m not, for a reason, tyler boucher. don’t say that about her. i’m sure she’s lovely, and she’s everything that i can’t be for you.”

“i’m sorry i just-” tyler cuts himself off with a sigh, going to reach for your hand but he stops halfway. “i wanted it to be you. i thought it was you. and then one day, i had writing on my wrist, and i looked at yours and it wasn’t there. i know that’s supposed to be one of the happiest days of our life, but it was one of the worst for me. because i wanted it to be you, y/n. so bad.”

to say the least, the two of you were pretty much the ‘it’ couple. your entire friend group adored you both, and you were the first girl that the boys allowed over when they all hung out - but only occasionally. it was never an all the time thing, which you understood. but still, you and tyler had been through a lot together for not even being together a year. 

“it all happens for a reason,” you say, tears welling up in your eyes as your feet start moving again, and tyler is following after you, quickly matching your pace. “i just, i don’t know, tyler. there’s not much we can do about it and that’s fine.”

“you’re right.” the brunette mumbles, head hanging in despair as you walked down the steps to go into the cafeteria. the rest of the walk between the two of you is silent, but a comfortable one.

the lunch table you, tyler, all of the boys, mal, and a few other girls came into view. and as soon as they realized tyler wasn’t wearing his sweatshirt and his arms were fully exposed, along with the pen ink and the looks on your faces, they all knew. they knew that you finally knew.

the conversations going on didn’t completely stop, but they quieted down for a few brief moments when you and tyler took your usual seats. you try to avoid the eyes of your friends, but it’s nearly impossible. your eyes catch luke’s, and he’s giving you the puppy dog eyes from the other side of the table.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly, and all you can do is shake your head ever so slightly. “oh, y/n.”

luke wants to reach across the table and grab your hands, but he wants to save himself from the teasing he’s sure he would get from the boys if they saw the girly handwriting on the back of his hand. “i’ll be alright, lu. promise.” you give him a reassuring smile, but of course he doesn’t believe it. not in the slightest.

“are you still gonna come to our game tonight?” tyler asks quietly from your right side, and when you turn to look at him he’s already looking down at you. if this was yesterday, you would’ve leaned up the three inches and kissed him.

“of course i’m gonna.” you say, eyes glancing down to his lips but you quickly turn away to look down at your hands. “there’s no where else i’d rather be, ty. besides, luke is still my best friend and i still have to support him.”

luke sends you a smile from across the table, one that makes you smile right back at him. for majority of the lunch period, everyone leaves you alone to wallow in your own sadness. even luke couldn’t cheer you up, and that was something. you know you shouldn’t be this upset - this happened to like, every couple that dated before finding their soulmate. but for some reason you thought you and tyler were the exception. 

another period drags on, and after what feels like forever you find yourself getting up from your designated lunch spot. luke stands, waiting for you to walk to the other side of the table so the two of you can go to art class together. “see you boys tonight,” you call over your shoulder, tearing your eyes away from tyler, and walking away hearing the boys responding saying they’ll see you later that night. 

“rant. cry. do whatever you have to do.” luke says, glancing over at his best friend that looks like she could burst into tears at any moment. luke had been waiting all day to tell you that he had finally heard from his soulmate - but as soon as he saw the look on your face he held back. he didn’t want to rub it in when you had just found out about tyler. the biggest secret he had ever kept from you.

“i just,” you purse your lips, eyes locked straight forward to avoid looking at him. “i just wish he would’ve told me. the last few months of our relationship feel like a complete lie.”

“y/n, tyler absolutely adored you. he still adores you. he never even stopped. and i can tell you for a fact that he still loves you. he’s always talking about you - he was talking about you when we were in second period today!” luke exclaims, and finally you look over at him. “i can promise you, y/n, it was not a lie, it never was.”

you can only shake your head, bottom lip between your teeth as the tears well up in your eyes. “it was supposed to be him, lu. ty and i have talked about our entire future together because we swore we were gonna end up being soulmates.”

“maybe you are soulmates,” luke says, holding open the door of the art room for you. “it’s just, not in the way you’d prefer. ty and you are soulmates, but just not romantically. do you get what i’m saying?”

“i guess.” you sigh, luke following into the classroom after you walk in. his heart yearns for you - he wants to lift up his sleeve and show you the purple ink, but he can’t bring himself to do that. 

later that night you find yourself getting ready for tyler and luke’s game, trying to decide between the 13 or the 6 jersey - jerseys the two boys had fought numerous times over which one you would wear. once tyler found out luke had given you one of his old jerseys he had outgrown, he was immediately giving you one of his as well. that was even before you and tyler were dating - he always had the biggest crush on you.

which was why he was sitting in his stall, head in his hands wondering where he had went wrong.

“ty, buddy, what’s going on?” dylan asks, noticing the brunette that has his head hung. immediately, tyler lifts his head and dylan’s eyes widen. “you look like shit, dude.”

“i feel like shit,” tyler grumbles, slowly moving to tie the laces of his skates that he always saved until the very end of gearing up. he catches a glimpse of the ink on his arm and he grimaces, wishing he could just wiped away at his skin and everything would disappear. that everything would be okay.

luke catches the eyes of his best friend and he frowns seeing the hurt in his eyes. “are you still upset about y/n?” he asks cautiously, fingers working at his laces, eyes barely glancing back up to tyler.

“yeah, i am actually. i know i don’t really have a right to be upset and all, but it still feels wrong. we went through a lot together, it just doesn’t feel real that we aren’t really soulmates. that the .  girl i was practically in love with since i got here isn’t my soulmate.” tyler shakes his head as he spills his feelings for the day out. he couldn’t wait until he got to step onto the ice and forget about the day’s events.

until he saw you sitting in your normal seat, and instead of the number 13 jersey, you were wearing the one with the 6, and the seven letter last name on the back was now one letter shorter. 

“oh fuck me,” tyler grumbles, and you’d be lying if you said your heart strings didn’t tug seeing him step out onto the ice. if the two of you had only been dating for two months rather than almost a year, maybe you would’ve felt different about the situation. but that was tyler. your tyler. or rather, gabby’s tyler now.

“y/n?” bella asks from besides you, trying to tear your sad eyes away from the brunette. when you finally do and look over at one of your best friends, she sees your teary eyes and her face softens. “oh, y/n/n. you’re taking this hard, aren’t you?”

“i don’t want my soulmate if it isn’t tyler.”

[mf-despair-queen]

Partners in Crime - Lee Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader - Mafia AU

Word Count: 17,864

Summary: Y/N meets the man of her dreams one day randomly on the street. Little does she know - he is the boss of a mafia in town. But does she care? No. They were partners in life - and partners in crime. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, I am too lazy to put more to this. 

Notes: April Fools - I’m actually posting! I’ve only had this sitting in my drafts completed for over 3 months. Be warned - I didn’t really proofread this. But it’s fine. everything is fine! Enjoy! 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

“Excuse me!” The young man called, though his calls went unnoticed. Heavy footsteps fell along the concrete as he attempted to catch your retreating figure, clutching the book you dropped while rapidly making your way down the road. When he finally caught up and tapped your shoulder to get your attention, he understood why you ignored his calls. 

With a jump in shock, you turned to the red haired man in awe. Earbuds were tucked deep in your ears, soothing jams filling your mind as you moved. Time stood still when your eyes met his deep brown ones, your heart jumping slightly. Before you stood a handsome man, mid-twenties if you had to guess, with sweet, angelic eyes, fluffy hair draping across his forehead and shielding the small slit in his eyebrow, and the sharpest jaw you had ever encountered. 

He wore a simple red wool shirt that hugged his neck and lean torso, a thin black hoodie and a puffed gray vest that was decorated in red designs. Black jeans hugged his slim waist, a black belt wrapped through the looks, and black vans covered the white socks on his feet. Three sparkling earrings dangled from his left ear, a ring adorning his left helix and one single stud rounded out his jewelry. 

Realizing that all you were doing was staring, the man awkwardly smiling and uttering mumbled words through your music, you tugged the earbuds out. “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered sheepishly. “Music.”

“I get it,” he chuckled deeply. His voice was smooth and sweet, the underlying rasp making your heart jump a second time. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I saw you drop this earlier.”

He extended the book towards you, your eyes widening at his gesture. Carefully, you took the book from him, glancing into your small bag to find it empty. “Oh my god. I didn’t even realize it fell out. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It’s the least I could do to help a beautiful girl.”

A blush spread along your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your lips. Tucking the book safely back into your bag, you glanced at the handsome man. “Well, can I know the name of the lovely gentleman that returned my book and made my trip to the cafe to read not in vain?”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. “I’m Taeyong.”

You took his hand, finding it warm and soft. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Same,” you chimed. “Well Taeyong, how can I ever repay you for this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started to say, sealing his lips when you shook your head.

“Please, I insist! I really appreciate what you did. I would have lost it in the middle of the cafe if I found I lost this book. It’s my favorite and it was a gift from my sister,” you confided. “I want to repay you somehow. Please?”

“Well,” he started, rubbing his lips together. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a cheshire-like smirk. “You could let me buy you a coffee.”

You giggled at his suggestion, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that, but only on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join me for said coffee?”

Taeyong chuckled, nodding happily. “I’d love that.”

A smile grew on your face, butterflies fluttering rampantly inside your stomach. You could feel a small blush spreading across your cheeks as your looked up at the handsome man. “Great. Shall we get going?”

Taeyong smiled back, his glowing smile infectious. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he uttered. You nodded, turning on your heel and leading him towards your original destination - Haru & Oneday - with Taeyong at your side. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets as you walked, a happy hum coming from the man. “So, tell me about yourself.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s a deep conversation. I hope you know that.”

“I have time.”

A skip inside your chest, a knot of excitement in your gut, a flash of heat across your face despite the chilled weather of December.

“Well…”

The entire afternoon was spent talking, tucked into a small corner of the cafe. The second you arrived, Taeyong asked what you wanted. While he ordered your coffee, you picked a secluded place to talk, knowing the book you planned to read that day would go untouched. You were more interested in the mysterious man that captivated you on the street, kindly returning your lost item. 

And learn about him you did. He was a kind soul, living in the same building as a bunch of friends that he worked with in business. He enjoyed singing and dancing in his free time, spitting a rap that made you laugh and clap in excitement. He liked to cook, but you figured out that he had a massive sweet tooth more than anything from the way he devoured a whole slice of chocolate cake by himself. The smile that lit up his face as he ate the decadent treat made you smile happily. 

You told him your story - where you were from, growing up in Busan, your love for cooking and reading. You even told him about the boring desk job you worked to pay for the small apartment you had. You lived an ordinary, boring life in your opinion, but Taeyong listened intently, taking interest in the little things that made you happy. 

Just as the sun was setting and his phone was ringing, presumably from his friends asking where he had disappeared to, did you agree to wrap up for the day. Taeyong slipped from his seat first, but not before sliding a folded napkin in your direction. 

“I enjoyed spending the day together, Y/N,” he mused, pocketing his hands. “I’m glad I was able to meet you today. It really made my day better. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

He waved before walking off, leaving you to gather your stuff. Just as you were finishing, you glanced at the napkin he left. Your stomach flipped and your heart raced, finding his phone number written on the paper, a cute doodle of himself, and the simple words of Call me? printed underneath. Tucking the napkin in your bag, you left the cafe, thanking the owners on your way out.

It was dark by the time you arrived home, closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. Your shoes were left forgotten in the doorway, headed straight for a shower to wash away the day’ odor. Finishing your nightly routine, you returned to the bag you left on your bed, sitting on the plush mattress. Your fingers tugged out the napkin, your lip tugged between your teeth as you contemplated shortly.

Your fingers moved without much though, grabbing your phone and typing the number into a new contact. The message you sent him was simple.

To: Taeyongie - Hey. This is Y/N. I just wanted to thank you again for today. It was great meeting you and getting to know you. I hope we can do it again sometime. 

His response didn’t take long.

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad you messaged me. I was worried for a bit that I wouldn’t get to hear from you again. 

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad I got to meet you too. You really brightened up my day, so for that, I have to say thank you.

From: Taeyongie - I can’t wait to see you again.

Your heart was aflutter, sinking into your bed and rereading the message a few times. You were glad you decided to brave the cold and travel to your favorite cafe, even if you hadn’t intended to almost lose your book and meet a gorgeous gentleman that seemed to steal your heart from under your nose already. After many failed relationships through school and early adulthood, you didn’t think you’d find someone like him that would sweep you off your feet so easily. 

When your phone buzzed again, making you jump slightly in shock, you reread his last message three times before your eyes grew wide.

From: Taeyongie - Though next time, I hope you’ll allow me to take you out for a proper first date.

Your fingers shook as you tried to type a coherent response, 

To: Taeyongie - I’m looking forward to it.

He really was one of a kind.

~

Nearly four months after meeting Taeyong, you were head over heels for the man. You talked to him daily, waking up to sweet messages wishing you a good day and falling asleep to messages bidding you sweet dreams. You had learned much about the man, finding yourself falling deep into the abyss of his chocolate colored eyes. You were wrapped around his finger, though not in a bad sense. He had stolen your heart, and you were willing to let him keep it.

Every other week, you found yourself going out with the man when you weren’t at your house together. When you chose to stay in, you would be wrapped up on your couch or in your bed watching movies while his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, or the tips of his fingers ghostling along your arms. You’d make dinner together, play games together, and even go out to walk Ruby together when he brought the small dog over for your amusement. You’d occasionally find yourself dancing together around the house, singing whatever song he decided to play for you, but you never once hated these moments. They were some of your favorites.

But he would insist on taking you out to dinner, treating you kindly to a romantic date that consisted of expensive dinners or trips to random places - the arcade and the beach being recurring destinations. He’d never let you pay, sometimes making you wonder how he could afford the expensive meals - he never did clarify what his job was - but you wouldn’t decline the dates if it meant you could see him. After the second date, he would always tentatively kiss you goodnight, the connect short and sweet, leaving you craving more. You never shared more than that - though you wished you did.

Tonight was one of those nights. Taeyong had sent you a sweet morning greeting, telling you that he was going to take you out for dinner that night. He didn’t specify where - only to dress elegantly, finishing with a cheesy remark that you always looked fabulous. He planned to pick you up at six sharp, leaving you the rest of the day to clean around the house and prepare for your fancy date. 

At five, you jumped in a shower, dressing in a lacy set of red lingerie before doing your hair and make up. You picked a sleek black dress from your closet - an expensive present you had gotten from your family one year but never found reason to wear - that would accentuate your curves, but not flaunt you in a promiscuous way. The skirt flared out against your thighs and the top hugged your chest, not being too showy around your cleavage. You wanted to impress the man, not make it seem like a slut. You finished with a pair of low heels and minimal jewelry consisting of earrings and a necklace Taeyong insisted he buy you on your third date.

Exactly at six, he was knocking on your door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. He smiled brightly, tilting his head cutely in greeting. The silver earrings swung with the movement, a few loose strands from his slicked back hair flopping loose. He wore a red and black checkered jacket over a black and white checkered button up shirt, tight black jeans with rips in the knees hugging his lean waist. 

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, extending the flowers towards you. “These are for you.”

“You know you didn’t have to, Tae,” you giggled, taking the flowers from him and relishing in the delicate aroma they offered. “But they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I know I didn’t have to but they always make you smile,” he mused with a smile. He watched you rush to put the flowers in a vase before grabbing your purse, locking the door on your way out. His arms wrapped around you, hanging loosely at your side as he stared down at your smiling face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you murmured with a light blush, running your hands up his arms, resting on his biceps. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Not that it’s hard for you with your face.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, taking your hand. “Shall we get going? Dinner awaits.”

“Lead the way.”

He led you to a car - which was rare - that took you to your mysterious location. The tall man in the driver’s seat introduced himself as Johnny, giving you both a smile before driving off. Turned out the man was one of Taeyong’s friends that he had told you briefly about before, and he had kindly offered to drive you both seeing as Taeyong didn’t have a license himself. Johnny kept to himself, allowing you to talk freely with Taeyong, the red haired man flirting carelessly the entire time.

You arrived at a tall building, Taeyong chuckling at the confused look on your face when Johnny parked the car and opened Taeyong’s door for him. Taeyong held out a hand to help you from the vehicle, thanking Johnny for the ride. The tall man simply pat his friend on the back and gave him a wink before returning to the car and driving off. Your hand slid back into Taeyong’s as he led you to the doors of the building, the doorman nodding.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee.”

The interaction with the doorman and Taeyong further confused you. This was different than your normal dinner dates where you always had a private room or balcony in the restaurants, servers catering to your every need. He wasn’t leading you into a high class restaurant where he could bypass the line and walk straight to a table without question. You were in a pristine lobby with a fountain and couches, a giant chandelier above your head. 

He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, snickering at your confusion. He didn’t bother to clarify what was going on. He simply ran his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to the music play above you. When the elevator dinged that you were at the top floor, the man led you out wordlessly, digging into his pocket for a set of keys for the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are we?” you finally questioned, watching him unlock the door. 

Taeyong hummed while pushing the door open, allowing you to walk in first. He witnessed you gawking at your new surroundings, the elegant living room of the penthouse you found yourself in leaving you flabbergasted. “Welcome home,” he chimed, shutting the door.

“This is where you live?” you asked, turning to the man. In the time you knew him, he had never once talked about where he lived. You had never seen his house, always spending time together in your tiny, cozy apartment. Now, you were staring at the large living room with multiple plush couches, art lining the walls, and a large kitchen and dining room in the distance. The table was decorated with candles and place settings, a bottle of wine being chilled in a bucket.

“Is it too much?” he asked, pouting slightly. 

“You just never mentioned you live in a penthouse!” you scolded, shoving him lightly before wrapping your arms around him. “But this is breathtaking.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. “I figured that today is our fifth date, not counting our little cafe rendezvous when we first met, so what better date night than for me to make you dinner in my own home.”

“You’re making dinner?” you chirped, gleefully bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I love your cooking so much.”

“Well, go ahead and get comfortable and I will get cooking.”

You nodded, watching him make his way into the kitchen. He poured you a glass of wine before he started cooking, watching you sink into one of the couches to watch him. He caught you occasionally looking around to take in the impressive surroundings, laughing to himself. He told you that his friends lived in their own apartments in the lower floors, leaving you to wonder what exactly they did to afford this. You didn’t know his exact line of work - he always just said business - but he was obviously successful enough to afford the penthouse of the building.

Taeyong beckoned you over when food was ready, pulling out your chair for you. He poured you more wine before serving you a piping hot bowl of bibimbap. Taking his place beside you with his own glass and bowl, he tilted his glass towards you. “To the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You giggled, flushing brightly and tilting your glass to his. With a clink of cups, you responded, “to the most handsome man in the world.”

The meal was delicious, melting on your tongue. You made small talk as you ate, enjoying Taeyong’s giddy nature from drinking. The man couldn’t hold his alcohol at all, and one sip left him red faced and giggly. You helped him with dishes when you were finished, even though he protested it vehemently, finding yourselves flicking water at each other and blowing bubbles into the air.

You curled up on the couch together for a while before he would have to take you home, Your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The silence was welcoming, the sound of his erratic heartbeat all you needed for comfort. He would sometimes hum a song for you, but mostly you just relaxed in his grasp. It was times like this that you enjoyed the most - being with him made you feel content. 

In your entire life, you never cared for someone as much as you did the red haired man before you. Never in your life did you like someone as much as you did Taeyong. He made you feel loved and cherished. He made you feel beautiful and wanted. 

You wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

You frowned when he suggested it was time to take you home. Instead of calling Johnny to drive you back, you opted for a late night walk so Taeyong could sober himself up, treating yourselves to some crepes on the way. You walked hand in hand the entire way, the sway between you both making your heart jump in your chest. 

Arriving at your apartment, you sighed under your breath, turning to look at the man. “Thank you for tonight,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I enjoyed our date. I think this was my favorite date so far.”

“Well, there’s more of these to come,” he chuckled, tugging his lip between his teeth. He stared at you silently, moving his free hand up to your face. His fingers curled against your cheek, smoothing across your skin as you sank into his touch. “Y/N…”

“I should probably go inside-”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, tugging you into him. Your hand was dropped so he could cup your face in both hands, putting everything he could into the connection. The shock from the initial kiss wore off, your eyes fluttering closed and returning his kiss. It was deeper than any kiss you shared before. His head was tilted and your lips meshed together perfectly. Your hands gripped at his jacket, pushing up into him as much as possible. 

The world around you stopped. It was just you both in that moment, sharing the most amazing kiss you had ever dreamt of. This was what you wanted, this was what you had waited for. The way his lips dragged against yours as he smothered you with his lips left you eager for more. The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours left you gasping for precious air, yet a desire to return your lips to his.

“Be my girlfriend,” he rasped deeply against your lips. 

All you could do was nod in return before he was kissing you again, dropping his hands to your waist to tug you closer. Your hands moved up and around his neck, tangling into his hair, pulling him deeper into you. The kiss intensified, lips speeding up and parting for an entourage of open-mouth kisses to start. Your bodies were flush against one another, heat spreading along your limbs.

The moment was broken from the ring of his phone, the red-haired man pulled back with a scowl. He kept you against him as he fished the phone from his pocket, reading the message he had received. Low strings of curses left his mouth before dropping the phone back into his pants, tilting your head to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Something came up that I need to take care of.”

“Is everything ok?” you wondered, frowning at his for his reaction to the message.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine, I promise. Just some last minute work popped up that I need to help Mark with,” he tried to reassure you. Something was off about his tone, but you nodded at him anyway. He must have caught your uncertainty, pulling you into a light kiss. “I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Now, go inside and I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright, Taeyong,” you whispered, kissing him one last time before backing away to unlock your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, blowing you a kiss as he backed away, turning on his heel and stampeding away. 

You watched his form vanish around the corner, tucking yourself into your apartment. Leaning against the door, you let your fingers run along your lips, smiling at the thought of your new boyfriend. The questions you had about his late night business venture were pushed aside for now as you chose to trust the man. You rushed to your room to prepare for sleep, enveloped in happy dreams of the red-haired man.

Outside your building, Taeyong stared up at your window for a moment before a black car pulled up. He quietly filled the backseat, meeting eyes with Johnny and Mark. The blank tint of the windows kept the outside from seeing the gun passed to him by the young lad int he passenger seat, Taeyong checking the clip once over.

“How’d it go?” Johnny questioned cheekily.

“You know the rules,” Taeyong glowered. “Don’t touch my girlfriend and protect her from this shit.”

“What’s going to happen when she finds out?” Mark asked.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s my problem,” Taeyong hummed, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Focus on this deal for now. I can’t have you distracted if this goes south.”

“Yes sir,” both men spoke, the car going quiet as they advanced towards an abandoned warehouse where their deal was to take place. 

~

One year. 

One year since you started dating the love of your life. Six months in, you had been the one to say it first.

“I love you, Lee Taeyong.”

He didn’t hesitate to repeat the phrase multiple times while placing kiss after kiss to every inch of your face and neck before curling into you and cuddling you tightly. You didn’t regret saying it, especially after he responded the way he did, loving you just as much as you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend your life with this man; you knew he held your heart in the palm of his hand. But you were happier than you had ever been. This was the highest point in your life.

You started spending more time around Taeyong’s massive penthouse on your days off or after work, your routine with Taeyong nothing different than before. Everything just seemed to get better - especially as his friends started to migrate into your life as well. There were twenty boys living in the building that he worked with, but he had a group of eight others that were closest to the man and popped up most often. 

You had met Johnny before when he was your chauffeur for your date, so getting to know the tall American was different. He loved photography and fashion, sometimes spending his time with you on your days off by having mini fashion shows in Taeyong’s penthouse. Taeyong always had a good laugh when he walked in on your faux walking down a runway, planting himself on the couch to watch and take his own pictures.

Taeil was the oldest of the bunch, a quiet man that enjoyed singing with his friends Doyoung and Jungwoo. He was famous in the group for his dad jokes, becoming the butt of many jokes. He also had an equally bad alcohol tolerance to your boyfriend.

Doyoung was a snarky man that loved to pick on Taeyong, but you could tell he cared about him. He had rabbit-like qualities that you found adorable. When Taeyong was busy when you were around, Doyoung would make you delicious meals that left you in a food coma on the couch until Taeyong would return.

Jungwoo was a mischievous little brat, but you always found him to be funny. He whined childishly for attention and played around with the others. He craved long hugs that made Taeyong yell at him because he was taking his girlfriend from him. 

Jaehyun was your workout buddy. The fittest of the bunch, the man with deep dimples had offered to exercise with you when you complained you had gotten lazy in Taeyong’s house. You could never keep up with him or Johnny, who often joined you both in the gym, but having someone there to push you was worth it. 

Yuta had the most infectious smile. He would always play games with you and make you smile. But the thing you did most often was watch soccer together. The man loved the sport, having grown up playing in Japan, so watching games together was always exciting. He got so captivated by them that he wouldn’t realize he was jumping around wildly.

Haechan was a brat, but he was skilled in dances. He had this innate ability to watch a dance on tv and perform it. His time would be split between the main group of nine and the younger boys in the building. Even with his evil personality, you loved the young boy, happily failing by his side when you would dance together.

Mark was probably your favorite. He was the one around most often, caring for you when Taeyong was working. He had quickly grown to be like a little brother that supported you through everything. He told you about his life in Canada while you told him about your life in Korea, sharing the littlest things with each other. He would play the guitar for you in his spare time, often lulling you to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

You didn’t expect to meet such a rowdy bunch, but they made your relationship with Taeyong even sweeter. And though you still often had dates with Taeyong, you also spent a lot of time with the group on outings. Going out for meals or going around the city was more special with your hand clamped in Taeyong’s and the bundle of males running around you.

As much as you have enjoyed your one year anniversary alone with Taeyong on a romantic date, eating an expensive dinner that you knew Taeyong would insist you have and finishing the night together tangled in the sheets, you were glad you went with the current idea. When the group found out that it was your anniversary, they insisted on taking you both out for a good night.

What started with a fun meal of barbeque that they paid for completely, not a single cent paid by you or Taeyong, turned into a drunken mess at a nightclub. Hesitant at first, you barely took a shot or two of soju with the others. Taeyong was wrecked just from those couple shots, beginning to drink more and more. Watching him enjoy himself let you relax, beginning to down your own drinks.

The night slowly became a blur of flashing lights and loud music, but you knew Taeyong was always by your side. Either his hand was in yours or resting somewhere on your body - the small of your back, wrapped around your waist and hugging you to his side, and resting on your thigh as you sat at a booth, drinking and playing games together. 

You danced together, your body rolling against his. He was obviously more skilled than you were, but even in his shrunken state, he led you confidently and naturally, grinding against you eagerly. Your back pressed against his chest as his hands sat on your hips, fingers splayed against bare skin from where you shirt rode up. When you faced him, you arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his fluffy red threads. 

Hot kisses were left on your mouth, your lips left puffy and swollen from the multiple attacks he left on you. You were already warm from the club and the plethora of people around you, but your body was searing against his. Each taunting kiss he gave you, lips parted and tongue slipping into your mouth, left you craving more. Your hands wandering against his form, trailing up and down his arms, let him panting, the man tugging his lip between his teeth.

“We should get out of here…”

That’s all he had to mutter once for you to find yourself escaping the heat of the club and back in Taeyong’s penthouse. It was past midnight when you stumbled through the door together, your lips latched together in a sloppy kiss. Your arms were wrapped weakly around him, trying to kick off your shoes as you pushed into the doorway. Taeyong kicked the door shut with his foot, struggling to lock it and discord his sneakers before entering the house. He couldn’t focus with your lips connected to his, your tongues swirling together eagerly between your cheeks.

He picked you up with easy, a squeal of shock lost to his throat. His steps were uneven as he moved forward, supporting you with one hand on your ass, the other following the wall to guide him through the darkness. The kiss broke when he tripped over the rug and bumped into a table, a bruise bound to form on his knee. Low curses left his lips, the man rushing into the bedroom. 

The door slammed shut behind you, Taeyong turning to trap you against the sealed entryway. His lips found home once more on your own, igniting another fiery kiss between you. You happily returned it, tasting the vast amounts of alcohol that lingered on his taste buds. A subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips told you to part them and let him inside, which you willingly complied. The taste of the bitter liquid from the evening was heavy on his tongue as it roamed your cheeks.

Your moans were muffled, mind foggy in the midst of the kiss. It didn’t occur to you that his hands were traveling up your sides, pushing at the bottom of your shirt until it was resting underneath your breasts. The skim of the pads of his thumbs against your sides and ribs sent shivers up your spine, more mewls of delight lost to the sensual lip lock. Taeyong pushed harder against your, his hips rutting against your clothed core, both sets of jeans blocking what you truly desired in that moment. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, letting out a groan of his own.

The first time you separated, chests heaving for precious amounts of air, he uttered two short words. 

“May I?” 

You knew what he wanted, even in the blur of words that met your ears. You nodded at him, arching off the door long enough for him to rid you of your top, the cotton fabric strewn across the floor carelessly. Lips back to yours for a single second before disappearing south, searing hot kisses leaving a wet trail along your neck and clavicle. Your swollen lips parted with delicious moans for him to savor, trembling fingers lacing through his locks on the back of his head. 

His teeth toyed with the strap on your left shoulder first, playfully nipping at your skin in his futile attempts to drag the strap down your arm. Your mewls of delight mixed with short giggles before taking the opportunity to rid yourself of the pesky garment. Taeyong pouted without a doubt - he always hated when you did it for him - but didn’t bother to argue. 

His lips found home on your bare chest, lips wrapping around the pert nipple on your right breast. A content sigh left your mouth, back arching into his touch. Your hands twisted through his red strands, giving him a tug whenever he found a sensitive spot on your chest. You tried to watch him through the haze, but your eyes were blurring too much. 

Was it the alcohol still present, slowly wearing off? Or, was it the pleasure of him suckling at your nipples, giving them short tugs with his teeth, and pulling away with short pops that rang in your ears?

You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were in heaven.

Taeyong spent several long minutes pleasuring your chest, red marks lingering on the mounds and between them when he swaps between them on occasion. With each kiss he left, and each bite he left, his hands holding you up against the wall grabbed at your backside. His hips ground against yours, becoming more frequent and harder against your covered core. The bulge in his tight jeans was obvious, growing more prevelant by the second. His cock was stiff, and his actions just solidified what he wanted.

Placing you on unsteady legs, his nimble fingers made quick work of your pants, the man kneeling long enough to tug them down your legs. Your panties came with, leaving you naked before his eyes. The red head toppled slightly, nearly falling on his ass in his tipsy state. A mixture of the alcohol and his awe at your body left him speechless and wobbly, slowly standing while working at his own jeans.

Your hands were quick to replace his, struggling to undo the button of his dark skinny jeans. Taeyong had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself upright, his other hand massaging his face a few times before pushing his hair back. Low groans and swears escaped, staring down at you when you grew frustrated and collapsed to your knees, stumbling just as he had. 

“Dammit,” you growled, tugging angrily at the jeans when they wouldn’t unbutton. Taeyong chuckled deeply.

“Need a hand?”

“No. Fuck you. I can do it myself.”

The man let out a hefty chortle at your frustration, repaying you for what you did earlier. His fingers made quick work of his own jeans, the button unsnapping and zipper slowly lowered before your eyes. With a short huff, you tugged the dark denim down his legs, leaving them around his ankles so you could rub at his covered cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned loudly. The hand he had on the wall slowly curled into a fist, pounding against the wall lightly. You smirked up at him, biting at your lip. He rarely cursed, but when he did, you knew he meant business. “Don’t tease me.”

You clicked your tongue at him as you tugged his boxers down, letting him spring free. The fabric was left to pool at his feet, you focus turning to the large cock staring straight at your face. It twitched with anticipation, the tip red, swollen and oozing precum. It pulsed as your fingers grazed along the shaft. The sight made your mouth water, tongue tracing your lips slowly.

Taeyong’s fist pounded harder to the wall, a loud grunt exhaled when he felt your lips on the tip just before taking the entire length between your cheeks. He struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision to watch you bobbing your head along his cock. Your hand gripped the base firmly, pumping it in time with your bobs. Your tongue trailed along the underside of his shaft as you moved, the tip traveling along the pulsing vein that protruded out. Your other hand toyed with his balls, juggling them between your fingers and giving them light squeezes.

“Shit,” he cursed again, earning a small smile from you. Taeyong leaned forward, placing his head against the wall, heavier pants starting to leave his lips. He could barely form words with the overwhelming ecstasy of your mouth around his cock. “Please, baby. Give me more.”

You kept your motion steady, not giving into his plea entirely. You wanted to savor the taste of his salty sweetness that seeped onto your tongue, overriding the bitter drink from the early evening. Taeyong didn’t seem pleased; his hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head, his hips jutting forward suddenly. He halted when you gagged once, knowing his abrasive stunt was a bit much.

When you were situated, stilling your movements but keeping his cock resting on your tongue, he thrust forward against. He leveraged the hold he had on your hair to push you forward, your nose meeting his pelvis. His cock met the back of your throat repeatedly as his timed thrusts met your forced head bobs, a slobbering wet gurgle of him fucking your mouth filling the air. Taeyong moaned loudly, unable to keep his voice down - not that he needed to. 

He didn’t stop until he was groaning loudly, his wild thrusts that had grown sloppy ceasing and he was spilling his salty seed down your throat, the white ribbons of cum filling your cheeks and swallowed happily. He pulled out at the end, hand wrapping around the base and giving it a few final pumps. The last few shots landed on your face and chest, your tongue extended to try and capture them. You let out a hearty giggle, tracing the cum along your face and chest with a finger.

Taeyong huffed when he watched you suck the finger clean. The man, fed up of waiting, hoisted you up by the hand before lifting you bridal and turning towards the bed. With the fabric still bundled around his ankles, he stumbled forward, kicking anxiously at them to discard. 

You were thrown careless on the bed with a light yelp and laugh, Taeyong pouncing on top of your bare form. His lips instantly met yours, furious open mouth kisses shared. Your bodies were grinding against each other rapidly, hands eagerly tracing each other’s forms. Your legs twisted together, feet playfully nuzzling against one another. Your arms looped around Taeyong’s neck, fingers curling through his tangled red hair. 

Taeyong pulled away, glancing between your forms long enough to align himself with your core, sheathing himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your eyes closed, moaning and groaning from his size. He wasn’t the largest man out there, but it never ceased to amaze you whenever you were intimate how well he could fill your pussy up. The man stilled, peppering your face with kisses and uttering sweet nothings until you gave him the signature tap on the shoulder to let him know he could continue.

His thursts always started slow, pulling back until he was about to leave you empty and then pushing back in completely. The pace would be slow and steady, soft moans leaving you both. But as time went on, he would gain momentum, hips starting to snap into yours hastily until he was slamming into you, pressing you into the mattress. The sound of clapping skin grew louder, the moans became screams of his name, and your body trembled under his. 

You were quick to orgasm, feeling his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight core quickly, pounding at you quickly. The tip pushed against your g-spot every time he pushed into you, earning himself a breathy pant from below him. Your walls would hug around him, making it harder for him to concentrate on his thrusts. It grew worse when he felt you shudder, back arching and toes curling. Your pussy squeezed him, spilling around his thick shaft and soaking it completely. 

Taeyong stopped moving, not wanting to fill you up so soon, watching your twitching form relax after a minute. Leaning back on his knees between your legs, he pulled himself out, satisfied at how wet his shaft was. HIs fingers toyed with your sensitive entrance for a moment, hearing you groan and watching you twist in subtle discomfort.

He placed a longing kiss on your lips before turning you on your side, laying behind you. His fingers ran along your sides soothingly, drawing different shapes on your stomach and chest. He carefully draped your leg back over his hips, jutting his forward to slide himself between your pussy lips. A low mewl escaped, turning your head back to him to share a loving kiss just as he pushed into you once more.

His hand gripped at your breast, lips pressed to your shoulder. His thrusts picked up steadily, pushing himself deeply into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, his already moist length sliding with ease between your tight walls. He collided with your backside with each thrust, groaning happily with every smack he heard. The bed squeaked with his quick thrusts, jostling with the movements of your bodies. 

Despite his hard and fast repetition of his cock pushing into you, his lips placed kisses to your ear. You could hear his pants and low grunts in the buzz of your ecstasy, enjoying the way he felt thrusting into you furiously. Every slam into you made your head spin, the feeling of his length sliding against your walls causing your heart to beat faster. The way his lips felt against the side of your head at the same time that his cock pushed deeping to and pressed against the most sensitive spot to make you quiver was causing your stomach to burn.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your ear softly, nipping at your earlobe. When you moaned in response, his lips curled upwards. His hand grasped tighter to your breast, burrowing his face into you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I love…” you started, panting quickly. 

Taeyong knew what you wanted to say. It was clear. He also knew that you were close again - because so was he. His thrusts were growing sloppy and he could feel your walls tightening sporadically around him. You were both chasing the final high of the night as exhaustion was becoming apparent.

He pulled out, leaving you whining and empty. It wasn’t for long because he pushed you once more on to your back, sliding into you quickly and roughly. Every time, Taeyong had a thing for finishing in a way where he could see your face. He loved to watch you ascend into heaven, feeling blissful from sex. He leaned on his knees between your legs, one hand pushing your leg back and resting on the back of your thigh so your foot rested on his shoulder, and the other pushing your other leg out to spread you wide for him. His eyes were cast onto you body, swapping between your breasts bouncing with his quick snaps, to your heavenly face, swollen lips parted with moans.

“Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat running down his brow. “Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded. Rule number one with Taeyong: he always wanted to make sure you were pleased before he was. He always made sure to make you cum before him, and if he didn’t he would work extra hard to please you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to beg for you to snap under him.

“Tae…”

“I know baby,” he let out, heaving for air. “Come on. We’re almost there. Just let it go for me.”

“I love you…”

He grit his teeth and dove in for one last kiss, both of you breaking at the same time. Your bodies trembled together, your juices spilling around his length and his thick seed filling your core completely. Your inner walls were painted white by the strings he spewed, letting them decorate your core in warm stickiness. You moaned into his kiss, too weak to hug him close. 

You were limp when he pulled out, half-lidded eyes watching the satisfied man. His fingers danced along your core, spreading your pussy lips to watch your combined juices trying to escape. One slick finger carefully pushed the juices back in, causing you to shutter and mewl his name. Content with the pleasure, he collapsed beside you, two sweaty bodies sticking to his silk sheets. A thin blanket was dragged over your bodies, one of his arms draping across your stomach. You curled into his side, letting out a long breath.

“I love you so much,” you whispered again. Taeyong didn’t reply, making you glance up at him. “Taeyong?”

“Move in with me,” he whispered. you almost felt like you didn’t hear him right. You blinked a few times before sitting up slowly, groaning in pain. You hugged the blanket to your chest, turning to the man. 

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “You’re already here all the time, and you shouldn’t have to be paying for the dingy apartment. I love you so much, baby, and I want you to live with me.”

The room grew quiet, the air thick. You repeated the offer in your mind. The alcohol had worn off at this point, so there was little chance that he wasn’t thinking straight. Taeyong stared at you silently as you thought, biting at his lip. Only when you carefully took his hand in yours and placed them laced together in your lap did he let out the breath he had been holding. 

“I will,” you mumbled before turning to him and kissing him passionately. “I will, Taeyong. I love you so much. I will move in with you.”

“Wonderful,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “You just made a man very happy today.”

“Well, you always make me happy,” you told him back.

“Yeah. I always will…”

~

You awoke to the sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains, the light hitting your face directly. A low groan left your lips as you turned over, finding the bed cold and empty beside you. Since moving in with Taeyong, you had become accustomed to the morning he was gone when you woke up. He had work to do, and he hated to disturb you when he left. 

When your eyes fell on a small box on your side tab and a folded note, you smiled. Carefully sitting up, blanket to your chest, you grabbed the two items, looking at the note first. It was short:

A beautiful present for a beautiful woman. I will be home for dinner, so I will see you then. I love you. Have a wonderful day babe.

You shook your head, looking into the box. It was a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that would dangle and shine from your lobes. You shook your head, letting out a short laugh. 

“That man,” you scowled playfully. “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”

He always bought you presents, especially after you moved in months ago. They were always expensive, and you would yell at him for wasting so much on you. He said it wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you. It left you wondering how much money he had. You never fought him hard about it; the gesture was always sweet and made you smile because he thought of you so much.

Climbing out of bed, you grabbed an outfit from the closet, showering and dressing quickly. It was the early afternoon when you stepped out of the penthouse, leaving the large building with a pep in your step. You walked down the road to a small market store on the corner, a place you would frequent when you had small cravings or needed mild groceries. With the thought of Taeyong returning in time for dinner, you wanted to return his generous gift with a homemade meal of his favorite items - complete with a chocolate cake.

The only issue was you were low on groceries. The last of your groceries went to a large group dinner a few nights prior, the pair of you opting for take out after that. You figured you would only get a few groceries for the time being until Johnny could take you down for a full grocery run. 

The door jingled when you walked in, the street oddly empty. You paid no attention to the lack of people around, waving at the store owner who sat at the register behind the counter. You grabbed the small reusable bag and disappeared down the aisles, humming to yourself as you searched for what you needed. 

“Let’s see. If I make kalguktsu, I will need more noodles and vegetables. We have stock still, and I could pick up some prawns for it too. Maybe grab some snacks and something for lunch. Maybe some kimbap…”

You talked to yourself as you placed the desired items in your bag. Making it to the last aisle for your snacks, your eyes ran over the items, searching for anything that sounded good. You kneeled to the floor to look at the lower shelves, placing the bag aside, when the door jingled again. Initially, you paid no mind to it, figuring another customer walked in.

Until you heard a gunshot. 

You collapsed to the side in shock, watching the water canister in the corner get pierced, water leaking onto the ground and flooding it. You covered your mouth in shock, afraid to make a noise. 

“Well, well, Dohyeon,” someone spoke, causing you to shake. “Is anyone else here?”

Your breathing stopped. you glanced towards the end of the aisle, afraid they would hear you or find you. You could feel your hands shaking, tears starting to leak from your eyes. With bated breath, you awaited the owner’s response. 

“No,” he responded confidently, no waiver in his voice. “It’s been slow today. But I guess I know why.”

“Yeah,” the person responded. “Come on in, boss. Coast is clear.”

The door jingled, two pairs of footsteps tapping against the floor. You waited to hear what they would have to say, but what you heard made your heart stop for reasons other than fear.

“You should have known I would find out.”

Through bleary eyes, you glanced up, finding a reflective mirror in the corner of the store. In front of the counter stood four men - four men you knew too well. Johnny and Jaehyun held guns at the owner - Dohyeon - while Mark stood behind the man with familiar red hair. You wanted to cry and sob, but you couldn’t. You were appalled to find Taeyong there, staring down Dohyeon with his own gun.

“You knew those drugs were mine. You were supposed to sell them for us. But no. You had to go and doublecross us and sell the stock to Stray Kids? What kind of profit did you make off that.”

Dohyeon was quiet.

“Yeah, you know I’m fucking pissed. You know better than to cross me. But you did anyway!” Another shot fired, making you jump as a counter behind Dohyeon collapsed. “Now, you’re lucky I’m willing to give you one last chance. I could easily kill you here and now, but you haven’t done us wrong until now. 

“But, it won’t come free. I want you to hand over all of the cash you received from them, plus interest. And I expect the next time we give you something, you make sure to stay selling for us. Your cut will be reduced until you are back in good faith, but it’s better than being dead, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Dohyeon whispered bitterly. 

“You don’t sound very grateful,” Taeyong growled. “Would you prefer I just shoot you here and now? I can make that happen.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Mark threw a bag on the counter. “Put the money in the bag. All of it.”

You watched Dohyeon load the bag with money from under the counter, as well at the money from the register to satisfy Taeyong’s demands. The bag was zipped shut, Mark taking it from Dohyeon’s grasp. The owner sat back down, watching the four men.

“Think of this as a warning,” Taeyong sneered. “You agreed to this. You work for me and if I find out you are pulling some shady shit again, I will have you killed in the most gruesome way possible. No one fucks with NCT. Am I clear?”

“Yes…”

“I say am I clear?!”

“Yes sir!”

“Good. And if anyone asks what happened here, we were never here. Some kids vandalized you, or something of the sort. You’re a smart man. That’s obvious by trying to sell to Stray Kids, but not smart enough if you didn’t think you’d be caught.”

Taeyong made his way to the door, Mark in tow. Johnny and Jaehyun followed behind them both, never lowering the guns. Taeyong sent one last glance at the man behind the counter. 

“Pleasure doing business as always.”

When the door closed and the jingling stopped, you dropped your hand, feeling your entire body trembling. After a minute passed, and you were sure they had left, you stood on shaky legs, grabbing the bag from the ground. You stumbled out of the aisle, slipping in the pool of water on your way to the door. Dohyeon said nothing as he watched you slap money onto the counter and rush out the door. You ran down the street with bag in hand, disappearing into the sudden sea of people that flooded the previously vacant area.

Sitting at home awaiting his return was nerve wracking.  The second you got home, you threw yourself into another shower, collapsing to the floor and wailing loudly with sobs. The remainder of the afternoon was spent replaying what happened, and pondering how to confront Taeyong about what you had witnessed. You watched the time tick on, curling into yourself with a blanket on the couch.

Taeyong walked through the door with a smile, dropping his keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his red jacket. “Baby, I’m home,” he called happily, making his way into the living room. He expected to find you cooking or watching tv, but let his smile fade when he noticed the silence and you curled up on the couch staring at nothing. “Babe?”

You didn’t respond, worrying the red-haired man. He rushed forward, taking a seat at your feet. His hand ran along your blanket covered leg, pausing when he felt you flinch. Taeyong frowned, tilting his head at you. “Y/N, what’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I saw you…”

“What?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him. He could immediately tell you had been crying from your red and swollen eyes. “Tell me honestly - what is your job?”

“I…” he started, but stopped, turning away.

“I saw you at the little corner store you took me too and we always shop at.”

He stayed silent.

“Taeyong, I want the truth.”

“I think you already figured it out,” he rasped bitterly before sighing. “If you want out now, I won’t blame you. I won’t hold it against you. And I will make sure that no one comes after you for it as long as you remain quiet about what you know.

“But I… I have lied to you many times. And I’m not proud of that. I honestly should have never dragged you into this, but I couldn’t help myself. I have lied about many things, but I have never lied about my feelings for you. I love you with all my heart, Y/N, and I will do anything to keep you safe.

“But I understand that I have made mistakes by keeping this from you. I never wanted you to be involved, but I should have seen this coming one day. And I’m sorry.”

His gaze was on the floor as he talked, but shot up when your cold hand took his, lacing your fingers together. He stared at you, nervously holding his breath. “I don’t like that you lied about this. That you kept this from me for so long.”

“I know…”

“But, I’m also in too deep,” you murmured. Taeyong gave your hand a squeeze. “I fell in love with you the day I met you and I’ve only gotten deeper since then. I… I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to leave you.”

“You know I live a dangerous life, right?”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” you told him. “But, we are in this together. I will support you and help you where I can. We’ll just be partners in crime.”

Taeyong bit his lip, running a hand through his red hair until the strands were tousled and sticking up in random directions. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? I don’t want you to feel pressured to join this lifestyle because of me.”

“I’m sure,” came your meek voice. The man could tell you were scared of the answer, of the path you were agreeing to, but the solid grip on his hand and the fire behind your blown orbs gave him your resolve. “I want to stay by your side. I will help you no matter what.”

“Partners in crime, eh?” he chuckled weakly, smiling weakly at your own giggle in return. 

“Yeah. Partners in crime. If you go down, I go down with you. I’m not leaving your side in this. I know I may not seem like the best candidate for this, but I am a quick learner for whatever you need. Train me for whatever you think you need me for. 

“But going forward, you can’t keep things like this from me. If you want to make this work - to make us work - we need to have this trust. If you are as serious about us as you say you are, and I know you are because I have felt your love and passion, then we need to be open. Which means no lies, no deceit, and most of all, standing by each other’s decisions. We are partners in life, in death, and now, in crime I guess.” 

You paused briefly to let out a breath, watching the man nod at your words. “I won’t deny that I am scared of what I am agreeing to, but I will do what I have to because I want to be with you. Until death do us part.”

Taeyong didn’t say anything. The leader silently crawled onto the couch with you, your body shifting slightly so he could nestle himself between you and the back cushions. His head rested on your breast, one arm looped loosely around your waist. Your hand ran through his ruffled locks, feeling his tense form starting to relax at the soothing motion. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was scared too - not for the work he did, but for your inevitable involvement. 

“I love you. So much…”

His voice was low and muffled, but his words were clear.

“I love you too…”

It made you wonder how a man as soft as the one curled into your side was when you were alone could be so ruthless. You heard him that day threaten the owner of the store, and the thought alone still sent shivers up your spine. But it was just another thing you were going to accept about the mysterious man. 

You were serious when you said to death do you part. You were determined to stand by his side in every situation. He loved you and you loved him. Even though he was a dangerous man, you knew you couldn’t escape.

He had your heart in his hand after all.

Hours later, long after the sun had set and the clock struck midnight, you sat on the same couch, listening to Taeyong pace around behind you. After your confrontation upon his return home, you prepared dinner and had an emotional discussion about everything. He revealed everything to you in that time, laying his life on the table before you. 

He led a small mafia group called NCT. They were one group under a larger organization, and their group controlled the area you lived in. There were twenty-one boys in their unit, breaking into smaller units to manage their territory. Taeyong mentioned there were rival groups that tended to do business in their area, but for the most part, they didn’t clash too much. 

Taeyong, though he led all of the boys in the building, worked mostly with the eight other boys you had spent so much of your time with. The other two groups, Dream and WayV, had members who lead them when Taeyong couldn’t. The building they lived in was owned by their organization. 

And as he spilled everything, including his background and how he got involved coming out of high school, everything seemed to click more given everything you had been through with him since you met. Yet, it didn’t change your feelings for him. It just solidified his trust in you and his desire to have you in his life. 

Now ame the hard part.

“What’s going on boss?” a loud voice chimed as the front door opened widely, eight chipper boys filing through the entryway quickly, led by Mark. “Did something happen with that weapons… call…”

Mark’s voice faded away when the group saw you sitting on the couch and their leader anxiously walking back and forth, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nibbled at it. All of the boys gaped at the sight, unprepared for your presence. Mark seemed the most uncomfortable, seeing as he was about to talk business, assuming that was what they were being called for given the cryptic message they had received that simply said “we have something to discuss. It’s important.”

“Y/N…” Mark stuttered out, panic laced in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here…”

“She lives here,” Yuta pointed out lowly, only to receive a jab in his side from Mark’s elbow.

“Well, just ignore whatever I was saying! It wa a joke really-”

“It’s fine,” Taeyong said, cutting the young boy off. He stopped pacing to face the group, still biting at his nail. “She knows.”

The boys stared at their leader for a minute before bursting into a loud mixture of questions and concerns. Taeyong stared blankly at them until he got fed up with their loud noise, motioning them to silence. The room grew quiet in an instant, all eight of the boys finding places to eat to listen to what Taeyong had to say. 

“She saw us earlier today when we went to handle Dohyeon. She knows who we are and what we do. We’ve already talked about it,” Taeyong muttered.

You stayed silent, waiting for someone to react. But the last thing you expected was Jaehyun, your trusted workout buddy, to stand from his seat across from you and point a gun at your forehead. His eyes narrowed on your form, your stare on him unwavering. Deep inside, you were quaking with fear. You barely registered the remaining boys behind him yelling at him to stand down.

The leader wasn’t having this action. Taeyong was swift to react himself, grabbing a gun he kept in a drawer near the couch and aiming it at Jaehyun. Taeyong’s glare at his friend was sharp, eyes darker than normal. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping completely. “Stand down, Jae.”

“She knows, Taeyong,” Jaehyun retorted, never moving his gaze to his leader. “What’s to stop her from spilling this to the cops? What’s to stop her from leaving when we least expect it and turning us in? We aren’t the good guys here, and now your little girlfriend knows our secret. I knew this wasn’t a good idea when you started bringing her here. It was only a matter of time. So now, we need to make sure she isn’t going to turn.”

“Jaehyun-”

“I don’t plan to sell you out,” you spoke up, cutting off Taeyong. “If I did, I wouldn’t have come back here and confronted Taeyong about this.”

“So? That means nothing. You could be gathering evidence to bring to the cops-”

“I love Taeyong,” you cut in. “I wouldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are my friends. We have spent so much time together and I love you guys to death.”

“How can I trust you?” Jaehyun snapped.

“You’ll just have to,” you told him.

“Put the gun down, Jae,” Taeyong told him, watching the man slowly lower the weapon and return to his seat. His own gun was placed aside, placing his hands on your shoulders instead. “We’ve talked about this all night. It hasn’t been easy. But you guys know I love Y/N to death. I don’t want to lose her. And her saying she is willing to accept this part of me, this part of us, means everything to me. I don’t want to lose her.

“So, after talking about it, I’ve agreed to let her join us. She said she wants to help us. But, we wanted to get your guys’ approval for her to join as well. We are a team and I can’t decide this on my own.”

You placed a hand on his that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you guys may be concerned, but I promise you that I am here to help. I don’t want to sell anyone out or see anyone get hurt. I just want to be with Taeyong and all of you.” You paused, feeling Taeyong lean down to kiss the top of your head. “Taeyong and I are partners. I love him with all my heart and I will stand by his side until death do us part. Now, we’ll just be partners in crime too.”

The room grew quiet again, your stomach bubbling with nerves. You weren’t sure what their response would be, or what would happen if they decided you didn’t belong. You feared you would be forced to leave the man you loved because of his occupation.

“So, till death do you part? Does that mean you guys are going to get married finally?” Jungwoo chimed happily, eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for Taeyong to propose for so long. Can I be the flower boy?”

“You’re not even the youngest!” Haechan growled, Jungwoo giving him a smug smile.

“But I’m cuter!”

“Hey, no fighting!” Doyoung scolded the two boys. “They didn’t say anything about marriage yet!”

“We all know it’s coming,” Yuta chuckled, watching your cheeks instantly flush a bright red. You turned to Taeyong, flustered. Taeyong shrugged with an obvious smile.

“They aren’t wrong. One day, you will be mine. But, I plan to propose to you properly.”

“Taeyong!” you screamed, swatting at him. Everyone laughed, Jaehyun excluded. As everyone quieted down, Taeyong spoke back up.

“By a show of hands, how many of you are in favor or letting Y/N join? Before you decide, please know that we will need to train her in what we do.” His eyes turned to Jaehyun for a moment before continuing. “On a count of three. One… two… three…”

Four hands shot up instantly - Mark, Jungwoo, Haechan and Yuta. three hands were slow to follow - Taeil, Doyoung and Johnny. Everyone turned to Jaehyun, who had yet to decide. The man stared deeply at you, mouth in a tight line.

“If she joins, I am in charge of training,” his cold voice cut in. “I don’t trust her in this situation and if things turn south, I will not hesitate to end this deal.” 

You shivered at his words, but glanced up at Taeyong, giving him a nod. Taeyong sighed.

“Fine, but just know that if you turn around and kill her, I will kill you.”

“Deal,” Jaehyun said before raising his hand.

Taeyong smiled slightly before nodding. “That’s it. With everyone’s consent,” he hummed, moving to sit beside you. He kissed your cheek swiftly, your face heating. “Welcome to NCT, Y/N.”

You smiled, bowing to the boys. “Thank you for having me.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Mark hummed, everyone agreeing.

You knew he wasn’t wrong. 

~

If you ever thought you’d be good at something in life, it wasn’t your skill with fighting or with a gun. It wasn’t your natural ability to be intimidating on command. Maybe you thought you’d be good at sewing, or maybe drawing beautiful scenary on paper. 

But no. 

Under Jaehyun’s watchful eye, the glint from the darkness as he watched you punch at a dummy in the weight room before pushing it back completely despite being twice your size, or when your eyes narrowed on a target, the sudden jolt of the gun in your hands leading to a bulls eyes through the forehead of your paper victim, you had managed to fit right now with the mafia boys you had come to love. 

Jaehyun, naturally, still had minor suspicions of you, even after months of one-on-one training to get you in tip top shape to be a member. But, the day you managed to take him down in a spar, leaving you giddy with delight before hopping around the room ecstatically, he started to lay off on his threats to end you so willingly. When you hadn’t spilled the truth to anyone, even when your former boss asked why you were quitting so suddenly, he felt a bit more at ease. When you took training seriously, showing up early and staying extra late to master what he was trying to teach, pushing through pain to continue, he would smile just a bit at your determination.

Taeyong couldn’t have been more proud. He had told you that on many occasions. When he would pop in to assess your progress, he never found a second to be unimpressed. You had grown strong in your time with Jaehyun, making you a force to be reckoned with.

And he couldn’t lie when he said it wasn’t attractive. 

There were the days when he would join in on your hand-to-hand training, after Jaehyun was willing to allow his boss to intervene. There were days he would be in the gun range on the ground floor, hidden deep in the back in a soundproof room, where we would watch you fire shot after shot without missing your mark, sometimes joining for a small competition. He never lost, but you didn’t make it easy when he would get distracted by your beauty.

In those days, Jaehyun would dismiss himself early, trusting his boss and friend in case something were to happen. And he was right - in a sense. Those were the days you found yourself getting frisky with your lover, moaning loudly while he thrust into your wet core. He’d have you pressed against a mat in the training room, or sitting atop the table in the gun range where you’d place your unused weapons, pounding you like an animal in heat, leaving searing hot kisses along your face and throat. You’d have to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it to be with Taeyong in that way; night time was never the best for intimacy when you were both exhausted. 

Part of you was glad that no one ever walked in when you had those moments, but part of you was also convinced that Jaehyun knew what would happen when you were left alone together, and he would warn the others not to disturb you. 

He was cold, but you knew he meant well. 

When you awoke one morning nearly six months into your newfound profession, you found Taeyong dressed in a black turtleneck and tan trench coat, loose blue jeans hugging his slim waist, and his bright red locks slicked back the way he did when he meant business, you knew he was on a job that day. 

“I want to join,” you meekly voiced, catching him off guard. The man whipped around to face you, adjusting his necklaces.

“You’re worn out, baby. And this is a pretty big job today. I don’t want you to get involved,” he voiced, biting at his lower lip. “This jewelry store owner that we leant money to so he could start up his business hasn’t paid, but he’s not a pushover. I don’t want you there in case things turn ugly.”

“I’ll be fine, Yong,” you hushed him, slinging yourself from the bed and rushing to the closet. Taeyong pouted, following after you.

“Babe-”

“No, don’t start,” you huffed at him. “You’ve only sent me on small jobs. I’m ready for something more, Taeyong.”

“I know, but-”

“But nothing!” you yelled. When Taeyong recoiled slightly, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Yongie. But I think I’m ready. I agreed to do this, to join you guys. So, let me do my job. I can help. And if things go sour, I can handle myself. I’m almost as good of a marksman as you. I can sometimes take down Jaehyun in a fight and he’s not an easy target. Yes, I’m tired because of yesterday’s training, but I’m not too tired to go help you with this. So, please-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his plump lips sealing yours. Your body instantly melted into his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His hands were clasped to your hips, tugging you closer. When he pulled away, finding your eyes closed and lips puckered, he chuckled. 

“Shut up and get dressed. We don’t have all day.”

You were left alone, a silent cheer leaving your body before rushing to find an outfit. In a matter of minutes, you were bouncing into the living room, pulling on a loose blouse to go with the tight black jeans. Taeyong’s eyes followed after you from the breakfast bar, licking his lips.

“Do you plan to seduce someone?” he chirped cheekily. “Because I must say, it’s working.”

“Shut up,” you scowled at him, trying to hide the blush and smile on your face while trekking to the front door. You picked up a pair of sleek heels - ones that Taeyong gifted you one day - and turned to the red haired man, giving a sultry wink. “Now, shall we get going, big boy? We have a job to do.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this. You’re gonna be the death of me before we ever get to the store.”

You giggled, pulling on your shoes and slipping out the door. Taeyong closely followed, taking your hand on the way to the elevator and to the garage. Johnny and Mark were waiting, as per usual for things like this, but the look of surprise on their faces when they saw you at their boss’ side made you chuckle. They didn’t question, Johnny simply opening the door so you and Taeyong could slide into the back. The tall man took his place at the wheel, Mark bouncing in the passenger seat as the car rolled from its spot onto the crowded street.

On the drive, you were briefed more in depth about what was going on. Mark, who was busy loading ammo into an arsenal of guns, passed two back, Taeyong tucking one into his jeans and handing you the other. Your heart pounded, looking down at the gun in your hand. It felt heavy in your grip. Despite the training, and the few things you had done for Taeyong, you had not actually used the weapon on someone. Would today be the day? You couldn’t say, but something in your gut said today wouldn’t be a good day. Bile rose in your throat at the worrisome feeling that lingered inside.

The street was near desolate when you arrived, the four of you sliding out of the car and approaching the jewelry store. No one was inside when you entered, a small bell ringing upon your entrance. The store owner, an older man named Youngjae, sitting behind the counter turned his head up with a smile that quickly vanished when he realized who had entered. Taeyong approached him confidently, you and Mark on his tail. The young blonde boy carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. Johnny guarded the door, flipping the sign to closed, securing the lock, and pulling down the sun visor so people couldn’t see what was happening so clearly. 

“Time to pay up, Youngjae,” Taeyong spoke clearly, skipping the theatrics and jumping straight to the point. Youngjae’s gaze on the young mafia leader didn’t falter, his lips sealed in a tight line. “Are you deaf? You’re lucky we waited until now to come collect. You are nearly six months overdue on that loan for this shop. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing rather well for yourself.”

Taeyong walked around the store, picking up some necklaces on display that had diamonds that shone brightly, trailing some fingers along the sapphire bracelets, and finally stopping at the engagement rings. He picked one up that had a square cut diamond in the center, two smaller ones adorning either side of it. He seemed to hum in approval, grabbing a velvet box from a stand and turning to Mark. 

“Pack up some of the jewelry. We can use it as part of the payment.” Youngjae went to move when the younger male moved to collect from open stands, Taeyong quick to pull his weapon on the man. The older gentleman rose both hands, stilling in his movements, his stoic face unchanged. “Don’t even think about it.”

When Mark finished collecting what he deemed most valuable, he placed the bag in front of Youngjae. “Money,” the boy spoke.

When he didn’t move, Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “You heard him,” the boss sneered angrily, narrowing his eyes. “All of the money in your safe deposit under the counter - I know it’s there because we installed it - and in your register. We’ll take that for now. If you continue to avoid payment, we will come back for the bank account. Sound fair?”

Youngjae continued to stay unmoving.

In a flash, you pulled out your own gun, clicking the safety off and aiming directly at his forehead. Your eyes were dark, making the older man visibly swallow. You were mildly thankful for your quick makeup job, making you somewhat more intimidating than your normal soft exterior. 

“I won’t say it again,” you huffed. “Put the money in the bag, or I will shoot you. I don’t have time to play this game with you, so if you value your life, i suggest you do what you’ve been told, pay up when you need to, and move on with your life. You made a deal with the devil for this, so it’s time to pay up. What do you say, sweetie?”

Youngjae silently nodded, opening the register and pulling handfuls of bills out. He followed by kneeling down on the floor to unlock the safe deposit box, pulling out more wads of bills that were all placed into the duffle bag. When he was finished, he backed away slowly, hands still in the air.

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled eerily, nodding at Mark to grab the bag. Taeyong smirked at himself, waving at Johnny to unlock the door. Mark left first, Johnny following to bring the car forward. “Pleasure doing business sweetheart. Don’t let this happen again.”

Blowing in a quick kiss, you made your way to the door, heels clicking and hips swaying. Taeyong followed after you, keeping an eye on the owner before slipping out of the door. You both piled back into the car, the vehicle quick to disappear down the road.

But what you had both missed in that moment was Youngjae pressing the small panic button on the underside of his countertop. His eyes traveled to the small tv on the side of his counter that showed security footage of the car you had gotten into, the man narrowing on the license plate. When his phone rang, police on the other line, he picked up.

“I’ve just been robbed by the mafia. I have their plate number. It’s…”

The events went unbeknownst to you on your way back to the penthouse, Taeyong’s hand on your thigh. He placed a kiss to your ear, nipping it lightly. “That was hot,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d be so turned on hearing you talk like that.”

“Is that so?” you hummed, turning to face him. His eyes were dark and lustful, making you wiggle in your seat. His lips curled up, giving a toothy grin.

“Guys, take care of the goods,” he voiced when Johnny pulled into the garage. You were nearly yanked from the car before it could come to a complete stop, Taeyong lifting you into his arms and carrying you away. Mark and Johnny watched you squeal loudly, cringing when they saw Taeyong smack your backside on his way to the elevator.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Mark mumbled, Johnny nodding in agreement.

The moment you were pushed through the penthouse door, you were dropped onto the couch, shoes and blouse discarded immediately. Taeyong went to pounce on your, narrowly missing your escaping form into your shared bedroom. His huff of annoyance could be heard as you ran into the bathroom, pulling off your jeans and undergarments as you went. You disappeared into the glass shower before Taeyong could join you, starting the hot water up. 

Taeyong’s eyes narrowed on your now wet form, watching you make faces at him through the glass. Your form was bare and dripping, and adding that to the memory of early, he was twitching already. The tan coat had been discarded on the bed before he joined you in the bathroom, but he didn’t hesitate to shed the turtleneck and jeans as well. The door was shut, and the glass door was opened, the man appearing at your side.

Immediately, you were tugged into a searing kiss, your body melting into his grasp under the waterfall of droplets that cascaded down your forms. He didn’t bother to ask for permission, his tongue bypassing your lips to attack the inside of your mouth. His hands gripped harder to your hips, veins running along up his hands and along his arms. His head tilted to the side to press perfectly against you, his mouth molding into yours without issue.

He pulled away for air, the steam from the shower making it harder to breath. Taeyong eyes were darker than normal, lust slated within the brown orbs. His tongue passed over his swollen lips, tracing yours slightly from the close proximity, earning a small whimper from within your throat.

“You were wonderful out there today,” he hummed lowly, nipping at your skin until he reached your ear. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump in the way you did. And you way you handled everything?” He paused for a moment, his breath hot on your ear. “It was pretty fucking hot.”

His words made you shiver, a mewl of delight piercing the sound of falling water. Taeyong pushed back his now wet hair, biting at his lip. 

“I should reward you for it. How does that sound?”

You didn’t even respond. His face was simply tugged back to yours, eagerly kissing his plump lips once more. Your hands cupped his cheeks, taeyong pulling you taut against his body. His steps moved forward; yours moved back. You found yourself pressed against the chillingly cold wall of the shower, grimacing in the midst of the sloppy connection and arch your back away from the steely frost against your skin. It only pushed you further into the mafia boss’ needy body, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.

His lips traveled from your ear, down your cheek and to your neck, attacking it with suckling kisses that left dark red blotches ebbed on your skin. Your hands on his cheeks slid up to his wet red locks, scratching at his scalp happily. Your body burned under his light touches, feeling his fingers ghosting along your arms to your chest, fondling your breasts for a moment before his lips replaced his diligent digits to suckle at the hardened nipples, finally sliding down between your soaked forms to to with your moist pussy. 

The combination of his long fingers alternating between circling your clit and prodding at your core, and his gentle cites and kisses to your sensitive mounds sent your head reeling back, loud moans unceremoniously filling the air. Taeyong’s wicked grin against your chest was obvious almost as much as his increased actions, speeding up rubbing at your nub and popping his lips against your chest when he would tug at the buds.  

“Yong,” you whimpered at him, squirming in his grasp. Your stomach churned with arousal and delight, the feeling of his fingers sliding into your tight core adding to the stars you were already feeling. The thrusts of the two digits made you body jolt, his hand quick and nimble. His thumb pressed to your clit as he moved, the man grinning at your face that was twisted with ecstasy. “Oh god, baby. Yes.”

“You like that?” he mused, kissing his way back up to your face. “Or, do you like my cock better?”

“At this point, anything,” you managed to get out, breath picking up the closer you got to your end. “I love you so much, Taeyong.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, kissing you lightly. “I love you too, baby.”

He pulled his fingers back before you could finish, a whining groan escaping you. “You love me but you don’t let me finish? How dare you-”

In a flash, you were spun around, your eyes meeting the wall, barely able to make out the condensation dripping along the white porcelain. Your hands pressed to the surface to keep from falling over, fingers curling against it. The feeling stung against your palms, your hands cold in contrast to the wet wall heated from the water that rained around you. The heat of a body pressed against your back, searing kisses placed along your neck and shoulder, sent shivers along your spine. Strong but delicate hands roamed along your form, hips rutting against your backside slowly, before your right leg was hiked up swiftly. 

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered seductively into your ears, lips tracing along the shell delicately.

“Yes, please,” you mewled at him, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Please, Taeyong.”

The low hum heard amongst the shower left your mind blank, anticipation flooding your veins. The slow rut of his hips was agonizing, and it wasn’t until he finally slid into you with one swift thrust that you felt full. A loud moan left your lips, your forehead placed against the wall happily. His thrusts began quick, wasting no time with slamming himself into your tight center and shoving your body further against the wall. 

“Oh Tae,” you let out. The familiar curl of his grin against the side of your head was unmistakable at the sound you made. 

“God, you always feel so good,” he rasped lowly, jutting himself harder than before and grinding against you harshly. The deep grunt he let out was thrilling to hear. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“I think it’s me that got lucky,” you managed to say through plants, jolting when he resumed his rapid thrusts. “I’m so lucky:”

Taeyong seemed to speed up from your broken words, his cock pistoning in and out of you swiftly. His hips clapped against your ass, your leg hiked up bits at a time that made the angle deeper and his cock hit spots that made you shake. Every push into you, he found that one spot that had you moaning his name pathetically, chanting it like a mantra. 

The water was beginning to go cold by the time you were convulsing from his thrusts, feeling his hand wrap around your throat the closer you got to your high. You begged him softly to let you cum, the man commanding you to wait until he was ready to fill you to the brim with his own milky essence. His lips trailed down your neck nipping at the skin with his teeth and giving a gentle squeeze that made your sight go white with a rainbow of stars for a moment. 

“Yong, please.”

“Hold on, baby,” he kept saying, gasping the more he did. His thrusts were growing sloppy and forced the longer he went, his grip on your body hardening. With his forehead on your shoulder, he managed to utter a quick, “I’m almost there,” before grunting loudly.

THe last of his thrusts were the hardest and deepest, his cock lingering inside your wet pussy as he released. His milky seed spilled into you in bursts of warmth, painting your inner walls in the creamy white substance. His release sent your own into a fit of spasms, your walls tightening and convulsing around his length. They hugged at his thick shaft, coating it in your release while milking his own. Taeyong’s movements slowed to a gentle rhythm, letting your two forms meld into one against the wall and your cum mixing together deep inside of you.

Fingers pressed against the side of your face, tilting your head to the side. Your hazy gaze landed on the deep brown irises of Taeyong, a warm smile on his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, remaining buried deep inside of you as he pressed a firm and loving kiss to your lips, conveying every ounce of love he felt into the connection. The frozen droplets of water did nothing to you against the heat of your bodies and the smoldering kiss you shared. 

And as his lips dragged down against yours, you couldn’t help but to smile.

With your body dried and dressed in onee of Taeyong’s baggy, long-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, you walked into the living room, headed for the kitchen. As you opened the fridge to find something to make for dinner, two arms wrapped around your form, a giggle erupting from your lips. Taeyong snuggled into your neck, lifting you off your feet and kicking the fridge shut.

“Taeyong, no! I’m hungry!” you scowled through a laugh, flailing in the man’s arms. Your actions proved futile, Taeyong carrying you to the couch and falling on his back atop it, placing you on his lap. 

“I know. But I wanted to spend some more time with you,” he pouted, the look adorable in your opinion. His fingers played with the hem of the shirt you wore, dipping under it to trace his fingers along your side. “Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you joked, leaning forward to place a butterfly kiss to his nose. 

Taeyong sent you a shimmering smile, pulling you into a harder kiss. His tongue bypassed your lips instantly, the kiss growing hotter by the second. Your eyes slipped closed, your body eagerly rolling against his. A deep groan was muffled in his throat, hands pushing desperately at your shirt until your chest was exposed. That was the only time he broke the kiss - so he could attach his lips to your perk nipples, tongue flicking them happily.

“Tae,” you moaned loudly. 

You pushed against his chest to sit upright, rolling against him harder and faster. Your jeans pushed into your aching core, feeling his growing hard on through his own pair of black denim bottoms. His hands gripped at your chest, hooded eyes watching you grind against him. Your eyes slid shut, head falling back as his name left your mouth.

“Tae,” you whimpered, cracking open your eyes and turning to look at him. But your movements slowed, much to his dismay. The male under you whimpered and pushed up into you, eager to continue. “Taeyong, what is that?”

The mafia leader ceased his movements, propping himself up on his elbows and turning to follow your gaze. His brow creased at the flashing blue and red lights that reflected slightly on the window.

“The fuck?” he murmured, moving you from his lap and rushing to the window. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”

“The cops?” you whispered to yourself, eying the man you love. Before you could question him more, muffled gunshots could be heard through the building. 

Taeyong was quick to rush to the door, grabbing a gun on the way and sliding on his shoes. You jumped up after him, stumbling as you pulled on your own shoes and following after him. The noise in the hallway was louder than in the penthouse, screaming and shouting growing louder as your bounded down the stairwell. Exhaustion was setting in from the numerous stairs you rushed down, but neither of you stopped.

“Taeyong, wait!” you called at the man who refused to slow down. “Don’t rush in there! You could get hurt!”

Seething with anger, he didn’t listen, pushing open the door to the ground floor as soon as he hit the bottom step. You barely could register someone yelling Taeyong’s name and a shot being fired before he was stumbling back, a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain, pulling his hand back to see the crimson blood coating his fingers. 

“Baby, are you alright?” you asked, pulling him further from the door and seating him on the steps of the stairwell. Your own hand trembled, placed on his and feeling the blood slide between your fingers. “Shit, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he grimaced, wincing while adjusting how he was sitting. 

“You’re far from, sir,” you told him, ripping off one of the sleeve of the shirt you wore and wrapping it around his arm. “This will help for now but…”

“It’s fine,” he said again. “We need to get out there and meet with the others. I saw them briefly when I opened the door.”

“But what if they shoot again?” you asked, your voice meek.

“I will protect you,” he said, letting out a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay low and you’re going to go left. Jaehyun and Yuta are behind the reception desk.”

“Alright,” you let out. 

“Don’t worry. I will be right behind you.”

Nodding, you cracked open the door, crouching low. The flashing of the police vehicles was brighter when you entered the lobby, finding the once beautiful area destroyed. Dead bodies of the staff that were employed by the NCT mafia to man their building were laid in various areas of the room, blood pooling around their unfortunate bodies after being caught in the crossfire. Furniture was ridden with bullet holes, upholstery exposed, and tables and desks having their wood flaked and chipped. 

Jaehyun was quick to aid you, pulling you behind the front desk before helping Taeyong over. Yuta, Jungwoo and Mark were with him, heavily breathing and reloading their guns with the limited ammo they had. 

“What the hell is going on?” Taeyong snarled at no one in particular. 

“The cops, obviously,” Yuta cheekily joked, his laughter ceased with Taeyong’s glare.

“Obviously,” came the leader’s retort. “Did the police say anything?”

“No,” Mark told him, leaning against the desk. “I can only assume we were ratted out after what happened earlier.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taeyong yelled. “Shit!”

“Yong, calm down,” you told him, taking his shaking hand. This seemed to calm him slightly.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Already sent off to the escape tunnels,” Jungwoo mumbled, eyes darting to a wall to the right. Taeyong had told you of the secret passage for escape in case of emergencies. “We told them that we would hold them off so they could get to the cars and escape.”

Taeyong nodded, running a hand through his red locks. His mouth opened, only to be silenced by the squeal of a microphone outside.

“This is the Seoul Police. We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to fire!”

The boys seemed adamant on fighting, telling you to stay down as they opened fire at the door and windows, the police firing back with each shot. The ring of the shots made your head hurt, your hands cupping your ears in an attempt to shield them. Your eyes squeezed closed, curling in on yourself and only hoping that a stray shot didn’t hit anyone. 

When the firing came to a stop, and the boys ducked down, thankfully unharmed, they were all cursing. Jaehyun pushed at the desk, dropping his now empty gun.

“We’re fucked,” he growled, ruffling his dark locks. 

“No,” Taeyong said firmly. “You guys go and escape. I will keep them distracted.”

“What, no-” Yuta began to protest, but Taeyong shook his head.

“I’m your leader. I swore to protect you all. I will go down fighting for my family.”

Yuta, Jungwoo, Mark and Jaehyun nodded, Marking peering around the desk. “We have a chance now. They aren’t looking in that way. If we can make it to the passage, we’re fine.”

“Good, then go,” Taeyong ordered, turning to look at you. “You need to go with them.”

“No,” you firmly said. 

“That wasn’t an offer, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed. “Please, I need you to go. I need you to be safe-”

“I know it wasn’t an offer. I know what you’re thinking, but my answer is still no. I told you a long time ago when I learned what you do that I would be by your side until the end. I will be by your side until death do us part. I’m not leaving you to handle this on your own, Lee Taeyong. If you go down, I’m going with you.”

“Y/N,” he started, glancing at the others. They all held looks of concern, but chose to say nothing when their leader nodded hesitantly. The four men gave you a soft look before they darted for the passageway, the wall sliding open and closed quickly, their forms gone.

Taeyong sighed, leaning his back against the desk. He took the gun from his jeans that he grabbed on his way out of the penthouse, checking the ammo he had. “Not much left, eh?”

“Never thought this would be the end, did you?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Taeyong smiled for a second before becoming serious. 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

Together you stood, lifting your hands as you walked towards the door. You spied the barrel of guns aimed at you as you stopped at the door, staring down the cops. Their words fell deaf on your ears waiting for Taeyong to pull the gun and proceed with his last hurrah. Your heart was pounding, hands clammy.

This was the end. 

Just as Taeyong reached for his gun, smoke filled the area, shouts and screams and shots firing around the blinded area. Taeyong gripped your hand, tugging you back into the lobby of the building. He rushed towards the secret passage holding your hand tightly. As the wall slid open, he turned back to the doorway, spotting a figure in dark blue with a gas mask on watching them. You turned to follow his gaze, spotting the figure gesture before disappearing into the smoke.

“Who was that?” you asked quietly.

Taeyong pushed against the small of your back to force you into the passage, the wall sliding shut behind him. “Heechul.”

“Who’s that?”

“Our older brother mafia,” Taeyong hummed, smiling giddily. “Super Junior.”

“They came to our rescue?”

“Yeah,” the leader mumbled. “The others must have called them as soon as it was safe.”

“Well, I’m glad then…”

Taeyong chuckled, pulling you into a hug despite the pain he felt in his injured arm. His face nestled into your hair, a low sob escaping his throat. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“We’re both safe.”

“Well, not yet I guess,” Taeyong said. “We need to go. Now.”

“Alright…”

Taeyong took your hand once more, the two of you running down the darkened hall, hoping that nothing would find you at the end.

~

You hummed a song softly, staring out a crack in the window at the barren road in front of the motel. Your fingers ran soothingly through the dyed black locks of your lover, who was curled up in your lap. Turning to look down at him, your own dyed locks fell against your cheeks, ticking his nose. A smile grew on his face, eyes remaining closed. 

You had taken refuge in a small motel far from the city, waiting for things to die down. The boys were scattered and in hiding, just like yourselves. Disposable phones were the only way to keep in contact to make sure everyone was safe still. There was no telling how long you were to live like this, but you didn’t mind it. 

“Y/N,” Taeyong sang, finally opening his chocolate colored orbs to look up at you. “I love you.”

He took your hand that was previously resting on his chest into his, playing  with the square cut diamond ring you wore. It was the same one he took from the shop that day. A few days after your escape, after Taeyong had been patched up for his injury by the Super Junior mafia and everyone separated for protection, going into hiding, he pulled out the box from his jeans pocket. 

“I was going to propose with this that night. I had everything planned - a nice dinner, a big speech, and a night to make love to you - but it all got fucked up. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me,” he had said while laying in bed, fiddling with the box. 

“You’re stupid if you think after all of this that I would say no and leave you. Till death do we part, remember?”

You happily wore the ring still, never once taking it off since he slid it on your finger. It wasn’t your ideal proposal, but you weren’t going to argue if it meant you got to be with him. Watching him fiddle with it now, a grin on his soft, handsome features, left your heart fluttering. 

“I love you too, Lee Taeyong,” you hummed. “And remember, I will always be by your side.”

“Partners until the end?” He asked. You smiled leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Naturally.”

[notchesandbullets]

Misunderstanding (Husband!Jae-ha x Wife!Reader)

"Jae-ha, could you please pass me the roasted duck?"

You were surprised when he flat out ignored you, choosing to drift over towards Yona. Raising an eyebrow, you slid over to where Yoon was watching the whole thing. He looked just as confused as you.

The Happy Hungry Bunch was spread out around an empty field, lounging around while the pretty boy genius cooked up some dinner. Jae-ha went off with Yona and you suppressed a sigh. Lately, he had become more and more distant with you, and it was starting to drive you a little crazy.

You both were young, even though he was older than you. A lot of people said your marriage wasn't going to last, but you didn't care and you thought he didn't either. Now, you were having second thoughts, the insecurities getting the best of you as you watched him flirt with Yona.

You knew that was just his nature, and that it was harmless. Mostly. But it still sent a turmoil of conflicting emotions inside of you, and you were unsure if you should even be feeling this way.

You pushed up off your feet, wiping your dirty hands on a damp cloth. Yoon gazed at you worriedly as you turned away from them, trailing after where Jae-ha and Yona had disappeared.

A giggle floated through the air, enabling you to find them easily. You crossed your arms and leaned against a tree, staring at them with narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me, Yona, may I talk to him for a moment?"

Yona nodded, just about to leave when Jae-ha stopped her.

"Why do you want her to go?" He questioned, mistrust swirling in the depths of his eyes.

Both your and Yona's eyes went wide with shock. He never took this tone with you.

"I would just like to talk to you for a moment in private, Jae-ha." You picked your words carefully. You didn't know why, but he looked ready to explode at any second. You had no idea why he was so angry.

"She can stay here."

Yona let out a squeak as Jae-ha tugged her back to his side, unprepared for the sudden jostle. A beat later, she was freed by none other than the Thunder Beast.

"Keep your hands off of her." He glared, making the threat obvious.

"Then don't touch what's mine!!" Jae-ha snarled.

At this point, you were completely confused and starting to get mad. "Jae-ha, you aren't making any sense."

"No?!?!" He thundered, whipping around to face you. You had never seen him this angry and it was terrifying. "You think I'm making this up!!"

You huffed. "That's not what I said."

"Yeah?! Well it sure sounds like it!!" His hands flailed in the air in frustration, and you instinctively whimpered, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

He didn't notice the change in your demeanor, but someone else did.

"Droopy-Eyes, knock it off."

Jae-ha turned on him, kicking him harshly in the abdomen. Hak had been ready for it, but it still knocked the wind out of him. Jae-ha reached for Yona again, but that was a mistake.

He was shoved back harshly and Hak brandished his glaive with a feral gleam in his eyes.

"Touch her again. I dare you."

Jae-ha let out a growl. "You can't have them both!!"

You were shocked. You had never seen him like this before. You had never seen either one of them like this, they looked ready to rip each other apart at a moment's notice.

You couldn't stand it any more. You didn't want to fight.

You let out a quiet, reserved sigh. "Jae-ha... it's okay..."

His head whipped towards you and you took step back at the red aura emitting from him.

"Okay?!?! That's all you have to say?!" He yelled at you, continuing to raise his volume despite the way you flinched back, not registering your fear through the red haze. All he could think about was how he couldn't believe you didn't trust him, after all this time together.

After everything you've been through.

You had both saved each other from a life of despair and hopelessness. You brought out the light in him, and he brought peace to you.

You never thought things would come crashing down around you like this. Least of all, now, when it was so critical that your group stayed together.

Quickly, you walked away, praying that he wouldn't follow you. Today wasn't your lucky day. He stormed after you, completely furious with the way you were talking to him, how you were treating him.

"Stay away from her." Zeno demanded, no longer in the mood for games.

"You can't tell me what to do. She's my wife." Jae-ha declared.

Shin-ah stubbornly shook his head. The snarl painted on his features was nothing to take lightly. "Stay... away."

The low tenor shocked everyone, but Jae-ha wasn't deterred. "You can't keep me from her."

Hak stepped up aggressively. "Yes, we can. She's terrified of you right now. We're going to make sure she's alright before we let you anywhere near her."

At this point, Jae-ha finally took in your trembling appearance and he froze. The tears that stained your cheeks and your knocking knees hit him dead in the heart.

You were afraid. Of him.

Jae-ha couldn't believe he let it get this far. He ran into the tent you two shared as you were escorted away by the blue and yellow dragon.

Hak pushed back the flap of the tent once morning came. Jae-ha hadn't made an appearance once after yesterday's fiasco, and it was time to figure out just what was going on.

"Droopy-Eyes, what the hell were you thinking?"

As furious as he was for making you cry, he knew there was something else going on.

The green dragon might have been older, but over time, the former general had learned to read him like a book. There was something bothering him.

He was right.

Ryokuryuu was crouched on the ground, his back slumped and shoulders stiff.

Hak wouldn't be surprised if he had stayed like that throughout the night.

Jae-ha breathed out a heavy sigh, finally confessing, "I thought you guys were cheating on each other behind my back. I wanted to protect Yona, and maybe get back at you. Because no matter how much it hurts, I still love her."

Hak narrowed his eyes and then frowned.

"You're an idiot."

Jae-ha sputtered at the insult, but he wasn't finished. "You honestly think that we're sleeping together? Even though you're probably the only one who understands the depth of my feelings for Yona?"

Jea-ha was floundering to come up with a response.

"But you two have been spending a lot of time together, and yesterday at the market, you spent the entire day together. It's the first day she didn't fall asleep in my arms."

Hak crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes exasperatedly, a blush settling across his cheeks.

"Jae-ha, she was helping me pick out a ring for Yona. She was helping me figure out how to propose." Hak explained quietly. "I wanted it to be perfect for her."

Jae-ha's jaw dropped to the floor, speechless.

"B-But— Y-You... I-I-I—"

"Yeah, yeah," Hak brushed off his excuses. "Just go apologize to her, will you? She's been crying all night."

Jae-ha left without a second thought and the ex-general followed soon after.

Your head was laying in Zeno's lap, and he was stroking your hair softly. Shin-ah was positioned near you, keeping watching out for any unwanted guests. His legs were criss-crossed, and Ao's fluffy tail was brushing under his ear once in a while.

When Shin-ah abruptly jumped to his feet, you knew something was wrong. Zeno's carefree expression was wiped off of his face and his eyes narrowed as the blue dragon snarled the second your husband cautiously entered the tent.

He at least had the decency to look apologetic, but you stiffly turned away from him, not ready to forgive him. His shoulders slumped and Shin-ah nearly growled. "Get out."

"Wait, please." Jae-ha begged. "Y/N."

"The miss doesn't want to see you right now." Zeno's voice had a light lilt to it, but there was an underlying warning that came with it.

"Y/N." Jae-ha whispered brokenly.

Your eyes softened, and you slowly turned around. Shin-ah looked about ready to throw Ryokuryuu out of the tent himself, but you shuffled towards him, pulling on his pant leg to get his attention.

"Shin-ah, Zeno, it's alright. Can you two give us a minute?"

The two dragons reluctantly left the tent, Zeno shooting you a worried glance but you offered him a reassuring smile.

Jae-ha settled down across from you, with respectable distance.

Your face was blank, but your eyes were puffy and the skin around it was rubbed red.

You had been crying.

He felt awful. He jumped to conclusions, and wrongfully accused you of things you didn't do.

"I don't deserve you."

Your head snapped up at his defeated tone.

"What?"

Jae-ha shook his head in regret. "I thought you and Hak were..."

You recoiled back in shock. "W-What?! No, you got it all wrong!! He's going to marry Yona, I was—"

He closed the distance between the two of you, cupping your jaw tenderly. Soft breaths fanned out against your face and warmed your skin soothingly.

"I know, I know. Hak told me what you were doing." Your eyes fluttered closed in relief. "I'm so sorry for assuming the worst."

Your hands reached up to cradle his face. "Come to me next time." You pleaded. "Talk to me."

He nodded furiously, finally pulling you in a tight embrace.

Relaxing in his hold, you didn't hear them come in.

"Yay!!" Zeno cheered.

"Is everything okay?"

Yona's worried voice floated through the air, breaking the two of you apart. You smiled at your husband, weaving your fingers together.

"Yeah... we're alright now."

Jae-ha leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss and you melted against him.

Yona cooed at the display and Hak pretended to barf.

"Lunchtime, you rare beasts!!" Yoon shouted from outside.

One by one, the dragons, the princess, her bodyguard all filed out of your tent obediently. As he dished out the portions, you shared a look with Jae-ha as Hak fumbled with Yona's bowl.

It would be awhile before he got down on one knee, since their journey took precedence, but you couldn't wait to see it.

After all, You thought to yourself as Jae-ha pulled you against his chest, curling his arms securely around your waist. Despite its ups and downs, marriage is worth it.

[shirophic]

close nights | mm!naegiri fic

here’s the mastermind!naegiri fic i promised  BAAHAHAHA VERY INSPIRED BY SONGS AND THERES A FAMILIAR QUOTE AT THE END IM PRETTY SURE MOST OF YALL HAVE HEARD ngl i feel like it went too quick but honestly idc give me feedback warnings: mentions of death, blood, stabbing, major character deaths

The night was cold, colder than usual.

Kyoko Kirigiri entered the security room, sighing as she sat down in the cool, blue chair. As she scanned her eyes across all the different cameras, quite a few things were on her mind. The 4th trial had ended, with alter ego’s death replaying in the minds of the students. Despair rotted within the students as fear shook them. Alter ego was their only hope, and now they were crushed.

Kirigiri watched as Asahina sobbed in her pillow, Hagakure trying to calm himself down, Togami reading as if nothing happened, Fukawa having a panic attack... Kirigiri bored her eyes into each of the footage from the cameras. Careful trying not to miss anything. Up until she reached a certain CCTV footage caught her eye. 

A boy holding up a sign. The boy was Makoto Naegi, Ultimate Lucky Student. Kirigiri knew better than that, she was the Ultimate Detective for a reason. She knew that talent was a deception, after all, what kind of talent is the “Ultimate Lucky Student”?

Kirigiri knew his real ultimate was despair, a sickening depth of darkness, tearing down others. 

To put it down to simpler words, It was his specialty.

Kirigiri never really understood the reason for despair. Sure, without despair there is no hope, but what was the real meaning behind it? Her ultimate was the Ultimate Detective, aren’t detectives supposed to be fighting against despair in the name of hope? Oh well, she was pretty much forced into this.

Turning her attention back to the green-eyed boy, she noticed there were words on the sign, with a grinning Naegi as he tried to stand tall enough to show the message.

“What an idiot. How did he become the Ultimate Despair again?”

The sign said “Come meet me in our special spot! Wear something pretty!” with a lopsided smiley face.

Once holding it for about 10 more seconds, he ran with the sign. Kirigiri had no idea what he had stored in that deceptive of a mind, but probably something not good.

- - -

As Kirigiri strode over to their “special place” Naegi was setting up something. Something like a room filled with candles and roses.

Rose petals and rose vines adorned the walls and floors. Candles were set up as yellow light shown in the darkness. Vodka and other drinks were lined up on a table, all set up for the night. Sure, it was cheesy, but something he put too much effort in. About a minute passed until Kirigiri arrived, Naegi staggered to fix his tie and suit, waiting at the entrance. As he looked up to meet with her eyes, he paused in amazement.

Kirigiri was wearing a deep purple dress that went just above her ankles with long gloves. Purple heels allowed her to have a little more height against Naegi. And her hair was up in a ponytail, with a purple bow to match. In all words, she was stunning. Naegi stood there agape as he looked at Kirigiri (respectfully of course.)

“Well? Are you just going to stand there looking like a reincarnation of Kuwata’s hair? Or are you going to explain what this is?” smirked Kirigiri, Naegi could have sworn he saw Kirigiri blush.

“Ah yes of course..” Mumbled Naegi as he looked down. “I.. I wanted us to take some time alone with each other, seeing as we get too caught up with the killing game and making sure none of them finds out about… about us..” spoke Naegi, softly.

Kirigiri’s smirk softened, seeing a side she saw many times, but not like this. Was this a confession? Perhaps a prank? She had known the boy for far too long to just not expect this wasn’t one of his other little pranks.

“Well then… In that case, let us take some time with each other.”

With that, Naegi and Kirigiri spent time talking and letting out their struggles. “It’s hard to keep track of what I've said and what I've not! It’s like I have to create a mental script..”

“You.. don’t have a mental script?” “You do!?”

As the night went on, Naegi played some music.

“Oh.. Isn’t this Lacrimosa?” questioned Kirigiri.

“Yea! Sometimes it calms me down when times are rough for me,” exclaimed Naegi.

Kirigiri didn’t respond as she looked like she was lost in thought.

“You’re thinking about your past again, aren’t you?” whispered Naegi.

Kirigiri turned to glance at Naegi, a stoic but slightly saddened expression on her face, “You.. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself perfectly fine, just some… memories.”

Naegi examined Kirigiri for a while before standing up and lending Kirigiri his hand.

“Hey, I’m no doctor or therapist but, maybe a waltz will get it off your mind,” suggested Naegi.

Kirigiri opened her mouth for a bit, but completely drew a blank. Eventually, she surrendered and took Naegi’s hand.

They danced to Lacrimosa until it came upon an end.

Naegi slightly lifted his head to Kirigiri’s lavender eyes, yet couldn’t make out what was in them, sadness? Regret? Anger? He’ll never know.

-

Kirigiri had many thoughts as she slowly danced with Naegi, but she held them off for the time being, as they both wanted time together. And she didn’t want her depressing thoughts to ruin it.

-

Kirigiri and Naegi made eye contact as their thoughts disappeared, only focusing on each other now.

-

Kirigiri suddenly stopped, being aware of her surroundings and what she was doing - dancing. And with whom she was dancing with. “I.. Don’t you think it’s a bit… well, late for this?” Kirigiri questioned, “I wouldn’t want to be caught, god knows what they’re up to…” Naegi paused and chuckled for a bit. “We’re the ones in charge, aren’t we? Where is their god now?” Kirigiri looked down, not saying anything. “Where is their god now?” typical Naegi…” “if you don’t want to do this right now, why not grab a drink with me?” Kirigiri looked at Naegi with slight amusement, “why the niceties now?” but gave in, as her throat ached with thirst.

Naegi laughed quietly, then led Kirigiri to the food and drinks stand. Naegi grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured 

“Hm, don’t you think we’re too young to be drinking?” “We’re 18 now, did you forget? Oh yea, Junko erased your memories as well.”

Kirigiri got lost in thought as she remembered the previous ultimate despair Junko Enoshima was the previous despair. Keyword: previous. Naegi and Enoshima had been partners for quite a while, a feared duo. After “The Tragedy” and after class 78 got converted to a new school for a safe shelter, Enoshima and Naegi were already putting their plan into action. They made sure everything was sealed and “safe” and after about a year, Enoshima forced them into the killing game. Unbeknownst to the other 15 students, Naegi was also in this plan from behind the scenes. And after the first death (Ikusaba), Naegi and Enoshima got into a fight.

- - -

An angry Naegi burst through the doors of the security room, opening to a gleeful-looking Enoshima.

Naegi never had any thoughts on Ikusaba, she was just another pawn in Enoshima’s plan. But she always had to make things complicated for him.

“Enoshima!” Naegi yelled, “How could you just let Ikusaba die like that? Do you know how risky that was.. If they found out-”

“Which they won’t, honestly Naegi you’re too paranoid,” Enoshima said unbothered. “And If they did I’m sure you can just kill them off like a fly.” 

Naegi had a dark look on his face, “And what would be the explanation for that? Tell me.”

“I-”

“Oh! Togami just pissed me off! So I killed him in cold blood, upupupupu!”

Enoshima took a stand, an annoyed look displayed on her face. 

“Look Naegi, if you’re just going to argue about the past, fuck off, it can’t be changed and you know that.”

Naegi quietly chuckled, which turned into full-on laughter.

“AHA- HAHAHAHA, you think I’m just going to accept giving up like that? Well unbeknownst to you, Enoshima, I have a few cards up my sleeve as well..”

Naegi swiftly threw a card at Enoshima’s face, giving a fresh cut to her cheek. Enoshima looked at Naegi in disbelief, gently touching her face.

“H- How dare you,” Enoshima said, bewildered.

Naegi looked at her in amusement, “Was that not entertaining for you enough, Enoshima?”

Enoshima growled, spitting at Naegi. 

“Fuck you,”

“Pay me.”

Naegi quickly moved behind Enoshima, slicing the back of her neck, then putting her up against the wall with a knife under her chin, complimenting her facial features.

“Well now, the shorty finally decided to grow some balls, huh?” Enoshima teased, wincing as the cut behind her neck burned.

“You know damn well I grew some balls ever since I even started our little plan. Have a nice time in hell, Enoshima.” Naegi sneered, looking up at the despair twin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be saving you a seat.”

Naegi then sliced her neck, pink blood dripping from the knife and onto Naegi’s hand.

Naegi hummed, dropping Enoshima on the floor, disgust filling his senses. “As much as I love bringing people into despair, the stench of blood is disgusting.”

Naegi then washed his hands and ordered monokuma to clean the mess up before heading towards his dorm room, pretending as if nothing happened.

- - -

“Hello? Earth to Kirigiri?” Naegi waved his hand in front of Kirigiri’s face.

Kirigiri was brung back into reality, realization striking her that she was lost in thought. 

“O-oh, Naegi. Sorry, I was lost in thought… again.” Kirigiri said rather embarrassingly, glanced at the shot she was holding, and gulped it down.

“It’s okay Kirigiri,” Naegi spoke as he had doubt in his eyes. He then took a shot, shaking his head.

“Hey Kirigiri, I know I invited you here myself but, there’s another place I wanna show you, care to join me?”

Kirigiri pondered for a minute, should she really go with a murderer who killed the ultimate despair only just to become the ultimate despair himself? Kirigiri sighed, he couldn’t kill her because of her secret anyways. Kirigiri remembered how desperate he was to know the secret.

- - -

(beginning of chapter 3)

Naegi whined as he followed Kirigiri around pleading. 

“Oh Kirigiri pleaaase!” he begged, “Let me know your secret!”

Kirigiri stopped and looked at Naegi, “why do you want to learn my secret so much?”

Naegi scoffed, “Well obviously because you’ve mentioned it once before and never told me! I thought I was your best friend..”

Kirigiri shook her head and continued to walk towards the physics lab, a click in her steps.

- - -

Oh well, it’s not like she has much of a choice.

Kirigiri sighed and followed Naegi, hoping that it would mean something good.

- - -

Naegi led Kirigiri up to the roof of the school, looking back from tie to time with a smile on his face.

Once on the roof, Naegi invited Kirigiri to sit down. The area was outgrown, plants growing everywhere. Fires all around the building, blazes and flames of fire all around the base of the school, the sun setting with a red aura.

Smoke filling Kirigiri's senses, she coughed. “W-Where are we Naegi?” she said as she looked at Naegi. Naegi’s face was lightened with red, orange, and yellow hues as he grinned down upon the world, eyes sparkling with delight.

“We’re.. We’re at the top of the world,” Naegi smiled.

Kirigiri glanced at Naegi with a confused expression but stoic eyes as she looked Naegi up and down.

“Quit the act, why did you bring me here?” Kirigiri demanded.

Naegi turned around, surprised. “Kirigiri, I just wanted to spend time with yo-”

“Stop, I know you’re lying to me. Spit it out.”

Naegi sighed with an annoyed tone and looked Kirigiri directly in the eye.

“I want to know your secret.”

Kirigiri was disappointed, but not surprised. Naegi was an awfully ambitious person and would go to extraordinary heights to get what he wanted, but Kirigiri was awfully stubborn.

“And exactly why should I tell you? For all I know, you could kill me instantly after.” Kirigiri doubted.

“Well for one, you can get out alive!” Naegi laughed, “But you’re not getting away this easily, Kirigiri.”

Kirigiri carefully examined the options she had; A: make a run for it, B: punch him and run, C: tell him and live. She knew with plans A and B he could easily either send monokuma after her or just kill her himself. And with plan C he could also be lying. So in all, it’s a win-lose situation.

Kirigiri sighed and made up her mind.

“I’m not telling you, whether you kill me or not. And besides, even you don’t know the secrets of this school, you need me.”

Naegi examined her closely again, then swiftly took out knives, throwing them all at Kirigiri. Which she dodged them all, even catching one. She threw the knife aside and stepped forward towards Naegi.

“You know you need me, you can’t do anything without me. Give up.”

Naegi growled, “shut up, shut up, shut up!”

With a few knives cutting Kirigiri’s dress and skin, she fell on the ground, backing away from Naegi.

She winced in pain as she looked up at Naegi, her vision blurring as she tried to make out what to do. Naegi stopped in front of her, playing with the knife in his hands before kneeling down in front of her face, lifting her chin up with the knife.

“You know Kirigiri, you’re an intelligent person with lots of room for improvement. I never wanted to come to this conclusion, but if you’re not going to work with me here, we’re going to have a problem.” threatened Naegi.

Kirigiri glared up at Naegi, keeping full eye contact.

“I’m not giving in, no matter what little tricks you have in store.”

Naegi rolled his eyes in annoyance, then putting his knife hard against her neck, “if you oblige, I’ll make your death quick and painless, if you don’t - well then you’re gonna have a fun time suffering.”

Kirigiri stared at Naegi in silence watching as her blood dripped down from her neck and onto everywhere.

Naegi then grew tired of waiting and sliced Kirigiri’s throat leaving her dead blank face the last expression she’ll ever make again.

He then stood up and started walking towards the exit down back to the school, when he heard something.

“I-Ikusaba… she’s alive, an…” Naegi whipped around, anxious, as he urged Kirigiri to continue. “And… she’s o-out for you..”

Naegi was stunned into silence. Ikusaba.. was alive? And she wanted vengeance? Naegi was very confused about this whole proposition. This was Kirigiri’s secret? Naegi then looked at Kirigiri again waiting for more information. But to no avail, Kirigiri’s eyes rid of the light and grew dead.

Naegi then started pacing around, wondering what to do next. Should he try to find Ikusaba? Should he kill Ikusaba once and for all? Should he-

Naegi was then interrupted by a figure in the shadows. He turned around to look who it is, but he couldn’t make out who it was until they stepped into the light.

“Naegi,” a cool monotone voice spoke, “We meet again.”

The figure then stepped into the light - a face known too well.

Mukuro Ikusaba. The other despair twin. Also known as the ultimate soldier. The last time Naegi and Ikusaba met was when they were putting the plan into action and putting the students in the classrooms. After that they barely interacted.

Naegi knew Ikusaba was dangerous. Her talent gave it away, after all. She knew tons of different strategies, and while Enoshima liked to say that the strategies were hers’ - spoiler alert: they were not.

Turning back to reality, Naegi began thinking of different tactics to well ah, slaughter his close friend.

Ikusaba read Naegi like a book, and took out her dagger - to which Naegi replied to taking his own out as well.

“Impressive, I saw what you did with Kirigiri. You’ve worked on your reflexes.” complimented Ikusaba. “But you’re no match for me.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Alright, let’s dance.”

[rosyk]

Deja vu

pairing: bang chan x reader, (a bit of han jisung x reader)

genre: heavy angst, passion, romance, one-sided love, bestfriends, long distance relationship

warnings: light curses, death, depression, mentions of alcohol and drugs, family problems, mentions of forced sexual activity, insecurities, anxiety, etc. (Its quite detailed in the first part and could trigger some people in these type and if you are one of them, I advice you not to read. It can really be uncomfortable on the first part)

word count: 11.5k

inspiration: Before We Knew It ch. 36-38 (webtoon), White Flowers- Olivia Rodrigo (unreleased song)

a/n: This is the least fic I loved but I had to continue it to start a new one and i won’t ever write things as long as this (it’s hard) lol. I don’t know who’ll ever read this long and cringey story but I hope it’s worth your time (?)

1

  If I were to describe a man I’d love to marry someday, it would be someone tall, doesn’t openly show their true feelings towards me, and leads me in life. However, you were the exact opposite of it.

I didn’t even know when and why I fell in love with you. Was it at first sight? No. Was it because someone told me about my indistinguishable feelings for you? No. It was like how love was portrayed in novels and books. I just knew it. Instead of leading my life, you made me, myself, want to lead and search for my future. After you happily talked about your passion for music, you made me feel as if you were the right one. It made me think, “Maybe I do want to be with him until the end of life”. I believe something great would occur and I want to be there when that happens. When the music he produces, raps he created, genres he invented, and when his voice reaches the world, I want to be on his side and be proud I was able to witness all of that. You were everything in times I was the “nothing”.

I truly wished to be a singer right from the start. My dream was unaccepted by my family because the job isn’t as stable as it seems. I had to study medicine since then. Therefore seeing you was like seeing how I could’ve been. I stopped my passion but you made me pursue the unpursued, break off the imaginary limits I had created in my mind. I developed a fear of having to try again. I never sang after years and tried to let go of my past. But you? You lifted me away from the cage of darkness I trapped myself in. My anxiety was too deep to the point I was afraid of people, nightmares, thoughts, happiness, living, being alone, home, and simply just everything.

Even I was scared of myself.

  Then I knew this is the worst a person could be. It isn’t when someone takes drugs, drinks alcohol, or flees away from home. It is when he or she no longer wants to take a step forward. I was frightened by the idea of love but also the idea of being alone. I was terrified to open up when the people closest to me never understood but was scared when I keep everything to myself too much up until I’m tired. I feared death the most, how much more if I was living? I remember cutting myself in bed when I overheard my parents fighting because of my presence. I was shaking, desperately trying to suppress my weeping. Was I sad because I didn’t have good childhood memories I could reminisce? Or was I happy for myself because that was the bravest thing I did? I was too young to understand what I truly felt but I didn’t regret a single thing.

I know the difference between wrong and right but why can’t I tell when it comes to situations that involve me? Is it wrong to think it would’ve been best if I was sleeping forever, in a depth of endless time even though I know I should live for a purpose I couldn’t find or for people who don’t care? But is it also right to live and hope miserably someone out there would find and help me even though it means staying and coping with the pain? Whenever I make a decision, I could hear trapped voices rambling in my head, time ticking as fast as my heartbeat, my soul pressuring me, and my mind that creates negative scenarios which cause me to step back before even having the chance to run. In general, I’ve had to overthink my overthinking.

I also have the habit of blaming myself. As deeper as it goes, it became my lifestyle then. I blamed myself for playing the victim as if I was the only one hurting amidst the world. I blamed myself for crying when I had no right because I gave people terrible occurrences.  I blamed myself for the inability to be brave and commit what I feared the most. I also blamed myself for silently not crying loud enough to the point that my facade turned out stronger.

Looking back, I was a total mess in which I couldn’t even call myself human. My only best friends were the mirror and my own shadow. I was 10 so I appreciated how the mirror felt the same feelings as mine. It doesn’t laugh when I cry even though the creatures surrounding me do. But for the same reason, I hated it. It reflects my despair, how horrible I looked causing me to despise it the most. My shadow on the other hand makes me feel I’m not alone at the end of the day. But I also despised it the moment my mom locked me up in my room, isolating me in darkness to forget all the traumas I had given her. Because even the shadow disappears in my darkest hours. And just like friends, it all just ended. I no longer want to feel love if love was meant to hurt.

  Years of living in hell passed by, until you came.

“You okay?”

  I was crying at the staircase in the nearest tunnel found at school. I was a 16-year-old who tried to break away from my dad’s drunken behavior. Running away was another brave thing I did but it was because the thought of him doing me was scary enough.

It was embarrassing to let you see me like this but surprise was the first reaction I had. No one ever dared to approach me because of my low status and the suspicious silence that I give. Questions filled my head as to why you bothered talking to me. Were the rumors unbelievable enough?

“I am new here but I haven’t seen you a lot in school. Are you the same as I am?”

So he’s a transferee. Honestly speaking, I was discouraged. It’s clear that he would slowly stop approaching me as soon as he knew the rumors. You introduced yourself and asked for my name. I gave you a silent treatment causing you to face my direction. We stared at each other for minutes. You finally gave up and sat beside me as I turned my gaze back at the people playing in the park, sighing heavily.

“Would you like to hear my life?” You look at me, expecting something. I turned back at you, both eyebrows raised. You showed your smile, with those little cute dimples on each side to get away from the awkward atmosphere. Trust me when I tell you that was the brightest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life. Maybe you did show me the colors I didn’t know I needed in my life.

“Oh… I guess you don’t then? I mean why would you be interested right?” You laughed yourself off but as usual, expected some remarks from me. My eyes panicked as I shook my head quickly from side to side. My eyebrows creased as I bit my lip, hoping you understood what I meant.

“So you do want to hear it?” I shook my head up and down as an approval of your question. Unnoticeably, it was the first time I felt eager especially when it comes to humans.

“Isn’t it annoying though?” I got the hint you wanted to tease me considering your giggles but I was too caught up in assumptions that you wouldn’t continue your storytelling. Thus, I did the same thing, turning my head from side to side, trying to convince you that I desperately want to know what happens in the lives of some.

“Cute” you mumbled to yourself but I was able to hear the word that came out from you. You patted my head casually as you started to talk about your life. I grew slightly embarrassed, curling myself, holding my knees, and acted as if I didn’t hear anything.

You were transparently open in talking to the point that I finally knew what “precious” actually meant. Although it was for a moment I knew it would stop soon, you definitely saved me from all I felt.

There I knew how our lives were exact opposites. If I felt everything, the happiness, and sadness, contrasting feelings I couldn’t comprehend, you on the other hand felt nothing. As soon as your dearest brother got into an accident, you didn’t know what to do. If I had abusive and malicious parents, you had no one to be with. I couldn’t even imagine what would happen If I lived your life.

I knew I was bad for thinking of such a way but I took advantage of your life. It made me feel relieved that there were people who faced the worst monsters than I have inside me. It made me look at the positive side of mines.

Much especially when I didn’t expect it would be you. My first impression of you was this carefree pure guy who had no problems in living his life. Little did I know, you were waking up feeling nothing, smiling with no joy, cries without letting out the pain, and laughs despite the numbness and burden that weighs in your heart. I guess we can’t judge people by the way they appear. We never know how much tears they’ve shed every night.

You summarized and wrapped things up. You asked for my name one last time before leaving. But there I was, hung my head low and sniffles could be heard. You looked in confusion as I tried to cover my face. A surprise was evident in your reaction and it was obvious due to your stuttering. You tried to ask what happened but instead hugged me unconsciously.

That was the first time I’ve ever felt warmth. I was born a mistake so even my parents couldn’t give me this kind of comfort. I cried worse as I had thought of it. The idea of a stranger giving me a better meaning of how home felt like than a family does, who wouldn’t tear up after that?

I don’t want to be ahead of time. But hope filled my mind. Maybe I could find more people like him. Maybe someone out there could notice my emotions. Maybe someone could act as my light. Maybe someone does care about my wellbeing. Out of a huge percentage of people living on Earth, there should be one who could at least meet and save me right? I know I settled in all “maybes” but it was much better than having none.

2

  Recalling the series of events, I was a total problem. Yet you were always there for me no matter how heavy of a burden I am. You were the one who believed in me when I couldn’t, picked me up when I was drowning in a wave of traumas and worries, and lightened my deep void. You were my first and swore you’ll be my last, who broke my past and created my unknown beginning. I hated risks but whenever you are involved, I for sure know it is worth it no matter how many needles it may pain me. It had been years before noticing how much you mean to me I may be late, but would never get tired of this. I will listen and enjoy our memories until the end. You will, for eternal love, be my last song in my only playlist.

Although it’s true we never believed in love since the beginning. But all we do know is that we’d like to spend our whole lives together. It’s as if we were bound by the heavens to meet and help one another. With all that’s happening, I would like to assume that this is love people were talking about. Who knew it could be this powerful to change someone?

  [CHAN’S POV]

  And what happened to the “messy innocent girl who was stained by reality?” She became an unrecognizable teen, as pure as ever. In the past, I wasn’t able to feel the emotions most do but look at me now, smiling every time I see you do. Even though I’ve never felt heavy feelings, these light ones are taking a toll on me whenever you call my name.

We had arguments but never had any misunderstandings. This is all because no matter what I say, you are always by my side. I could tell you day by day how much you mean the world to me, my downfalls, and everything unnecessary but you’d still listen to it with no regrets.

Right now, we’re meeting up for a “little date” as you mentioned. I was going to decline because there had been many requirements in class but you seemed too interested that I didn’t want to break it to you.

I was wearing my usual hoodie sweater with baggy pants and ordered for both of us. After all, you would always choose chocolate whipped shakes over anything. You seemed to take too long so I decided to work on some demands given. I turned on my laptop and opened the application as I placed the headphones on my ear, silencing the noise in my surroundings.

Now all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding and swallowing as my throat started to dry. The loading symbol appeared on my screen and I hoped it would stay like that forever. I hoped it would crash and tried to find more excuses for me not to use it.

I was consistently looking at the time shown on the panel below the main screen. The blue circular sign still turns and turns as I see it from my peripheral vision. 3:31, 3:32, 3:33, the minutes kept moving and hands that are now shaking because I assumed this would be the worst nightmare that could happen. But no, cause “worst nightmare” is an understatement when we are referring to this. It would’ve been better as a nightmare because I could wake up from this traumatic moment. I was focused on my screen that I hadn’t noticed the calling in my front.

“Channie?... Chris?.... Christopher?... Mr.Bang Chan?.. Chan!”

  [Y/N’S POV]

  He finally noticed me as soon as I tapped on his shoulders. He flinched and looked at me in horror. It creeped me out but it took seconds before he could pull his eyes away from mine. He bit his lips and I noticed him covering his hands. The staff called out a number which I believe was from our table considering the way he closed his laptop.

“I’m getting that” You forced a little smile as you made way to the counter

I smiled at the thought of our “date” but seeing you sweating and nervously fidgeting your fingers to avoid them from shaking bothers me. Did something happen before you came? Why was he that nervous? Thoughts bombarded my mind, but you coming back with my favorite drink and snacks, looking all-smiley, tells me as if you noticed my discomfort so you tried cheering me up. You sat down in front of me and got rid of your problems. As usual, this guy notices even the littlest gestures I make.

“Did you wait too long?” I asked you with enthusiasm because our little date has now started. The idea non-stop makes my whole day

“No, I just arrived before you did.” You respond with a genuine smile despite the clear lie you just gave. You stroked my hair as you looked at me lovingly

“Oh, I just passed by that bakery we talked about a year ago…..” I started chatting about our fond memories that remain vivid in my head.

It took several hours of talking and enjoying our time together. We also watched that Philippine movie starring two exes who broke up and lived in one house, but being an emotional wreck, it took 30 mins of you trying to comfort me as I cry ugly. Of course, you didn’t miss an opportunity to laugh at me and even took a video. Teasing me and showing my picture as your wallpaper, made me playfully angry.

We also enjoyed visiting the same tunnel where we met. The nostalgia is present. The moon is shining and I can’t help but smile looking at you.

  [CHANS POV]

  You look beautiful under the moon if I must say. I wanted to show the magnificent view because it reminds me of you whenever I see it up above. You were my only light when my days in the past were too dark.

We continued strolling around, counting the streetlights that passed by and talked about a lot of things. Until you decided to speak up-

“About…. the thing that happened earlier?” You looked up to me, but your eyes soon started moving away from mines. You were held on with the anxiety of trying to speak up whenever it had come to my personal life. I don’t know whether it was the trauma you’ve stumbled upon when you asked about my father or it’s just due to your manners. Nonetheless, if it was indeed your trauma, I’ve felt guilty about it and wanted to reassure you I won’t hurt you ever again. “But if you don’t want to talk about it-“ I cut your sentence off.

“My father was a musician..” your eyes shined with glee in my response

“That’s cool!” You exclaimed but it soon faded into a frown after hearing me sigh. Tilting your head, you tried to calculate everything that’s wrong with it. I nervously fidgeted with my hands and knuckles, contemplating a decision that could change and even affect both of us.

“Everything’s wrong... He was into it, music took his mindset and life” I faced my head sideways and gulped without looking at your eye. The trauma, I’m finally telling my pent-up feelings after a lifetime keeping it to myself.

“He was so into composing music and started to forget about the reason he had started to do it. And by that-“ you cut off my sentence and started to nod a few times, pressing your lips together. You pointed your shaky finger at me and spoke softly.

“I think I know where this is going.” You looked at me in disbelief but all I could do is look at you with concern and guilt, asking for forgiveness. “Is this why you didn’t want to love again even after all these years?” Your eyes that shined stars a moment ago, turned into sun at night. It wasn’t raging darkness, but plain agony.

“Can you blame me? I know I love music, I’ve told you that on repeat for years. Is love what I need when that was the cause of everything?”

You didn’t take one glance at me and started walking faster. You were trying to leave me behind but I was quick to grab your hand.

“Please, let’s not act like this. It’s starting to get..” I was trying to think of a less harsh word because things get complicated day by day. And here I thought this date would be an exception. “Childish. Okay? I don’t get why you’re so out of place and it’s like-“

“So now I’m the one getting childish here?” You turned around and faced me, finally. Though it wasn’t any relieving as I expected. You were having tears stuck in your eyes, ready to fall at anytime yet you don’t want to cry in front of me. Are we going to keep this up? I was about to talk but no words came out of me. Until you decided to continue your sentence.

“You knew about this all the time, right? You knew how I was starting to fall for you and yet you continued our relationship without feeling love?” You bit your lips as your eyebrows creased. Trying to push me away, but all I could do was hold you tighter. “I know how trauma feels like. I’ve been there, we’ve been there. But you could’ve told me sooner at least so I’m not the only one looking like a whole fucking fool here, Christopher.” You tried to get away from my hold and yes, you did. Though as I tried to grab your hand once again, you took a step backward and placed your hands up in the air as a sign of surrender. “Call me sensitive but for God’s sake! How could you get me all wrapped up in your finger for the past years and call it something that isn’t attachment nor love? What was I to you then?” It took seconds for me to get the gist of what you’re trying to say and I did understand but I couldn’t answer that simple question.

Because now that I think of it, was I awful to hesitate who you were in my life? Was those years nothing for me then? I want to protect you until the end and I wanted to see you happy but I’m pretty sure I felt this for some of my friends as well. Did I just get into a relationship whilst thinking of my significant other as a friend? Is it called using someone? Taking advantage to make my life better? I know what’s right and what’s wrong. But I don’t know which is which. Getting into a relationship is a risky choice and I don’t want to hurt anybody in between. Because I know that’s what’s wrong. Using others for my need of affection and love is wrong as well. But is this exactly what I’m doing? I don’t know...As things grow, it just gets complicated to the point that I couldn’t even comprehend situations.

“I thought so” you continued, and those words crushed my heart. I didn’t notice the time we’ve been arguing, though technically it’s just you who was able to speak, that we’ve already reached your house. You opened the tiny gate in front of your house and I know what’s going to happen sooner later.

“Maybe, you need time to think about it alright? I don’t think I can keep up with a relationship like this if it’s too one-sided. But don’t worry I’ll wait. Even though what I want may not come,” you chuckled but the sigh was still evident. “I’ll wait for you.” You smiled, but it isn’t the one you’ve always shown me. I was the reason for your happiness but also the reason for your pain. How tragic must have been that sound.

You went your way to the door and closed it. I knew you were crying as I heard little sniffles but never looked my way. Closing the door, that was the last time I had ever seen you. With no goodbye kisses and hugs, you left feeling the ache you didn’t deserve.

3

[YOUR POV]

  It was supposed to be “taking a break”, but considering this, I should’ve accepted it as a break-up. You never took time texting me after the whole 4 months. I guess I was no one in your life. But even though I was still hurt, I regretted spatting out things as if it was your fault. You always get guilty over things and I know it was all just because you had a hard time reciprocating your feelings because of the lack of love you’ve felt. I should’ve understood that part but being the sensitive me, I was unmindful. I’ve also never seen you walk past the corridors nowadays, so it’s basically been also the same 4 months of actually not seeing you as well. You really bothered trying to get out of my life.

I groaned as I sat up in the bed. It was around 8:30 and I’m like 1 hour and 30 mins late? Not that I’m bothered by it since I’ve gotten used to it. It’s not like our teacher is there by the time I arrive.

  -SCHOOL-

  “Outside, now” was the first and last thing I’ve heard as I entered my classroom. And here I thought the teacher wasn’t present. Not only did I embarrass myself in front of my classmates, but I’d also have to stand holding a chair, outside the classroom for lower and higher-ups students to see. Awful, and my reputation is broken. Well, not that I had any significant reputation in the first place but come on, you know how hard it was to see students bickering while looking at you.

I heard the door click open and I hoped it was the teacher who finally would let me in. It turned out to be another classmate of mines which I thought was unnecessary. But as I looked back up and noticed his eyes, a sense of familiarity came unto me.

“Han?” My eyes widened at the sight in front of me. I’m not expecting people to be perfect but our class president was the last person I expected to be scolded by our teacher. “Weren’t you inside the classroom way before me?”

“I cursed.” The guy spoke shortly and lifted the chair just like the same punishment I’ve been doing. I blinked my eyes twice but understood nothing.

“Pardon?” I replied in a high tone as if I was questioning what he was trying to say. Cursed? Is he out of his mind, trying to curse in front of the teacher? Besides, he had always been this quiet kid, but girls still tend to simp over. The latter though is out of my knowledge.

“What did you say?” I leaned in as you jolted quite a bit. Reacting to the sudden flinch, I assumed it was bold of me to do so and it scared you. But looking straight at you, pink tints were found on the side of the cheeks. It was light and definitely cute.

“F-fuck” he faced me with eyebrows creased and hesitated in replying. It was so short and awkward whenever he’d say it or maybe it’s also due to his stuttering. The thought was so out of the place and even I, who is quite free doesn’t curse in front of the teacher for no reason so why would someone who tries to stay low, would curse? But the way you told me the “forbidden” word made me laugh out loud.

“You’re funny, Mr. class president” I replied after a silent 2 minutes and laughed while hitting him lightly. Little amounts of liquids were falling down my deep brown eyes as I tried to regain my breathing. He’s awkward and that’s what makes it funny. I like him.

I wiped off my tears and stared at you. My laughs slowly died down after seeing your confusing expression. I don’t know whether your eyes held a safe haven or a place I was indulged in and forgot about the point that everything was complicated in between. Whether staring at you was comfortable or confusing. All I know is that I was distracted by the genuine smile you gave. It was little but I knew it was a smile after seeing cute dimples on the side of your lips. Now that I think of it, I haven’t ever seen the president smile.

You noticed my pause and coughed, trying to clear out the tension. The usual demeanor was back. Was everything just an illusion then?

“Anyways, I don’t know about you but I’m gonna have to go. Don’t want stay here standing when time’s already up” you lazily said as you pressed your lips together, leaving me speechless all alone. Raising your hand, you waved back at me while walking away and didn’t even take time to look back.

That was weird. Or was I the only one weird? True, I’ve never seen him around that much but I’ve painted the guy as someone responsible considering the works he finished even after given such a small time. He was indeed open-minded but wasn’t out-spoken or friendly. Work is work and he has to make sure he aces his tests for his reputation to not tarnish even one bit, that’s all that matters to him. He was never used to smiling so he doesn’t do it as much, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’m guessing it must be my imagination.

  /LUNCHTIME/

  Guess what? It’s already lunchtime and I haven’t learned a single bit of information from my teacher’s discussion. Shrugging all my homework, projects, quizzes, oral recitations, and performances that are all due this afternoon, I walked out of the classroom.

But before I did so, I found a familiar guy in my peripheral vision. Trying to confirm whether it was him, I turned and called his name out.

“Mr. president?”

The same awkward and serious guy turned around, raising his right brow. You were confused at first about who would call you with no respect, but hummed in surprise as a response.

“It’s Han for you... and for everyone” trying to continue the work you’ve been doing for our school camp which is totally several months later. What’s the rush?

“Drop the formalities! Besides, I like Mr. president way better.” I smiled and tilted my head then flipped my hair. I was a whole smug for thinking my naming sense was the best thing about me.

“Like, like?”

The same vibe always comes up whenever I’m talking to you and I don’t know why. How is it so hard to interact with smart ones? I feel like their language is different and I couldn’t even comprehend what this guy is trying to say.

“like?”

“You like mr. president. That’s what you said”

And that’s how it struck me. Looking back on everything, it seems pretty weird. (I like Mr. President way better) rings all throughout my head. I know he’s been surrounded by girls who have a crush on him but surely he doesn’t think of this as a low-key confession, right?

Please, I didn’t deserve any of this awkward tension. I did walk up to him first but blame my curiosity for wondering what he’s doing in his free time, does he always go to the library whenever, or what do the lifestyle elites like him actually have? Maybe, I did just want a friend but who knew it would be this complicated. Wrong choice.

“The names you provide for people are so dull” you faked a yawn to show how uninterested you are.

I laughed out and tried to hide the embarrassment I’ve felt inside. He meant the name of course! What was I thinking? He quickly got up and proceeded to leave the classroom as if he understood what I wanted to do. He catches up with things fast if I must say. But the feeling didn’t subside in me and I tried to cover up my face with my hands as soon as he left. Heaving a deep sigh, I reassured myself and followed him.

  -CAFETERIA-

  “This is all they’ve got?”

It’s been a second we’ve entered the school cafeteria and yet this elite beside me was already complaining. We sat down on the white benches and I was also relieved the cafeteria doesn’t have many students since our class ended earlier than the desired time.

“You’ll get used to it. Besides, what do you commonly eat for lunch? This is good.” I replied and waited for a response that never came back. I’m thinking it was a wall I’m talking to. You ate the soup and showed a face of disgust. Of course, I don’t give up.

“Do you have different cafeterias?” “Or do you eat in your respective rooms?” “Do you actually eat? cause you looked really busy with the requirements.” “Being a class president is that hard huh? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone as hard-working as you even if they have high titles.” “You know if I was the class-“

“Why do you ask so many questions? Geez” you swept your hair and sighed. You felt tired talking to someone as chatty as me but all I could do is playfully pout and raise both my eyebrows up. Shrugging, I respond.

“Why not?”

You glared at me but I wasn’t taken aback by it so you decided to reply, finally. “The real question is, why?” you tried to peacefully eat and finished it quickly so you could go to the library, I suppose. It was going smoothly until my small brain with low grammar or structure skills decided to pop up the least moment I wanted it to.

  “Because I’m interested in you.”

  Choking was all I could hear after I simply stated. Panicking, I gave you my water unknowingly and you drank it. I patted your back and stroked it gently.

“You okay?” I tried to calm you down but your face seemed to ask me whether you were okay even after everything was obvious.

“You mean you’d like to know about my lifestyle?” You analyzed my reaction as I tilted my head. I mean isn’t that clear? Your eyes seemed like you got the hang of me again and scoffed, rolling your eyes. Wow! Now, what’s up with this attitude?

“It’s common. Just some random New York steak.” My eyes widened and my ears couldn’t believe what they’re hearing. That’s common? Gosh, even my monthly allowance couldn’t afford to buy a whole steak, what more if it was specifically in New York? And the way he didn’t bother to flex about his lunchtime food and acts as if it’s unimportant.

“Enough about me, how about you?” I believe you were trying to ask for the sake of the conversation but it excites me anyway. I mean, an elite asking me about my life? It boosts my pride, internally laughing as I thought of the idea.

“What do you want to know about me?” Grinning, I eagerly waited for the question. How blessed I am to have an upper-class student to not just interact, but ask about me as well.

“What happened between you and Bang Chan?”

I’m taking it all back. I don’t want to hear any questions. I was wrong. By Bang Chan, I knew straight away he was referring to Chris. The mentioned ex became an elite, or so I heard. I don’t know how, why, or when but that’s the only reason possible for him to know there was a thing between us. But unlike me, Mr. President wants to make sure of everything and not just the rumors he had heard.

“No.” I simply stated and continued to eat.

“Why not?”

“I should be the one asking you why”

“Because I’m interested in you”

I paused and was slightly surprised by the sudden declaration. Okay, my way of telling him made me look crazy. I looked up to him and saw a pair of teasing eyes. This is who mr. president is? Now it was my time to roll my eyes and I knew at that moment I had no escape.

“Exes. We’re exes.” I expected a startled expression from you but your lips curled downwards as if you expected it. How was it hard to read this guy’s mind though he immediately catches up on everything I’m feeling?

Days passed by and as usual, I was the one annoying you. At that very time, we became close because I knew you were a comfortable place for me to be in. You don’t judge unlike what others do each time I open up my problems especially when it comes to my relationship with an elite and Christopher, out of all. For sure, you were the right choice of friend I never knew I needed to rely on.

4

[YOUR JOURNAL]

  Just a few days passed by and I hear lots of students whispering. What’s the occasion? I don’t even know myself yet I’ve brought a ring that matches mine. I’m naive but I always trust my instincts no matter what. As I try to recall the date and puts everything together in one piece from all the clues I’ve gotten.

A familiar man appeared in my sight. But he wasn’t mr. president. He was looking at me and I continued to look at those deep brown eyes I’ve longed to see after a long time. Was I prepared? No. Did I want to see him? I’m not sure so myself. But did I actually like that view? Indeed. My very first heartbreak or hiatus came back after months and to see he felt the same way I did. Did the moment I waited for all of my life would finally happen?

Each step you take, the more my anxiety rushes through me. I felt the shivers either because I was scared or it was the tears I’ve forced to stop from rolling down my cheeks. Or simply both, ignoring the fact that I was hurt yet I did want to see you after all. I wanted to walk away, but if I did then I’m making the same mistake twice. Therefore I stood still silent and only my heartbeat is the loudest out of all.

Closing my eyes, I expected strong grips around my wrist which marks it deep red because anger was the only thing present in the space between us. I didn’t take consideration of the things you’ve gone through but instead became selfish just because I’ve moved on from the past. I did tell you I would wait for you forever but all I gave you was the pressure of making you choose decisions at times you were having a hard time. Just because you made me learn the definition of love, doesn’t mean I could anticipate that you felt the same thing.

Quite on the contrary, I’ve felt warmth and comfort. The grip was truly strong, strong enough to hurt me emotionally and not physically unlike what I expected. The grip I’ve felt was hanging around me, a hug was given to me even when I didn’t deserve this.

“I’m sorry” that was what I’ve heard in the muffled and low volume of voice the man had spoken because he was on the verge of tears. I was supposed to be the one asking for an apology, yet this guy took it to heart once again. Typical Christopher.

“I missed you. I’ve realized I can’t do things without you. It’s been hard..” Your sentence cut the uncertainty I’ve felt. It came, he came. I cried my heart out after not breathing for a second. It would finally work out, after months of trying to ask for support from other people, you entered my life once again. And better? You loved me.

It was your graduation, and I’m glad to be there just like what we dreamed it to be. You may have left, but our romance never stopped.

Cliché right? Of course, that never happens in reality. What happens, is the point that we argue every day because of the long-distance relationship that serves as an obstacle in us. We don’t even know whose mistake it is but considering you, you’ve always been the one who let your pride down and ask for forgiveness. There are times it’s also been me because I realized that this guy doesn’t deserve more burdens in his life. Support is everything I could give.

“Everything working out?” I was astounded by the call Hanji decided to initiate first. He’s always been there for me when I had it rough. He cares for me though he doesn’t show it as much.

“I don’t know. I’ve rarely been receiving texts but he made sure to call me anytime soon. We’ve both been fighting against this. Thanks by the way” You sighed after I finished my sentence. I hoped my exhaustion wasn’t able to reach you but you knew straight away.

“What do you see in him? He is talented and ideal but do you think you both match up?“

It was good he called but hitting it directly at me and doubts our relationship? That’s what triggered and ticked me off. “I told you not to talk about this.” I firmly uttered.

“He doesn’t get the way you act, talk or even feel”

“I’m sorry? What do you mean by that?” It’s rare to see us quarrel because you didn’t want to reach that point and yet it’s you trying to get all complicated once again. Here I thought I got the hang of how you think. “He understands me more than anyone.”

“If he does then why didn’t he call by then?”

“He was busy. I repeated that to you more than thrice throughout the whole call. But if he wasn’t busy then he’d take a grasp of everything.”

“Was he? Because the last time I knew you had a rough day, crying all alone, he didn’t. The time I knew I had to cheer you up, he didn’t. The time I knew I needed to reassure you that no one’s ever going to leave you but stay by your side, even though you didn’t realize about it, he didn’t.”

3 seconds passed by before my voice was heard in the line.

“What does that have to do with all these?”

“I understand you but the guy you wanted to be with, doesn’t”

That was it, the final blow. Both were concerning, the whole sentence is. Starting from the conclusion you understood me up until the thought of me wanting a guy who doesn’t pick me up the way I assume couples needed. We had a relationship with Chris, but was it called a relationship with lots of things in between?

“I’m sorry. Slipped out. I was just irritated.” It was a first for you to apologize but my mind wandered to the part where you compared yourself to Christopher.

“What do you mean by you understanding me when he doesn’t?”

“I mean... If I did understand you, then I’m pretty sure a lot more boys out there would be a better match and would recognize your desire. They would be able to take care of you. You know I’m just.. worried.”

If it was the usual vibe, I would’ve laughed at that lame excuse. But thinking back, it’s hard for me to perceive the way you feel about me. I’ve heard rumors but ended up being nonchalant about it because mr. president having feelings? I chose to believe it wasn’t real especially when I’m already facing a hard time.

“good night.” You continued after the short silence. It was now you who was starting to get exhausted. You cut off the line quickly before I could even reply. Was the relationship between me and Chris wasn’t able to follow up fate? How innocent of me to think that true love comes so easily.

5

  Days turned to months and I lost count of the weeks Chris has been gone by my side. He had never failed to text compared in the past, but I still yearned for his affection.

He seemed excited on the phone today and unknowingly called me 5 times and now a 6-

“Christopher, aren’t you busy?” I giggled as I heard him laugh. It made my day and filled up the void in me that was created because of the thought he isn’t able to be with me on my graduation day.

“I have duties... as your boyfriend” I playfully rolled my eyes without expecting a turn of events.

It was my final day in school and to think that I have to spend it alone because I had no friends, awful. Chris made my day though, so I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. But the feeling of not seeing Hanji anymore still lingered in my mind. It was harsh but I had to accept it. We didn’t talk that much but undoubtedly, he was a good friend in times I need him.

Whilst looking around the stalls in the halls, I found him. He was talking to a guy seemingly the same age as ours and he looked so happy. But as his eyes met mines, was it just me, or did it die down? Maybe he doesn’t want to see me after all? His eyes traveled back to the sushi he ordered but sighed as I ran up to him.

“Mr. president?” The happy and annoying tone of calling him wasn’t present anymore. It was gloomy, hesitating if I should bother his hours or time. “Did I do something?”  What happened to our closure? it flees away.

I saw you in the process of trying to smile a little and just hummed to let me know nothing’s wrong. But everything is. You ignored me and walked up to the classroom. I followed you, as I always do. I decided to speak up but you cut me off.

“I’m sorry if I did-“

  “Are you still interested in me?”

  You turned around and confronted my small figure. It hurts the way you try to smile in front of me but failed to do so. Usually, you always made me believe what you wanted me to. You’d say you’re fine, you’re happy, you’re not exhausted, but right now? I’m not buying it. I may not be able to read you that much, but you seemed too tired to the point that your magic of convincing me didn’t work.

“Interested..?”

“You said you were interested in how elite ones live. Now that you got the answer and your boyfriend is one, what am I there for?”

“You were there for me-“

  “when he couldn’t be there”

  You were being on and off, getting more complicated as time passes by. You don’t go straight to the point but instead, run circles until I have a hard time contemplating whether I’m the wrong one.

“What are you trying to imply?” I questioned

“I don’t need a quote that says don’t expect something in return”

“Return? After everything, we’ve been through? Our friendship? Was it all just nothing? How doesn’t that benefit you?”

“Because the more I give you your need, why do I have to receive pain instead?” Your voice was shaky and I can see you biting your lip, trying to suppress yourself from falling and breaking. “You wanted to know me because you were curious about my life. Now that you know of it, what do you want from me?”

“What do you mean what do I want? I want nothing from you. The bond that we’re tied in is enough for “

“Then who am I to you?”

“I told you, a friend.”

“My purpose in your life?”

“Lifting me up whenever I feel....down”

“So did you recognize how that sound like to you?”

Among both of us, I broke down first. Why am I being the one treated like the villain in this story taking advantage of people around me? Why am I the perceived the evil being in our friendship? Why does he want to make me feel guilty? I didn’t even know what the problem is yet, but I was already the bad one here. Call me clueless, but I couldn’t be blamed for something I don’t even know about. Quiet sobs filled in the silence and I could feel your sympathy filling the empty room.

“If ever..” in a low volume, you decided to speak “Why do you want to spend more time with me?” I looked up to you and wiped away all my tears if that’s possible.

A reason, that’s all I need to prove but no suggestions came up to my mind. Recollecting tragedies, was I the one who didn’t bother calling you when you didn’t do the same to me? Why didn’t I? You didn’t even pass my mind one single time in the past days. So why didn’t that happen? I appreciated him but when did things gradually just..stop?

Tears fell down yours as well but you didn’t want me to look at you in the eye. “You were supposed to say for more memories, you know? Like because I actually made you happy so you wanted me to appreciate our moments. Believe it or not, that’s what they say” you laughed to lift the air but I was still left dumbfounded after everything. How terrible of me, that thought echoes repeatedly.

Hours passed by and I wasn’t feeling it. The sun turned gloomy, the loud cheer of students turned to noise, the sky turned monochrome and the atmosphere turned dull. All I could do was ask Chris regarding it. All he could say is that he appreciated how Hanji backed off and didn’t want to complicate things more by telling me. Understanding none of it, what does he mean by didn’t want to complicate things more when our quarrel was? Wow, I really am this hopeless. Slow and unaware.

I was lost in thought that I late realized how I could hear vehicles in Chris as he was on call. Was he lying then? He mentioned he was staying in but why are there noises and people chattering? I was baffled hearing one of the familiar voices behind. One seemed to be the same as my classmate.

“Where are you? I thought you said you were in your home?”

  “I am home.”

  Clichè as it seemed, It all felt like a slow-motion in a fast-paced sequence of events. Firstly you were just talking to me but at the next second, you were personally doing it.

Holding your phone, I finally found the guy I’ve seen and lost on the same day in the past. But now? He’s here. Promising me that he won’t leave ever again. I knew I could trust these words no matter how repetitive they're going to be. Once you tell me it, I just know you’d be by my side no matter what until the end of the world.

You were looking the same as I remembered in the past and it’s played out like deja vu. You walking up to me and giving me a whole hug of comfort, as I cried in your arms.

“How about your-“

“I don’t want you to worry about it. I’ve chosen myself, with no additional pressure, to live with you.” You stroked my hair and patted my back.

“Live with me?”

“Don’t you want to?” I was delighted and surprised by the sudden decision. I wasn’t given enough time to think about it, not that I needed time anyway. I would always choose you over anything else.

It was the event and yes, I graduated with my boyfriend cheering me on and allowed me to soar high and fly, to start a new beginning.

6

[HAN POV]

  It was good seeing you happy. Even if it was Bang Chan, I’m sure he is the only man that can make you smile like that.

But indeed, I was hurt. I was a book you wanted to read but as soon as you got ahold of the main idea, everything starts to get boring. Usually, you would never fail to not make me annoyed each day because as you always say, I cross your mind every time. When you were indulged in your relationship, I was forgotten.

It was all my mistake and you don’t have to feel guilty about it. I may not have any expectations of you loving me, but I had hopes and that’s what made me receive pain. If I hadn’t hoped you would be with me, hoping you forgot about him, hoped you could see I am just here waiting, hoped you could realize I can treat you better, then both of us wouldn’t get hurt. It’s my fault and I’m held accountable to live in regrets.

But even for a split second, I am happy that I am capable of distracting your worries and making your day better. I wasn’t thinking well in the argument a while ago but I did get the benefit. Seeing you happy, makes me happy. So letting you go is the best choice for both of us to receive joy. Scratch that, I don’t have the right to tell you I would let you go.

  Because I never stood a chance did I?

7

[YOUR JOURNAL]

  After graduating, I moved in with Christopher. He let me listen to some of the tracks he had created to stop me from bothering him all day.

The music he had composed was nothing personal and was based on people from different perspectives. I had never felt the same experience as well but something about the way he writes and produces brought me to tears. The pain and emptiness inside were well shown in the midst of harmonies. He was also a genius writer with well-structured sentences and livens up feelings in the words to make the listener feel as if he or she was the one narrating it. His father is a musician, but to think he would be able to express that much in songs just shows how deeply connected he is with music. He wasn’t motivated because he tries to stop himself from being like his father but it was a pity for him to stop something he is incredibly good at.

“You’re really something Christopher! Do you know that?” I hugged him from behind and heard his little laughs. “I think I’ve fallen for you all over again. But honestly, I knew you’d write and produce this good” I wore on a smug look as he asked while giggling because of the face I’m giving.

“How?”

“How about calling it an intuition from an expert music lover?” You playfully rolled your eyes in my response because you expected something more detailed. You urged me to explain it to you so you’d knew my opinion about the music and so I did.

“Your words are beautiful that it makes me believe anything you’ll say, Christopher” I smiled and kissed your cheek. I rested my head near your neck as we were sat on the bed, facing each other.

It was true. You made me feel different feelings and opened up a new perspective to move on from my past. You influenced me a variety of changing thoughts. I don’t like the idea of losing myself to someone because it forgets the real me. I don’t like the concept of being crazy in love with people because it doesn’t feel sweet somehow whenever the risk of it being one-sided and unable to move on is present. Not realizing that whenever the talk comes about you, it feels heavenly. I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t yours but it all feels enchanting. Although you made me insecure, at the same time you made me laugh throughout the day. You were a gold rush. Perfect and gentle, to think that someone like me got you is like winning once in my entire life. Luck is rare but fate was there. By fate, it turned out you were destined to meet me and get me out of the hell hole, no one tried to do. By fate, it means I will love you and will forever do. By fate, we’ll stand strong and fight the cracks alongside our journey.

8

[CHRIS POV]

  You wouldn’t take a no for an answer when I was asked to create more songs. A single shed of tear from listening to my music encouraged you to push more song requests unto me. Make-me-a-song was all I could remember hearing from you.

I remember you publishing one of my songs and I was accepted by it. You were jumping up and down as I was worried about its outcome. I was starting to get known, that was also the beginning of how the unforgivable musician started to forget about the important ones in his life. It was as if the result would be dragging my only light into my darkness. I don’t want to be a musician and yet, here I am composing more songs even if I knew what was coming soon.

I’ve started with light romance that I think you’ll enjoy but seeing you look so happy with just a simple work of mine, gave me that motivation I least wanted to have. And like a recorded cd, everything was played the exact same way in different men. I hated it but it was truly like father, like son.

I continued to write songs with deeper ones but as I got the recognition all the more, I produced as if I was possessed. I was indulged in the way words can be conveyed differently and ideas, stories, and theories were constantly overflowing my mind. I was wrapped up in music and I hated myself for it. Even though I despised the process, I couldn’t help but continuously write. All of my pent-up feelings in the past years were expressed in my songs, making me create heavy tracks and don’t run out of stories to tell. The man I’ve been hiding and was traumatized from came back and it’s as if he mocks me that we are on the same page after all. I felt myself sinking and sinking despite you telling me that I am not like my father because I made you feel the definition of love. I was trapped in a room with no escape that relates whenever I had started making music, I couldn’t get out of it. I wasn’t forced but this drive is what makes me continue because I feel like I’m creating a new genre that makes people deeply appreciate and maybe understand what I’ve been going through.

4 years came by but it felt like days in my studio.

“Chris, are you sure you’re fine? Get enough rest okay?” the young girl called me but I was busy finalizing the song.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied shortly after your question. I wasn’t paying much attention so I didn’t know the accurate response for it.

“Anyways, what’s that ab-“

“I’m working on music that’s going to be showcased and submitted to the famous JYP company later. It is really important so I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me by asking so many questions. Come by later, we’ll talk about it then.” I looked at my watch on my right arm and noticed how I still got a few hours left before attending the ceremony. The albums will be released soon after but I have to submit another title track.

I was busy with all the scheduled dates and songs that I hadn’t realized

  she wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “Mr. Bang Chan?” hours came by and truly the CEO came. We have a friendly bond and he gives me advice so it’s casual for him to call on me. I hurried up to the door and went to the car.

“Why didn’t you invite her to the big event?” The CEO of the company asked me to start up a conversation. He crossed his hands and tapped his fingers as if he thought of something so deep and significant because he was getting impatient.

“It’s a big hassle. She isn’t good and comfortable in interacting with people she doesn’t know” I simply stated and smiled for respect.

“I don’t interfere or meddle in the personal affairs or lives of others but I hope you aren’t neglecting her because of this, are you?”

“She will understand” I looked up to the car window and stared at the illuminating lights from buildings. I know you took a lot of time waiting for me, but please don’t give up and let me finish this song about you. By then, our Disney-like dreams would finally come true and I swear I’ll make you even happier.

  I held a box of ring in my pocket. I’ll make you happy, just hang a bit in there okay?

9

[YOUR POV]

  The CEO told me about the new album he’s been working on. It was about his first love. It would be no other than me, right?

I went up to his room and read the paper scattered alongside his desk. There were lots but I decided to read the one that I assumed was already done. It was near the porch and I understood how he wanted to compose in front of the moon.

  The moon shone brightly that night

 but I realized that wasn’t my source of light

You look lovely

as the smiles you beamed lasted an eternity

I was persuaded and lost in thought

unknowingly, my heart was caught

Because even under the moon, you’ve shone the brightest

and cleared my problems at most

Even under where light lies,

 I was indulged deep in your eyes

Even when it illuminates through the void,

a different view is what I’ve enjoyed

Because even if their minds were fixated on the scene,

looking at you felt more serene

  I stopped reading the paper and placed it back on the desk.

  “That can’t be me..” I thought.

  Starting from the mentioned smiles, how could that be me? You stated you enjoyed looking at me, but I felt like I was invisible whenever you compose songs. Did you make songs while thinking of me? I don’t think so. You should’ve known that you were dragging me along with your darkest nights. I wasn’t even your light anymore, it died down. I was overshadowed by your passion or the one you’re talking about in this script. Can I still make you happy? No. Am I still happy? No. The whole lyrics proves how you didn’t even take a single glance at me right now. Because if you did care, you would've known I changed because you did. I changed because the person I was relying upon, didn’t find motivation in me. We started together but it lost while it progresses just like how you started music because of me but lost my figure in your sight along the way. It was reality, I was being forgotten. When I was alone crying, where were you? I know you don’t understand me quite well but I was the whole climate. I changed for seasons unlike in the past where it was mild swings. Because you know what hurts the most? Not the fact that I waited and kept waiting as I am already used to that and no matter how many years it may take, I’ll always wait for you. But it’s all because everything went back. You picked me up from the trauma and showed how love is but it’s as if my past resurfaced from the waters and told me how tragedies would always stay the same. That I would always end up this way no matter who I’m faced to. I felt guilty for slightly regretting that I praised your songs. Indeed you were meant to be connected with music and it’s your passion. I’m happy that I was able to show it to you but wouldn’t these happen if I didn’t start it all? I was wrong. I thought it made you happy but no. None of these made us happy. Your pieces of music weren’t to blame, I shouldn’t be blamed and neither were you. Where did everything go wrong? I don’t know, it just started to fall off. These lyrics were deeply engraved in my mind. You seemed so in love when I wasn’t able to show you what love is. If it was a person, she must’ve been so kind and understanding. She must’ve been someone who understood your secrets and feelings. And me? I couldn’t still get to you. I’m confused about what’s best for you or what you wanted all along. I don’t recognize the woman you’re writing about. Either it was the past me or someone new. Chris,

  who is it that you’re in love with?

  Cold air rushed through my skin as I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of calm air. It wasn’t possible but it was enough to make me feel calm. I still appreciated our moments but I feel like I can’t wait anymore, Chris. It’s not because I’m tired but because I feel like you’ll be better without me. I hate the idea of me regretting I showed you your passion. I’ll be nothing but a whole burden. You’ll meet someone better who recognizes your life and by then she’ll be a brave one who can communicate with you. You’ll find someone new, or you already did. If anything, happiness is all I need in the end, at least at the ends of the world. It did happen. I was happy because the next thing I’ll do will be the bravest thing I had ever done after all my cowardly decisions in life, and it’s all because of you.

I stood up at the top of the porch and imagined a vivid scenery. It was you kneeling down to someone new. She did accept it and you were celebrating. Tears ran down my cheeks but was I smiling? Yes, it was indeed happiness seeing you take a break from the pressure and realize you needed to receive joy. I wasn’t able to give it to you but to think someone else would, contrasted the happiness and pain. “It’s time to let go” I opened my eyes slowly as I thought and saw the moonlight. I snapped out of my thoughts and cleared out my head. Because no matter what happened in between us, you crossed my mind in a second. And that’s when I knew, I still loved you despite the bittersweet rain.

10

[CHRIS POV]

  I heard sirens in front of the place that doesn’t feel like home anymore. Why? I heard how young and innocent the girl was and it was a pity to see her leave. It was a shock for me to the point that I hadn’t shed a single tear. Empty, hollow. It was all I could feel at the moment. Was she gone? Did she conclude to leave her out of my life?

Paper. That’s all I’ve seen on the desk. It’s prohibited to enter but I couldn’t believe what I’m seeing. The paper was crumpled and I believed you took the time to read this. Was my perspective wrong about you? Wasn’t this about you? I read the paper without further thinking and realized how I painted her as an angel. She is human, she was a human. Yet I’ve acted as if she was happy all the time, trying to save me from being a mess. Did I take a look back at her? No, instead I assumed too quickly. But what could that change? I was late and you’ve already given up. I was this close to preventing this but because I was so into writing a song made for you, I had forgotten the purpose to the point that it doesn’t seem like you anymore. Can I turn back time? If only I could. I needed to feel your warmth, I needed to see you one last time. I need you.

“Excuse me, do you know the victim?” A man from the authorities asked.

“Yes.”

Mixed emotions were vivid. I felt guilty but hoped you were happy in your last breath. The context of mines was complicated and I didn’t even notice it before. I abandoned to treat, as what I comprehend. Miscommunication rode the tides but it was undoubtedly true when I started to ignore people that surround me. I want to focus on you without realizing I left you. Is that even possible? It is now that I’ve seen it. Just like CDs, everything was played out in deja vu. People were different but things were just the same. It was how I became just like the person I despised all my life. But I did it for a reason, it’s not like I forgot about you. I just didn’t think how your feelings are right now but pursuing this song, is how I still remembered every bit of you. Would the ring I held on be given if I arrived earlier? No, I should’ve realized. I should’ve loved and made you feel how important you were to me in the days back then. In times you felt a hole in your chest, I should’ve been there to feel it up with love. I should’ve been there when you felt insecure. I should’ve been there when you felt all alone. But no matter how much I hurt myself, tear myself apart, it all ends with “I should’ve.” I’m sorry I couldn’t show you what I wanted to. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you until the very end.

I continued explaining to the man, 

  “She was my fiancée”

would you love me if I let go?

[californiannostalgia]

In honor of The Tower of Nero’s Loser Gods, here are my favorite Greek God character study snippets from Were I That Burning Star and a fact easily forgotten (we named our crowns ourselves) that I loved writing most.

.

Artemis

Her voice began to climb. "Century upon century upon century of loss, and we changed. We are everlasting, and they are not. Did you honestly expect us to endure it without going mad? Do you truly think I did not weep for my loved ones, and for the thousands of souls I never gave myself the chance to know?" 

.

Hermes

It had been May’s choice that drove her to madness. It had been Luke’s choice that drove him to his death.

It’d taken him a long time, but Hermes had come to terms with it. He couldn't have saved them. Their fates had never been his responsibility. It had always been theirs. He would mourn. He would remember. But he would not dishonor them by regretting the choices they’d made for themselves. Regret was a choice that belonged to them. Whether to love them, their choices and all? That was his.

.

Aphrodite

It was a burden, but at the same time, it was a blessing. They could offer her a throne, the world, a weapon for her hands and the promise of respect—it wouldn’t matter. She wouldn’t trade away this Love for anything.

.

Ares

Athena was here.

"Yes," he said.

The war goddess had come to face him.

"Yes," he said again, then roared, “YES!”—in approval, in delight, in uncontrollable exhilaration that burned like wildfire through him. He summoned his broadsword and drew the blade from the scabbard in one clean motion, the sharp sound of slithering steel serving as his own clarion note of challenge. “YES, ATHENA!”

.

Athena

She fantasized about it. When the day came, she would fight her fiercest against the justice of a rising world order. She would fight and she would lose, but part of her looked forward to the end. When responsibilities both wanted and unwanted left her shoulders, would she still be herself enough to look her newborn counterpart in the eyes and pull them closer to whisper, weighed down with pride and sorrow and all the complications newborn deities had no hope of understanding, “I was justice once”?

.

Hephaestus

“Their hatred made me something else," he acceded, thinking of Hera and the throne he'd engineered to be a trap. "Something I did not want to be. So I sought to get myself back, but couldn't remember what that looked like."

He fitted the new parts into place. He tried to say it right. "Maybe there is no kinder original of myself to reclaim. Maybe they killed that. But I have been. Trying. To be something other than what they made me. I think that matters, somewhat. So I don't believe I will become them.” Hephaestus weighed his words. "I don't think he ever noticed, or tried, to be less him. So I don't believe you will be anything like him either."

.

Dionysus

“We chose wrong,” Ariadne said, “but I am content with where I have arrived. I have enjoyed moments I would not have had if I hadn’t chosen wrong.”

Dionysus closed his eyes. She smelled of honey and old books and dusty paths traversed by very few.

“I have regrets,” the goddess of the labyrinths said, “but I do not regret you. Do you regret me?”

“No,” he said.

.

Hestia

Hestia still remembers the day Rhea nudged them outside, father and newborn. Immortal children are born walking, but Kronos offered to hold her hand. They found themselves a shady spot at the edge of an overgrown forest, and he told her the story of how her uncles had claimed the four corners of the world as their own. She remembers being entranced—not by the tale, but by the way his voice slowly climbed in excitement, his face and hands taking on a life she hadn't seen on him before. He smiled upon the conclusion of the story. She asked for another.

Hestia remembers Kronos in a way her brothers and sisters do not. It is a curse she will never share with them.

.

Demeter

"I did not choose my lovers to become a parent. I did not want to be a mother. My mother did not wish to be a mother, either. Reproduction is an unfortunate side-effect of intercourse." Demeter smiled bitterly. "My mother’s life was consumed by her children. I believe she hated us as much as we hated her.”

Apollo remembered Rhea and her tie-dye headbands—her warm, callused palm on his forehead, absorbing his pain. “That isn’t true.”

“Love and hate aren’t mutually exclusive, nephew. I can love her for her kindness and hate her for failing to save me. She can hate me for the sorrow I brought upon her, just as much as she loves me for the joy.” Demeter raised an eyebrow. “As an insignificant mortal once said, we contain multitudes.”

.

Hera

No, she thought with vitriolic fury, no you don’t. She had spat curses into Kronos’s face as he had unhinged his jaw. She was no coward. The Titans had not managed to cow her. She would not be cowed by her husband.

She concocted the most poisonous curses and bestowed them on his demigod children. Here is what I think of your legacy. She arranged the most painful deaths for his mortal lovers. Here is what I think of your infidelity. When he came to her in a rage, she pushed him into a wall and tore at his lips with her teeth. You do not scare me, she thought, high on adrenaline and victory.

“Do I scare you?” she asked, giddy with the power she had discovered for herself.

.

Hades

After the victory, there must have been a reason—when they drew straws to divide the world, and Poseidon looked like he had been saved and Zeus looked like he might smile—there must have been a reason he didn’t contest the draw. Must have been something that made him say, yes, I will take the underground.

He held the keys to the prisons incarcerating their most hated enemies—himself acting as jailor, judge, and executioner—and only then did he realize how utterly satisfying it was to have the proof of his safety be himself.

.

Poseidon

He embarked on the war slightly crazed and considerably scared. He ended the war entirely too crazed.

The sea swallowed him up and he devoured it back. The white-capped waves and salty shores became his lungs, his heart. Fault lines and volcanoes ran on the heat of his blood and the force of his temper. The ocean’s depths were never dark, not in a way that he feared. He raced with his passions and raged as a storm. He laughed at the world that knew to fear him.

Learning kindness came later. Much, much later.

.

Zeus

Tomorrow he might close his eyes and trace the King Cannibal’s palace etched on the backs of his eyelids. Tomorrow he might feel an immovable weight crushing his chest and pushing down his shoulders.

But today he held up a hand to shield his eyes from the southern sun and kept looking up, tracing clouds and chasing falcons. He pictured leading his brothers and sisters back out into the sunlight. He imagined lying down in the grass and having his siblings sit beside him. He was unable to visualize their faces, their height, the way their hands might move when they spoke. But if he succeeded—when, not if (it was foretold, he could do this, he would)—maybe he could learn.

He stared up at the bottomless blue sky and dared to dream of freedom.

.

Apollo

I looked upon the carbon duplicate of Demeter's apathetic despair, crystalized into a glass jar holding lightning. I realized I was exhausted of trying to be heard by the thing behind the glass walls, because he wasn't ever going to hear me, was he? Not really.

"I used to love you." A painful lump got stuck in my throat. I swallowed it down.

My father kept staring.

"I hate that I was born as your child," I said as a farewell, and I walked away.

[need-a-fugue]

Trustworthy (Chapter 4)

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years teaming up with Santiago Garcia on every mission you had a hand in coordinating… and the past several months plotting with him to take down the biggest bad to hit your radar. But even all your time at the DEA and all your experience in the field couldn’t have prepared you for this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Violence, language

Okay, yeah, sure, fine, you and Santi might not have been 100% honest about what you were planning in the jungle.

In fairness, neither of you ever actually said that this recon mission was at the behest of the CNP or Colombian military or any other government entity. You may have hinted at it. You may have neglected to correct the guys when they assumed. But you never actually told them that anyone had requested the raid on Lorea’s house.

What you had said was that there was a good chance this could turn into… something more. Something that might end up in a hefty pay day for all of you. You just never told the group of men that you and Garcia were actually banking on it.

You didn’t love the idea of lying to a bunch of strangers whom – if they agreed to everything – would end up holding your very life in their hands. Frankly, just the thought of doing so felt… sleezy. Especially considering that these men were Santi’s trusted friends. His brothers. But Santiago insisted that it needed to be played this way – They’ll never go for it if we tell them what we’re really up to. But I promise you, bonita, once they’re here, once they see… they’ll be all in.

He clearly knew his team because after just that single two-hour recce, a couple rounds of beers at a local bar, and a rather stirring, pointed speech, they were, in fact, all in.

And why not, really? The only one of them who had anything to lose – a family beyond those seen at the occasional holiday, wedding, or funeral – was Tom. And he’d been struggling so badly lately with impending alimony and child support and two kids’ worth of college tuitions – eight years minimum – that the money alone did all of their convincing for them.

It was illegal, yes. It was, as the captain said, “downright criminal.” But it wasn’t wrong. And as long as everything went according to plan, no one would know anything about any of it.

In the end, the world would be down at least one piece-of-shit, megalomaniacal drug lord murderer.

Some of the struggling people of Leticia – because you and Santi had promised each other and Yovanna that you’d drop a good chunk of the money into the hands of local charities – would have better lives.

Tom’s girls could go to college without having to worry about paying off student loans until they die.

Will could finally get rid of his old junker and buy a nice car – maybe not the Ferrari Ben was angling for, but a nice car all the same – to get him back and forth across the country for all those rousing speeches he insisted he would not stop giving.

Benny could invest in better training, at better gyms with better equipment… and real trainers. Or, hell, he could give all that shit up and quit getting his ass handed to him by kids ten years his junior, all in the hopes of capturing what was almost always one hell of a disappointing purse.

And Frankie? Well, Frankie wasn’t sure what he’d do with his share. But it sure would be nice to not have to worry so damn much. To not have to scramble to make the house payment every month. To not have to beg that dick who owns the local airfield to let him take on a few jobs just so he could settle into a cockpit for a bit. To maybe have the time – and funds – to take a woman on a date every now and then… not that he had a clue who that woman might be.

And you and Santi? Well, after years of accomplishing nothingin the fight against Lorea – the fight against the drug trade that had ruined and taken so many lives around the world – you two could finally say that you’d actually made a difference. Even if you couldn’t quite say it aloud for everyone to hear.

000

By the time you get to the compound early Sunday morning, rain’s already been falling for hours. The area’s nearly flooded, so your off-road path is basically a sprawling swampland. You barely slept, your hip is aching like crazy from an old injury, and the minute you step out of the SUV you damn near squeal like a stuck pig as you suddenly sink up to your calf in thick, sucking mud.

“Shit,” Frankie mutters under his breath – under a breathless laugh, you’re pretty sure – as he hops out and wraps a steadying arm around your waist. “Let me help,” he says, the words so soft, you can barely hear them over the unyielding pounding of the rain.

You try to balance, holding onto the door, one foot just barely sinking into the soft earth as Frankie leans down to pry the other from what feels like an utterly engulfing quicksand. He struggles, still holding you around the waist while his left hand works to grip your leg, your boot, your ankle… whatever he can wrap his fingers around. But it’s no use. The op has yet to even begin and already you’re stuck. In the disgusting mud. Deep in the endless jungle. With no hope of ever getting out.

You let out a painfully dramatic, completely despairing sigh and glance up only to see Benny laughing. Really laughing… not even trying to hide his utter, unabashed amusement at your awful predicament. You shoot him as threatening a glare as you can muster. But it only makes him laugh harder.

“Go get into position,” Tom orders, slapping him on the shoulder and shaking his head – once again in a seemingly all-too-practiced dadway – before he bends down to help Frankie out.

Finally, finally, the two men manage to free you. Shockingly, your boot leaves the earth as well, though you can feel the muck inside squelching beneath your instep and in between your toes. Your lip curls in disgust as you haphazardly wipe the boot – bottom, sides, and top – on the wheel well, a bit of mud getting squeezed out near your ankle as you do so. “I’m gonna get jungle rot,” you mutter bitterly as you continue to smear grime along the body of the SUV.

Tom swats your leg away. “Just be sure you don’t give away your location with all the squishing,” he says with a hint of a smile. Then, patting Frankie on the back, he finishes with a much more stern, “Let’s do this,” and takes off to find his position, face and shoulders both set as he easily drops into soldier mode.

“I’m still not sure if I like that guy,” you begin as you and Frankie head for the high ground, “or really freaking hate him.”

He bites out a quick laugh, turns to show off that too-damn-perfect smile, and replies with an easygoing, “Yup.”

Once you make it out of your drop-in point, everything else seems to be smooth sailing. The worst part is just waiting, especially with the rain. Waiting for Garcia’s informant to drop off the van. Waiting for the guards to leave for church, the family not so quickly following suit. Waiting for the guys to move in – Frankie shooting a quick wink alongside, “Watch my six,” as he heads out to join them. Waiting for the all-clear from Benny before you can finally enter the house yourself.

The house. Lorea’s house.

You’d been waiting for this for too damn long. Years of hunting the man had led to these last few months of building out this very plan with Santiago… and then to the last week of recon and final plans with these soldiers whom you barely even know. For all of the initial mistrust heaped upon you by them – and you honestly don’t blame them for any of it – the truth is, they know they have each other to depend on. You’re the odd man out here. You’re the one who should be questioning them… their dedication to this mission. Their loyalty to Santi, and by extension, to you. Their desire to end Lorea’s reign of terror.

You’re in this to take that man out. And if just one of these guys decides that’s not going to happen – for whatever reason – you’re shit out of luck. You should trust them only as far as you can throw them, which would be… not very far. But as you catch sight of Ben standing inside the front door, eagerly waving you in, and as you see the trail of blood leading into the kitchen, a voice over the coms calmly declaring, we had to shoot one of the guards in the leg, something inside of you shifts and settles and all of the worries about who may or may not be trustworthy simply flit away to nothing.

But other concerns quickly rise to take their place.

Watching the highly trained special ops team move about you – each man light-footed and fluid, so quiet that their breathing is nearly inaudible, even as one of them leans over your shoulder from his position behind – is nerve wracking enough to make your legs begin to tremble. You knew what you were getting into here. You knew that this would be dangerous, that it would require a certain level of skill and technique and training. But it isn’t until you actually see these men – these elite soldiers – in action that you realize how woefully inept and unprepared you are in comparison.

Self-doubt begins to seep from the cracks now forming in your carefully crafted façade. Uncertainty, insecurity, fear starts to build up and rise within you, burning like bile creeping up the back of your throat. By the time you and Santiago finish the second sweep of the downstairs and begin climbing the steps to the second-story landing, your entire body is vibrating with regretful apprehension.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you hear as you approach the study upstairs. It’s the room where your informant took the picture of the stacks of cash after her delivery, the holding area where all of Lorea’s blood money sat, just waiting to be counted. But when you enter, there’s no money to be found, just pissed-off-looking soldiers surrounded by the empty bags they had planned to fill with cash.

“Your girl burned us,” Frankie mutters blankly, eyes full of regret and annoyance as he leans heavily against one wall. His dark gaze collides with yours for just a fraction of a moment before he shakes his head and breathes out, “We gotta get outta here.”

Your brow crinkles in confusion, all of the insecurity bubbling through your body suddenly settling and getting replaced by a sort of righteous indignation. “Whoa, wait,” you spit out, sidestepping Santi and rushing to the center of the room. “We’re not leaving. We’re not done here.”

Will gives you an almost disappointed look and blankly mutters, “Nothing here, sweetheart,” before dropping heavily into a chair in the corner.

You shake your head, a pointed certainty to your words as you level him with a heated stare and say, “Lorea’s here. He’s always here. He does not leave.”

Tom scoffs. “Yeah, well, he left today,” he says, tone full of spite. “And he took the money with him.”

You spin to face him, “No,” pouring from your lips in a firm and unyielding tenor. “He’s here. And so is the money.”

“We did a full sweep,” Will breathes out.

“So we’ll do another,” Santiago chimes in, suddenly at your back.

You look around at all the forlorn faces and roll your eyes, realizing all at once that, for all their training in war, these men don’t have a freaking clue about the kinds of things you deal with in your job. They’re used to encountering soldiers – enemy combatants, trained mercenaries, militias… people who’s purpose is to fight. That’s not what Lorea is. That’s not what he does. He didn’t move deep into the jungle to fight, to wage war, to build an army. He came here to hide.

“You guys are fucking idiots,” you declare with a huff. “I once spent two hours tearing apart a houseboat before finding the guy we were after squatting in a hidden cutout near the bilge. A few years ago, we found fifty thousand dollars under a false bottom in a hot tub while serving a search warrant. Another raid ended with us tearing apart a kid’s tree house that had cash hidden under the floorboards. You think because Lorea isn’t sitting here behind his desk, counting his millions like fucking Scrooge McDuck that they’re not here? That he’s not here?”

“Didn’t McDuck swim in his money?” Benny inquires from behind, the question earning quick huff of a laugh from his brother.

You feel Santi step away from your side. “She’s right,” he says, his eyes dancing around the room, looking for… something. They land on a mostly empty can of paint, and he smiles, sniffing quickly at the air. “Fresh paint.”

Tom’s eyes widen and tick towards the wall to his left as his lips split and out pours what you had all along seen as being an obvious truth. “The house is the safe.”

000

When it rains, it pours. You’d been the one to say that, to inanely mutter the adage through the coms with a huff as Benny took off back inside the house – the safe – while you sat in the now heavily weighted van, so full of money that the suspension sags to the point of extremeconcern.

The guards are coming back, the sound of their SUV’s engine just barely chugging atop the steady beating of the downpour that had engulfed you all for the past few hours. They’re coming back, and everyone but you is still inside.

Call it greed. Call it vindictiveness. Call it whatever the fuck you want. But you all had agreed to get as much plata out of that house as possible, to fill the cars to the freaking brim with as much of that motherfucker’s money – his lifeblood, his love, his everything – before setting fire to the whole damn thing. You’d been in this business long enough to know that bringing down one cartel merely opens up a door for others to grow. But still, the idea of watching Lorea’s empire burn makes you wet in a way the torrential rain beating on the roof on the van never could.

You toss a glance back, over you shoulder at the mound of duffel bags, a child’s suitcase thrown into the pile as well, all filled to bursting with cash. It’s pretty unbelievable. Incredible. You’d never been the type to really worry about money, no more so than the average guy. But damn if being surrounded by millions of dollars doesn’t make you a little lightheaded. And the fact that it’s Lorea’s money?

Despite Santi’s little bullshit pep talk the other night about how all of you deserve this – for serving your country and fighting for what’s right… blah, blah, blah – you honestly don’t feel like you deserve this money any more than anyone else. But Lorea sure as shit doesn’t deserve it. And you trust yourself – and each of these men by your side – to put it to far better use than he ever would.

You can’t see the guards, can’t see the SUV carrying them from your vantage point in the van. But Benny had told you to stay put, he’d get the others and he wanted you ready to drive as soon as they came out. Still, you know now that the first car must’ve arrived at the compound because – aside from the steady pounding of the rain and the wild pulse of your heartbeat echoing in your ears – everything is suddenly silent. No more hum of an engine. No choppy callouts over the radio as Ben seeks out the guys. Everything is silent and still. Until… pop-pop, short and sudden, muffled by the thick walls of the house.

Over the coms you hear – in a calm, controlled tone – Two down in the entryway. Another sharp pop, followed by a voice you’ve come to easily recognize. That’s three.

There’s something in the way their words are uttered, something in the utterly placid tenor of each of their voices. Something also to the sparse shots – so unlike the rapid, automatic gunfire you’re used to being thrown into amid scared and untrained local police and inexperienced, foolhardy kids hired as cheap labor by the cartels. There’s something about the way they all rush suddenly into your line of sight – fast but calm, controlled – as they pour out of the house, a few racing past to find the guards’ SUV, the sounds of their footfalls and quick breaths nearly drowning out the whir of the engine as you turn the ignition. There’s something about it all that leaves you feeling – despite the fact that things did not go as planned and you can see that all-too-recognizable, pissed-off scowl tugging at Santiago’s features as he flies past your window – calm as well. Safe, even.

Frankie climbs quickly into the passenger side of the van just as you fire up the engine, Will slowly pulling himself into the seat behind him. “Shit,” you mutter, eyes widening as you take in the grimace on the man’s face, the blood on his hands and shirt. “What the hell happened?”

“S’fine,” he tells you, punctuating the statement with a nod, a directive to look forward. “Let’s move.”

You put the van in gear and hit the gas, maneuvering steadily through the compound and towards the front entrance. “Did you get shot?” you inquire again, your voice showing less concern and more simple curiosity.

“Yeah,” he groans, a thick breath hitching as you hit a particularly big bump in the road. “Your friend Lorea popped out of his little hidey hole and got me. Guess you called that.”

You whip around to face him, eyes now like damn saucers. “You got him?”

Frankie grabs your arm and gives a little tug to get you turn back towards the front, only speaking, answering for Will, once you do so, once you settle a still-wild stare on the path ahead, “Yeah. Pope took him out. He’s dead.”

You say nothing for a long moment, letting those words seat inside of you. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. How long have you wanted to hear those words? How long have you been gunning for that son of a bitch, waiting for someone to take him out… hoping that someone might be you? Santi doing it is the next best thing, you figure.

A sudden explosion lights up in front of you as you approach the gate and Benny blows past it, and past the van, angrily muttering to himself all the while. “He looks pissed,” you comment blithely, looking to Frankie for something akin to permission before flooring it and ramming through the gate like you’re just itching to do.

He gives a staunch nod forward. “Can’t blame him,” he says, capping it off with a softer, rather encouraging, “Go for it.”

You hit the gas, glancing in the rearview mirror and asking, “The others are in the SUV?” as the guards’ car pulls up behind you and waits for Ben to jump in.

Frankie nods – “Yeah.” – and his eyes suddenly tick your way, narrowing a bit as they rove your body before coming to rest on your hands as they tightly grip the wheel.

“What?” you ask, feeling his stare burn into you.

Will laughs from behind – a swift, stilted thing that tells you just how much pain he’s actually in – and lets out an amused, “Fish always drives.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, voice dripping with put-on sincerity as you continue down the unpaved road. “Do you want me to pull over?”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s no hiding the plainly obvious pout tugging at his lips when he looks over at you and mutters, “Just watch where you’re going.”

The first half or so of the long drive up to the airfield is spent in tense silence. You don’t fight it, don’t force any sort of conversation, don’t inquire about what exactly happened in that house. You can tell that these men need a long-ass moment to come down from everything. Hell, your own adrenaline still has your pulse thrumming endlessly through your ears. And you’d been safely ensconced inside this van for most of the action. It’s not like you had to fight your way out of there. It’s not like you got shot.

Your eyes bounce up to the rearview mirror, finding Will curled into himself in the backseat. “How you doing, Ironhead?” you ask, purposefully infusing the ridiculous name with a mocking intonation.

He looks up and catches your gleaming eyes in the mirror, notes your slight smirk, and gruffly replies, “Well, I’m not dead yet.”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” Frankie supplies from your right. He spins around to give his friend a quick once over. “He’s fine.”

“That’s awfully presumptuous,” you challenge, raising a brow. “Didn’t see you coming out of there with a new hole in your body.”

“Didn’t realize you were so focused on my body,” he returns with a bit of a lilt.

Will groans loudly from the back. “Don’t start flirting up there,” he practically orders before the no-argument tone slips into something softer, almost jovial. “I’m suffering enough back here as is.”

“You’re fine,” Frankie shoots back, turning bodily in his seat and craning his head towards his friend. “You act like you’ve never been shot before.”

“I’m retired,” he replies. “Think I forgot how much this sucks.”

You nod, almost to yourself, emitting a simple, assenting, “Yeah.”

Frankie leans back, still remaining sideways in the seat, his stare now wholly on you. You glance over and see his brow scrunch in… is it concern? Or merely curiosity? “You’ve been shot?” he asks, an odd edge to his voice.

Again, you nod. “I have. Didn’t care for it.”

“See, Fish,” Will mumbles from the back as he slips further down the seat in an effort to find some semblance of comfort. “Maybe you’ve been so busy flying around rich businessmen in the private sector that you’ve also forgotten how shitty this is.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” he mutters with a frown.

Will cocks his head at you – not that you can see it, eyes remaining trained on the road lest you get another watch where you’re goingevil stare from the man by your side. “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You snort out a short laugh, glancing quickly at Frankie and saying softly – and more than a little bit condescendingly – “He likes to call me sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man in the back sighs out, waving a dismissive hand through the air. “Guess I’m just a run-of-the-mill chauvinist.”

You shrug. “I never said anything about you being run-of-the-mill.” And from your right, you hear a soft snicker. A gentle smile spreads across your face and your hands loosen their death grip on the steering wheel just a bit as you feel the air filling the van begin to lighten, tension seeming to slowly spill away. After a lingering – but not at all wrought – moment, you shift a bit in your seat and say, “Went on a raid just outside of Tijuana. My first down in Mexico. And I took a bullet in the hip.”

“Shit,” Will intones. “Hell of a bienvenido.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, suddenly all-too conscious of the old ache in your joint that’s been plaguing you all day. “But on the plus side, I’m now always the first to know when it’s about to rain.”

Both men laugh. You laugh – despite the pain in your hip and the worry about the guy in back… and your terribly distracting infatuation with the wide smile now painted on Frankie’s face. You all sit in the van – on your way to flee the country after committing a terrible crime – and laugh about the fact that, despite each of you being a little bit broken, none of you are dead yet.

Taglist:

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @icanbeyourjedi @greeneyedblondie44 @mrscrain-x7 @kyjoraven@elephants-are-a-thing @nakhudanyx

[iam93percentstardust]

hey! i hope you’re having an amazing day. this is just me popping in your inbox to say that’s youre one of my favourite writers and you got me really interested in winteriron (honestly one of the cutest ships) are there any fics/authors ii could reccomend?

Hi there! Thank you so much! I love this ship so much, they’ve got such potential for both fluff and angst. They really are one of my favorite ships to write and I’m glad I was able to write so much for them this year. I certainly do have plenty of recs for you, starting with my favorite authors:

@riotwritesthings: started writing last year, I highly recommend just about everything Riot writes but especially Road Hazards, Melt into Me (Your Words are My Own), and When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)

@hddnone: so many stories and all so good! Has nearly 100 Winteriron works on ao3 and you will not regret reading any of them, though fair warning that some of them are Team Cap Critical. Especially recommend Honey Pot, You’ve Got Mail, and A Bit(e) of Danger

@monobuu: mostly an artist but sometimes writes stories as well. i recommend Ravioli, Invincible Summer, and Meet the Fam

@tisfan and @27dragons: can’t make a Winteriron rec list without including the both of them. They work together a lot but you should definitely take a look at their own stuff as well. I recommend Safe and (the) Sound, Kiss Me Thru the Phone, and Stark, Naked

@ad1thi: currently taking a bit of a hiatus and working on non-Marvel works but I love everything Adi writes, particularly her entire Bollywood but Make it Gay series, which isn’t always Winteriron but wonderful nonetheless. I recommend the Greek Gods AU, 1000 Lives (For You), and we’re connected

@the-winter-writer: lots of smut and all absolutely fantastic! I like Precious Treasure, Winter Wings, and Instinct

@rayshippouuchiha: definitely an iconic writer for this fandom. Really great if you’re looking for genderbends. Writes a lot of absolutely incredible fics and not just for Winteriron but my personal favorites are The (Not So) Great Pretender, Fearful Symmetry, and The Mistletoe Kiss Polka

Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar): once again very iconic. you’ve probably read at least one of their works even if didn’t know. I recommend Shameless, Today’s Forecast, and Practice Makes Perfect

@lovelyirony: mostly writes ficlets here on tumblr and a multishipper (I don’t know why I’m saying that like it’s a bad thing, I’m a multishipper), also a fan of Sharon Carter and that’s the thing that made me follow her so you know

@amethystinawrites: I only recently started working their works but I’m loving everything I’ve come across so far. I recommend Tech Support and I Won’t Hold My Breath

AvocadoLove: also writes a lot of Stony and Stuckony, which I love a lot, but for their Winteriron works, I recommend Amalgam and Dead Man’s Switch

Dracusfyre: another one I’m new to. I literally just started reading their works today so I don’t have any recs for them yet but one of my friends loves them so I’m going to go with you should definitely take a look at their works

Eirlyssa: has some anti-Team Cap works so keep an eye out for that if that’s not your thing but writes very good Winteriron. I recommend Guide Me Home (Guide My Heart) and Always (I’ll Be There)

@imposter-human: one of the first MCU blogs I ever followed! I recommend childhood memories, speak my language, and lost in translation

As for specific works I like:

Four Strings and Second Chances by Vashoth

It was reluctance to let one of his finest inventions ever out of his grasp that made him take a couple days over a week to send the arm to Pepper’s office. But all things considered, Tony figured that sending finest prosthetic that had ever come into existence--literally grasping an olive branch--was one of the classiest gifts he’d ever given. He’d included a note and everything. ‘Barnes,

Can help with installation. Or not. Up to you. --Stark'

Who is the Mechanic? by @akira-of-the-twilight

The Asset watched as his handlers brought in a stranger—a man with a metal object stuck to his chest that was hooked to a car battery.

The handlers shoved the man onto the stool where many who had operated on the Asset’s arm in the past had sat before.

“Asset,” one handler said, “meet the Mechanic. He will be responsible for the upkeep of your arm. Should anything malfunction, kill him.”

The Asset eyed the Mechanic. The Mechanic was glassy-eyed and unresponsive.

He’d probably be dead in a week.

The Fix by SleepsWithCoyotes

Right, because Tony...Tony fixes things. He remembers thinking that, not for the first time.

Paths are Made by Walking by @potrix-the-queerschlaeger

The road to recovery is long, winding and a different one for every person walking it. Bucky chooses to help himself the only way he knows how; by doing what he does best.

Or, alternatively; the one in which Tony is a mess and accidentally kick-starts Bucky’s protective mother hen instincts.

The Evidence by StrivingArtist

Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.

Fuck it.

He knew they noticed.

And he knew they liked him better this way.

Shadowed Hearts and Winter Souls by NotEvenCloseToStraight

The mid-1800s and Antonio Carbonell Stark is caught in a scandal with his lover. Desperate for a chance to escape the trouble and his own broken heart, Tony accepts a proposal from a mysterious Russian heiress and flees the country.

Natalia Romanova is in trouble of her own and has enough secrets to make Tony's head spin but somehow they settle into a fake marriage and calm day-to-day together, and everything works... until her half brother comes home and their life is disrupted again.

James is somber and silent, brutal and nearly broken and scarred, a soldier of the resistance. His heart is cold and gaze like ice, but his hands are hot and lips are warm and Tony finds himself ignoring the blood on James's palms and the shadows in his soldier’s eyes, and falling in love.

When danger lands at their doorstep, Natalia and Tony have to pack up and leave, running away in the middle of the night and leaving their men behind.

The distance between Tony and James gets longer every day, and Natalia has been keeping a secret for that can’t be hidden much longer. With no place to call home and a thousand miles between them and the men they love, what are Tony and Natalia supposed to do?

Puppy Love by Reioka

Bucky is learning to become a person again. When some guy starts crying all over Natasha's dog, he decides he's doing better than he originally thought.

Describe Your Perfect Date by ali_aliska

After getting turned down by Bucky, Tony decides it’s time to move on from his massive crush. He tries online dating—Pepper’s idea, not his—but the only thing worse than getting rejected is getting rejected and finding out your soulmate-level match is Clint Barton, all in the same day.

Clint, of course, does not let opportunities like this go to waste, but he’s driving Tony nuts for a good cause, he swears.

Bucky’s just trying to do the right thing and fails spectacularly, but it all works out in the end.

Rocket Science by marsmaywonder and orbingarrow

Sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated, grad student Tony falls asleep in a conveniently empty classroom and wakes up in the middle of Bruce’s Physics 101 course. After seeing a groggy Tony fumble a simple question, actual-student Bucky offers to tutor him. In a moment of “oh no; he’s cute” panic, Tony takes him up on it. Now, in addition to his already complicated life, Tony has to figure out the answer to the incredibly messy question: “How do you look like you’re failing the class, when you literally wrote the book?”

What’s Good for the Goose by Taste_is_Sweet

For this nonny prompt at the Imagine Tony and Bucky comm on Tumblr:

"A soulmate AU where an immortal goose shows up one day to lead you to your soulmate, the challenge is surviving the goose." (Full prompt in notes.)

We all have soulmates, and every soulmate pair shares an animal guide. The Guide is there to lead you to your One True Love, and they represent the aspects of the psyche that you both share. They appear when you're about to meet your soulmate, and often materialize in moments of great personal crisis, offering hope and support. There are stories upon stories about how someone's Guide appeared to lead them to their One True, or how the barest glimpse of their Guide eased their hearts and gave them hope in the midst of despair. The newly-rescued almost always attribute their Guide with giving them the strength and courage to hang on.

Animal Guides are ephemeral, ethereal, and elusive. They are, most often, no more than a warm presence or flicker out of the corner of one's eye. They are incarnate symbols of perseverance, optimism and hope. Foretellers of happiness, and the grand destiny of love.

Except for geese. Geese are assholes.

and so, we unfold by TheKitteh

Senbazuru. Thousand Cranes.

An ancient Japanese legend that promises anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. Some stories believe you are granted happiness and eternal good luck, instead of just one wish, such as long life or recovery from illness or injury.

Bucky’s not big on believing in any legends, not after all that has happened. He just wants to create something for a change, not destroy.

He needs to prove himself that he can be trusted to handle something delicate. He doesn’t need a promise of a wish come true. He just,- needs to do this for himself.

He doesn’t need noticing how sad, tired Stark looks. Doesn’t need to want to do something for the man, when he can barely do anything for himself. --- Tony simply goes through days and motions. He deals with the Avengers, with R&;D, with the rewritten Accords. All of it, it’s nothing new really. He just wants to get things done.

What’s new is seeing Barnes hunched over the coffee table, one step away from ripping a glossy magazine apart in the middle of the night.

And why the hell Barnes keeps looking at him during the days after like he’s a puzzle to be solved?

Welcome to the Winteriron fandom! We’ve got a lot of incredible authors and artists both and this is just the tip of the iceberg!

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

Extra #10 - pre-fic

[Masterpost]

Anelmemi over on Ao3 commented on chapter 4: “If you’re taking requests or prompts, the line about baby!Lan Zhan with all the intensity of first timeline 30 year old Lan Zhan is an image that stuck with me. The conversation where he tells his mom about everything would make for an interesting extra.”

So here it is! Disclaimer: I’ve gone in a sliiiightly different direction (in that this is 7k words long and they don’t even get to the part where Lan Zhan tells her everything) BUT - that being said - I think I’m going to use this prompt as the first chapter/installment of a selection of scenes from the Wangxian side of the fix-it. Like you know how I said I wrote AEM as a ‘sequel’ to a fix-it fic that doesn’t exist? I’m gonna make the fix-it fic exist, at least in bits and pieces. I guess I already have kind of been doing that with the amount of pre-fic extras I’ve written for this universe, but none of them have been from the Wangxian side of things where the actual fix-it mechanics are happening. Might be time to change that. We’ll see! Either way, here’s some baby-not-actually-baby!Lan Zhan scaring the living hell out of his mom for you <3

----

Lan Zhan opens his eyes with a gasp, the blindingly blue flash of his and Wei Ying’s array gone as suddenly as it had flared. He’s in the dark now, kneeling in the middle of the floor of a room that is definitely not the addition to the Jingshi he had built to be Wei Ying’s workroom. It takes a long moment for his eyes to adjust but when they do he blinks and forces himself to take slow, deep breaths in and out.

He has to stay calm. 

They hadn’t been sure if the array would work, or, if it did, exactly what they would be in for. 

Getting separated was, unfortunately, a distinct possibility. 

It is now his reality. 

He has to focus on what he can control or risk sinking into a despair too deep for him to accomplish the task he and Wei Ying have set for themselves, and he will not break a promise to Wei Ying. They have agreed to try again - he will have to try, and trust that he and Wei Ying will not truly have to be separated again in any life. 

Lan Zhan stands slowly to take stock of the situation and immediately becomes disoriented when he rises to his feet only to find that everything is in nearly the same spot in his vision it had been while on his knees. He glances down at himself and holds a hand up in the moonlight and…

Ah. Childhood. 

That’s...less than ideal. 

Of course while writing the array they hadn’t specified a specific time or age to return to (beyond limiting it to their own lifetimes). To be quite honest Lan Zhan hadn’t entirely been able to follow Wei Ying’s logic for most of the components of the array, but he trusted his husband to ensure it wouldn’t kill them or others. Beyond that, their only desire had been a chance to retain their memories and use the wisdom of their years to heal all the rifts they possibly could in their world, to attempt to soothe the pains that they and everyone they love (who is still alive) have all had to learn to live with.

He’s grateful that it worked.

That being said, he doesn’t particularly want to be a child again. He’s awfully short, after all - and Wei Ying isn’t here, which is perhaps the worst offense. 

He reaches up to touch his cheek as he feels something drip down it and his small fingers come away wet with tears; he suppresses a sigh as he tries not to continue crying. It would seem that a toddler’s body is a bit too small and immature to hold the weight of the grief he carries with him in the depths of his soul, and he can already tell by the feeling rising in his chest that trying to contain it will be useless. He dusts his knees off as more tears start to drip down his cheeks and then he turns to walk sedately across the room to his little bed. He crawls into it, buries his face in his pillow, and promptly starts sobbing, the way he hasn’t since the first time he was this age.

When A-Yuan had still been a toddler, there had been some (many) who accused Lan Zhan of being too soft on the boy. He had been prone to crying if left to his own devices for too long, and after the third time he heard of it happening while A-Yuan was supposedly in the care of those who watched the rest of the sect children, Lan Zhan had insisted that the boy remain with him in his seclusion if Lan Xichen needed to be relieved from watching him to attend to business. It meant that A-Yuan had grown up with less socialization amongst his peers as a young boy, but his nature was such that the lack could hardly be seen by the time he had grown out of his fears of separation to join the other children in their classes.

It had also meant that when A-Yuan cried, he was never without a comforting hand in his hair or on his back, soothing him, reminding him that he was not alone, that he would never be left alone again. If his son was spoiled then so be it, but Lan Zhan would not allow his and Wei Ying’s child to grow up bowed under the cold austerity of a rule warning against excessive grief taken to its most extreme interpretation and weaponized against the grief-stricken. Lan Zhan is intimately aware of the products of that rule, and it’s one he refused to enforce - a decision he has never regretted.

Tonight, however, there’s no one to do the same for Lan Zhan. No one is here to pet his hair or talk softly to him about how the rabbits are doing, or tell him a story of the sort he used to tell A-Yuan to distract him. Lan Zhan, unlike his son, is used to it, and so he cries until his head hurts and then he bundles himself up in the tightest ball of blankets he can manage to try to sleep and wait for morning. It’s strange, trying to sleep without Wei Ying crowded into his space, breathing steadily against his neck and muttering under his breath in between soft snores. He eventually manages it when the moon slips behind the mountain again and the room is plunged into the soft almost-black blue of false dawn. In the gentle hum of the world dipping into its deepest hush outside his window he manages to let his exhaustion take over long enough to get a couple more hours of rest.

Lan Zhan wakes at five.

The gong rings through the mountain in exactly the way it always has and he opens his itchy, tired eyes to begin dressing and preparing for the day. His hands are clumsier than they ought to be, his grip weaker than he can ever remember it being and his limbs slightly less cooperative than he would prefer. He manages not to get too frustrated by the dissonance of it, though by the time Lan Xichen comes to fetch him he’s wearing a truly impressive pout (for him) and he watches, disgruntled, as his brother stifles a laugh behind his sleeve.

“Good morning didi,” Lan Xichen greets when he’s done silently laughing at him and Lan Zhan watches in fascination as his brother - still just a child himself, of course - glances both ways up and down the hallway with a mischievous little smile before dropping to one knee and holding his arms out to him. “You look like you had a bad night. Do you want a hug?”

Lan Zhan’s pouting lower lip trembles as he nods and steps forward slowly to tuck himself into Lan Xichen’s chest.

He honestly can’t remember the last time someone besides Wei Ying hugged him (he supposes it must have been A-Yuan, back before he had grown too old to ask for them anymore), but as Lan Xichen wraps him in his arms it feels so entirely natural that he practically melts, going boneless and rubbing his face into the heavy silk on Lan Xichen’s narrow shoulder like a cat seeking affection. Lan Xichen huffs a soft chuckle and squeezes him a little tighter; Lan Zhan wouldn’t be perfectly happy staying like this forever (he misses Wei Ying, and this isn’t helping them find each other again), but he would be perfectly content to stay there for a few days at least, just being held and cared for by his brother while he’s still small enough to reasonably get away with it.

Of course the list of people that Lan Zhan would tolerate such affection from - at any age - is extremely small, limited only to his immediate family - Wei Ying, A-Yuan, Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren (should he ever be the type to offer it). But as Lan Xichen releases him and reaches down to take his hand, as he leads him out of the children’s dormitories and onto the path outside, Lan Zhan realizes that there’s one person he hadn’t even considered as an option but who, especially in his current state, certainly tops the list.

“Mother,” he whispers with tears in his eyes as Madam Lan stands in the open door to the Jingshi, the familiar home still hers.

“Didi?” Lan Xichen asks, startled, as Lan Zhan pulls his hand from his but he doesn’t stop to answer - instead he runs across the courtyard as quickly as his legs can carry him and up the steps to fling himself into his mother’s arms. He likes to imagine that if he were physically the correct age he would be more composed, but he can’t say with complete certainty that that would be the case. His mother has always been special like that. She was the first to ever make him believe that he could be loved and accepted if he revealed the true depth of his feelings - no one else had been able to make him feel that way after her death until Wei Ying.

As it is, though, as young as he is - with all the tumultuous, too-large feelings of childhood despite the age of his soul - he promptly starts crying as he clings to her. Her hands are soft and gentle as she pets his hair and rubs his back precisely as he had done for A-Yuan as a boy, and Lan Zhan hiccups as he presses in closer.

“Zhan-er,” she says warmly above his head and all it does is make him cry a little harder, the tenderness of the greeting and the fact that he hasn’t heard it from a single soul in 32 years hitting him too hard for his little body to handle. “Oh dear,” she says next and he can hear her smiling, he can feel the way she’s suppressing a laugh in the slight shaking of her shoulder under his cheek and he clings. 

“I think he had a nightmare last night,” Lan Xichen supplies apologetically as he approaches at the properly sedate pace.

“A good thing it’s your day to come visit, then,” she replies softly, implacably, and Lan Zhan nods his agreement as he hiccups and tries to compose himself with little success. “Come in, Huan-er, I’ve got breakfast for us. Let’s see if we can cheer your brother up together, hm?”

Lan Zhan’s stomach swoops as he’s scooped up while Madam Lan stands and he lets himself be carried into the house. He finally manages to get himself somewhat under control after a while of sitting in his mother’s lap and letting her dry his cheeks with her sleeves, but he’s still hiccuping and crying fresh tears every now and then.

He can’t help but stare. It’s been so long since he’s seen her face, and she’s just as beautiful as he remembers, maybe even more so. She’s serene and gentle in a way he really never sees in anyone but perhaps Lan Xichen. Even A-Yuan, as sweet as he is, still carries the mischievous streak planted in him by Wei Wuxian and encouraged by a lifetime of friendship with Lan Jingyi. Whatever she’s done in the past, no matter what anyone else thinks of the incident that had led to her imprisonment, the woman she is now is so kind, so tender, that Lan Zhan has never once in his life understood the continuation of her imprisonment for so many years. 

He watches with wide, solemn eyes as she steadily wipes his cheeks clean when fresh tears replace those that have already fallen, a perpetual little smile on her lips as she talks to Lan Xichen over his head to make sure they both get as much of her attention as they can in their limited time with her.

He eventually manages to stop crying entirely and he’s promptly plied with a bowl of rice for breakfast, which he obediently eats, his eyes still on Madam Lan. He doesn’t want to ever stop looking at her. He had never gotten to say a proper goodbye, had never gotten the closure he needed after her death (not that closure would have helped, most likely. If he’s proven anything to himself it’s that the death of those he loves is not something he handles all that well.)

The point is - his mother was ripped away from him with no warning, and now she’s been returned to him and he will never in this new life take her presence for granted.

As the day goes on and he settles, he can’t shake a feeling of deja vu. It isn’t until they’re nearly ready to leave for the evening that it strikes him.

This is their last day with her. He knows this day, when he had been younger he had replayed the events of it over and over in his mind, searching for something in his behavior that had upset Madam Lan to the point where she didn’t want to see him again. Before he had understood that she had died he had been so sure that it was his fault the door wouldn’t open anymore, that she was inside languishing in disappointment in her youngest son.

And so when Lan Xichen makes as if to bundle him off into the evening just after supper, Lan Zhan takes a page from A-Yuan’s book and sits down to lock his arms around her leg, every ounce of his considerable determination set in stern lines in his serious little face. 

“Didi, we have to leave,” Lan Xichen prods - gently - as he kneels in front of him.

“No,” he protests, his voice petulant but he doesn’t care. He’s not letting her go. He’s here to fix things on a much larger scale than anyone around him can yet understand, but he’s going to begin with their mother. They will get to grow up with a mother this time, and a father too if he has anything to say about it. He can fix things for their family first and let the effect spread outwards from Cloud Recesses. A stone dropped into the center of a pool will create ripples that reach all the way to the edges, and if he begins with Madam Lan’s survival and perhaps her return to the world from her isolation, there’s no telling just yet how far such an influence will spread.

Even if it goes no further than their little family, he doesn’t care. He can fix this, so he will.

“A-Zhan,” Lan Xichen tries next, reaching out to tug gently on his sleeve and he holds on tighter, buries his face in the skirts of Madam Lan’s robes.

“No!”

“It’s alright, Huan-er,” Madam Lan soothes as she drops a hand down to rest on top of his head. “Go on ahead, I’ll make sure Zhan-er gets returned to his rooms in time for curfew.”

Lan Zhan turns his head enough to open one eye so he can watch Lan Xichen have a bit of an internal debate before he nods and straightens up to accept one last hug before he turns to leave. The pair of them, Madam Lan and Lan Zhan, stay still and watch him until he disappears down the path and only then does Madam Lan bend down to put her hands under his arms and lift him up onto her hip. She offers him an indulgent look as she leans in to press their foreheads together and he relaxes instantly.

“Zhan-er, what’s gotten into you today, hm?” she asks softly as she shuts the door with her foot to carry him back inside, sitting down on the edge of her bed to set him down on her knees. It should feel strange, he supposes, to be treated like a child like this, picked up and carried around wherever someone else wants to take him. But he’s never known anything else in regards to his mother, he’s never gotten a chance to both be older than a toddler and to know her. In his memories, this is how he remembers her, and so it doesn’t feel strange at all to sit in her lap and study her face like he’s doing his best to memorize it.

“What’s wrong, Zhan-er?” she asks again, even more softly, as she brushes a few stray hairs back from his forehead and runs her thumb along the silk of his ribbon - it must be brand new for him at this age.

“You are going to die,” he says, deciding then and there that he doesn’t have the luxury of trying to find a way to fix things on his own while trying to hide that he’s really a fully-grown man with a husband and child of his own, that he carries a full life’s worth of pain and experiences. He and Wei Ying had agreed that no matter what happened with the array they wouldn’t tell anyone what they had done - it would defeat the purpose of fixing things, and there was also no guarantee that it wouldn’t do harm. In any other circumstance he would agree it’s better to be safe than sorry, but he’s so young - there’s not much he can do but talk to Madam Lan directly and allow her to handle the situation in his stead - or at least help him - without blowing his cover.

Madam Lan blinks down at him for a moment, a small furrow between her brows. How had he never noticed as a child that she doesn’t wear a headband?

“Who told you such a silly thing?” she asks with a hint of a smile and a little tap of her fingertip against the tip of his nose. “Is that what your nightmare was last night?”

“Mother,” he says as seriously as he can manage. (It’s very difficult to sound grave, he realizes, when he’s a literal 5-year-old [he even still has a bit of a childish lisp] but he needs her to understand.) “I have lived this before. This is the last day you will see Xiongzhang and myself. You are going to die. No one has ever told me how.”

Madam Lan blanches at that, though whether it’s because of what he said or because her 5-year-old son is speaking like an adult or a combination of both he isn’t sure.

“Zhan-er, what...what are you talking about?”

He takes a deep breath in and clambers down off her lap to straighten his robes and dust himself off before he offers her a deep bow. 

“Mother, please listen to me and trust what I say. I am your son, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, current Chief Cultivator. I have already lived this life, and have returned to my childhood through the power of an experimental array I created with my husband, Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng Jiang.”

“Zhan-er,” Madam Lan gasps and he looks up to find her definitely far too pale as he blinks owlishly up at her.

“If I leave tonight without warning you of danger, I fear this will once again be my last memory of you.”

The fear in her eyes makes him feel a bit like squirming with guilt for putting it there, but he holds himself still, watching for a sign that she believes him, that she’s taking him seriously. He knows what he must look like - if A-Yuan had ever suddenly started behaving like he is now he would have been very concerned that he had been possessed. Judging by the look on Madam Lan’s face, it’s entirely possible that that’s exactly what’s on her mind.

“Mother, please, you must believe me. Wei Ying and I wish to right the wrongs done to those around us, to live with no regrets. We have made many painful choices in our lives, as have all of those we care for. We have decided to attempt the impossible and rewrite the past.”

“You..But you....”

Lan Zhan stays still and watches as Madam Lan clearly tries to piece things together. He’s dismayed - though not entirely surprised - when she faints backwards onto the bed, but he supposes it’s better than if she had outright tried to say that he couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. He climbs up onto the bed to sit beside her and make sure she’s otherwise alright before he settles down to wait patiently for her to wake.

It doesn’t take too long, thankfully, and he can’t help but reach out to put the back of one small hand against her forehead to check her temperature when she blinks her eyes open.

“Do you feel alright?” he asks as he watches her face go through a series of interesting emotions in quick succession.

She sits up slowly to look down at him with an expression that seems to have settled on something like incredulity and bemusement. “I think you must see why that question is not easily answered at the moment.”

“Mn. It is a strange situation, I understand,” he agrees solemnly with a nod. Madam Lan raises her sleeve to cover her mouth as she bites back a laugh, the corners of her eyes crinkled with mirth.

“Oh Zhan-er,” she says - and then she’s laughing, truly laughing, one hand over her mouth and the other arm curled around her stomach as she laughs in a way that sounds just this side of manic. Years of being married to Wei Ying and he still doesn’t understand how to handle people who deal with their stress by laughing about it.

“Mother?”

“Oh dear, Zhan-er I’m sorry,” she laughs weakly as she wipes at her eyes. “This is just..Well as you said, this is very strange. And you’ve always been a serious child but this is..I’ve never seen a child behave this way!”

“I am 37.”

“Oh dear. Much too old for hugs, then,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes and Lan Zhan has to think about it for a long, dismayed moment before he realizes he’s being teased. He shakes his head ‘no’ and lets her pull him into her arms again to cradle him close, one arm wrapped around his back and the other over his bent knees to hold him in place. “37, hm?” she asks once they’re settled and Lan Zhan nods. “And married?”

“Yes, mother. I also have a son. He is 24.”

“My own baby, married and with a child, hm? And you said Chief Cultivator?”

“Mn. I do not enjoy such a public position but it is necessary.”

Madam Lan laughs at that, though it’s thankfully less frightening than her laughter at the situation as a whole had been. “I have never heard of such a thing but I can only imagine such a position involves quite a lot of talking to other Sect Leaders, which sounds very unpleasant.”

“Mn.”

They’re both quiet for a few long moments, lost in thought. Lan Zhan is only grateful that Madam Lan seems to believe him, and when she breaks the silence again it becomes clear that that is actually the case.

“You said I am going to die soon,” she murmurs and Lan Zhan can’t resist cuddling closer as the pain of losing her flares too hot, too sharp through him.

“I remember this day,” he replies after a few deep breaths and a chance to gather his thoughts. “It is the last day we were allowed to visit. I do not know when, precisely, you passed away, but by the next appointment we were no longer allowed to visit, and...when I came to kneel anyway every month after, your door never opened for me.”

“And you are telling me all of this now to prevent it happening again.”

“Mm. Wei Ying and I performed the spell last night, I am still becoming accustomed to being a child again. I apologize for my outbursts, it is..difficult to control my emotions while so young.”

“Zhan-er, you never have to apologize to me for your feelings,” Madam Lan chastises gently. “No matter your age. I have never wanted you and Huan-er to be raised so..rigidly.”

“Who is keeping you imprisoned?” Lan Zhan asks softly - a question that’s been on his mind since he had been this age originally, and which no one has ever sufficiently answered for him. “Xiongzhang and I always wished we could be raised by you.”

Madam Lan sighs heavily at that and holds him a little tighter. “Qiren is so strict with you two,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “I’ve tried telling your father that you two are growing up to be so serious, so unhappy, but he won’t hear of it. He’s technically the one keeping me here, though I suspect it’s the clan elders speaking through him.”

Lan Zhan can’t help but glare at the wall when the elders are mentioned. The only other person in the world he wishes to argue with as much as he does the elders is Jiang Wanyin.

“I will fix it,” he vows with grim determination.

“Zhan-er,” Madam Lan instantly chastises and he shakes his head, already intent on arguing whatever point she feels needs to be made.

“I will not lose my mother again. The elders have gone too long without challenge. There are many many good things about the Lan that do not need to change, but there are a great many traditions that have become harmful in their execution at least, if not in nature or original intent. I will fix it.”

“You deserve to have a childhood,” Madam Lan argues right back, equally adamant. “It is your father’s duty to lead the Sect, the elders only advise.”

“Uncle is the acting leader of the Sect,” Lan Zhan retorts with a deepening of his frown, this time in confusion. He leans back to look up at Madam Lan, who’s blinking down at him in something like surprise, if a bit muted. “Father is in seclusion, he never again ran the Sect before his death during my boyhood.”

Lan Zhan stays quiet as he watches Madam Lan think through that, wondering just what exactly she’s thinking. Perhaps comparing what she thought she knew to this new information? 

It seems that may be the case when she quietly murmurs,“Well that..that does change a few things,” after a long while, her eyes distant. “Maybe we should compromise. You can tell me what you know, and perhaps what you plan to do in regards to the elders, and I will do my best to listen and perhaps together we can come up with something that will work. Does that sound alright?”

Compromise. Lan Zhan hates compromise, has hated it with a passion since the day he watched the Sect Leaders of his youth decide that ‘compromise’ meant ‘kill Wei Wuxian’, and he definitely hasn’t grown any fonder of it since it’s become his turn to ‘compromise’ with many of those same Sect Leaders on a near daily basis as the Chief Cultivator. But these are, he will admit, wildly different circumstances, and for a much better purpose than yet another boundary dispute or arguing over who should receive more disciples from the local families.

He nods and opens his mouth to begin the story at the beginning - and yawns so widely his jaw gives a tiny little pop.

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan chuckles as she snuggles him tighter and rocks him slightly back and forth. It’s shocking how heavy his eyelids feel all of the sudden as she does so and he huffs a sigh with an accompanying pout, irritated with his young body that apparently tires far too quickly. “I believe our plan shall have to wait until morning. You’ve had a long day.”

“Being a child is frustrating,” he confesses and Madam Lan laughs her bright, bell-like laugh - hearing it has always been one of his most treasured memories and to hear it now again in the flesh makes him so happy his irritation with his youthful limitations dissipates in an instant.

“I would imagine so. What an interesting puzzle you are, my Zhan-er,” she sighs as she continues rocking him gently, the repetitive swaying motion dragging his eyelids further and further down despite his best attempts to stay awake. “Such an old soul in the body of a child. So wise and self-assured like an adult, and yet quick to fluster, quick to cry, just like a child. I can only imagine how frustrated you must be.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan manages to hum even as he slips further down into her lap to rest his head in the crook of her elbow, getting comfortable.

“Go to sleep, Zhan-er. We’ll figure this out in the morning, alright? You’re not going to lose me again, I’m here.”

Lan Zhan drifts off to sleep in his mother’s arms for the first time in his life that he can remember, and it’s mercifully deep and dreamless.

----

When Lan Zhan wakes in the morning it’s with a gasp and the vague fear that his mother has, despite his best intentions, died inexplicably once again in the middle of the night. He sits up quickly and looks around the Jingshi just as the gong tolls and he only relaxes when he realizes that she had made him a little nest of blankets to rest in on the outer edge of the bed while she had taken the inside beneath the window.

He clambers down out of bed to go about getting ready for the day. He locates his ribbon where Madam Lan had removed it for him and carefully coiled it into a neat loop; he’s moments away from putting it on before he sets it down again to wait. Wei Ying likes to put it on for him these days - or rather, he supposes, in the future (this is going to give him a headache) - and while Wei Ying can’t do it for him right now, he feels it would be equally as special to ask his mother to help him with it instead.

He explores the Jingshi, acquainting himself with how Madam Lan organizes the familiar space. He finds basic food stored near the small hearth the house had contained before he had modified it himself to accommodate cooking for A-Yuan as a boy, and he takes a moment to set out what they’ll need for breakfast before he withdraws again to meditate. Perhaps, he supposes, if he can center himself and calm his energy he’ll be able to avoid further emotional outbursts. If he’s going to tell his mother all the details of his first life while so emotionally volatile, it’s going to be a very long day indeed. He’ll appreciate beginning it more at peace than he had begun the day before.

He settles into the familiar pattern of breathing and being, just..existing, doing his best to feel and let go, to accept that this is his reality now. He’s starting his life over. He can try again. He can not only avert the broad tragedies that had affected the world at large, he can also repair his own life.

The most obvious personal change will be that he can openly love Wei Ying from the moment they see each other again. He can live an entire lifetime with his beloved at his side, his other half, the bright sun to his distant moon.

Perhaps less obvious of a consequence but one that he suddenly realizes he wants just as badly - he can be closer to his family. Raising A-Yuan had taught him much about the sort of family he wanted to have. The closeness, the affection, the warmth present in their home even when he had been outwardly as cool and aloof as ever. He had never let A-Yuan believe for a moment that he wasn’t adored, he had taught him how to see Lan Zhan’s love for him, had taught him that it was boundless, had taught him to turn that love outwards in a way that Lan Zhan had never been allowed to. He had raised their son to be sweet and kind to everyone he met, Wei Ying had taught him to smile and laugh and to understand so he could forgive.

He can do that again, but this time he’ll start with the members of his family he had been too late to understand the first time. He can help guide Lan Xichen through the confusing mires of childhood, attempt to create an even closer relationship between them than in their first life - a relationship in which they’re free to just be brothers and Lan Xichen doesn’t have the weight of being his Sect Leader on his shoulders as well. He can ensure that they get to grow up with a mother to guide them, her gentle affection thawing the cold austerity the Lan push their children into. He can save Father, he can keep Uncle from becoming bitter and overly rigid in his ways. There’s so much time stretching out ahead of them, he’s sure he can repair their fractured little family and help nurture it into something beautiful.

“Zhan-er?” Madam Lan calls some time later and Lan Zhan opens his eyes to find her already ready for the day with his ribbon in her hands, her expression a question.

“My hands are still clumsy with childhood,” he replies solemnly, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Will you tie it for me?”

“Of course,” she agrees with a faint hint of a smile. “May I assume you’re still an adult in there?” she teases gently as she knees behind him to start threading the ribbon through his simple hairstyle and tie it securely.

“Mn. I am making plans.”

“I can’t wait to hear them.”

Lan Zhan hums his acknowledgement just as she finishes tying his ribbon and he can’t help but relax when she puts her hands on his shoulders to smooth out the fabric of his little robes and sweep his hair properly behind his neck. They’re interrupted by a sudden knock at the door and Lan Zhan frowns, though Madam Lan doesn’t seem surprised at all. Rather she stands and crosses the house with graceful steps and after a moment Lan Zhan stands to drift after her silently.

“Lan Qiren,” she greets with ice in her voice as soon as the door opens and Lan Zhan blinks in surprise. Uncle? He had always thought that Lan Qiren never approached the Jingshi while it was still Madam Lan’s residence - he and Lan Xichen had been making the journey to it from the dormitories unaccompanied since the visits began, and he supposes now that he had just..never bothered to wonder who else came to see Madam Lan besides them and the servants who tended to her. She doesn’t sound surprised, though, to have Lan Qiren on her doorstep, so it must not have been entirely outside the realm of possibility.

“Wen Yun.”

Wen Yun? Wen?

Lan Zhan feels like he just got hit with a hammer between the eyes.

He had never known his mother’s name. Perhaps most people would find that strange, but Lan Zhan had never truly questioned it (beyond wishing that he did know it). She was a criminal in the eyes of the Lan Sect after all; certainly no one had ever thought to tell him her given name when he had been a child, and by the time he was old enough to know he hadn’t known who or how to ask. She wasn’t even in the clan records - or in the ancestral shrine - as anything but Madam Lan, reduced to nothing more than her married title that she hadn’t even wanted. The disrespect of it still rankles him to this day. But..

Wen Yun. She’s a Wen. He is a Wen, certainly by blood if never knowingly by name. That’s..an interesting thing to process. Even more interesting that Lan Qiren has known, all this time, and had never breathed a word of it to anyone that Lan Zhan was aware of, even before the Wens’ destruction during the Sunshot Campaign. He hadn’t expected to be quite so caught off guard by anything he could learn by returning to his childhood, considering he had already lived it once, but clearly he’s going to need to rethink that very quickly.

“Wangji.” Lan Qiren’s voice is sharp, remonstrative, and Lan Zhan instantly focuses on the present again. He can’t, under any circumstances, let Lan Qiren know that he is who he is, but he also can’t help but feel an all-too-familiar surge of (perhaps slightly petty) rebellion in his chest at that tone of voice, at being scolded like the young child he outwardly appears to be. He looks up at Lan Qiren impassively, his face solemn, as he holds his hand up for Madam Lan to take. As he is intimately aware, there’s no time like the present to begin changing things for the better.

Madam Lan slips her hand into his instantly, giving his fingers a little squeeze, and Lan Zhan sets his jaw stubbornly. He’s got an ally in her, and he’s nearly forty years old. He can face down Lan Qiren, he’s done it plenty of times already for what he thinks is right.

“Wangji, let go. Your time to visit your mother is long over.”

Lan Zhan watches Lan Qiren’s anger with a detached sort of interest, tipping his head slightly to the side and shuffling closer to Madam Lan’s skirts as if to hide in them, though of course he isn’t in the least afraid.

“Staying,” he announces with all the gravity he can muster. He really wishes in that moment that he could sound at least somewhat closer to his actual age rather than having to do his best with the sweet, high voice of childhood, but oh well. It still clearly startles Lan Qiren, that he would talk back, and Lan Wangji meets his gaze evenly.

“Wangji!”

“I will be raising my son from now on,” Madam Lan suddenly declares. “Huan-er as well, if he wants me to.”

Lan Qiren splutters in a way that Lan Zhan finds...kind of funny, actually. He’s only ever known Lan Qiren as stoic (with a small range of other emotions couched within that stoicism) or angry, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so...gobsmacked.

“You - the elders -“

“Oh, I didn’t realize the elders had taken over raising them,” Madam Lan replies with ‘innocent’ curiosity. “I was under the impression that they were still your responsibility, Qiren, and that concerns about their upbringing should be brought to your feet.”

Lan Qiren huffs out a frustrated sigh and Lan Zhan tips his head to the other side as he watches, able to study Lan Qiren with all the experience of a full life spent as his ward.

He knows, of course, that Lan Qiren loves him and Lan Xichen as if they’re his own children, and that that affection started when they were handed off to him as mere infants, just old enough to leave the wet nurses. By this point in time, Lan Qiren has had five years to raise Lan Wangji and eight for Lan Xichen - that affection for them is clearly already firmly in place. After all, it’s Lan Qiren who had held them when they were too young to walk on their own yet, who had rocked them to sleep and taught them their first lessons - how to talk, how to eat, how to read, how to count.

But Lan Zhan also knows that Lan Qiren is already a much stricter hand than they really need. He’s spent a lot of time meditating on the peculiarities Lan Qiren had possessed as a parental figure, and while he still can’t conclusively point to the root of his behaviors, he already knows how it will end if allowed to continue - with Lan Zhan himself cold and rigid but for a small handful of people whom he still struggles to show outward affection towards, and with Lan Xichen pouring kindness and gentleness out onto others to soften the blows of the world until he’s left with none to offer himself. 

Lan Zhan knows Lan Qiren loves them, but he also knows that that love could be shown in much healthier ways if they’re all allowed to recover. 

“The elders won’t ever allow this,” Lan Qiren finally snaps, his eyes flickering briefly down to Lan Zhan and then back up to Madam Lan. “And I won’t plead your case.”

“Oh,” she says idly. “Well that’s a shame, then, I would have appreciated the support.” Lan Zhan looks up as his mother looks down at him and he can’t help but feel safe as she offers him a quick wink, out of Lan Qiren’s view. “I guess Zhan-er and I will have to make our case to the elders ourselves.” 

Lan Zhan nods once at that and squeezes her hand to let her know it’s alright with him and Ford into his plans.

“Wangji?” Lan Qiren prompts and Lan Zhan looks up at him, reads the fear behind the indignation, the hurt feelings behind his censure. But with the foresight that Lan Zhan has, he trusts that if they change this, if they give his mother a reason to live again, that everyone in their family will be better for it. Happier. 

A little pain is necessary for growth and change - an old tree must fall to allow the new to grow, the winter snows have to come and melt away again to refresh and awaken the world properly in the spring.

Lan Zhan lets go of Madam Lan’s hand to step forward and wrap his arms around Lan Qiren’s leg, holding onto him tightly and hugging him with all the strength and affection he can muster for the man for a long moment - a goodbye to the man who had raised him, who will soon become a different man than Lan Zhan knows - before he lets go again to take his mother’s hand and lead her back into the Jingshi.

She shuts the door gently with Lan Qiren standing shocked on the other side of it.

They have plans to make, and time is of the essence. 

[engagedzukka]

Ok so ur Taylor Swift Zukka playlist is *chefs kiss* and I need to add that my tears ricochet is 10000 percent about Zuko’s relationship with his family and no one can convince me otherwise

FIRST of all, thanks for listening! 

SECOND of all, thanks for giving me a platform to ramble even MORE about this!

THIRD of all, about my tears ricochet.....

I know you said that no one can convince you otherwise, but have you considered the possibility that MTR is not about Zuko, but rather about Azula?

Because what is MTR about? It’s about stooping low, refusing to take the high road, and instead vowing to take revenge when someone you love, and someone who claims to love YOU, has hurt you. this is very in-line with Azula’s mindset around the time of the final Agni Kai against Zuko. 

I think MTR fits much more with Azula’s perspective than it does with Zuko’s for three main reasons: 1) Azula’s attacker (Zuko) claims to act based on selfless motivation; on the other hand, Zuko’s attackers (Azula, Ozai) never claimed to act out of anything besides self-interest; 2) Azula’s attackers (Zuko, and to some extent Ozai and Ursa) claim to view her in a positive light, whereas Zuko’s attackers (Azula and Ozai) do not claim to view him that way; and 3) Azula lashes out against Zuko and the other people close to her out of anger and a desire to inflict pain and instill fear; Zuko is only the aggressor when defending himself or pursuing what he views as a higher moral ideal. 

ANALYSIS UNDER THE CUT CAUSE THIS GOT LONG 

1) Azula’s antagonists claim the moral high ground. Zuko’s do not. 

Consider the following lyrics: 

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around saving face

I think this lyric really serves to capture Azula’s state of mind following the final Agni Kai. Zuko, after taking the throne, is the “hero,” pretending to save the Fire Nation from its past. Obviously, Azula fails to see or to accept that this motivation is genuine, because to her, being the Fire Lord is personal. It’s not about pursuing a higher ideal; it’s about securing power for herself (which in turn is a way of securing the affirmation she desperately craves from her father). 

On the other hand, it’s highly unlikely Zuko would ever characterize Azula or Ozai as acting like a “hero.” He sees them for what they are, and they see themselves that way, too. 

Additionally: 

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears

You HAD to kill me. You had some moral OBLIGATION to kill me. Zuko’s abusers never felt the need to extinguish him, and this is borne out by the fact that they never actually did. He was never dangerous or important or powerful enough. But it’s different for Zuko - he HAS to put a stop to Azula’s reign, or countless people will be hurt. Thus, I think this line makes a lot more sense coming from Azula’s perspective, speaking to Zuko. 

Also, Zuko doesn’t think Azula turned into her worst fears. He thinks she became exactly what she wanted to be, a dictator with unlimited authority. But Azula thinks Zuko became HIS worst fears by becoming an arbitrary, power-hungry leader, one willing to take out his own sister to get what he wants. 

2) Azula’s antagonists claim to love her. Zuko’s do not. 

It’s likely that Azula would disbelieve or mischaracterize Zuko’s mourning of her, as Taylor does in the following lines: 

And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

When Zuko defects from the Fire Nation, he has no expectation that anyone in his family will be “wishing he stayed.” There is no genuine mourning of the loss of Zuko, and he doesn’t think there will be. Neither Azula nor Ozai ever make any sort of public claim that they wish he stayed, not after Day of Black Sun. 

On the other hand, Azula likely does hear Zuko mourning her loss, post Agni-Kai. I think we can all imagine that after Azula is committed for treatment and Zuko has ascended to power, Zuko will likely make clear that he is remorseful for what happened to Azula and expressly wish that things were different. And if you’re Azula, the person Zuko is “mourning” after he beat her and took away what was rightfully hers, how would you react to that? You would think it was disingenuous. You would ask, if I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? If you’re the one who finished me, how can you despair that I’m finished? 

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones 

In case it isn’t clear without the context of the song, in this line Taylor is basically saying: you can hurt me, but you’ll regret it, because you’ll be hurting yourself, too.

Now, after Zuko defected for the last time from the Fire Nation, I don’t think he has any fantasy that Ozai or Azula will be “missing him in their bones.” He has come to recognize their family dynamic for what it is, one based on manipulation as opposed to love. He doesn’t think they’ll regret the hurt they’ve caused him, and he accepts that. 

But at the time of the final Agni Kai, Azula hasn’t had this revelation yet. She DOES think she will be missed eventually, either by Zuko or by Ozai. She does think that time will tell, and Zuko will come to regret hurting her, that he’ll miss her in his bones. And honestly, that’s probably an accurate assessment to some extent! 

And you're tossing out blame  Drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years

Azula sees Zuko as “crossing out the good years” of their childhood friendship, whereas Zuko has come to realize by now that there were no good years, not really. Thus, this line makes a lot more sense coming from Azula’s perspective. 

Finally: 

And I still talk to you When I'm screaming at the sky And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies

When Zuko has given up on his family, I don’t think it can be said that he’s still reaching out to them (”I still talk to you”) or trying to make himself heard by them (”when I’m screaming at the sky”). Nor does it seem like he expects for them to haunted by his memory (his “stolen lullabies”). It’s more likely he believes they will be apathetic. 

On the other hand, I think it’s likely that Azula would continue lashing out at Zuko after she’s locked up - even if it will never really reach him. Even if it’s just screaming at the sky. And more importantly, I think that she would hope that he would be kept up at night thinking of what he did to her. She would want him to hear her stolen lullabies when he can’t sleep. She would want him to be haunted by his memory. She would EXPECT him to be. I don’t think Zuko ever wished anything like this on Ozai or Azula, and I don’t think he EXPECTED this from them, either, because he doesn’t believe either of them ever truly cared about him at all.

3) Azula's motivations are personal. Zuko’s are not.  

THIS, the idea of taking revenge against a lost love who betrayed you, is at the core of my tears ricochet. And that’s the primary reason why I think this song fits Azula so much better than it fits Zuko. Zuko doesn’t fight Azula because he wants revenge; he does it because it’s what he thinks is right for the Fire Nation and the world as a whole. Azula is objectively dangerous and needs to be incapacitated for reasons that are not personal to him. On the other hand, consider these lines: 

And if I'm on fire You'll be made of ashes, too

and

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

Both of these lyrics refer to the decision to commit a violent act, not to pursue some higher ideal (like ending a war), but out of anger for an act committed against oneself. I find that both of these lines go a long way to describe Azula’s mindset DURING that final Agni Kai, when she forfeits the fight and decides to aim for Katara instead of Zuko. At that point, Azula knows she’s losing. She knows Zuko has KILLED her, metaphorically, and maybe a literal execution is soon to follow. And what does Azula do in that moment? She doesn’t have it in herself to go with grace. She doesn’t accept that she’s lost. Instead she fights dirty. She makes it personal. 

Zuko never goes there. Azula does. AZULA’S tears ricochet. Which is why I will always, more than anything, associate this song with her. 

And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake? Cursing my name Wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet. 

LISTEN FOR YOURSELF AND DECIDE.

[kyber-crystal]

lost in space || s.r

summary: post-IW in which you’re stuck on the ship with tony and nebula. knowing you didn’t have much time left before oxygen levels ran out for good, you decide to send a final goodbye message to the man you’ve grown to love over the past several years.

words: ~2.1k

warnings: angst in the beginning, fluff, major feels, worried steve ;-p

a/n: i took inspo for another oneshot like this that i read but then i got a bunch of new related ideas, so here we go!

22 days.

22 days of drifting through empty space with Tony and Nebula.

After day 16, you began losing hope in returning home. Nobody had to say anything for you to put two and two together and realize you didn't have much longer before what little was left of your oxygen supply ran out. So this had the three of you accepting you wouldn't make it through, opting to make the best of the time you had left. Your breathing became more heavy and labored, as the act of taking a single breath had now grown more difficult with each passing minute.

While she didn't want to admit it, Nebula thought having you and Tony by her side was much better than imagining being alone. It was an unspoken agreement that you all enjoyed each others' company; seeing you were all you had now after losing almost everything.

You exhaled as you sat in the cockpit of the ship, chin resting in your hand as you gazed out the glass dome and took in the eerie yet beautiful sight that space had to offer.

Feeling a rough hand clasp your shoulder, you turned around to see Tony standing there.

"Hey," he smiled softly, holding his remaining granola bar out to you. "You haven't eaten all day. Why don't you take the rest of this."

"No, I can't do that," you shook your head. "You need to eat, too."

"Your health is just as important, Y/N. You've lost too much weight in these past three weeks."

"Haven't we all."

"Just take it."

Knowing he wasn't going to stop arguing, you mumbled a 'thank you' and took the bar from him, taking a small bite.

You pushed yourself out from your chair and took a seat next to him, lowering yourself to the ground on the steps as he leaned his helmet against the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving them a message. In case things go wrong, and...we don't make it," he replied as he took in a deep breath and began fiddling with the helmet, flicking a switch inside it before tapping its' side, projecting a blue light over you two.

"Tony...we're literally going to die. I don't get why you're doing this, Steve and the others probably think we're already dead..."

"Might as well say a last good bye, then. And, recording...is this thing on?" He tapped the side of the helmet again. "Hey, Miss Potts...Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're...if you're still...Oh, god. I hope so. Today is day 21, uh..."

"22," you corrected as you leaned back against the wall. “Or 23. Wait no, 22.”

"Yeah, 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, thanks to the blue meanie back there."

"You’d love her. She’s very practical," you added, "Only a tiny bit sadistic."

"Anyway...some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it. And Pep, I...I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like...well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that...when I drift off, I will think about you. Because it's always you."

You both fell into silence afterwards and you quickly looked away, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to try and stem the flow of tears that threatened to spill. Tony must've noticed the look on your face, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder as you stared blankly out ahead.

This really was it. When you imagined dying, you saw yourself going down on the battlefield, maybe jumping into the crossfire to save someone. Or simply passing in your sleep, dying of old age, anything but being unable to breathe.

You didn't think you'd meet your demise by running out of oxygen as you drifted mindlessly through space.

"Why don't you talk to Capsicle," Tony finally spoke up several minutes later. "This might be your only chance to get the closure you've wanted for so long."

"I'm not...it's not like that," you sighed, running a hand down your face. "He's just a friend."

"Don't bullshit me, Y/N. I know you're in love with him."

You let out another sigh, staring at his helmet blankly for a moment before opening your mouth to speak.

"Hey, Cap. You know, for the longest time, I was stuck trying to figure out what I was really meant to do, why I was ever placed on the earth to begin with," you spoke, looking out the glass at the darkness of space again, "When Fury first recruited me to the initiative, I was...I was in a dark place. And I didn't know how to get out. I felt stuck, frustrated...lost. I felt like I wasn't worthy or even the slightest bit prepared to take on the responsibilities of a hero because of all that I'd done in the past. I'd committed my fair share of sins, and...it all came down to a point where I almost lost the will to keep going, to keep living. My demons held me back from the perfect life I so desperately wanted and followed me everywhere I went. But then you came along, and for the first time in a long time, I started to hope, to...feel things again. You taught me that there was such a thing as second chances and forgiveness, that it's okay to make mistakes, and most importantly, I was meant to feel things; to love.

"You taught me that I was meant to feel happy, to allow myself the chance at living that burden-free life. That I didn't have to feel so doubtful when something good happened because all I'd ever learned was to feel suspicious when an event occurred in my favor. God, I really do owe you, huh? I honestly don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you. Maybe spiral down into an endless pit of despair and destruction? But really, I'm grateful that you walked into my life. I don't know how I'm supposed to repay you for all that you've given up for me.

You chuckled lightly and sniffled, hastily wiping at your eyes. "I know you're still out there. I hope you are. Because I know Captain America would never go down without a fight. This fight, though...you don't need to keep fighting. I've already accepted my fate. I'm going to die in less than two days...and I'm not bitter or mad at all. Death is inevitable, you know? If there's anything I took away from my torturous days in the Red Room, it was to never fear death because every girl would eventually meet her end. I'll be completely honest with myself here, I don't mind dying alongside these two...Tony and Nebula are some pretty great roommates. Who knew an alien could be so good at paper football?

The helmet flickered and you knew you didn't have much time left. "Steve...I don't want you to look back at all this in pain. I want you to live your best life...one that isn't filled with regret. And if this means moving on, starting anew...then do it. I want you to be happy. Be happy...for me.

Another tear fell, but this time you didn't bother to wipe it away. "I guess since my days are now numbered, I should let this weight off my chest...I love you, Steve Rogers. More than you'll ever know. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and I can only hope you feel the same but I guess I might never know that answer now...we can't always get our happy endings, can we?

"I'm so sorry I didn't get to say goodbye one last time, I love you," you choked out as the recording finally powered down and you let your head fall into your hands, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. The ache of longing to be with him echoed through the marrow of your bones; a chill wind trapped inside your heart and a million little glass shards tearing at your guts. Nausea swirled around in your stomach, head swimming with thoughts as your blood felt like tar, struggling to flow steadily.

Reaching over, Tony carefully grasped your hand, lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. "It's gonna be okay," he muttered, eyes closed as you trained your gaze on the glass. "It's gonna be okay."

It could've been five minutes or five hours later, but suddenly, a vast white light illuminated the space surrounding you, forcing you to shut your eyes again.

As you focused on the bright ball of light, you could make out several features of a woman, though you initially thought you were dreaming. This couldn't be real. Was it?

"Hang in there, guys, I've got you," her voice flooded your ears, before she disappeared from view.

You opened your eyes a second time to see you were speeding towards Earth, the ship slowing down slightly as the familiar outline of America came into view.

Then, a steady jolt of the Benatar indicated you'd hit solid ground, in the middle of the field in the Avengers facility.

Nebula helped Tony up first, then you. The entry hatch opened, and you carefully stepped down the ramp together onto the grass.

It was pitch-black out, the only sources of light coming from the lights that projected from the compound, but it didn't take long for your vision to adjust. A small smile found its way onto your face as you saw six familiar figures came running towards you.

"Oh my God," Pepper cried, throwing her arms around Tony's neck and holding on as if her life depended on it. "Oh my God."

You smiled wistfully as you observed your surroundings, lowering yourself onto the ramp's last set, arms crossed over your chest as you realized just how cold it actually was.

A sudden warmth enveloped you and you felt someone's leather jacket being draped over your shoulders. Seeing Steve's familiar tall figure out of the corner of your eye, you moved over slightly to allow room for him to sit.

He looked over at you in concern, taking in your pale and malnourished figure. His chest ached at the sight.

"I'm okay," you found yourself saying, "don't worry about me."

"I've been worrying about you for the past twenty-two days," he replied, hands in his pockets, "I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," you swallowed hard.

Steve let out a shaky breath and slid an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you rested your forehead on his shoulder.

"I thought you were dead," his voice cracked, "and if you really were, then...I don't know what I'd do."

“Me neither,” you breathed out. “God, I missed you so much.”

Then all of a sudden, the whole word seemed as if it was on standstill as his sapphire blue eyes bored into yours with such an intensity that sent a chill down your spine, keeping you firmly locked in place. And it utterly terrified you because you’d never felt something so intense like this before and he was the reason why you even felt this way to begin with. 

And before you can protest against your own thoughts, you closed your fists around his shirt and gently tugged him towards you, closing the gap and kissing him. The sudden action took you both by surprise but Steve doesn’t waste any time in reacting, moving a hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck to kiss you back. 

Everyone’s too exhausted, too busy feeling relieved at the fact that you returned safely to make a teasing comment towards yours and Steve’s relationship. They’ve secretly been betting for a while that you’d finally get together, though not in this exact way. 

Until Rocket breaks the silence. “Nice welcome back gift, Agent.”

"You cockblock," Nebula flicks him in the head. "Let them have their moment, geez."

[m-y-fandoms]

Danganronpa 1 Girls: adopting an abused child - Headcanons

Request: If it's okay, the DR1 girls with an adopted child that was previously in an intensely abusive living situation? The kid is extremely traumatized by the experience, and is very quiet, fearful and suffers frequent breakdowns and nightmares.

Part 2: Oh! Adopted abused child for DR1 girls anon here... To specify, headcanons.

Of course! A unique request. I’m gonna write this assuming they’ve had the child in their home for a while, maybe a few years, and you can headcanons the girls’ partners versus if they are single moms on your own. This will just be how the DR1 girls treat their adopted, previously abused child. - Mod Kokichi

WARNINGS: past child abuse implied/referenced. Trauma/panic attacks and anxiety

Aoi Asahina:

The queen of three things: sweets, sports, and positive attitudes.

She would definitely use these three skills/interests of hers to help the previously abused child she adopted.

First of all, she’d chosen this child in particular because she saw their profile and asked about them. Her big heart wouldn’t allow her to abandon a child that’s clearly been through a lot of suffering, especially not after her own experience in the killing game.

Despite whether or not she had a partner, she’d want kids when she was able to responsibly care for them. Also, her experience as a big sister would prepare her for kids a little better than an only child.

Sweets: having a panic attack? Here’s some home-made cookies. Bad day at school? Let’s strap on an apron and bake together tonight. Stayed up late with insomnia or nightmares? Well good news, doughnuts for breakfast the next morning!

Sports: being athletic and active herself, Hina would encourage her child to enter team sports to get better at socializing and just learn important motor skills, but she wouldn’t force them into it, knowing crowds or loud noises may overstimulate them.

Maybe she’d have them start small. Table tennis or private swimming lessons. When and if they were ever ready, soccer or lacrosse on the school’s team.

That’s not to say she wouldn’t love and appreciate a more artistically or mathematically inclined child. Sports or not, she’d find a way to use their inherent skills to better them. She’s not one to give up on the people she cares about.

Positive attitudes: slip-ups and panic attacks are nothing to get discouraged about! She would stay up all night with a child going through anxiety, assure them that this too shall pass, and use positive reinforcement.

Sakura Ogami:

Another mom who would seek out sports as a way to ease her child’s suffering.

But unlike Asahina, she’d see sports as more of a way to teach perseverance and self-discipline rather than social skills.

She would want them to learn some type of martial art. It would teach balance, strength, inner-peace, and erase self-doubt.

Plus, learning martial arts would help teach self-defense. She would never want her child to go out until the word helpless and not knowing how to defend themselves should they absolutely have to.

She would enjoy reading to her child at night, and talking at length with them about what was bothering them. She would let them cry onto her strong shoulders, and offer stoic wisdom. She’s like, super good at giving advice.

Loves them unconditionally, is fiercely protective and loyal. A very supportive and loving mother.

Shells out the cash for any and all therapy they need, physical and psychological. She doesn’t see mental illness as a weakness.

Celestia Ludenberg:

This mom, instead of teaching a child to ignore trauma and bullies - be they internalized and metaphorical or external and corporeal - would teach her child how to face their obstacles head on.

Bullies at school? Well we’ll handle that. “They won’t be a problem anymore, trust me.”

PTSD and past trauma? Well we will sit here and talk about these weaknesses until they become our strengths. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and you’ll be undefeatable after all you’ve been through.”

This child will be spoiled, but not in a bratty way. They will simply wear the best clothes, eat the most expensive food, and attend the best schools.

Celestia would play endless card and board games with her child to keep their mind off of darker thoughts.

“Moooom, you cheated again!”

“Oh? Did I~?”

“Yes!” A disgruntled but reluctantly amused smile.

“Well~ I think it is simply that you don’t know how to play this game yet. But one day, you will.”

Kyoko Kirigiri:

At first, it may take her a while to open up and truly be the best mother she can be.

But she understands wanting more from a parent-child relationship, and after a while of doubting herself, would buckle down and do what she needs to do.

Wouldn’t be as pushy with talking about triggering subjects, or entirely comfortable giving advice either.

But is a terrific listener/observer. She walks in after work and sees her kid crying alone in their room. They’d remembered something scary, something they didn’t want to think about, they said.

“I see...well, do you want to talk about it?” And she’d sit there by their bedside until she was sure they didn’t need her any longer.

If single: definitely has a big house, a reputable maid, a nanny, a nice car in the driveway, but still insists on personally packing her kids lunch with a little encouraging sticky note inside.

If she has a partner: can be convinced to be more involved and slowly but surely becomes more hands-on and soccer-momish, minivan and all. Sees her partner’s own parenting skills as a challenge to step it up. Kyoko has all the makings of a great mother, she just won’t let herself see it. A partner would be just the push she needs: a Watson to her Holmes.

Toko Fukawa (I watched the anime and played the three main games so if her personality changes drastically in ultra despair girls and I’m way off I apologize):

Toko knows childhood regret, trauma, nightmares. She understands feeling isolated and different. She would be a very clingy and coddling mother.

If you ever touched a hair on her child’s head, you better just execute yourself before she does.

Sure she’s not the most confident or kind person on her own, but we’ve seen how devoted to and possessive she is of people she cares about.

She’d read to her child nightly, but only what she deemed to be the best children’s literature, of course.

Would love her child more than she loved her own partner. She would feel needed, like someone depended on her for once instead of her tagging along behind someone else.

I think as she boosts her child’s confidence and social skills, her own would grow along with them.

I know she’s getting better every day at controlling her inner demons, and her other half, Syo (I watched like two hours of UDG gameplay so I know this much) but I think she’d be extra careful and determined to have full control once becoming a mother.

Sayaka Maizono:

I think she would see music as an outlet for a hurting child.

Another girl who would have hella money, so she wouldn’t hesitate to get her kid lessons from the best instructors, be they voice or instrumental lessons.

And when her child mentions feeling uncomfortable about leaving the house for unnecessary reasons, especially for going to a public, noisey studio, she would pay extra to have the instructor come to them.

To her, music heals the soul.

When they have nightmares, she’s the most likely of the girls to sing lullabies, being the most talented and confident in her singing voice.

She would definitely want to be a mother one day, but with her time-consuming job, might find adoption easier and less compromising to an idol’s “flawless” body (her manager’s opinion more than her own ugh).

She’d use her intuitive “psychic” abilities to sense when her child was having a particularly rough day, or having more depressing thoughts. I think she’d be one of the ones more suited to deep conversations and true motherly advice.

Junko Enoshima:

I honestly don’t think she’d adopt a child for any wholesome or selfless reason.

She’d adopt a child with PTSD or past trauma in order to feed off of their despair or to teach that already hurting child to hurt others.

She’d be drawn to the more chaotic and/or mentally unwell children, but it would be a mistake to let her near them.

Junko is selfish in every way and would only adopt a child to carry on her evil lineage.

It may not even go that far. She may get bored of them or decide they aren’t worthy of becoming her protege and just dispose of them like an old play thing.

(Sorry Junko stans but I’m not about to pretend she’s just a bratty, preppy rich blonde mean girl type. She’s a selfish and abusive psychopath lmao)

Mukuro Ikusaba:

Another one who probably shouldn’t be a mother.

I do feel bad for her though. Much like Korekiyo, I think their siblings both abused and manipulated them from a young age. They never learned any differently. Still she’s responsible for her bad choices in the series.

Without Junko’s influence, I believe she would be fiercely protective of a child, much like an obsessive mother bear once she retired from mercenary work for good.

But unfortunately, she’s given her life to her abusive sister.

If she had a child, they would either be neglected because she spends all of her time serving Junko or away on dangerous mercenary missions.

Or they would be trained to be an abused slave to their aunt Junko just like Mukuro is.

Junko may manipulate Mukuro into adopting a child, saying things like: “you’re more of the mommy type than me!” Or, “yeah I totally think a despair filled child would be good for you! You could teach it to like kick ass and shit!”

This of course, was all a way to get Mukuro to do all the work of actually raising the child, while Junko warped both of their minds to her cause.

[sweetestlamb]

It Will Rain

Summary: Gang-tae is finally honest and has a realization about his relationship with Mun-yeong. 

Author’s note: This story is coming to an end and honestly I’m very happy it has been very hard to tap into these emotions for both of them, their self-deprecation just wraps around me even after I’m done writing. But this was also very cathartic and I am happy that I wrote it, this was one of my only issues with the show and I know a lot of people excuse and accept GT’s behavior and that’s your right but I couldn’t do the same and I finished the series still yearning for a real apology so this story has done that for me. Provided more closure. Anyway, there is only one chapter left hope you all enjoyed! 

She's gone.

He goes through the ceaseless motions of life, robotic and mechanical, going to work and coming home like he's living in a washing machine; spinning around and around in violent circles.

But endlessly his mind spasms every second as he remembers that she's gone and he has no idea where exactly she might be.

Sang-in refuses to speak to him, exiting any space that he enters and his frustration melts away as he realizes that her disappearance is not solely impacting him, the manager looks haggard as well, dark circles sunken deep like craters on a surface.

His thumbs twinge with malignant pain from his extensive messages to her, 109 messages sent since the day he went to her empty castle, pleas and apologies easily coming now as he recognizes how badly he needs her in his life. Life without her has been colorless and dull, a black and white façade that he longs to escape from. He wants the vibrant hues that being around her splashes into his life.

All his life he's been a blank canvas and meeting her poured colors onto his skin that he never knew he needed, life was meant to be lived and up until the moment she crashed into his life, he'd merely been existing.

He's taken to eating alone, punishing himself for his hapless mistakes, he doesn't deserve to be surrounded by warmth or have a full belly when Mun-yeong is out there with no one, thinking that he doesn't care for her. That couldn't be further from the truth but he has nobody but himself to blame for that, she'd given him too many chances and each time he'd been a fool; why had he done that? Why couldn't be accept love while it was the one thing he yearned for the most?

You don't deserve to be happy. This is what you deserve. Regret and despair.

His thoughts assault him viciously poking holes through his paper thin sheet of confidence. Each day without her and unread messages breaking him down into unrecognizable pieces, his walls crumbling like a sandcastle under the lightest pressure.

"Gang-tae, why are you so sad?" His older brother's voice draws him back from the depths of his melancholy, breaking the shackles of his self deprecation.

He sits from his starfished position on the ground, meeting his brother's warm questioning eyes. Immediately a smile spreads across his face, instinct kicking in.

Sang-tae looks at him, expressionless before he sits down beside him, reaching out a hand and catching his smile before slowly pulling down the sides of his mouth.

"It's fake. It's not real, you're not happy Moon Gang-tae, that's a fake smile. Why are you smiling when you're not happy?"

He feels the dam holding in his emotions start to burst before his eyes are swimming with emotions, twin lines scorch down the smooth skin of his cheeks.

"Hyung, I made a mistake." His voice squeaks from his worn lungs, sobs now wrecking his body until he's shaking apart. "I hurt Mun-yeong and I don't know if she's going to forgive me."

Sang-tae lifts a hand hesitating minutely before laying it on his head, air soft caresses on his thick hair. He almost melts into the brotherly brush, unable to recall another instance where his brother has touched him in this manner.

"It's because you're the little brother, you're just a kid still. You have to say sorry when you hurt someone , you have to say sorry and make them happy. Mun-yeong smiles when she's with you, a smile is better than a fight."

I have fun with you. I keep smiling.

He'd been so focused on his own newfound happiness he hadn't stopped to think about her, how much they'd both smiled when they were together. Her smile had been especially gorgeous, brighter than the sun moments after their first kiss. Her lips tasted as beautiful as they looked, her joy palatable on his taste buds.

He'd crushed that happiness under his feet that day on the beach, callously throwing sharp daggers at her chest, the vision of her clutching her bruised heart forever stamped in his mind.

I might not deserve happiness but she does and I....make her happy.

With a hiccup he smiles at Sang-tae, so young at heart but wise beyond his years. His wonderful older brother.

"Thank you hyung. You're right I need to make her happy."

"Yes she's my best friend, don't make her sad anymore or I'll scold you."

He laughs for the first time in days, happiness growing in his chest like a mustard seed.

Gathering his courage he meets his brothers eyes, finally prepared to be honest about his feelings for Mun-yeong, he's tired of hiding himself from the people he cares about.

"Hyung, I...like Mun-yeong. I want to be with her and I want to make her happy all the time." His confession eases the fear and concern that has been weighing him down, his shoulders loosening as the words escape his lips.

Sang-tae sinks into himself, scratching at the raw skin between his fingers.

He reaches out to hold his hands, rendering them still. He smiles at his brother, a smile that finally reaches his eyes.

"Don't be scared hyung please, I'm still your brother and I still love you. I just care about Mun-yeong too, my heart is big enough to hold both of you. Is your heart big enough big brother? Can you let Mun-yeong in too? She needs us."

Waiting with abated breath he watches the thoughts as they run across Sang-tae's face, shifting from one emotion to the next before he can properly decipher then until his brother finally responds.

"Yes. Mun-yeong needs us. She needs a family, we can let her into our family."

His heart ripples from his brother's generosity, he never imagined this conversation going this well. He'd ruminated about talking to Sang-tae always thinking his brother wouldn't understand and once again seeing that he underestimates his brother, she'd been right he just needed to be honest.

"You need to eat Gang-tae, I came to get you. Come on let's go eat, I'm your big brother it's just job to take care of you."

He lets himself he pulled away, leaving weightless. That night sleep finds him easily, his dreams are full of her.

Helpless is the only way to describe his circumstance, for once he knows exactly what he wants and is willing to fight for it but she remains elusive, not responding to any of his messages or calls, her voicemail now filled from his persistence.

The patients are the first to notice the change in him, their watchful eyes following his very move as he does his rounds.

"Your pretty smile, it's gone."

She's right, as his days without Mun-yeong pile on he finds it impossible to even force a fake smile, for once letting his true emotion show.

It's accidental that he runs into Sang-in, literally. Colliding chest to chest on the stairs to the rooftop, the manager teeters on the edge of the step arms flailing as he tries to regain his balance. The scene is all too familiar to him as he wastes no time to reach out and grab the man by his bicep, righting him before he can tumble down the stairs.

They both look at each other with trepidation before Sang-in pulls his arm free of his hold, mouth opening before his eyes harden and he spins around, intentions clear.

Hastily he calls out, "Wait."

Sang-in halts, the lines of his shoulder sharp and unfriendly.

"Please."

That simple word loosens the tension, he watches as the shoulders lower and after two beats Sang-in pivots around.

Dark eyes look at him imploringly, his expression saying more than words ever could.

What do you want?

Latching onto the opportunity he rushes to say his peace, "I care about her. I know you think I'm selfish and all I do is hurt her."

Steel wraps around Sang-in's eyes as if he's preparing to rebuke his excuses. Ready for a fight.

"You're right. I am selfish and I've hurt her a lot. It doesn't matter what my intentions were I still hurt her and I'll never forgive myself for that."

After a pregnant pause, a sneer glides across Sang-in's smooth shaven face, "So what? You're going to leave her alone and stop making her cry? Is this you telling me that you're giving up on her so she can be happy?"

His eyes dart all over that manager's face, before he finds what he's looking for. That's not Sang-in's secret desire, beneath the sneer his lips quiver as he awaits Gang-tae's response.

It's the easiest test he's ever been given.

"No. I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy, I won't push her away." He promises with his heart in his throat.

Their eyes lock in a staring match, he hides nothing letting his emotions pour through his eyes, taking down his walls. Sang-in takes a deep breath before answering.

"Okay."

It's such a simple answer but with it he feels Sang-in's reluctant acceptance, their happiness was connected and despite his anger Sang-in couldn't deny that. The answer boosts his confidence.

He has to find her.

He's at work when he gets the message from Sang-tae, Mun-yeong text me. She sent me a picture.

He races to the staff lounge, phone precariously clutched in his hands as he looks at the message. Disbelief and relief wash over him in submerging waves, before he can maneuver his trembling hands to type out a response he gets another message.

Her face fills his phone screen and his heart as Sang-tae sends him a screenshot of her message.

I'm okay Sang-tae. Don't worry I'll be back.

Pushing aside his jealousy he devours her picture, the downward tilt of her lips doing nothing to lessen her beauty, those black orbs shining through the luminance of his phone.

Once his heartbeat slows down to a manageable rhythm he looks at the picture once more, scouring for clues and immediately his memory whorls as he takes in the door in the background.

She's gone back to where he'd finally let go.

Maybe he still has a chance.

With that though fueling his movement he runs through the door, stomping to the director's office.

Director Oh smirks at his stuttered excuse before chuckling and nodding in acquiesce, letting him leave his shift early.

He stands still in shock before confirming, "Really? I can go..?"

With a shrug the director waves him away, "Go, go I did worst things when I was young for a girl. Love makes us all a little crazy."

Blushing at how easily he's been found out, he bows low thanking the director before running out of the hospital.

As he bursts through the entrance door, a car horn catches his attention and he twists around until he finds the source.

Sang-in climbs out of the driver's seat of his rental car, walking closer until they are within arm's reach, wordlessly he tosses the keys into Gang-tae's hands, snatching the metal out of the air he looks at the manager surprise etched in very pore of his skin.

"Why?" He asks, taken a back by everyone's willingness to help him.

"Because I want her to be happy. You promised to spend your life doing that. You better keep that promise."

He hears the threat for what it is, impulsively he leaps forward wrapping the older man in a bear hug before releasing him and rushing to the car.

Sang-in's wide eyed stare causes his laughter to fill the car's small space as he pulls out of the parking lot and drives off to keep his promise.

The woman who owns the guest house grumbles when he arrives but shows him to Mun-Yeong's room and tells him that she's currently out taking one of her "soul searching walks". He waits outside, not wanting to invade too much of her space. He wants her to let him in.

Hours crawl by before the heavens open out releasing wet retribution that drowns the ground. Worry washes over him as he glances out at the road, willing her to appear and to his utmost surprise she does, materializing before him like a vision in a dream.

Her movements are unhurried despite the harsh downpour that has already soaked her, her clothes plastered to the soft curves of her body.

He watches her entranced, eyes feasting. She's here, his heart gallops giddy from her mere presence. He savors this moment of pure exuberance, knowing her well enough to acknowledge that she will not be as happy to see him. 

He's right.

Her words cut him as she rages, cursing his presence and demanding that he leave her alone. She sugar-coats nothing as she rips him apart the worst part of all is that she only speaks the truth. She's not vicious or malicious, he thinks he might have preferred that, instead of this piercing honesty.

She slams the door in his face and he's reminded of him slamming the door on their relationship on the beach. He deserves this.

He slides to the ground, placing one hand on the door that separates them.

It's my turn to wait.

"I'm here for you. I need you Mun-yeong."

She stares at him blankly, vastly different from the anger she'd just exhibited at finding him slumbering on her doorstep.

Without a word she spins around, slamming the door shut in his face once more.

Eventually he goes to find the bathroom, a warm bathe soothes the chill in his bones before he's forced to put back on his still damp clothes.

When he finds his way back to her, she's standing stock still where he once was.

A closer look reveals that she is not completely still, her small shoulders are rapidly moving up and down and after a moment's pause he rushes to her, spinning her around to face him.

Her face is crumpled in wet anguish, tears gushing from her eyes as she bites her lips to contain the sobs that are aching to escape.

"Mun-yeong." He breathes out before she tumbles to the ground.

Instantly he falls with her, gathering her in his arms, she pushes him away fighting to break his barricade. He lets her go. Arms falling helplessly to his sides. His heart breaks as he watches the woman he loves fall apart, helpless again to do anything to comfort her.

"I thought you were gone. Why did you come back? I accepted that you left me, why do you keep coming back damn it!"

Her cry breaks as her body continues to shake and he can't watch this anymore, his arms and heart empty without her weight.

Mustering his last remnants of strength, he pleads, "Mun-yeong please, can I hold you? I can't stand to see you like this, please. I'm yours. I'm here for as long as you want me. I'm never going anywhere."

Her moist eyes peer into his soul, searching. Before her eyes slide shut, slowly she reaches out her arms and he bolts into the space, a space just for him. He fits perfectly.

He wraps his arms around her slight figure, engulfing her in a deep embrace, her tears soaking through the collar of his uniform.

Time slows down as she shakes in his arms, her sobs quieting down until the sounds of nature fill his ears instead. He rocks her back and forth, patting her back as she clutches on his shirt.

When the last of her cries falter off he draws away from her, her beautiful wet face blessing his eyes.

Gently he reaches out to brush the tears from her cheeks.

She blinks back at him, sniffling before sighing and looking up at the skies.

"Okay. Let's talk."