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#(for my life I mean. or even the near future)
sams-darlin · 3 days
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original post by @puffin-smoke !!
i’m making this its own post instead of reblogging because i’ve been WAITING for someone to make this point.
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hush and doc are nowhere near comparable to blake and bestie and here’s why:
hush is a force turned physical. he has no concept of right and wrong, at least not fully. he only knows his purpose and the actions he must take to get to that purpose even if to others they appear wrong, and as we saw in Referred Judgement he killed vega without realizing it was wrong.
he only knows and is aware of the present moment, he has no concept of the future and consequences of his actions, he only knows “this person is doing something to hinder my plans, i must prevent them from doing so”. he only just learned what regret feels like, he’s learning how to exist for the first time, he’s learning how to exist outside of his purpose.
he has no set of morals, no humanity, nothing. he only does what serves his purpose
doc is NOT okay with the things hush does, at least not fully. they were terrified when he killed the demon in their house and have questioned him on why he does the things he’s done. i think the stage doc is in right now is less of a “i’m okay with this” but more of a “this guy is freaky powerful, let’s see if me gaining his trust can help him change his mind and not bring about the end times”.
remember, to doc and lots of other empowered humans the sovereigns are folktales, myths, some scary story told by the fireside, they have no idea the exact amount of danger hush intends to bring upon the world and much less how to handle it and as they’ve seen there’s no stopping him. i mean what would you do in that scenario? what have characters in movies and shows done in that scenario? you’re the one human this creature trusts, are you going to betray that trust and risk your life? are you gonna yell at him? fight him? what good will that do?
no matter what you do that creatures gonna bring upon destruction, all you can do is sit by and wait until powerful enough forces can put a stop to it or it gains enough morality through existing alongside you to understand what it’s attempting to achieve will destroy all of human and demonkind.
BLAKE however. that man is human. he has a set of morals no matter how skewed they may be, he knows right and wrong, he has a life outside of a purpose, he was not created from magic to bring about the apocalypse. he is a grown ass man. he is selfish. he knows what he’s doing is wrong but he does it anyway just to save one person who matters to him.
while hush is completely unaware of cause and effect therefore acts without considering it, blake knows his actions have consequences and seemingly does not care.
i will credit him tho, he actually knows what he’d rather do to get to his goal and has at least some empathy for sunshine and elliott, where hush has little to no empathy for anyone outside of doc and only says things like “i didn’t want to do that” after the fact.
hush only just learned the feelings that are regret and guilt, he felt them for the first time after killing vega, in his head he’s never viewed anything he’s done as bad it’s just the right thing in the moment that helps get his purpose fulfilled as fast as possible. blake knows he’s doing the wrong thing but for the “right” reasons, he knows it’s wrong and immoral but does it anyways.
bestie. has a boyfriend. who joined a cult. kidnapped and tortured two people. and sold his soul and freedom to a sovereign(d’derihdan, mind you, sovereign of sadism guy). for them. and they’re okay with it. THATS THE DIFFERENCE. it’s two different situations.
there is nothing doc can do but help hush gain a sense of humanity and hope it’s enough to stop him, bestie saw their boyfriend commit horrific acts and possibly become a vessel of armageddon just to keep them alive and KISSED HIM AFTER.
bestie and blake are freaks and i forever stand by that. i hope bestie dies in blake’s arms and he destroys himself in efforts to get them back(failing of course).
thank you for coming to my ted talk.
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spaghett-onaplate · 4 months
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depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed
#and wdym that lifestyle changed so quickly into being out and about and an active member of the world??#very proud of myself#and i mean it wasn't that quick of a change#it was like 1.5 years primarily depression bedrotting with occasional school -> primarily depression bedrotting ->#primarily depression bedrotting with 3-9 hours of work weekly -> straight into 31+ hours school+9-12 hours work weekly#so there was somewhat of a gradual progression#but still#also wowza i wake up 7-7:30am every morning now. 1pm was an early wake up for a not so insignificant amount of time#i mean of all fundamental growth years to miss out on the ages like what 12/13-15 aren't too bad? they would suck in a different way if i#had been socially involved#anyway it's just. yea i'm proud of myself but it is a crazy lifestyle change#and even when i was deeply depressed in a horrible routine i feel like i learned a lot. how to regulate my emotions and cope well and find#the joy in everything. bc if i stayed in bed all day then i would at least be happy about the sun or whatever#and for the while of being not at school at all i WANTED to be at school i just could not find one bc our school system is so cute like tha#(basically every school is at capacity and the local school that has a guaranteed place for me would have been an all boys or girls 😭)#but i miraculously found and got into this school and miraculously made it work so well for me socially and now academically#it's also a good time to get back into school for my education bc any later and it woulda been pretty bad for all my certifications and uni#ive missed out on so much maths that its not worth it to me to try and catch up but my teacher knows that#but ive always hated maths regardless i only ever understood it for the first half of yr 7 then my attendance dropped#and after my recent exam i decided to try harder at school. but i still got an A on the exam i didn't study for!! academic weapon fr#i'm just idk thinking back to myself in the past few years#and how hopeless it all felt. but i got out of it!! i beat the depression and social anxiety and found a good place and made the most of it#and during the peak of my depression i remember i went out someplace near my old school and panicked so so badly about seeing#kids from my old school. and the friends at the time didnt really check on me when i went to shake and cry in a side street lmao#i kept the best of that friendgroup and have better friends now. but anyway now i take a bus each morning with some kids from my old school#and you see these hands? they look like they're shaking to you?#anyway yeah it's just cool i got to this point :) i really had no hope for so long but now i have a life i'm living and a future i'm build#--ing towards#which is funny i just decided some random day last november after watching some better call saul 'huh actually lawyer would b pretty cool'#and will i get there? we'll see but i do have hope now
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disasterhimbo · 7 months
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Something that doesn’t get talked about enough I think is that when you’re in survival mode for an extended period of time, when you try to get out, it’s extra hard because you haven’t been building yourself a future gradually and continuously like you normally would, and now you have to try to do a lot of it all at once when you’re already tired and struggling.
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gillianthecat · 6 months
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Is/Was tumblr giving anyone else a notification when someone you followed posted for the first time in a while? Like this:
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It was doing that for me for a couple weeks, although now it seems to have stopped. A short-lived experiment? Or perhaps no one has posted after a long enough lag. (It seems unlikely to have been a bug, but I don't know enough about coding so maybe?)
It was sort of an interesting idea, to make sure I didn't miss someone I hadn't seen in a while, but on the whole I'm glad it's gone/hope it goes. I'd like my notifications to be all about me, thank you 👸🏻The dashboard is the place for other people. Otherwise it gets confusing.
Anyway, I haven't posted in a while (12 days), so perhaps this post will show up in your notifications!
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orcelito · 5 months
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Oh tho. Despite being at a concert at a bar with easy opportunity to have drinks. I looked at the menu as if I was gonna order anything, then thought to myself, "You don't drink anymore, hon" and went "Oh, right" then just got water.
So???? Given how matter of fact that thought was, maybe I really am fully sober from alcohol now. Interesting thought.
#speculation nation#cant say im fully sober all the time completely bc i may or may not have done a weed or two in recent weeks#but that's neither here nor there#well ok it is in fact here. in this conversation. bc it's relevant.#i just dont want to drink alcohol anymore. period. even when i was having a breakdown i didnt want to drink.#and even when i was at a concert venue having the time of my life. i didnt want to drink.#the thought of alcohol just does not appeal to me anymore. not with the connotations it has now.#but in lieu of that. i gave a little edible or two a try. since i already knew i fucking hated smoking weed#still wont do that. but a little recreational dabbling in a social setting... yea ok ive done a little#not interested in doing this kind of thing alone tho. or even regularly.#but for special occasions. in a social setting. since i dont drink alcohol anymore. this is a Way To Go.#alcohol ment/#drugs ment/#i think ill b posting about the drinking thing less now. bc this felt pretty conclusive to me.#ive been wavering on it for 2 and a half months now. unsure whether it was just the trauma and grief of it all.#i mean. it is. that's precisely why i am so suddenly no longer drinking.#but time is going by and ive had several opportunities to drink. times i wouldve taken in the past.#but my heart solidly told me No. i didnt want that.#and ykno what even with 0 alcohol i had the time of my fucking life at that concert.#26 going on 27 and suddenly completely sober because my dad died from alcoholism.#one of those things where. well. drinking isnt good for you anyways.#so if i dont wanna do it. well thats actually better for me in the end. so might as well lean into it.#idk whether this will be an actual longterm thing. but i suppose i'll find out!#for now at least. i have no interest in drinking. and so it shall remain in the near future.
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mymarifae · 2 years
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i hope everyone's prepared for me to become the most annoying person ever in 13 more hours
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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I am so high I love you dabs I love you big bong rips I love you huge heavy bong I love you only having 20 dollars to my name and no plans but getting high and ignoring it I love you oh no I’m thinking about it
#I want to take an ice cold shower and scream and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and lock myself in a closet for 72 hours in the dark with#no distractions to figure out what I actually want to do with the rest of my life and to face every bad thought I have and struggle to#ignore even years later like ugh I just need to be at the bottom of the ocean floating sinking alive dead in between for like a month and#then pull me back up and either I’ll be normal or I’ll be so fucked up they just put me back in there#like either way I am vibing at the bottom of the ocean (I have been desperately imaging a sensory deprivation tank all day)#(put me in a fucking sensory deprivation tank until something in my fucking brain rewires and I get worse or better than I am now this#inbetween stage is fucking killing me like what do you mean I’m not a horrible person but also what do you mean I struggle every day but I’m#normal but I have things about me other people don’t and alienate me to the point of near total isolation but also this is just how humans#are and I need to take meds and actively struggle to fit into a perfect little box of what a person should be like god damn I am so tired of#getting better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and I’m miserable and I’m happy and I’m sobbing and#I know a month from now I’ll be depressed again or I’ll be the best I’ve ever been and it’s so fucking horrible to be in the middle stage#where I actually have to step up and admit shit is wrong and face it like why can’t I just lay in bed forever until I become the bed and not#like get a job and have a future. ugh. depression is so fucked esp bc most things in my life are normal I guess or like easier than my#friends like we all have seperate challenges but I’m the only one still living off their parents (ha. parent. forgot for a second.) and the#only thing wrong with my life is the mental health issues but I won’t step up and deal with it bc I feel like I’ve been depressed for so#long I like fucked up the foundational shit and like I know it’s fine but also I feel so behind and I feel like I’ll be behind and unhappy#forever even when im happy I know the next depressive episode is right around the corner and I give up again. ugh. I hate knowing that’s#what’s wrong with me but still not having the energy to step up and fix it. im so pathetic I want to cry. my brain is me but my brain is#destroying my life. anyways. im high and now im sad and have dry mouth. I think im gonna drink ice water and change into shorts+lay in bed)
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"We will help you with medical and psychological issues and also if there are problems with other people we can try to help with that too :)"
Oldest dude in our course threatens someone and insults and annoys others. We ask for help what to do.
"That's not our issue, that's a private matter."
It happened there during break time, tho :/ Yes, if we come and ask for help you offered help before. But suddenly not.
It wasn't me who was threatened, but the guy who got threatened is a rly good dude. Our little group gets along really well. I will always defend and fight for my friends.
#defend and fight* as in beaurocratically. Can't literally fight someone since I don't wanna ruin my life#but apparently people who are older and should be much wiser don't think that far ahead#and just fucking threaten others#'the people at my old job were so mean to me :(' no fucking wonder!!! You are a bitch. You insult others even those who are nice to you.#Get FUCKED#i tried being nice and understanding. but he literally tried to forbid me to spend breaktime in our classroom talking to someone#we are allowed to be in class or anywhere during break. im allowed to talk to people in a normal volume#he sits in the corner and is bothered by people existing near him#but then he spends his time during class watching videos on his phone without headphones???#bro we are. working rn.#turn that shit off and pay attention and maybe learn something#'im so scared i wont be making it through to the training because im so bad :(' why arent u paying attention then!!!#instead of complaining about other people existing around you and watching dumb videos.#he is over 50 i think almost 60. he behaves like a brat.#luckily i wont see much of him anymore in the future.#if he tries to follow me around to insult me like he did with the other guy today#there are always enough people as witnesses and im around my group a lot anyway#even if the socialworkers there act like it isnt their issue. if i complain enough and if the behaviour of others is affecting me and other#then i will absolutely make it their problem until they solve it
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foreverdolly · 6 months
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)
word count: 3.5k
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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 
Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 
Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 
Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 
The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 
You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 
“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 
There it was. The truth. 
Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 
“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 
Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 
Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 
You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.
 It was a guard. 
So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 
He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 
“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 
Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 
You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 
You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 
Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 
With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 
“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 
Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 
And so they did. 
The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 
 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 
This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 
Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 
But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 
Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 
“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 
He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 
Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 
He had to pay for what he did to you. 
And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 
The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 
The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 
“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 
His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 
And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 
Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 
You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 
Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 
The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 
You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 
“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 
Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 
The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 
Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 
“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 
You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 
Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 
“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 
Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 
“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 
“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 
You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 
“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 
You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 
“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 
Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 
“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 
“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 
You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 
“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 
Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 
“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 
He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 
You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 
“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 
You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 
You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 
“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 
Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 
“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 
“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 
You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 
“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 
“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 
“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 
“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 
You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 
You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 
One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 
Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 
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Time Traveller AU part 7
Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
Part 8 is here!
"Gather the troops and have them warn the public. All the infantries will be stationed here and here. The archers and cavalary-" Salauddin was sending orders to his generals. As soon as he was informed of Baldwin coming, you knew he had only limited time to make a game plan.
You didnt understand why Baldwin would come all the way here for a war. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed this way, so either he's bring half of his army while the other half protects his kingdom from invaders- which would put him at a great disadvantage against Salauddin. Or he's bringing all of his men and that means Jerusalem is practically up for grabs.
No. He wouldnt leave Jerusalem unarmed like that, so that means he's inadequately prepared for the war?
No. Baldwin's too smart. If he won against Salauddin at just 16 years, then he's definitely coming up with a plan. And it scares you to not know what he has in mind.
You looked at Salauddin who had just finished instructing his generals, as they left. He was stressed, you could see that. War. Its not a small thing. There are no true winners when there's blood shed on either side. While Salauddin does have the advantage of fighting in his home ground, that is also his disadvantage. At the end of it, his people- his Egypt will suffer.
"Y/n." Your eyes meet. "I need you to stay inside the palace. I will have guards assigned to you. If they tell you to go somewhere, follow them."
"What? No. I'm coming with."
"Have you lost your mind?"
You ignored his insult. "If Baldwin is coming for a war-" "You're gonna talk him out of it?" "I mean, its not a bad plan but I was gonna offer you to use me as a bargaining chip? That way you could avoid blood shed." You wouldn't offer to put your life in danger but since your time machine is still not ready, you need to avoid a war.
"No." He gave you a stern look. "I dont want you anywhere near him or his men. You will stay here. Listen to me for once."
"But I-"
"Y/n." He warned. You sighed before nodding. Well I could always just go out when he leaves, just like last time.
Almost as if he had read your mind, he made you follow him to a room that had no windows or any other exits besides the one door that was made of solid wood and had guards stationed outside.
"This is the safest room, Y/n. It is impenetrable." Oh no, you cant stay here.
"I think you're overreacting a bit-"
"Overreacting? Your fiance is coming over to start a war because of your crazy brother-in-law who you underestimated because you said that he's just a tool. I think I'm reacting very appropriately." He shut you up.
"I want Isabella."
"No."
"Please Salauddin, I need to keep her safe too-"
"No."
"This may be the last wish you ever grant me, so can you just agree-"
"You think I'm going to die?!" Salauddin stared at you in disbelief.
"I... I didnt say that." You tried to think of a lie. "I mean, maybe this might be the last time you see me... alive? Who knows when the angel of death pays you a visit? If we look at the statistics, between you, me and Baldwin, at least one of us going to die-"
"Stop talking." He gritted out, "Fine."
-
"Princess." Isabella wailed as soon as she entered. You let her hug you. "I missed you too, Isabella." You smiled wiping away her tears.
"I- I heard rumors of a war! Is it- his majesty coming?" The girl sniffled. You nodded.
"Its true. A war is going to happen... unless I do something about it." She blinked in confusion. "Huh?"
You held her hands and gave her your most pleading eyes. Its time for manipulation.
"I need you to get me out of here." "Why?" "Because I need to talk to my future husband out of war."
Her eyes widened. "B-but its too dangerous for you to go outside, princess!"
You sighed. "If I cant even protect people from unnecessary pain and bloodshed, then what good am I as a queen?" Yes, time for some heart breaking lines about self sacrifice. "I would rather risk my life than the lives of those who have their families waiting for them at home. I would happily fall on my own sword if it means my subjects wont have to. If I cant prevent suffering of the very people who would bleed for me, then I have no right to be the queen of Jerusalem."
-
Half an hour later, Isabella had knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.
"Sultan Salauddin has forbidden-"
"Princess Y/n from leaving. Not me. I'm her lady in waiting and the princess needs me to get her belongings so that she can write her will."
"We can have it fetched-"
"You? A common man she has no relations with- wants to touch her stuff? I dont think so." Isabelle glared at them through her niqaab (all of your maids had followed your dress code in Egypt). She didnt wait for an answer as she began walking away before a man appeared by her side. It was one of Salauddin's guards.
"What?" She snapped at him, continuing to walk.
"They sent me to walk with you and bring you back safely." He said before grinning at her. "I thought you'd be happy to see your habeebo."
"Habeebo?" She asked, reaching your room.
He caught her wrist and turned her around, gazing at her veiled face with affection. "You cant still be mad at me for leaving the other night- I had duties."
"What right do I have to be mad at you?" Isabella kept her face down, conveying she was still very much mad.
"Habeebo's habibti- you have all rights over me. You're the only woman for me." Habeebo said as he placed a hand over his heart.
Isabelle finally giggled, freeing her wrist from his grasps. "Stop... someone could walk in on us." She warned.
"So? I'm not afraid. I can do anything for love!"
"Anything?"
"Anything." He assured her.
"Then go fetch me some cold water while I pack the princesse's belongings. Hurry now, I'll be waiting for you here." Habeebo all but smiled before walking towards the kitchen, leaving Isabella alone in your room.
As soon as she was sure he was gone, she removed her veil and quickly changed her chaddar with yours.
"Thanks Isabella." You muttered as you slipped on your chaddar. Yes, you had left Isabella in the room upstairs and pretended to be her to slip out of there. She had told you about her crush Habeebo who you had also fooled into leaving you here, and youre sure that if he were to go back upstairs and find Isabella instead of you, he'd protect her. Surely.
Sneaking out of the palace wasnt a hard feat by now. What was hard was trying to figure out what way to go to find Baldwin or Salauddin, with all the people panicking as they were being constantly warned by guards about Baldwin's arrival.
You decided to go through the market and head towards the madarrasa, though you doubt Abbas is anywhere done with the parts you gave him to make. You had given a week's deadline but only because you needed him to hurry up, not because he could actually make them in such little time.
The streets were packed, shops were getting closed and people were trying to rush home to safety. You were nearing the madarrasa when you were pulled to the side in an alley.
"Y/n!" Abbas exclaimed. "Finally, I found you." You raised a brow and he grinned. "Your things are ready."
"Already?" You were in disbelief. How did he-
He puffed his chest. "Of course. I had a deadline and with the war being announced, I'm glad I made haste!" You felt hope again. If the parts are ready, all you need to do is assemble them and you can leave this timeline for once and for all, and if Baldwin and Salauddin do end up fighting each other, everything works out! You're sure that Salauddin would win by playing to his strengths, and because eventually Guy will fuck up and betray Baldwin and cause him to die. Then another crusade will happen and Salauddin will take over Jerusalem! Everyone wins.
"Well? Hand it over."
"I dont have it with me right now! I took the parts home to work on them. Lets go." You trailed behind him, the market still bustling as the air became more tensed. They're kingdom is about to be attacked and they have little to no time to prepare for it.
Soon, you reached his home. It was a cozy place, made of mud. The beige walls added onto the coolness. He lead you inside, crossing the patio. Abbas told you to wait there while he went inside a room to get your parts. While waiting, your eyes landed on a cage in the corner that had 5 doves.
"Here it is." Abbas returned with a wooden box and gave it to you.
Opening it, you saw the designs you had given him. You took the parts out and examined them. They weren't top notch, but they'll make do.
"Thank you." You handed him a pouch of gold coins. He pocketed it before raising his brows at you. "So... will you finally tell me what this is for?"
You looked up at him before taking out your time machine. Might as well assemble it here and leave as soon as possible. "I would but I'm afraid it'll go over your head." He frowned at your words before grumbling angrily under his breath before going to the doves to give them seed. Good, he should be distracted while you put these parts in.
It didnt take more than a few minutes for you to place them in. All you had to do was to put in the last key, turn it on and set the date-
"Y/n." You looked up at Abbas, not understanding his horrified expression. What's wrong? You followed his gaze and looked behind you, and there it was-
A shadow standing at the doorway of the patio.
You squinted your eyes before your heart dropped at the realisation.
Black robes, hood over the head, geared up.
Assassin.
"This is the wrong house." Abbas said with a trembling voice.
The assassin stepped forward into the light, while you and Abbas took a few steps back.
"What- what do you want?" The assassin didnt answer him, his eyes fixed on you. This is- this is not an Ismaili. They wouldnt attack alone, and especially not so soon, and not when a war hangs over their head.
The assassin took another step forward, this time you grabbed the time machine and held it closely. This made the dark figure tilt his head at you.
"Get behind me." You moved behind Abbas. "Get out of my house- this is not the time. Evacuate!" Abbas warned the guy but he didnt stop staring at you.
As soon as he took another step, Abbas grabbed a wooden stick from the side and ran towards him, only for him to be flipped over his shoulder and slammed to the ground. You took this as a sign to run but the assassin was faster, grabbing you by the chaddar as it ripped off you. Your eyes widened as he grabbed you by the shoulder and yanked you back and your immediate reaction was to slap him, but he caught your wrist and pushed you back inside the patio. Abbas got up and tried to punch him, but he was knocked down back on his back in a second.
You ran, but didnt make it more than a few steps before you got tackled to the ground. You struggled to break free but the assassin had his arms wrapped around your neck, putting you in a chokehold.
Knowing Abbas couldnt come to your rescue, you clawed at the assassins hands, flailed about trying to break free from under him. But he had overpowered you, putting immense pressure until you started seeing black dots.
Just at the last moment, your eyes caught the sight of the dove cage and instinctively, you yanked the cage, hoping to hit the assassin in the head with it, but all you managed was to tip it over, the latch holding it close dropped.
And in the next moment, the doves flew out and went straight for the assassin. You wouldnt say they were attacking him, but the moment he saw them flying in his direction, he raised his hands to bat them away, which only caused him to get scratched-
You didnt stick around to find out if they clawed his face off, springing to your feet as you ran inside a room, hoping to find a window to escape.
You spot the window, quickly opening the wooden frame to leap out. Only the moment you have one foot out, you're pulled back inside and thrown against the wall.
The assassin is back, his body language conveying he's more pissed now than before.
You cant outrun him. You take a fighting stance. You know very well that you cant beat him either, but it works well to at least make him doubt that.
Maybe you could bribe him?
"What do you want?" You ask him, your fists raised. He tilted his head at your attempt to look ominous.
You glared at him. "You let me and my friend go, and I can assure you I can give you enough gold to keep you out of work forever. I am..." you pause before using your last card. "I am King Baldwin's fiance, future queen of Jerusalem. Let me go, and I'll give you anything you want."
He took another step forward and you knew you were backed into a corner so you punched him, only he caught your fist before it was anywhere near his face.
He stared at you, tightening his hold on your wrist.
"Please dont hurt me." You gulped before raising your other hand to punch him, but he caught it too. Now both of your hands were in one of his while he used the other to grab your throat and push you against the wall.
"Oh fuc-" He squeezed a pressure point on your neck until you passed out.
-
Salauddin was on his horse at the front of his army, waiting at the gates of his kingdom for Baldwin. His generals had informed him that they had placed the respective troops posted according to his plan. Everyone waited with baited breath for his command. They're ready to protect their sultan, ready to sacrifice their lives to protect their kingdom.
Salauddin heard them before he saw them.
The heavy jingle of metal armour, the marching of the horses and then he saw their cross flags. He gave a nod to his men, signalling to be prepared.
They're coming.
In all honesty, Salauddin was expecting Baldwin's army to not make it through the hot desert, since they rarely ever leave Jerusalem.
But it was still a surprise when he saw the actual size of his army.
It wasnt that much. Thought he anticipated it, after all Baldwin wouldnt have left his kingdom without some men, but now this means that Baldwin is not relying on numbers.
He's relying on strategy. And its hard to predict Baldwin's moves.
Salauddin's mouth turned into a grim line. What was he planning?
The templars lead the army to the gates of Egypt. The Muslims had their weapons ready to be drawn. Salauddin watched the Christians Knights halt.
Do they attack now?
Baldwin emerged from the masses on his horse, sporting his iron mask despite not needing it anymore. Salauddin also rode his horse to meet him halfway, knowing his generals dont appreciate him leaving.
Their horses stopped a few feet apart from each other. Everything was silent apart from the sound of warm air whooshing through the desert.
Baldwin raised his hand. Salauddin heart skipped a beat. He's going to signal them to attack-
"Salam alaikum!" Baldwin greeted with a wave.
Salauddin gave a nod. "Walaikum asalam."
Baldwin tilted his head. "Why so tense, Sal? Not happy to see me?"
"I dont like uninvited guests." He replied. Baldwin chuckled. "Of course. But we're friends-"
"Why are you here, Baldwin?"
Baldwin stared at him. No king appreciates being interrupted.
"I'm here to meet my fiancee."
Salauddin stared at him unamused. "You left the Holy Land to meet your fiancee who was going to return home soon anyways?"
Baldwin shrugged. "I missed her."
"Baldwin."
The young king sighed. "I know I should've informed you before coming but I really do want to see Y/n. I mean no harm, Salauddin." He raised his hands in surrender. "I just thought it would be a nice surprise for her. Ever since she cured me, I realised I hadnt seen the world that much, so what better location than Egypt?"
Salauddin stared at him, before his gaze fell on his army.
"Come on, Salauddin. Where's Y/n?" Baldwin asked with a goofy smile.
Salauddin's brows furrowed before he sighed. "In my palace." He nodded at his men to open the gates as he lead Baldwin in. But not before whispering to his second in command to surround the kingdom from all perimeters and be on high alert. Things can always go south.
Baldwin smirked looking at the size of Salauddin's army. "Aww, you didnt have to bring them for my warm welcome." Salauddin ignored him, knowing very well that Baldwin knew how it looked when a king comes unannounced at another king's door.
-
They soon arrived at the palace, welcomed by servants and maids who were looking at Baldwin in awe. They had heard rumors of his beauty, and when he removed his mask, they realised how huge of an understatement it was. And the fact that this young king was the one to defeat their sultan at just 16 years age, it definitely added to the charm.
But Baldwin wasnt blind to the furious gazes of his soldiers either. He just ignored them, which was easy since his mind was occupied by thoughts of you. Y/n. My princess. My angel.
What surprised Salauddin was that Baldwin hadnt come alone. No, Guy was here too which only confused him more. If Baldwin brought Guy along, then who did he leave to take care of Jerusalem? Sibylla and Guy's son was still too young to be a heir.
He did remember your theory about Guy being the one to hire the assassins to ambush you in the desert. If Guy came here despite his failed attempts to get rid of his enemies, then he's either incredibly stupid or he's well assured that he'll get away with everything.
Salauddin wont let him. He'll make Guy pay.
"I hate to rush you Salauddin, I know Muslims are knows for their hospitality but can you just lead me to Y/n's room? She is a sight for sore eyes." Baldwin requested sweetly, making Salauddin roll his eyes. He signalled a servant to bring you down.
Guy looked disgusted to be in the presence of so many Muslims, but the moment he caught sight of any maids passing by, he would be eyeing them like a piece of meat. A maid came by holding drinks in a tray. When she offered it to Baldwin and then Guy, the latter startled the poor girl by purposely touching her wrist with his grubby paws.
Salauddin gripped the armrest tightly. If he wasnt Baldwin's brother-in-law, Salauddin would've plucked his eyes out and had him whipped in public to make an example out of scum like him.
"So, when did you leave your camp outside Jerusalem? I was expecting to see you there on my way here, but there were new troops of yours instead." Baldwin asked, sipping the cool drink.
"I came here with Y/n. I had some errands that required my attention." Salauddin didnt bring up the ambush, watching both him and Guy to gauge their reactions. Did they know?
"Went on any new conquests recently?" Salauddin decided to make small talk as they waited for you. He hopes you're not taking time to get ready to meet Baldwin. He'd rather you come up covered in a chaddar when Guy is here.
Instead of allowing Baldwin to answer, Guy cut him off. "Of course! We are the noble warriors, the Chosen Ones! God wants us to conquer as much as possible, for the sake of his-"
"How dare you talk to me?" Salauddin silenced him. "I'm talking to your king. He may allow it but you're in my kingdom now. You will abide by the rules or so help me, your head will be on a spike for the crows to shit on." Guy's eyes widened and his jaw fell open. No one had threatened him like that, at least not since he married Sibylla.
Baldwin barely suppressed a smile and when Guy looked at him for help, he only shrugged. "You should listen to him. We are his guests, after all."
The servant returned with the special guards he had assigned to protect you, all looking scared.
"S-sultan... the princess-" Baldwin and Salauddin's gaze sharpened at your mention. The poor servant gulped.
"The princess is gone."
There was deafening silence. The servant had his head bowed, along with the guards, all too afraid of the wrath they're going to face.
"Gone? Gone where?" Salauddin spat as he walked upto them.
"I- I dont know-" Salauddin grabbed the guard by the collar and shook him. "I left her in a room with no windows, a room guarded by the 6 of the most skilled men. Where did she go?!"
The guard's head only lowered further. "Sultan, we only opened the door to let princess Y/n's maid in and out. B-but- but when we opened the door, the maid was waiting there instead of the princess!"
"Which maid? Where is she?!" Salauddin roared.
The guard nodded at his men who pushed a young girl forward roughly. She fell on her knees, crying pitifully. He immediately recognised her.
Isabella.
"Where's the princess?" Salauddin questioned her, only to be answered in hiccups and tears. A vein on his forehead popped. He doesnt have time for this. Who knows where you are? If you're safe-
"Isabella." Baldwin called out gently, kneeling in front of her. She sniffled and bowed her head. "Isabella, look at me." She took panicked breaths before lifting her eyes to meet his kind ones, not a a grain of anger in them.
"You know where princess Y/n is?" He asked, pushing her hair back over her ear. She shook her head, hiccuping though she wasnt bawling her heart now.
"Use your words, Isabella. Tell me what happened." Enchanted by his gentleness, she spilled, told him all about how you made her take your place so that you could go and stop you from starting a war with the sultan.
Salauddin watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out if Isabella was lying. He did note Baldwin's behabiour throughout this entire interrogation as well. For someone whose future wife is missing, Baldwin is surprisingly calm. Then again, he's rarely ever seen Baldwin lose his temper.
"Where did she go?" Baldwin questioned her once again.
"I- I dont know, your majesty. She never told me!" Isabella cried out.
Baldwin nodded before standing up, his brows furrowed as rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger.
"If Y/n was going out to stop me and she never reached the gates, then it means... she's still here." Baldwin said after some deep thought. He looked at Salauddin. "Your men have surrounded the kingdoms, havent they?"
Salauddin nodded before ordering his men to find you.
"Search every house, every place. No one gets in or out of the kingdom!" He yelled at them, watching them leave. He felt Baldwin stand beside him and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his face wasn't... too concerned.
"You know, for someone whose fiancee is missing, you're surprisingly calm." Salauddin was both stating his observation, and accusing him too. Did Baldwin know where you were?
Baldwin simply smiled, his dimples showing. "I know you will find her."
"And why is that?"
"Because if I dont have Y/n in my arms by today, then I will burn your Egypt to the ground."
-
The Templar Knights kicked down doors, rattled the poor citizens and took great glee in destroying their belongings, using you as an excuse to "search thoroughly". Salauddin's army was also rigorously working to find you, interrogating everyone for any clues on you. Then again, no one had really seen how you looked like. You were just another woman covered in a chaddar and niqaabi among a whole city of them. It would be like finding needle in a hay stack and Salauddin wasnt about to allow anyone to rip off the niqaabs off his Muslim women. He wont allow such a transgression.
Fortunately, Baldwin agreed. After all, why would you be hiding from him? You dont have a reason to, right? But still, he had to find you. So he was walking through the streets of Egypt himself to look for you.
Salauddin had joined him, and not just because he wanted to ensure the safety of his folks but also to stop Guy from provoking Baldwin by feeding him any lies.
That cretin was getting on his last nerves.
Salauddin pretended to be deaf as Guy harshly whispered to Baldwin that "How can a princess just vanish? Clearly, there's someone plotting. These Arabs must've sold her off! They dont respect women like we do-" only to be pushed away by Baldwin who told him to focus his energy on finding you.
Its been 3 hours since Baldwin's arrival and still no sign of you. Despite his best attempts, Salauddin could see Baldwin's calm demeanour chipping away. He was running out of patience.
They were now standing outside the madarrassa where all the scholars, students and staff were rounded up. Salauddin was the only one who knew about Abbas, but now that he looked at each face, he realised he was the only one missing.
Immeadiately, he sent the guards to find him. Salauddin was sure that he knew about your whereabouts, He had to.
"Who is Abbas?" Baldwin asked as they both followed the guards that had found out his residence.
Salauddin didnt miss the suspicion in his tone. As much as he wanted to toy with Baldwin, now is not the time.
"He is a craftsman. Y/n had hired him to make something for her. Maybe she went there to collect it." He purposely avoided telling him about the unique chessboard you had gifted him.
After half an hour, they had reached Abbas's residence. It wasnt all that odd to find the front door open, and truth be told, no one was expecting anyone to be home.
It was concerning to find the disasterous state of the house as they entered. Clay pots were smashed to the ground, a cage lying empty in one corner. Clearly, something had happened here.
However, something caught Salauddin's eye that made his heart sink.
Your chaddar, lying on the ground.
-
You woke up with a pounding headache. When your lids fluttered open, they first spotted the single candle in the corner of the dimly lit room. Memories of the previous events flashed through your mind and you fitted the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.
When your eyes finally adjusted to the dimly lit room, you realised you were still in the same room the assassin had knocked you out. Not only that, but Abbas was also lying beside you, though he hadnt regained conciousness yet.
"Abbas- Abbas, wake up." You raised your hand to shake him, but your eyes caught the sight of your ripped sleeve. When- when did this-
You looked down at your clothes and realised they were all tattered too. Your niqaab was gone, you recalled the assassin had pulled off your chaddar during your escape attempt, and now that you looked at Abbas, he was in a similar state too. His clothes were torn and ripped too. But why? The assassin had already knocked you two out, he didnt need to-
You gasped, patting yourself to find your lack of belongings. Your time machine was gone, as was your jewellery an coins. You'd been robbed!
Panic surged into your veins as you violently shook Abbas, your machine was gone- your only way out of this era was gone!
"Abbas! Wake up!" But he only groaned in response. What was wrong with him?
You dont have time to wonder as you rushed to open the door. You need to catch that thief, assassin- whatever he was, before he got too far and you lost your time machine forever. Grabbing the handles, you tried to yank the door open, but it didnt even budge. Its... locked.
You whipped your head around, remembering the window you were trying to get out of earlier. Running up to it, you tried to open the wooden shutters, but they didnt move an inch. No. No. This is- this is not happening. You ran back towards the door. You felt your throat close up as you pulled the door with all your might before banging your fists against them in frustration.
You were locked in.
The thief has your time machine. He's probably gone far away with it. By the time anyone comes to your aid, he'd have fled the city. He'd be gone as Baldwin and Salauddin fight and burn Egypt to the ground. I'll be trapped here, probably die under the rubble with Abbas-
Abbas.
You look back at him, still unconscious. How hard was his head hit?
You fall back on your knees besides him, trying to wake him up. He'd know- Abbas would know how to get out of this room. He's smart, and he knows his house, probably built it himself- he'd know a way out.
"Abbas! ABBAS! Wake up! Wake up-!" You grabbed his head and laid it in your lap, turning it side-to-side to see if he was bleeding. You started to massage his temples, hoping the circulation will wake him up.
Wait. Circulation.
You recalled what they taught you in first aid class- what to do when someone faints? Raise their legs above heart level. You quickly moved and pulled his knees up until they were able to stay bent on their own, before cradling his head in your lap again, tapping his cheeks.
"Abbas- Abbas, wake up please. Abbas-! I swear if you dont wake up, I will give you a tight slap-"
You were cut off by the sound of the door being banged.
What in the-
The door shook as something hard banged against it. You jumped at the force. Did the war start already? Are they using cannonballs?
No. While cannonballs were used as heavy artillery in medieval Europe, it was more popularly used in the 1700s, but I'm still in the 1100s-
NOT THE TIME TO GEEK OUT! I'M ABOUT TO DIE-
The door burst open and light flooded into the room, blinding you for a moment. You raised your hand to shield yourself from the light before slowly bringing your hand down as you saw figures entering into the room.
Once your eyes finally adjusted, you recognised the figures in front of you.
Salauddin. Baldwin. Guy-
Guy?
All three of them stared at you, though your eyes remained focused on Baldwin, who looked at you, then at your clothes, and then... at Abbas.
The look of relief turned into confusion. What? Whats wrong?
You heard Salauddin yell something in Arabic at his soldiers, which made them instantly look away and leave the room. Baldwin kept looking at you in barely suppressed shock.
"Baldwin?" You whispered, though it was Salauddin who moved first, removing his chaddar and bending down to cover you with it, but your eyes were fixated on Baldwin's face. Why is he... looking at you like that?
Wait. If Baldwin and Salauddin are here together, then it means there's no war. Which means-
"Are you okay? What happened?" Salauddin asked you, though before you could answer him, Guy began laughing.
"Okay? She's more than okay!" He smirked. "After all, she was spending some time with her secret lover!"
Both your and Salauddin's eyes went wide. It finally clicked why Baldwin was looking at you like that.
He thinks you and Abbas-
"No. That's not true-" You tried to speak but Guy cut you off.
"Of course it is! Look at you, holding his head in your lap so sweetly!" He accused before snarling at you. "And you chose a dirty Muslim to cheat on our King? The audacity! And the lack of taste."
You shook your head. "Thats not true. This is Abbas. He's a- a craftsman-" "Oh, I'm sure you were pretty crafty with him too." Guy cut you off.
"Shut up, Guy!" You snapped. "I came to get my valuables from him. It was a gift! I had them commissioned for- for you Baldwin!" You half lied.
"And where is that gift?" Guy interrogated.
"I was robbed. We both were-" "Oh how convenient!" You glared at him. He was framing you. You pointed at your clothes. "How else do you explain the torn clothes?!"
Guy hummed and you knew you were going to regret as soon as a disgusting smile crept on his face.
"Well, animals fuck with wild passion-"
"I WAS ROBBED!" You yelled. "Look, the thief even knocked out Abbas!"
"I dont see a head injury." Guy shrugged. "I just think he's passed out from drinking. Or maybe his stamina wore out-"
"Shut up! Just shut up!" Your face was red with rage, though to anyone else it may have looked like you were caught red handed in a lie. You calmed yourself down. You need to explain before things got worse.
"Baldwin, I'm not having an affair with Abbas. He's married-" Once again, Guy cut you off, this time waving his hands. "My king, it doesnt matter to these Muslims. They're into polygamy. Whats one wife, when you can have four?"
Of all the things, this is the one thing he knows about Islam?
You didnt detect one, not a single emotion of trust or love from Baldwin's stoic face. Is he- is he actually believing this bull?
Why wouldnt he? He's a man after all. And who knows what other lies Guy has been filling his head with to make him doubt your loyalty?
Enough is enough. You need to come clean.
"You know what Guy? I was going to keep this a secret to let you beg for forgiveness, but I think its time for the truth, hm?" You watched Guy's smirk falter. Enough games. You stared at Baldwin with determination. "Here's what has happened Baldwin: Charlotte didnt just happen to drop by Jerusalem. No, Guy summoned her by pretending to be you. Oh and I have that exact letter where Guy used your respectful name as proof. Guy exploited Charlotte and his plan was to use her and her son's illness to infect you so that you could die and he could get your throne."
Guy's face paled. But you didnt stop there.
"Of course, when that didnt work because you and I have an unbreakable bond, Guy decided to get rid of me." You looked at Salauddin. "When I left for Egypt and I was at Salauddin's camp, he had hired assassins to ambush us in the dead of the night and kill me or Salauddin, or both! If I were to die while I was with Salauddin, he would've convinced you that Salauddin was the one who killed me. And if Salauddin was dead, then it meant good news for Guy because he would have to deal with one less enemy after he took your throne."
"Lies! There's no proof-"
"No proof? Baldwin, did you realise that more than half of my entourage was missing? Its because they're dead. And if that isnt enough proof, then this might help-" You pulled up your sleeves to show your fading burn marks. "My back is full of these marks because the assassins left me to die in a burning tent. It was Salauddin who saved me!"
"And today? When we heard you were coming, everyone thought that there will be a war. I left the palace on my own, to find you Baldwin. I wanted to stop you from committing unnecessary bloodshed! I came to Abbas's house to get my gift for you, but Guy sent a thief after us! The thief knocked us out and he robbed us both!" You explained. "Didn't you ever wonder Baldwin- why Guy decided to accompany you today? Guy has never left Jerusalem, not even for a war, not to defend his people. He wouldnt leave the throne empty! He hopes, he prays and he plots for you to die everytime you leave Jerusalem so that he can finally be king!"
"BLASPHEMOUS!" Guy screamed, red in the face. "You wench-!"
"With all due respect Guy, which is NONE! I didnt think you would be smart enough to come up with such schemes. I underestimated you, which turned out to be mistake because you made Baldwin doubt me!"
Guy shook his head and stood in between you and Baldwin, acknowledging the stoic faced king first. "This is slander! All lies, Baldwin! I'm your brother-in-law! I would never betray you!"
"Never betray Baldwin? You aren't even loyal to Sibylla! I could have more than half of Jerusalem attest to that you've tried sleeping with other women! Adulterer!" Guy's eyes practically popped out of his socket and he screeched.
"You dare accuse me of cheating?! YOU?! You're the one who is locked in a dark room with a strange man in your lap like a fucking whore!" Not risking Baldwin's suspicion, Guy stormed towards you with his hand raised to strike you.
"You unfaithful, lying bitch-!" You heard the air being sliced and you flinched as you felt something splatter across your cheek.
Thud.
You looked down to where the sound came from.
Guy's head dropped in front of you.
Your ears began ringing. Slowly, your eyes trailed back up to where his body remained.
Headless body. That fell to its knees before dropping to the side.
You could hear the ringing get louder.
Baldwin stood there, his eyes full of rage, his hand holding his sword that had just cut off Guy's head.
He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and a vein popped in his temple. Your heart dropped as his eyes landed on you and he moved towards you.
Your consciousness finally gave out.
Salauddin caught you but not for long as Baldwin made his way to you. Fearing for you, Salauddin tried to bargain for your life.
"Baldwin, she didnt-"
"Let her go. Now." Baldwin commanded, throwing Abbas's head off your lap. He didnt wait for Salauddin to move, simply taking you from his arms, ripping off the chaddar and replacing it with his cloak instead, before picking you up.
"Lets go home." He whispered in your ear before kissing your temple, pulling you snug against him as he walked out of the room.
-
You wake up to the feeling something wet on your legs. You jolt, eyes snapping open as you look for your potential assaulter-
"Isabella?" You croaked as you saw the young girl at the foot of the bed, her face red and eyes swollen from all the crying.
"P-princess." She greeted tearfully, holding a wet towel in her hand. Her lips wobbled as she spoke, nose bright red, sniffling as she stared at you with those big sad eyes.
"What's wrong?" You couldnt help but be soft with her. She just- she looked so pitiful.
She looked down, her hands clutching the towel tightly. "You- you were- you were gone for so many hours. I- I didnt know where you were- his majesty and the sultan- they were so mad- they were so concerned- i- i didnt think they believed me when I said I didnt know- where- where you were- i thou-thought you were-" Her tears cut off her hiccuping explanation. You didnt think she would be this distraught over you.
"Its... its okay, Isabella. You didnt do anything wrong. I'm... fine." You tried to calm her down, beckoning her forward. You sat up on the bed, taking the rag from her hands before holding her hands in yours. Giving them a gentle squeeze, you assured her. "I'm fine, Isabella. In fact, I should apologise for causing you all the trouble-" She shook her head. "No- princess- its my duty to serve-" You gave her hands another squeeze, calming her down.
"Thank you- oh. Isabella-" You looked at her hands, noticing something red peeking from her wrist. You pulled her sleeve up, realising that the redness was from the welts on her arms. "What happened?" You asked, turning her wrist around, noticing a small scratch.
She pulled her hands away, pulling down her sleeves as she sniffled. "N-nothing to worry about, princess-"
"Did you get injured? Are you okay?" She nodded. "I just- when I heard you were missing, it made me worry too much and I- I tend to scratch my arms when I'm stressed!"
You gave her sympathetic look, grabbing the cool towel from earlier and handing it to her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Isabella. Here- take this. It'll help your skin, hm?"
"But the king asked me to wipe your sweat with this-"
"Its fine- wait? What sweat?"
She nodded. "We've been travelling through the desert for some days. His Majesty suggested I be the one to wipe you clean while you were unconscious." Now that you looked around, you realised you were in a tent, much different in design to Salauddin's.
Wait, desert?
"We've left Egypt?"
"Yes-"
She stopped speaking as soon as the sound of footsteps filled the room.
You stiffened at the sight of Baldwin.
Isabella had to only take one look at his face before taking her leave. Events of the last time you had seen him flashed through your mind, and you couldnt help but be scared of him when you remembered the murderous look on his face as he killed Guy. It is one thing to know that a king has killed people, perhaps even more brutally than this but after spending so many months with Baldwin, you had become accustomed to his soft nature. Never in your worst nightmares could you have ever imagined such a barbaric actions from him, and to his own brother-in-law.
It made you question everything, your own mortality- your own safety with him.
"How are you feeling?" He had his arms crossed behind his back as he made his way towards you. It took everything for you to not flinch back and beg for your life. No- no, you need to think smartly. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldve gotten rid of you back there-
Or maybe he has decided to torture you.
"I'm fine." You replied weakly, keeping your eyes on your lap. You dont want to risk pissing him off.
Maybe I should apologise, clear the air before he has any other doubts about me.
"I'm sorry." You said abruptly, finally looking up at him. His stoic expression didnt falter. This is not the Baldwin you knew, no. This was the king you had imagined when you first came here. Stiff and apathetic.
Taking his silence as a sign, you continued. "I'm sorry... for everything. For hiding the truth about Guy, for causing misunderstandings, for making you doubt me-"
"I never doubted you." He cut you off.
Your brows raised in surprise. He sighed sitting down on the bed besides you.
"I never doubted you, Y/n. Not once." He said with conviction."I didnt doubt you when Salauddin said you'd be with Abbas. I didnt doubt you when Guy raised false allegations. I didnt doubt you when I saw you in that dark room alone with that man. You could've been naked in there and I still would not have doubted you."
Your lips parted. What... what was he-
"You trust me? That much?" You couldn't help but whisper.
He smiled sadly. "I do. And more than that, I trust in my love for you." Baldwin looked down at his hands, still smiling gently. "I love you so deeply that I know you would never betray me. I have loved you the way I want someone to love me. My love for you... it is free of impurity, of imperfection. And thats how I know you would never betray me."
You couldnt help the tears that came in your eyes, and you looked down. How could he- how could he-
"If anyone should apologise, it should be me, Y/n." Your head snapped back at him. He was looking at you with genuine guilt. "I may have loved you deeply but I have failed to express it to you. Had I- had I done a better job, had I let you know just how much I feel for you, you wouldn't have hesitated to come to me. You wouldn't have felt the need to hide your traumas, your pain from me. You wouldn't have felt shy to get my help, to tell me your secrets. All of this could've been avoided if I had made you feel secure enough to come to me. I alone am responsible-"
"Baldwin." Your teary voice cut him off. You shake your head, sniffling at him. "This- this isnt your fault- I-"
"You did nothing wrong." He assured you, holding your hand. "Traps were set for you, but it was my job to save you from them. I am your protector, your shield. I owe my life to you. I owe everything to you."
A tear slipped from your eye. "I- I didnt think you'd save me. I thought you didnt trust me- I thought I lost you forever." You dont know why you said that, but they were true.
"I would've found you. I will always find you." Baldwin cupped your cheek, he felt his heart break at your confession.
"If I don't go to you Y/n, then where do I go?" And at that, the dam you'd been holding finally broke.
Baldwin immediately pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you buried your head into his shoulder, sobs wracking your entire being. You dont know why you're crying, whether its because of Baldwin's pure love for you, or that Guy is dead because of you and you've ruined the timeline, or because you're mourning the loss of your time machine and its just dawning on you that you're stuck here forever.
He patted your back, rocking you gently like a child. "All my paths lead to you, Y/n. All my conquests bring me to you. Everything leads to you." He kissed your cheek, his hand petting your hair smoothly as you broke down in his arms. "You... you are the beginning and end of my everything."
Baldwin pulled you away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. "I love you, Y/n. And I know you love me too. You may not say it, but I know deep down in your heart, you love me. I know you do-"
"I love you, Baldwin." You said.
His eyes went wide. "You don't have to say it-"
"I love you, Baldwin. I really do." You admitted.
Baldwin's shock was replaced with joy, a grin gracing his face as he cupped your face and kissed your forehead deeply.
"You have no idea how happy you've made me." He whispered before pulling you into his embrace.
-
Following this, you both began your journey back to Jerusalem. Every now and then, you'd start crying again because you'd realised just how much you were loved by Baldwin. You remembered the time when you saw him with Charlotte and you didn't give him a chance to explain. You had already decided that he was a cheater, he was disloyal. Yet when the tables were turned, when everything pointed against you and Baldwin had every right to find you disloyal, have you punished for even being in a locked room with another man, he trusted you. He didn't question your love for him. And even if you didn't love him back then, you respected him enough, both as a king and as a man and he still didn't ask for an explanation, let alone accuse you of adultery.
The rest of the trip home was spent with you crying and Baldwin consoling you like a toddler. No matter how many times your tears fell, he was right there to wipe them away and assure you that you did nothing wrong.
Did you love Baldwin? Maybe not back then, but you do now. Perhaps he was right. Maybe you did love Baldwin deep down, you just didn't know it.
And it's not like you don't have a choice either way. With your time machine lost, you can't leave this place. So, you've accepted your fate and agreed to marry him. Baldwin says the wedding preparations are mostly complete and the wedding day is on Sunday.
Today is Friday, when you both finally reach Jerusalem. It didn't dawn on you until now just how you were going to face Sibylla, the woman whose husband was killed because of you.
But Baldwin already had a plan. "Guy was buried in an unmarked grave outside of Egypt. I have instructed my knights to inform everyone that Guy had died a dishonourable death because he was a traitor to the crown."
"Traitor to the crown?"
He nodded. "I'll tell Sibylla I caught him cheating on her and plotting against me." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Its believable. She'll be upset, but she'll get over it. Besides, she deserves better than him. I have already found a list of suitors for her."
He truly has thought of everything.
-
Sibylla as expected was the grieving widow and after she welcomed you and Baldwin, she excused herself and left. You pitied her, she really did love Guy despite all his shortcomings. But she also respected her brother.
After a quiet dinner, you had returned to your room. You sat on your bed as you thought over the events of the past few days. Baldwin had assured you that he doesnt hold any hostility towards Salauddin. In fact, to further put your mind at peace, he told you that he had invited Salauddin to the wedding. As for Abbas, Baldwin said he doesnt know what happened to him but he's sure Salauddin didnt harm the man.
"Did you ever find your family?" Baldwin had asked earlier. You shook your head, telling him that you mistaken someone you thought was family.
"I know you would prefer to have the Nikkah first, before our actual wedding, but I wasnt able to find someone to marry us off in the Islamic way. But then-" He grinned, almost proud of himself. "I decided who better than Salauddin?! Since he'll be arriving on the day of the ceremony, he could walk you down the aisle and then later that day, he could do the Nikkah for us!" You could only smile and agree, what difference does it make what ceremony happens first? You're stuck here either way, and you're gonna be his wife soon.
You sighed and got up to dress into something more comfortable. As you removed your clothes, your hand found something in your underclothes.
The key.
You fiddled with it. Its useless now. The thief probably has broken your machine or sold it and it could be anywhere in the world now, also useless without this key here.
You put it back in your underclothes. Perhaps it'll be of use you can craft your machine again one day.
Lying in your bed, you thought about Guy. You didnt feel guilty, no. He had it coming, and it really was a matter of you versus him at the end. But what bothers you is how much you had underestimated him.
Guy's plan was perfect. There was no chance of escape for you. He had ambushed you and Salauddin, and when you narrowly escaped that attack, he brought Baldwin to Egypt to cause misunderstandings between him and Salauddin. And when they found you with Abbas, all his allegations were perfectly said. You're only here because Baldwin was far too much in love with you. He had no reason to not take Guy's words over yours.
You turned to your side and closed your eyes.
Perhaps God saved me.
-
Today is Saturday and Sibylla had taken you to get your dress fitted.
"Whats that?" You pointed at the huge frame, covered by silk as the servants struggled to hang it on the wall.
"Oh, you're not supposed to see it yet, but Baldwin had commissioned a portait of you. He wants to gift it to you tomorrow, so dont peek. He'd hate to miss your first reaction." She explained.
"You look... absolutely stunning." Sibylla praised as she looked at you in awe. She brought some jewellery to pair with your white gown. A diamond necklace, tear drop earrings, and-
The ring.
"Its the-"
"The exact same ring!" Sibylla finished for you, slipping it on your finger. "After yours was stolen by that thief in Egypt, Baldwin had the same ring made again by the royal jeweller within a day!" Your heart warmed at the gesture. Baldwin must've known you felt guilty over losing his family ring.
"Isabella, will you pass me the veil?" You asked. Isabella brought the soft veil and helped you wear it. As she was adjusting it, your eyes caught sight of her hands again.
"Oh, they didnt heal?" You gently grabbed her hands, taking note of the same red welts on her arms again. She pulled her hands from your grasp away.
"N-no, they healed princess. Its just- its that I'm stressed again! Thats why my skin is itchy and I- scratched them raw."
"Stressed? By what?" You asked.
"Oh- um, the wedding." She muttered. "Its- its not that I'm not excited for it, I am very happy for the union of you and His majesty, but its just we have very little time and there's so much to do-"
You giggled, nodding at her understandingly. "I see. Well, I apologise for causing you to stress. And I hope you know how much I appreciate your efforts."
"Its my honour to serve you, princess." She squeaked.
"Well, do get those checked out soon, Isabella. I dont want you getting sick." Sibylla advised the young girl who bowed her head before taking her leave.
Sometime later, after you had lunch with Baldwin, you decided to go to the gardens and... be by yourself for a while.
Planned or not, I'm getting married tomorrow. This will be my last day as a single woman and I... I should savour every moment left.
You were sitting in a cozy little spot in the royal garden. It was besides the huge bush maze, near the area where your time machine had first gotten burned by the maids accidentally. Speaking of maids, the small entourage had given you space and were standing near the maze, away from your eyes with some knights. They were all eager to please you, the future queen, if only to get a better status by you or Baldwin.
But you had already decided to make Isabella your lady-in-waiting. She deserves it, for everything she's done for you.
You laid down on the soft bed of grass, looking up at the sky as you wondered what will happen tomorrow. Well, nothing about the wedding, Sibylla had made you rehearse several times that you knew exactly how the ceremony will go tomorrow. No, you were curious about... how your wedding will impact the future.
Will you cease to exist? Will the world change because the crusades might not happen since a Christian king married a Muslim commoner? Will there-
Doves flew up in the sky. You smiled, recalling the doves in Abbas's house. You hoped he was alright now. Maybe he could attend the wedding-
Wait.
You sat up with a jolt at the realisation, heart beating fast as you connected the dots.
-
Isabella rushed to the gardens. A servant had told her that you had immediately summoned her. Fearing the worst, she hiked up her gown and ran as fast as she could.
She was out of breath by the time she found you. "You called for me, princess?" She gasped out. You hummed, standing beside a gilded cage of doves.
"Arent they so beautiful?" You asked her, beckoning her to come forward. "They are indeed." She agreed, standing beside you.
"I was thinking of releasing them tomorrow, outside the chapel. All the maids could hold them in their hands and release them as I walk out with the king. What do you think?"
She nodded. "Wonderful idea. I'll go and have it arranged-"
"Hm? Oh, I took care of that. Why dont you open the cage and hold this one for me?" You smiled at her as you made you took a few steps back. "And gloves off, Isabella. I want to see how you will look like tomorrow."
Isabella throat ran dry, She gulped looking at you, then at the cage before back at you.
"I- I cant hold the doves, princess. They'll slip out of my hands-"
"We have plenty here for you to practise. Dont worry. Now make haste." You crossed your arms in front of you and looked at her expectantly.
She parted her lips to say something, but then looked back at the cage. "Whats the matter? Dont know how to hold them?" You sighed before making your way back to the cage. "They're just tiny little birds, gentle ones really. They wont bite you, so I dont know why you fear them. Here, let me show you how to hold one." You opened the cage and carefully held the dove in your hands, petting it softly. "There, there."
You suddenly thrusted the bird in her direction, and Isabella jumped back. "What's the matter? Scared of birds?"
Isabella hesitantly nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry princess- I- I- dont like birds. I'm very much afraid of them." You nodded understandingly, before placing the bird back in the cage. "How very inconsiderate of me. Very well, off you go." Isabella bowed graciously and was about to leave when you suddenly grabbed her arm and rubbed a feather along her exposed arm.
"P-princess-!" She shrieked, trying to yank her arm out of your grasp but your grip didnt relent.
"Would you look at that?" You grinned looking at the area turning bright red. "Are you itchy now? Did I stress you too much?"
Isabella could only look at you in horror as you became angry.
"How stupid do you think I am?" You snarled before throwing her hand down. "That itchy red skin wasnt from stress, it was from birds!" Her eyes widened.
"You had me thinking that your tears, your red skin, your snotty sniffles was because you were soooo concerned for me. But you actually had the rose fever from birds!" You recalled seeing the scratch on her hands the day you had first seen her skin, which wasnt just random skin welts. They were hives, from her allergy to avian protein (or birds, in simple terms).
Isabella could only look at you in silence as you continued. "How long did you think you could keep this charade up? Did you honestly think I wouldnt find out?!" She kept quiet while you continued, which only made you angrier.
"It was you. You were the thief. You- only you knew when I would leave the palace. You followed me! And you stole from me?!" When she didnt speak, your threatened her.
"Say something before I tell the king how you attacked me!"
Isabella looked up, and she smirked.
"You have no proof."
You looked at her in disbelief. Instead of defending herself, denying all the things- she basically admitted to it all.
"Isabella, where are my belongings?" You asked her. "If you return my things, I wont let you stay here, but I will let you leave this castle on your two feet." You didnt bother asking her why she did it, you cant waste any more time. You need to get your time machine back.
She shrugged, playing with her nails. Now that she was caught, she didnt bother putting up her scared, demure little girl image. "It doesnt matter. You will never get it. And you're not getting rid of me either. After all, you have no proof of any of the things you accused me of."
"You think you're going to get away with it?" She hummed. "I already have, princess. Now, I will be returning to my duties to prepare for you wedding tomorrow. And I think we'll do no birds-"
You pulled out a knife, silencing her. She looked at the knife before smiling. "Are you really going to kill me? Did you forget how I overpowered you and Abbas back there?"
"I havent." You bring the knife up to your throat. "But if you dont tell me where my belongings are this instant, I will slit my throat and let you explain to the king how you killed me. Oh and you may think you can just sneak out of here, but remember, there's a whole entourage who saw you come here. They'll tell Baldwin you were the last person to see me, and then no matter where you run, Baldwin will hunt you down. Him and his Templar knights."
Her brows furrowed at your threat. "Princess, I dont-"
"Dont think for a moment I wont do it, Isabella. I'm mental." When she remained quiet, you pressed the blade harder into your neck, just enough for the skin to break and blood to pour, making her eyes wide.
"Okay! Okay- stop! I'll tell you."
-
Isabella lead you to a room inside the castle, hidden away in a corner. You had never been here before, you realised when you stepped inside. She pulled out a drawer from the desk, which had a false floor in it. Lifting the wooden panel, you saw all your belongings, including your time machine.
"Leave." You ordered her. Once you were alone, you pulled out the key from your underclothes and placed it inside. Saying a tiny prayer, you turned on the machine.
It worked. The tiny lights turned on. All you had to do was set the date and-
The machine was snatched from your hands. "Isabella drop-!" Your eyes widened at the sight of Baldwin holding the machine.
"What are you doing?" He asked you, looking at the machine.
"Baldwin, please give it back-"
"This?" He shook the machine in his hands. "Sure, you can have it." He smiled at you before bashing the machine to the ground.
"BALDWIN NO! STOP!" You tried to stop him, but Baldwin pushed you away and kept smashing the machine until its lights went out and they key broke.
"NOOOOO!" You finally snatched it from his hands but it was too late. The screen wouldnt turn on, wouldnt display the date no matter what you did. The key was broken.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" You cried out.
"What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you?!" Baldwin yelled. "What were you going to do with that? Leave me, the love of your life, to go where?! Back to heaven?!"
Heaven? No fucking way-
"Do you- do you actually think I'm an angel?" Oh god. The look on his face was enough to let you know that he was actually serious.
"You can deny it all you want, but I am your husband to be and you cannot lie to me! You appeared out of nowhere in my castle. You cured me, you brought that baby back to life and you have escaped death one too many times! You may think I'm a fool, but I'm the king of Jerusalem, head of the Church and you were sent to me by God Himself! YOU ARE MINE AND I WILL NOT LET YOU GO BACK!"
Oh God. Oh God, you're marrying a crazy person.
Wait.
"How did you know I was here?" Your brows knitted together when he didnt reply, still looking at you in rage. "Did Isabella-" You gasped.
Of course. OF-FUCKING-COURSE!
"She wasnt a thief. She was a spy!" You chuckled humourlessly. "All this time, I thought Guy was behind it all, but I knew- I knew he was too dumb to come up with such a plan. It was you! It was always you! You sent the Ismailis after me! You sent Isabella after me to steal my belongings and spy on me! You set me up with Abbas so that when you "saved" me, I'd fall for you! Oh and I'm sure you made it seem like Charlotte was also here because Guy had called her. You framed Guy just so that you could have an excuse to get rid of him!"
"I did it because I love you!"
"You hurt me because you loved me?" You whispered to him, tears flowing down your cheeks. "I almost burned to death because of you. And you say- no. Why did you do this, Baldwin? Why the hell did you do all this?!"
"I was- I was testing you." He answered, bending down on his knee to cup your face. "I... only wanted to see if you would come to me for help. If you truly trusted me, loved me enough to come to me." He wiped your tears away. "I'm sorry it had to happen this way, but it worked out in the end-"
"You dont test the people you love, Baldwin."
"Oh, come on. Even God tests his strongest believers-"
"YOU ARE NOT GOD!" You shrieked, pushing him away.
"I'm not, but I'm special to Him. He made you for me. He gifted you to me. He made you fall in love-"
"I dont love you!" You cried. "I can never love you! Never!"
Baldwin's face hardened. "You do love me. You said so yourself. Now, youre just saying nonsense out of hysterics. Calm down-"
"I hate you. I have never loathed anything as much as I loathe you. I would never love you, even if you were the last man on Earth. I fucking hate you."
Baldwin stared at your red face. "Well, I hope you can change your mind because we will be getting married tomorrow regardless." He tried to touch your face but you slapped his hand away. "Besides, I love you enough for the both of us."
-
Its Sunday. You were locked in your room with a whole infantry ordered to not let you out. You had cried the entire night at your loss, at your fate, at your stupidity. How could you have ever trusted Baldwin? And now you will have to marry this religious lunatic.
The maids did their best to dress you up and tried to mask your red, swollen eyes. And with Isabella in the room, you were sure she had told them to not comment at your pitiful state.
You were standing outside the chapel with Salauddin. Everything seemed to blur, the choir singing, the attendees- you couldnt focus on anything.
"Y/n." You finally looked up at Salauddin, who was looking at you with deep concern. "Are you okay?" He asked you, noticing your teary eyes and dull expression.
"No."
He wasnt expecting you to answer bluntly.
"Do you want to marry Baldwin?" He whispered.
"No."
"I can help you-"
"No." You sniffled. "No one can."
The knights stood outside the chapel doors, waiting for you to enter. A few ladies held your trail behind you. Salauddin cast a glance at them before passing you something in your hand discreetly.
"Abbas asked me to give you this."
You opened your palm to see-
A key.
The key!
But how did he make this? You never designed it-
You smiled. That genius. He must've used the other parts to figure out the design and crafted it.
Abbas, I'm sorry I dont give you enough credit.
"Give him my thanks. And a lot of money, hm?" Salauddin could only nod in confusion. You looked back at your ladies. "I need to pee." Their eyes widened at the use of such crass language, especially in front of the sultan.
"But princess, the ceremony is about to start-"
"Would you rather I pee in my gown?" You snapped.
"But there is no bathroom here-"
"Then be useful and find a sheet and a bush. Now!" They all scrambled away to find some bush. You looked at the knights in front of you. "Go inside and inform them of a delay. The princess has to take a shit."
They looked hesitant to leave. "I'm not taking off my underclothes in front of you men. LEAVE!" They hurriedly went inside and closed the door to give you privacy.
You looked at Salauddin. "Can I borrow your horse?" He nodded, helping you up on it.
"Where are you going? I'll come with."
You shake your head. "No. I have to go alone. And I suggest you go inside as well."
"Y/n-"
"Please, Salauddin. No more questions. I dont want to lie to you." You smiled at him.
Salauddin reluctantly went inside the chapel, and you rode the horse out of there. There was only so long before Baldwin realised you had left, so you needed to speed things up. Grateful that you had swapped your broken time machine during your heated argument with Baldwin. You placed the new key in, just as you heard the sound of galloping horses and Baldwin-
"Y/N!" You didnt pay attention as you sped off ahead, only stopping when you reached the edge of the cliff. Climbing down, you looked at your machine as you turned the key.
It didnt turn on.
No. No. No-
"Y/N! GET BACK HERE!" Baldwin yelled at you, getting off his horse as he made his way. His troops had surrounded the area so you couldnt escape.
You looked back at your time machine and you- you banged it with your hand. "Come on. Come on!" This had to work- you banged on it as you would bang on a TV set when it stopped working, on a remote when it didnt operate quite right.
"Did you think you could escape me?!" You looked up and Baldwin was a few feet away.
"Baldwin stop!" You took a step back, nearing the cliff. "I'll jump-I'll fucking jump, I swear!" He halted.
"Dont be stupid, Y/n. Come to me, and we can put this behind us-"
You banged on the machine, cutting him off.
The machine turned on.
You grinned as Baldwin stared at you, shaking his head. "Dont-"
You jumped, pressing the button and hoping you returned to your time. You hadnt been able to set the date cause of the broken buttons.
The last thing you heard was Baldwin screaming your name.
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So what do you guys think? Yall better comment and send asks and reboots because i sacrificed lunch and dinner for this.
Also, what do u guys think will happen in the next part? Do you think she'll return home or to a new timeline??? And which era???👁👁
PART 8 is here!
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onlyswan · 2 months
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dreamboat | jjk (1)
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summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.
non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k
warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho
-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)
note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily
࿐ for those who yearn <3
“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”
jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment. 
from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.
he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something. 
his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed. 
“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.
“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground. 
he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place. 
“what do you think i work here for?” 
taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”
he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease. 
unhappy faces with blank stares. 
he smiles at them cheerfully.
“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!” 
“jungkook! sit!” 
“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung. 
“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat. 
“what?”
his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying. 
the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.
he imagined he would be alone here again today.
but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship. 
the earth begins to move in slow motion. 
they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing. 
gone is the smile on his face. 
jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are. 
are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking? 
for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified. 
and why is his breaking too? 
your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays. 
what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?
lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.
the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding. 
there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool. 
slow motion comes to a full stop.
shit, shit, shit. 
why can’t he look away? 
you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it. 
he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.
“huh?”
the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.
wait, including you… 
when did you get a cap?!
“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.
he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again. 
“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”
taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair. 
“does he have snacks in here at least?”
blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand. 
he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.
“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 
you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion. 
you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.” 
you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to. 
he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time. 
“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to  have troubles.” 
he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance. 
“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.” 
seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true. 
could it really be because of a boy?
a bicycle enters his line of vision. 
a little too close not to cause an accident. 
“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield. 
the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 
jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!” 
the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton. 
“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”
“yah! what was that for?!” 
he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?! 
while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm. 
his angry expression softens. 
you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.
“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. 
“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…” 
you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!” 
he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. 
even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.
“why?”
he has the same question.
“just because…”
no, that won’t do it.
“maybe it could make you feel better.”
oh my god.
“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”
still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy. 
“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.
he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty. 
meeting you— this is probably the first and last time. 
he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again. 
blue top and black cap… 
there you are. 
leaving- 
wait. 
the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?
he huffs in sheer disbelief.
“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 
if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.  
she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple. 
as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that? 
“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”
the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day. 
“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 
“thanks,”
he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.  
“you’re welcome!” 
 
“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog. 
jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.
“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.” 
“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”
“do you want to die?” 
“no, but it looks like you will before me.” 
jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”
“were you up all night thinking of that girl?” 
“huh? no.”
“you’re lying.”
“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. 
so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us. 
taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?” 
“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.” 
“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”
“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.” 
“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”
“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 
“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 
took him long enough to deduce.
“then should we go after your nap?” 
“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”
taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.” 
jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“okay, fine!” 
in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms. 
“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life. 
jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head. 
 
it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation. 
one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks. 
he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts. 
he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed? 
“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!” 
completely unrelated. 
a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 
“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?” 
jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice. 
“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”
“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.” 
“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.” 
“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.” 
“so what? we all got issues.” 
“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.” 
“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.” 
wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.
“now, shall we rank up?” 
 
it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.
too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities. 
at least that’s the excuse he used. 
his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.
he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.
jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness. 
they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.
jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down. 
“hello everyone,” he coos at them.
do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum. 
“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.” 
 
on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you. 
eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes. 
that is when he finally notices you. 
your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time. 
despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours. 
“i know you…” 
a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head. 
“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”
and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief. 
well, and there’s also the crippling shame.
you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself. 
it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?
“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”
you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 
is that a good thing or a bad thing? 
it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet. 
“yeah, light pink…” 
“it suits you well.” 
“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with. 
a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across. 
“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”
“i moved in today.”
“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 
you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.
“i live at the 13th floor.“ 
what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.
“how about you?” 
“hm, 10!” 
you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.
“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”
“names?” 
the random question seems to catch him off guard.
“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”
“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”
but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display. 
 
the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia. 
he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness? 
he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away. 
funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again. 
“do you want to feed them?” he offers. 
“i already did.”
“you did?”
“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”
“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”
you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?” 
“when i come home from work.”
“that’s nice…” 
the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet. 
“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”
“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”
“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 
pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 
“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.” 
his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.
“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”
he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.
however, he is a tiny bit confused.
it shows on his face, apparently.
“the motor kind,” you clarify. 
“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!” 
it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him. 
“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!” 
your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.
“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin. 
he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight. 
hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.
“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”
 
jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.
what a small world, huh? 
what is this if not fate?
he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.
this might just become the best summer of his life. 
jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again. 
wait, there’s something wrong…
he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.
“ah, i’m so stupid!”
he totally forgot to ask your name! 
“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor. 
he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn. 
he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek. 
“still having a bad day.” 
but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right? 
so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits. 
his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.
he taps his foot on the floor.
he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.
he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.
next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 
he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard. 
he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days. 
what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep. 
for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business. 
if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off. 
he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop. 
he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears. 
the elevator dings and he runs.
until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. 
your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move. 
you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?
“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”
“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”
the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.” 
“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock. 
“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!” 
“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”
jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again. 
“this is jungkook.” 
the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink. 
“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.” 
“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!” 
“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium. 
you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days? 
“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!” 
he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption. 
“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.” 
jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary. 
“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!” 
so, his name is jungkook…
you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace. 
the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you. 
“he’s a good kid.”
you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.
long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium. 
“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.” 
after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north. 
“hyung…”
“why?” 
jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 
“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion. 
“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.” 
thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park. 
well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall. 
he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions. 
jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 
“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”
“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”
“i don’t have her number.”
“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”
“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”
“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.” 
“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!” 
seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room. 
“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!” 
“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 
you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps. 
“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.” 
“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.” 
jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”
jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess. 
since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack. 
“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”
“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.” 
“i won it fair and square!” 
he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home. 
“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”
he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.” 
his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof. 
so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing. 
too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve. 
when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.
a car with blinding headlights zooms past.
it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him. 
there’s no one around here with same hair color. 
none that he knows of anyway. 
he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything. 
he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty. 
you were going to notice his presence eventually. 
he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 
you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word. 
you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.
you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot. 
he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him. 
could have it been on purpose? 
“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”
“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse. 
“is there anything i can do?”
no response. 
he tries again. “anything at all?” 
“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!” 
your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you. 
“i don’t know you! stay away from me!” 
your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes. 
he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.” 
a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.
you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet. 
nothing matters anymore.
you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair. 
you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw. 
they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.
so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.  
you pray to god that you never wake up.
you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing. 
you open your eyes to darkness.
just as you predicted; nobody listens. 
you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors. 
you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void. 
the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person. 
your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages. 
under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.
after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook. 
he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.
it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life. 
yes, he’s about to be in third year college. 
no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 
no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush. 
“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”
his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on. 
“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”
the live is temporarily put on pause. 
“who is this?”
his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.
  2:45am
hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok. 
this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time. 
a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips. 
you texted him. you finally texted him.
he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t! 
he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?
“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.” 
he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again. 
“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?” 
he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 
“i don’t think so…”
hold on…
it feels like he’s forgetting something…
“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic. 
he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.
“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.” 
his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now. 
his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 
given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off. 
how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator. 
a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it. 
there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you. 
you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 
the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money. 
the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances. 
“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.” 
“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 
with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki. 
“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”
your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?” 
“how? it’s easy!” 
he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 
“you have the exact same nose.” 
“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.” 
your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.
“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.” 
cute. 
“so… why did you lie?”
he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?
you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.
“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”
you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation. 
“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”
it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost. 
“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously. 
“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’” 
“yeah?” 
“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”  
you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.
“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”
“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”
“h-how do i do that?” 
“flick my forehead!”
you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”
“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary. 
why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off. 
“let’s do that!”
“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.” 
but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt. 
“here i go!”
he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”
he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.” 
son of a bitch. that hurt. 
“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!” 
you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”
  —
“you fed them, right?”
“of course i did. you?”
“yes, this morning.”
“okay, that’s good.”
you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes. 
deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle. 
he sneaks a glance at you.
perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you. 
he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. 
he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch. 
“it’s called the dreamboat.”
“what is?” 
the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again. 
“at the amusement park.” 
“oh…”
it falls silent. 
jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet. 
“i wonder why they called it that.”
“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.” 
a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.” 
“what was it?” 
“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”
jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t. 
“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”
a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin. 
“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”
“how did you know that though? the truth?”
he shrugs. “i work there.”
“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”
“you? do you study or work?”
“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?” 
apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.
“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”
you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”
ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job. 
“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.” 
“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 
his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart. 
once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you. 
“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”
“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”
“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.” 
you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”
“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”
“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.” 
he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.
“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.” 
in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything. 
“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.” 
“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you. 
“but it turns out they have you already.”
“it’s not just me now.”
he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.
“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”
jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit. 
your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.
“uhm, this is me.” 
yup, the same door he saw you come out of. 
“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”
your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind. 
he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass. 
  10:08am
[attached image]
they’re happy and fed :)
10:10am
[attached image]
babies are getting bigger
this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.
were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after? 
no longer relevant. 
he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool. 
another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face. 
although, there was once a miracle.
he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.
  11:59pm
LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ
😭😭😭
“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!” 
things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations. 
‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’
he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 
“when are you asking her out on a date?”
taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch. 
“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.” 
“when’s that ‘right time’?” 
“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.” 
“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”
that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor. 
“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.” 
“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.” 
the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.
“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”
he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed? 
“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing. 
and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”
“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”
“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”
“this vacation was a trap.”
the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.
“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!” 
a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.
  
“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”
does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work. 
the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by. 
seconds later, a black harley races past.
jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together. 
the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter. 
“w-was that…?”
he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again. 
you’re so fucking cool. 
he’s both amazed and envious. 
also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center. 
a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client. 
he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set. 
the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.
“what? who could it be at this hour?” 
he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight. 
the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say. 
“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”
jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like. 
“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle. 
he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this. 
“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.
you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.” 
“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”
“thank you.”
you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you. 
“i’m really scared, jungkook.”
“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”
“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!” 
his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.” 
“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.” 
he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he is terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.
“and you said… he was burnt?” 
“yeah, why?”
he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”
“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”
“i swear, it's nothing!”
“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”
“forget it, ____.”
“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”
shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.
he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.” 
“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”
“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.” 
he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine. 
“oh… so you’re saying…”
“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.” 
“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice. 
“don’t!” he protests. 
perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious? 
“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”
“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?” 
that works like a charm. 
you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state. 
if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would. 
“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea. 
“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.” 
“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.” 
he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.
“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”
“thank you, jungkook.” 
“it’s no problem!”
his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it. 
you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp. 
he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%. 
sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse. 
“is that your girlfriend?” 
jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.
“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 
he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”
“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.
“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”
“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.” 
“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”
“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory. 
“a client. people pay me to draw them.”
“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.
the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.
he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”
“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?” 
“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.” 
“no one’s asked you?”
he shakes his head. “no one,”
“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 
he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming. 
what the fuck?
did he hear you right? 
it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears. 
“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”
“sorry, i was just surprised.” 
he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels. 
“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket. 
please do and stop shaking up my heart. 
“goodnight.” 
“goodnight, ____.” 
jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward? 
anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.
he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies. 
sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.
“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?” 
oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago. 
“of course,” 
he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress. 
if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this. 
it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful. 
“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe. 
jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy. 
true to your words, you did move as morning came. 
jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside. 
“____?” 
he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen. 
did you really leave without saying goodbye? 
he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night. 
a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.
he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings. 
“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”
“jungkook! you’re awake.” 
you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.
“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”
he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.
“1309?” he exclaims.
“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.” 
almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away. 
he’s fucking ecstatic. 
if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align. 
the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam. 
“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?” 
time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you. 
what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he? 
now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks. 
fuck, he misses you. 
your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away. 
he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman. 
an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.
No Name
Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 
snack break at the aquarium? 
he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you. 
did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying? 
ridiculous. 
so cute and ridiculous. 
“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”
jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart. 
but most importantly, what did you just say?
“y-you didn’t throw it away?”
“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”
“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!” 
he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.
“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”
“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.” 
you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”
  “i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night. 
“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”
the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move. 
“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?” 
“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”  
you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 
he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.
“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 
jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with. 
“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?” 
“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building. 
“you free sunday?” 
“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.” 
please say yes.
“sure, that works.”
he breaks into a triumphant smile. 
yes! 
jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.
“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator. 
“you can barely see my face.” 
“i see it!”
your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him. 
“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully. 
“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.” 
this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work. 
“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?” 
scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”
“i’m joking!” you giggle.
“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.
that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck. 
“you can joke about it but i can’t?!” 
you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.
the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.” 
while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’ 
“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.
“i’ll pay you back.” 
“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.
“yeah, okay,” you respond listlessly. “then i’ll buy our dinner. samgyupsal?”
“call!” 
jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 
“okay, let’s go.”
he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.
the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall. 
of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish. 
“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”
not even in art or television. it’s strange. 
he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek. 
his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 
he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful  eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.
a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss. 
if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now. 
“it’s not the fish i want.” 
he doesn’t hear you. 
do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 
“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”
his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium. 
“like you,” the words slip out without thought.
a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface? 
“like me…”
— 
after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified. 
he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory. 
the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.
it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.
“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.” 
you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.  
“have any ideas?”
“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”
he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.
“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.” 
“those are cute names.”
“you like them?”
“yes, they really sound like siblings!”
“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”
“hmmm…” 
he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”
“sorry,” he winces.
your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived. 
“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”
“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”
you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called. 
he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  
“sunflower, daisy, azalea… for-forthysia? lily, cosmos, dahlia-”
“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.
“dahlia it is!” 
“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable. 
“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 
“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”
he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.” 
and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is. 
“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”
“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.” 
“should i just give it to you?”
you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”
“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.” 
“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.” 
your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs. 
“i like being the only one.”
you fell asleep seconds after that.
he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination. 
it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do. 
a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it. 
eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 
920 notes · View notes
mickyschumacher · 2 months
Note
can you please do a Carlos imagine where Carlos and Y/N are out partying after a race. Y/N gets approached by a drunk and inappropriate guy who either trys to touch her says some inappropriate things, and Carlos steps in. He’s the crazy protective boyfriend, and he ends up getting into a fight with the guy. Carlos gets cut by a broken beer bottle during the fight, so Y/N gets to care for his wound, and basically gets to play nurse on Carlos
𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞.
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after winning the australian grand prix, carlos and you decide to take on some partying. what you didn't expect was to end the night nursing your boyfriend.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slightly suggestive at the end (16+), depictions of blood and fighting, reader is harassed by creepy ugly disgusting man, mentions of alcohol, small consolation, poor humour, google translated spanish by yours truly, fluff, and lastly, shitty proof-reading
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x girlfriend!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.3k
𝐀/𝐍: so so sorry it took this long! i didn't go fully for smut because idk if you wanted it but i'm happy to make a part two in the near future! hope you enjoyed it ♡︎
𝐀/𝐍: welcome to my drabble/blurb phase because i, for the life, of me cannot produce long fics consistently despite constantly having ideas! although i am redefining the meaning of drabbles and blurbs with this word count :)
𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The Australian Grand Prix. The third race into the season. Max had won the last two, predictably setting the tone for the rest of the year. Carlos, on the other hand, needed to up his game.
You were together when you found out he had lost his seat for the following year. Boy, were you gutted. Carlos had done everything in his power, forever compared to Ferrari's golden boy. He liked Charles, but what the fuck was he supposed to do with this type of treatment? And to make matters worse, Lewis was a great driver pulling great results in shit car.
Carlos needed to win. He needed to be the most wanted in that damn paddock. And while Max was winning so far, the universe often has it's odd ways.
Even if that was in the form of fiery flames on Max's brakes in the opening laps.
You remembered it as clear as day.
You were in as much disbelief as anyone else, eyes widened as Max's car slowed, grey smoke billowing out of the rear while even the Haas and Williams surpassed him.
Your eyes hesitantly moved to the large screens in the garage, zoning in on the number one row to see Carlos' name sprawled next to it. A gasp fell from your lips, eyes averting to a shouting Oñoro before you hugged each other with shaky hands.
Your heart was in your ears, thudding in echoes. Hands sticky at your sides as you watched the the last lap. You knew the outcome. Yet you couldn't stomach it. With a tight throat, you weren't sure if you going to throw up or break into tears.
Instead of your heartbeat, you found the roars of Ferrari deafening. Flashes of white cameras mixed with the air as the sun warmed your golden boy. Looking up through your lashes, you caught his gleaming smile before catching the feel of his lips on yours.
Carlos had won. He was the most wanted driver in the damn paddock.
And that deserved a celebration.
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You and Carlos weren't ones for partying. Not unless it was with the right people. And there was nothing more right than a Grand Prix winner and all his supporters in one place.
It was packed. Bodies so close together, full of sweaty rivulets amongst the humidity and strobe lights. The music felt foundational as it coursed from your feet and into your veins.
Carlos watched you dance in front of him. You were remarkable. Skin so flushed that in even in the flickering lights, you radiated. Your hair stuck to your glittering skin, but nowhere near as close as the dress you had worn for him.
He smiled softly at the cheeky gaze your gave him, large hand reaching out to grab your waist. His cheek skimmed your face as he pressed a kiss onto your cheek. "You're killing me."
"All in a day's work," you quipped, hanging your hands around his neck. You could hear Carlos' huff of amusement over the pulsing music. You held those brown puppy eyes, drinking them in, you smiled. "I'm proud of you, cariño."
The humour on his face faded, replaced by a moment of fulfilment. His other hand moved to caress your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. His thumb moved in small soothing circles. "Thank you."
His words sounded like a whisper in the loudness, but you could hear how much it meant to him as much as you could see it.
You lifted your head up, bringing your lips to his. Carlos' grip on your waist tightened, his own lips quirking into a smile as you kissed him with the entirety of your heart. Gone was any trace of alcohol or humidity in the air. All you could feel, smell, and taste was Carlos. And you loved it.
Breathlessly, you begrudgingly moved away from Carlos, taking a moment to come up for air.
"Let me get you a drink, hermosa," Carlos offered, grinning at the jut of your lips as you pouted. "I'll be back soon. Fastest pitstop ever."
You laughed loudly, throwing your head back, entirely unaware of the mystical trance you had brought Carlos into. With the nod of your head, you gestured for him to go on.
Watching the retreating figure of Carlos, you found yourself amused and entertained at the sight of Lando's valiant DJing efforts. Another driver who was enjoying his first podium of the year.
You were only moving lightly to the music, waiting for Carlos with little patience. But the sudden cold shiver that had travelled up your body had set the alarms off in your mind. Your throat felt dry at the unfamiliar hand on your shoulder and your body felt uneasy upon looking at the sleazy stranger.
"Hello, sweetheart! How are you doing?" The Australian accent was exceptionally loud over the music and the alcohol reeked, particularly from the beer bottle in his hand.
You winced, trying to keep a fake smile at bay. "Great," you murmured, attempting to move your shoulder away from him but the man's fingers were latched.
"Aw, now don't be like that," he retorted, taking a step closer to you. "Let's dance... get to know each other a little, hmm?"
The hairs of your body stood straight. "I... my boyfriend will be here soon, then we can get to know each other."
You wanted to shrivel into a ball at the sickening laugh that had fallen from the stranger's lips. "Oh, he doesn't need to know anything. Come on, baby," he egged, bottled-hand suddenly finding your waist, "can't you feel how much I want you?"
Bile found it's way up your throat but you managed to keep it down. "No, I don't," you said sharply, "you need to leave."
You tried to move your hands away from him, pushing at his chest, but his grip was only getting tighter, moving down your body in the most repulsing manner. What the hell? Suddenly you felt like you were all alone in this club. Where the hell was everyone?
"She said leave."
You snapped your head to the familiar Spanish voice, relief flooding into your system but only momentarily as the scenario escalated at an unearthly speed.
Your eyes widened, feeling a mix of warm and cold air rush past your body as the stranger was ripped off of you and thrown to the ground. Shit.
You couldn't gather what was even going on. Carlos was straddling the man, pummelling him repeatedly. The music, you think, has stopped. A crowd had formed. Lando and Oñoro had quickly made their way, trying to diffuse the situation.
Your heart skipped a few beats as Carlos took a few hits himself. And the sound of glass shattering bordered on you having a heart attack. Fuck, fuck, this was bad. You could see people pull out their phones, recording, which only baffled you even more.
You aided Oñoro in pulling Carlos away, sucking in a sharp breath at the string of angry curses falling your boyfriend's mouth, moving between English to Spanish. "¡Jodido gilipollas! ¿Quién coño te crees que eres? That's my girlfriend, you creep. ¡Nunca la toques con esas asquerosas manos! ¡Te joderé si te vuelvo a ver!" Fucking asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are? That's my girlfriend, you creep. Don't ever touch her with those disgusting hands! I will fuck you up if I ever see you again!"
"Es suficiente, Carlos," you appeased, urging him to stay away as you began to spot the runs of blood down the sides of his face and neck, mixed in with the loose beer. That's enough, Carlos.
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You still weren't sure what was going on. You had no idea where Oñoro had gone after sending you and Carlos to your hotel room because, God forbid, Carlos' PR team had a lot of work to do, legally and socially.
Lando had briefly dropped in, grabbing a first aid kid from the hotel staff before leaving with Oñoro.
You quietly watched Carlos walk into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, water covering his body as he had washed off all the beer and blood.
Carlos captured the pained look on your face, eyeing the patches of red skin across his chest and the nicks on his face. He sighed, holding in a wince as he sat next to you. "I'm fine, hermo–"
"You are an idiot," you cut him off, handing him the ice pack you had made from the hotel's materials. "Hold this on your chest, it'll reduce the swelling."
You leaned in the further, trying to take a better look at him. A frown made it's way onto your face. The more you looked, the worse you felt. The red patches on his chest, the bruised cheek, and the worst of all, the horrid gash across his hand.
Carlos carefully watched you chew your lip, tediously grabbing his injured hand, inspecting the wound. The pain which had gotten worse in midst of his shower quickly began to dissipate at your touch. If there was any stinging pain, he couldn't feel it, even when you had cleaned the gash.
"Why didn't you call me?" Carlos queried, breaking the thick silence that had been held over you.
You paused your cleaning, briefly flickering your eyes to his face before quickly averting in the fear you would be sucked up into a whole new problem in those luring brown eyes. Furrowing your brows, you resumed. "I had it under control," you lied with a determined stubbornness.
Carlos laughed softly in amusement before wincing at the stretch of his bruised cheek. He sighed. "I don't doubt that you did," he started, hand reaching out to gently move your chin towards him, "but you should've come and found me. Or even Oñoro or Lando."
You couldn't help but return a sigh, hesitantly putting the antiseptic onto his hand, awaiting any jerking reaction. You realised he was waiting for some sort of response, ignoring any pain shooting up his fingers. "I know," you told him, "I just... froze."
Carlos softened his eyes. "Cãrino... I'm sorry you had to go through that. I-I should've stayed. Are you okay?"
You gave him a pointed look. He had already asked you that, mere seconds after you had pulled him away from the fight. You held back an eye roll at the raised brows Carlos gave you. "I'm fine, Carlos. I'm not the one beat up."
"If I got there any later..." Carlos trailed off, unsure if he was sick or angry at the thought.
You paused, almost falling into the same train of thought but you shook it off. You grabbed the roll of bandage, unravelling the strip of white around his hand. "But you didn't," you reassured, giving him a small smile. Carlos smiled, nodding in agreement.
"Can we exterminate men?"
A laugh quickly fell from your lips at the question. God, how many times have you thought about that one before?
You finished wrapping the bandage, tying a small secure knot before grabbing the ice pack from his other hand. Inching closer to him, you gently pressed the ice on his cheek. "And what about you then?"
Carlos raised a brow, using his free hand to pull you onto his lap. You gasped at the coldness on your waist as waves of cold flushed your body. "I'm excluded from this... obviously."
"Obviously," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "Are you sure though? Because I wouldn't mind it," you teased.
"Really?" Carlos narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer to you. "You wouldn't mind no kisses, no hugs, no... touches?"
All of a sudden your throat felt dry at his words. His cold fingers ghosting down the side of your neck with a following trail of goosebumps. And yet you felt hot.
You pretended to ponder for a minute, trying your absolute best to ignore the brown eyes watching you or the fingers grazing your chest. "I think I'm okay with it," you whispered.
Carlos stopped moving his hand and gave you a dry look. "Well I'm not," he childishly retorted before bringing his lips to yours.
His lips were soft as per usual, taking you by surprise with the intensity of this kiss. You could feel his arm tighten around your waist, warmth spreading across your body as his bandaged hand gently held your face.
You were melting at his touch. His tongue was navigating your mouth, consuming your very being. You could feel his hand adjust you on his lap, letting you feel something else entirely.
Carlos' breath hitched at the feel of you hand snaking up his bare thigh, inching closer and closer to where he was aching the most. His hand shot out, covering your own through the towel he was wearing.
You parted from his lips, raising a brow with a panting chest. You could see his lust-ridden eyes, practically begging for you do to do more.
"Take it back."
You mended your brows. What on earth was he... oh.... oh.
With a firm sigh, you relented. "Fine, you won't be exterminated. I guess... it would be hard to live without you."
Carlos grinned, satisfied with your answer. "True... and we would have the hardest job of all."
"And what's that?" You asked, eagerly awaiting his response with perked ears.
Carlos' injury-free hand stretched out, moving your hair behind your ears before grazing past your cheek and landing on your lips. He smiled widely. "To repopulate the earth, hermosa."
You gasped, instinctively hitting his chest. "Carlos!"
The Spaniard dramatically winced at the action, holding his bandaged hand to his chest.
"Mierda," you cursed, "I'm so sorry, cariño." Your eyes darted around, ensuring you hadn't made anything worse.
Carlos tapped your thigh, directing your attention to him. "Can we go back to repopulating the earth now?"
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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vxnuslogy · 6 months
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— lost to time ft. sae itoshi
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— warnings: angst, character death, slight ooc?
— author's note: a reupload of my favorite work on sae while i finish editing the next 2 chapters of my hazbin series. enjoy!
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— first recording
“hi sae! i heard from rin that you’ll be leaving for spain. i’m really sorry i couldn’t come to see you off, i’ve been busy studying, you know, for exams and stuff. but that’s beside the point! i wish you all the best sae! do your best and when you come back home, you better be the world’s best striker yeah? don’t worry, everything will pass by quickly so don’t miss me too much ok?”
sae hated planes. he hated them quite a lot. in was a constant reminder of that time when he was only 14, leaving home to go to spain to live out his dreams only for it to be crushed 4 years later. sae hated the airport, it was always so busy and so stuffy and so cramped. he hated the feeling of being surrounded by unfamiliar strangers, hated the feeling of people brushing up against him even if they didn’t really mean it. sae hated winter. it was the season he severed his bond with his precious little brother after all. it was the season he turned his back on him and it was the season he had wished to never relive again.
-
— second recording
“hey hey guess who’s sending you another voice message? it’s me obviously, why didn’t you tell me you were back already?! if you did i would’ve picked you up from the airport!
……
is something the matter sae? you haven’t picked up any of your parents’ calls and their really worried about you. you can always talk to me remember? i’ll always be here to listen, ok? don’t bottle everything up, it’ll do more bad than good. well, i have to go now. talk with your parents every once in a while will you? ever since you left for spain you’ve pretty much cut off all contact, even with me. that’s all, good night sae.”
sae didn’t really like flowers. he thought they were a hassle. plants that require specific needs and if not met, they’ll wilt. sae was never fond of them but here he was, standing in front of the counter of a local flower shop as the elderly shopkeeper wrapped a bouquet – filled with carnations, gardenias, lilies, roses, and chrysanthemums. 
everything passes.
— college; third recordings
“i got into my dream college sae! can you believe that! honestly, i was really nervous when i took the entrance exams, but thankfully i studied real hard and managed to pass! i’ll be moving into the dorms soon. i’m gonna miss home. oh and rin! i heard he got into a soccer program recently, isn’t that nice! he’s following your footsteps in becoming the best striker in the world. i know, i know, you aren’t a striker anymore but it’s still nice to know that you’re still into soccer at least. by the way, when will you come back home? i kind of miss you, you know. i never got to see you off and when you did come back i was out of town and really busy. what about we plan a meetup or something in the near future? you know, make up for the times we lost? oh, i have to go now! my parents are helping me move in to my dorm. catch you later sae!”
sae didn’t really like coming home. the house he grew up in for the first 14 years of his life felt too foreign to be called home anymore. his parents felt like distant strangers that he just met a couple weeks ago – they felt more like acquaintances than his mother and father. the photos framed around his home felt like ancient relics from thousands of years ago, he didn’t recognize them. sae didn’t recognize himself. 
maybe he spent too much time in spain to the point where it felt more like home. how ironic, he began to realize. he had flown back to japan to escape from his hell that was spain but here he was, in his home, in the bedroom he used to sleep in for endless nights, wanting to go back to the place that left his heart hollow.
“there’s nothing else i could do.” he tried to convince himself as he sat down on his childhood bed, the bouquet of flowers at his side. he could only sigh and let himself fall back into the bed of his long gone home. “everything passes.”
“hey hey hey it’s me again! how have you been sae? i’d like to think that i’ve adjusted pretty well in college. made a few new friends and met some old ones. honestly, i almost didn’t recognize them! i mean, do you remember makoto from middle school. he was a such a problem child back then and now look at him! he’s a scholar now! i guess everyone just starts to become more mature after hitting 18, who knows. thank you again, for the gift. i was definitely shocked when my roommate told me i had a package from you. i can’t believe you still remember that i wanted ‘no longer human’! thank you, i’ll be sure to treasure it. well, that’s all for today. call you some other time sae!”
everything passes.
-
— drunk recordings; the words i wish i could’ve told you sooner
“how do you work this again? ah got it! hehe, hi again sae! i’m at a party right now, man maybe you were right, i do have shit alcohol tolerance. but it’s fine. don’t worry, i’m already on my way home and the driver isn’t some creepy dude that might kill me.
……
you know, i like you very much but i don’t think you’ll believe me. i know i jokingly said that we should marry each other if we aren’t dating someone if we hit our 30s, but i kinda wanna marry you even if we aren’t 30 yet. is that weird? i really miss you. please come home.”
……
“hello? god that was so embarrassing… sorry, could you just forget about what i said in the last recording? um just, gosh i don’t even know. denying it won’t really help right haha… it’s in the past now so don’t mull over too much ok? please, just disregard that last recording. i’m really sorry, it was just me being drunk.”
sae did not in fact disregard that recording. in fact, sometimes in the dead of night he’d think about it and wonder, if he had replied to that specific recording would things have ended differently? 
sae didn’t like deep and evoking questions about ‘what if’s’, he finds them annoying most of the time. and yet here he was now entertaining the idea. bouquet in hand as he casually walked around the neighborhood that the both of you had grew up in. the same twists and turns, same houses, same playground, same everything.
yet the silence was too loud, even for him.
everything passes.
-
— graduation recordings
“well, i think it’s safe to say i survived. i graduated sae, are you proud? man i still can’t believe i was a few point from getting the valedictorian spot but oh well. alls well that ends well i suppose. i heard you won your recent match congratulations mr best midfielder! kinda wish i was there to see it, but don’t worry! in your next match i’ll definitely save up enough money and buy those tickets to spain and your match one day! just you wait, i’ll be the screaming my lungs out and support you, i’m still your number one fan after all!”
sae had some feelings of dissatisfaction when you did not in fact get those tickets to spain and his match. maybe it was his wishful thinking but he really did wish you were there. but he knew it was impossible. 
he remembered the feeling of anger and frustration running through his veins, cursing the heavens above because he felt the need to show the gods his emotions. sae hated thinking about you in that moment. he hated how he felt like he was in a new version of hell whenever you just happened to cross his mind. sae hated you very much.
everything passes.
-
— recordings from 2 years ago
“i’m sorry. i know you should’ve heard it from me but i guess my family beat me to it haha. to be perfectly honest with you sae, i had no plans of telling you. i’m sorry. its just, the thought of breaking the news to you. how could i ever do that to you? i’m sorry. god i’m so sorry sae.”
……
“hey. i received the gift you sent me. you didn’t have to , you know. now i kinda feel bad about having you go on break in the middle of soccer season because of me. but still, thank you. i appreciated you being here, with me. it was a refreshing feeling, talking to you again and just hanging out. work has been really stuffy and felt like i was being caged but you came. you suddenly appeared and suddenly everything was alright again. i know we only said goodbye a couple minutes ago but, i miss you already. sorry. this sounds really weird doesn’t it? anyways, thank you again for the gift. i’ll be sure to wear it everyday. that’s all, have a good night sae.”
……
“hey. sorry for calling at such an odd time. i just. i just felt a little lonely. i sound so stupid i’m sorry. good night sae.”
……
“makoto dropped by today. god he was as annoying as ever but he really cheered me up. he managed to confess to this girl he’s pining over since sophomore year. i’m happy for him. but it really got me thinking about us. i know i told you to forget about that one recording because i was drunk but now that i look back on it, i wasn’t really honest. to you and myself. i know this may be the worst timing to confess but yeah, i like you very much. since primary school, as cliche as it may sound i think it all started when you stood up for me from those bullies. now that i think about, i practically glued myself to your side ever since that day didn’t i? i’m glad you didn’t really mind that. i remember always using homework as an excuse to always have you hang out with me even though i completely understood the lesson. man, where did i get the confidence to do that stuff? but i guess those times are lost in the sands of the past i guess. oh right, sorry, i forgot you didn’t really like those type of stuff. getting all deep and whatnot. well that’s all, i’m getting pretty tired already so i’ll head to bed. good night sae.”
everything passes.
-
— present
“hi. thank you by the way. i don’t know, i just don’t think i’ve ever said that you recently. so, thank you. its a bit funny isn’t it? i would almost always talk your ear off every recording but this time, i can’t even find the words to say. my parents came over, talked to them a bit. rin visited as well. he’s gotten a lot taller than i last saw him, he’s probably taller than you now!
……
sae, thank you. for everything. i’m glad we stayed in touch. i’m glad we stayed as friends.  thank you for making my days seem just a tad bit brighter, though sometimes i wonder what it would be like if we were, you know, dating. wonder what the difference would be. i mean we’d still talk to each other right? maybe holding hands and kisses but that’s pretty much it right? but thinking about it is useless right now. maybe in an alternate universe were actually married and adopted a cat like how we used to talk about.”
“you know, before this very moment. i accepted my fate already. i was content, i was doing fine but now. sae, i don’t want to die.”
“please remember me ok? and i’ll be sure to remember you. i’ll see you again, sae.”
“nii-chan..”
sae could only put his phone back in his pocket. his younger brother standing a good distance away from him. he could only imagine how rin looked like right now. was he pitying him, grieving with him? he’ll never know because he will never turn to look at him. not when your right in front of him.
how many times had he played all your recordings for the past 2 years? maybe a little over a 100 times? maybe close to 200 now?
sae removed all those thoughts as he placed the bouquet on the ground, the wind seemed to answer to his call – you seemed to answer to his call. despite all the pain, all the misery, all the bitter waves of grief that flooded his being whenever he played your recordings, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. he didn’t want to forget what you sounded like. your voice reminded him too much of home.
“happy birthday you idiot.” he said to you, keeping his hands in his pockets, watching the leaves of the flowers in the bouquet sway with the wind. two pieces of paper underneath it threatened to be blown away. “you said you wanted to come visit me and watch my match, well now you can.” two pieces of paper, one a plane ticket to spain the other a ticket to his upcoming match two weeks from now. “you better come watch me alright?” he could only bitterly smile. 
“you’re 30 now,” he whispered, before getting on one knee. placing a velvet box in front of your gravestone. “you should’ve waited for me, you idiot.” sae could only mutter those words to no one in particular. it was as if the world had stopped for a moment, the wind had stopped howling, the sun was nowhere to be seen. he could only see you. “i wanted to marry you too, y’know.”
sae could remember every occurrence where he would sit at his balcony in spain every night after your passing. phone to his ear, listening to all your recordings. but you’ll never know how he replies to them, every single one of them with his own. 
“i told the stars about you and what we could’ve had.” he chuckled, “you’re by far the hardest lesson i had to learn.”
standing up from his kneeling position, he gave you one last look before walking away. rin followed suit, but not before placing something at your grave. a pink book that you had loved till the very end. 
sae hated planes, but he flew back to japan every year. sae didn’t really like flowers, but every year he’d get you a pretty bouquet. sae didn’t like coming home but if it meant getting to visit you, he’d come back over and over again. sae didn’t like reading or any deep and evoking questions but he always humored you whenever you asked him.
sae hated all those things but they reminded him too much of you to let them go. 
and just like your favorite author, when osamu dazai asked to die, he simplu agreed; but just before his death, he suddenly felt obsession with life.
everything passes. just like how you’ll eventually get lost in the sands of time.
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
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rooksamoris · 3 months
Text
💞 — 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄.
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💞 — in which you teach malleus a new phrase and he grows somber about your inevitable death.
💞 — malleus draconia x reader
💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize heartache. reader does catch a cold. malleus is sad </3 mentions of death and mortality/fragility.
💞 — 1.2k words. various arab groups tell their loved ones 'taqburouni' meaning 'may you bury me' affectionately. i thought of malleus when i heard it again recently, since he very well would be stuck burying his loved ones. eid mubarak my lovelies!!
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Taq-bu-rou-ni.
Malleus’s brows knitted in a bit of interest as he replayed your word in his mind, splitting each of the syllables to pronounce it the way you did. It was a foreign word, and for someone who knew bygone languages, this was a word he had not heard. You said it with a look of affection in your eyes. It was your way of being romantic, well, with the way you drawled the final vowel, that much was obvious.
“And what does that mean?” he asked, his bright green eyes following the shape of your silhouette as you walked. Those slitted pupils of his dilated. 
“Taqburouni? Ah, it means ‘may you bury me,’” you said, innocently. The words spilled from your lips like sugared blades, so sweet yet so painful. It clung to his skin and when he tried to pull away, it tore his skin.
He paused his walking for a moment, stopping you with him. Those words reminded him that he could spend a century dwelling on that term, while you could not even spare a minute. 
Taqburouni.
That phrase you had taught Malleus planted itself into his lungs and wrapped around his esophagus. He knew you meant it affectionately. It was your way of wishing him a long life, one long enough that he would get the chance to bury you. You had known all sorts of romantic sayings that bordered on being eerie and strange. The vines you were growing wrapped around his lungs and sunk their thorns into them greedily, causing sweet blood to splatter onto his ribcage.
He knew he would get the chance to bury you. His child of man was too frail to live as long as he.
His pause caused you some worry and you squeezed his hand, pulling it closer to you so that his knuckles hovered near your chest, “It’s weird, isn’t it?” you joked, your brows furrowed in concern, “It’s an affectionate way of wishing that someone you love has a long life… I get if it’s not your thing—I just—I—”
Malleus silenced you by placing his free hand on your head. He let it slide over your hair and behind your head. His long fingers threaded their way through some of the strands as he gripped the back of your head. They were like stubborn blossoms in a valley of wilting roses, desperate to keep you close and alive, “It is lovely, a fine way of showing affection,” he told you. 
The future king decided against telling you just how uncomfortable that term made him. It infiltrated his body like a strong virus, poisoning his body and eating away at his flesh from the inside. Just like the vines that you planted in his lungs, tearing him apart beneath the layer of flesh, muscle, and bone.
A smile came to your face at his reassurance and you kissed his knuckles, “I’m glad you think so, Malleus,” you told him. 
Taqburouni. He found it anything but lovely. Malleus understood the purpose of such a term, and he knew you were just being lovelorn, but Sevens. Each vowel was like a threat, each one getting closer to him losing you. Taq—and you were cut, bu—you were sick, rou—bedridden, ni—and suddenly he was back in the Briar Valley, standing before another tombstone. To him, it was purely unromantic. 
It was violent and it was cruel.
You shivered due to the cold breeze and his gaze hardened, “Let us return you to the dorm, beastie. You’ll freeze if you’re out any longer,” he said, taking his uniform blazer off to drape over your shoulders. This body of yours was so delicate. Too delicate.
“Oh, Malleus… but you’ll get cold,”
He laughed, “I think you forget who you’re speaking to,” he said, his eyes watching your body tense up slightly. That delicious blush covered your cheeks and he was tempted to freeze time right here. Surely there was a spell for that, that way he could keep you forever and your words, your plea that he buries you, would never come true.
Bashfully, you averted your gaze and kept walking beside him. Oh, how he wanted to pounce.
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Days later, that poisonous word was still on his mind. 
It came up in particular when you caught a cold. The illness had been traveling around the school, your favorite duo from Heartslabyul had gotten it, but not nearly as bad as you. People had been coughing in class, sniffling as they walked through the halls—Malleus blamed himself for worsening it due to all the nights he dragged you away on romantic walks where he showed you the secrets of the campus.
Now he was sitting at your bedside in Ramshackle dorm. It was not nearly as dilapidated as it used to be. You had cleaned up a lot, bleaching whatever you could to kill sickness, and it still managed to sneak in. There were cracks in the windows… it probably made the nights even colder for you.
One of these beams could fall and kill you.
“Taqburouni.”
The blasted word repeated itself in his mind as he watched you squirm in your bed. Your breathing was shallow, you were sweating—he could end you with a raise of his finger, “Too fragile. Like a bird’s eggshell. All it would take is to push you out of a nest and then…” His brows furrowed as the back of his hand trailed down the side of your sickly face.
Your skin looked much less vibrant in this state.
This moment and thousands of others would pass him like a dream. One day he would bury you and then take the throne. Your bought of romance would end up being a dream. He would wake up with a crown on his head, black robes draping every inch of him, and the flickering memories you made here.
His fingers trailed down to your throat for a moment and he tapped the dainty skin with his sharp nails. Just the tiniest bit of pressure and you would bleed. Not even the strongest swords would break through his scales.
“Malleus,” you muttered, breathlessly as you tried to open your eyes. The light was too bright so all you could do was blearily squint at him before shutting your eyes again, “I feel so weak…”
“You look it too,”
“Huh?”
He stared at your face for a moment, taking in the way your eyes drifted back shut. Your brows knitted softly, and it made him want to kiss that space between your eyes, “Rest,” he whispered, his hand turning to cup your face. A bit of his magic traveled from the tips of his fingers to your skin, forcing you to inhale a green mist that would temporarily put you to sleep.
Malleus felt the urge to keep you in this state of sleep for one hundred years. Instead, he settled for leaning in and kissing your forehead, “May you bury me,” he whispered. He promised to find a way to keep you alive with him for good. He would find a way to keep everyone and everything he loved alive with him till he breathed his last flame.
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heartfullofleeches · 5 months
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OKG OMG CATMAN DILF PRACTICING HIS SIGNATURE OVER AND OVER FOR GOLDENRETRIEVER READER ASKIN FOR AN AUTOGRAPH- OMGOMG
Yan Ex-Idol Catman + Fan Golden Retriever Hybrid Reader
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He's done it a million times before. This should be easy-
"Maybe it's time for me to move again."
Moving cost outweigh the humiliation. He can always find another house near a park or school. One so close to either is hard to find around these parts, but he'll manage. The neighbors, on the other hand... It'd be hard to find anyone like that sweet mutt next door.
"Shit...." The feline scratches behind his ears - molars nawing at the plastic heart glued to the pen grasped in his fist. Torn scraps of notebook paper flutter to the carpeted floor around him as he props his arms up on the table - written signatures of differing scale and quality penned on each. If he could rewind the clock a decade or so - and used a pen with better ink, he'd have done it right the first time. All he had at he desk where the glittery pens his daughter left behind during her last visit. The kind that only seemed to work every other stroke. Had he really sunk so low to blame the inability to write his own name on a cheap pen? Why was he even doing this anyway? The day he quit, he swore he'd live his life for his fans no longer. Why go through all this effort now?
"Makariy!!!"
Fingernails claw at his front door. Makariy closes the notebook, tucking it beneath the couch cushions as he climbs up into the furniture. He pauses briefly to check his shirt for stains before speaking.
"It's open."
A gust of wind scatters more pages across the living room floor as the door is ripped out. While he may have hide the book, the physical evidence was still present. He brushes a few of the notes beneath the couch as you enter - trotting up to the coffee table where you drop a fatter stack of paper.
"I brought your mail, made you some lunch, and.... Are those?....."
Kneeling, you gather up some of the pages off the floor. The accelerating wag of your tail creates a small vacuum to which the remainder are sucked into. You snatch them up as well - bouncing on your heels from all the excitement coursing through your veins.
"Are these the signatures I asked you for?" Your voice comes out in quick exhalations - barely sparing a breath between each word. "I mean I only asked you for one, but I can have these too right?! Wait, are they for other people? I'm sorry for being greedy if they are, I just didn't think you'd actually do this for me! Thank you, thank you, thank you- Sir!
Makariy jumps up out of his seat as you bow at his feet. He pulls you off your knees, dragging you up onto the couch as he hears you digging underneath for the other scraps s he hid. "Hey, hey- What did I tell you about that Sir, shit. I'm just your neighbor, got it?
"I know, Si- Makariy. It's just not everyday you mean the lead singer for your favorite idol group. Let alone have him as your neighbor. I hope the food I brought will make up for my outburst."
You have to be conscious of it by now. Even you can't be this oblivious. If you continue to look at him with those eyes there's no way he'll be able to get out of this neighborhood anytime in the near future. There's no telling when the wonder in them will fade once you realize he's nothing like he was back then... He's not sure if his heart can take it.
"You're fine. Just stay for once instead of running off when I start eating. Why do you do that anyway?"
"Just trying to respect your privacy, Sir! Ack- I did it again, and didn't I....."
Oh well... Better to enjoy things while they last.
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girlgerard · 1 year
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i’ve been thinking a lot about gerard’s character they developed in the last leg of this tour and the way i believe it really solidified what we might have coming for us in the future.
it’s really sweet, if you look in the comments of some of the videos from brisbane and osaka, you can see people who’ve obviously been my chem fans for at least 15 years saying things like ‘i’ve watched every video from this tour and this is the first show where i really saw the spark come back’ and ‘that’s the gerard way i remember’ and other cheesy shit like that. and the thing is they’re totally right!
this whole tour developed more fluidly in intensity and meaning than in any of their previous gigs. mcr has always been a band to change with their time and creative drive, but this was a different type of transition to me. you could see as characters started to be built, from gerard DIY’ing his own costumes in europe to increasingly meaningful outfits with whole backstories in the USA all the way to one consistent character with a uniquely terrifying stage presence in the last leg.
that last character, at least to me, is totally gripping. she’s unexplained, she’s scary as hell, she’s near-undead, she has this commanding presence gerard hasn’t really done since early-mid black parade. in every single performance they’re so in-character and it’s such a BLAST
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importantly, this character also showed up in the shortest, least-publicized part of the tour. imo she wasn’t meant for cameras, really.
to me it’s so clear that she’s a result of gerard earnestly solidifying where they might want their next artistic endeavors to go - that kind of serious direction, maybe even that character specifically.
he’s talked about how he always has stage characters that reflect his music and, broadly, things they’re working through in their life. the revenge stage character was a mix of both demo lovers which can have a ton of different interpretations, the patient was a joan-esque personification of grief and existentialism, party poison was a pop-art way of dealing with your own artistic/literal death. it makes me wonder why this character, the only truly consistent character this whole tour, came about, and if it’s related to gerard’s nightly diatribes on war and later-tour statements on (presumably) queer/trans rights.
it also makes me think that we have a lot coming in the future. a character that solid and a direction so suddenly bottlenecked into such a specific concept, such a mychemicalromance concept, especially out of a tour that was originally supposed to be a casual celebration of music, i think points towards something new.
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