#*proceeds to post exactly one day after the old posting schedule

[ahatintimepieces]

Fabric Hearts

Remember the first part of that build-a-bear au I wrote for @smieska-draws? It’s back! But now the au name makes sense! Imagine!

Luka, known as the Snatcher to most of the mall locals, runs the Kraft-a-Kid while his daughter, Hattie, runs around with her friends. There’s definitely nothing suspicious about Luka. The rumors that he snatches the souls of children and stuffs them into the dolls are completely unfounded. Probably. Most likely. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.

This is, of course, another au that Smieska and I both developed and like to swap ideas for SO send her your love and adulation because I couldn’t have written this without her ;o; <333 Here’s the link to the piece she did for first part if you haven’t seen it yet (which u should because it’s fabulous and incredible). Without further ado, here it is!

Words: 4,131

The door squeaked open as Luka recorded the number of tiny, elastic collars with bright bells in the back.

“Dimitri can’t make it today,” he warned without looking up from his clipboard. His golden gaze flickered up towards the boxes filled with cotton stuffing and he quickly counted them as footsteps approached. “If you get a sudden influx of customers, come grab me.”

“It’s me, Dad,” Hattie’s voice came from right beside him.

“Did I stutter?” He glanced down without missing a beat. She gave him a deadpan stare as he grinned. His sharp canines glinted in the unnaturally bright florescent lights. “Come on, kiddo. How about you help me with my business endeavors instead of frittering away your summer romping around the mall?”

She readjusted the brim of the top hat she made from her millinery lessons at the fabric store. Why his child fixated on hat-making out of everything she could have taken an interest in was beyond him but even he had to admit her royal purple top hat was well crafted.

“I’m going with Belle and the others to get lunch at the food court,” she said, ignoring his jesting. “Can I have money?”

“You know if you had a job you wouldn’t need to be asking me,” he lamented dramatically before wedging the clipboard between his arm and side. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his slacks.

“I’m not even twelve.” She blinked up at him with large blue eyes. “There are child labor laws.”

“Excellent.” He nodded, opening his wallet. “Don’t let anyone in the mall convince you otherwise. But,” he slipped out a bill and gave her a pointed look, “if you accept this, you have to do me a favor.”

“I already cleaned the bathrooms last weekend,” she whined.

His grin widened.

“Tough luck, kiddo.” He twisted the bill in the air, watching her nose scrunch as she seriously weighed her options. After a second of letting her think that she was going to have to do her least favorite chore, he extended the bill towards her. “Just bring me back a coffee and I’ll consider us even.”

Relief instantly flooded her features as she took the bill.

“I can do that! Your usual?” She headed towards the door.

“That’ll work,” he said, tucking away his wallet and grabbing the clipboard again.

“Thanks, Dad!” she chirped before moving to open the door.

Just as she reached for it, the door swung open, and she stumbled back. Luka immediately dropped the clipboard and slipped behind her with the speed of shadows dodging the light. She smacked into his legs, and he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as Alex walked in with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid! I didn’t see you there.” Alex winced, looking from Hattie to Luka’s hard glare.

“I’m fine!” Hattie promised, giving a bright smile until she placed her hand over Luka’s fingers. She jolted and twisted around. “Dad, are you okay? You’re really warm.”

“It is hot in here.” Alex tugged at their collar, wincing.

“The thermostat dial was probably nudged,” Luka dismissed, pulling away and stooping to grab the clipboard. “I’ll take a look.”

“Should I get you water?” Hattie asked.

“I have water. Now go have fun.” He shooed her towards the door. “The sooner you leave the sooner you can run my errand.”

Hattie hesitated but when he returned to his task of recording inventory, he heard her retreating footsteps.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered as they crossed over to the table for the employees. They dropped their backpack before grabbing the light purple apron with their nametag.

“Let’s just be careful with how forcefully we open doors, hm? I don’t want to deal with any workplace liability cases. They’re a pain.” Luka shot the teen a toothy grin. Glancing back down to the clipboard, he added in a more monotone cadence, “Anyway, Dimitri can’t come today, so once Ember leaves, it’ll just be you and me for the rest of the day. If it gets too crowded on the floor and I’m not around, come find me.”

“Right.” They nodded firmly. While wiping back their bangs and smearing the beads of sweat on their brow, they hurried out. Once the door closed behind them and Luka was alone, he let out a sigh.

The flame that had flared when Hattie nearly got hit crackled noisily in his otherwise empty chest. Luka placed one of his pale hands over the flame and counted out the seconds between metered inhales and exhales. The snap and pop of embers faded and when he glanced towards the thermostat, the temperature in the room lowered back to a comfortable range.

Not that he was bothered by the heat, but he didn’t need his employees passing out.

Ember’s shift ended as he got to counting the unstuffed plush shells. As she hung her apron over the hook, she informed him that two separate groups had just entered the store. Luka nodded, finishing his current count before getting ready to help Alex on the floor.

He brushed back his long, spiky hair into a ponytail. Stray strands the color of soot fluttered against his cheek, and he tucked them behind his ear.

They reflected a warm violet when they caught the light.

With his hair as contained as he could manage, he grabbed his own amethyst apron with the Kraft-a-Kid’s signature logo; a stylized baby goat and parent goat waving a friendly greeting. After draping it over his black suit and making sure it didn’t displace his dark purple tie, he tied the apron with nimble fingers, clawed at the tips. He double-checked that the pocket had extra thread and a compact sewing kit before he clipped on his name tag and headed out into the workshop.

Alex snapped their head up from one of the stuffing stations, looking relieved when they spotted Luka rounding the counter. Alex returned their full attention to the small girl and her mother while Luka smiled at the two teens with a younger child hovering by the bins of unstuffed shells by the entrance.

While he didn’t know them personally, he recognized Brooke and her younger sister Hali, who worked (or in Hali’s case just hovered around in the back when not at daycare) at their uncle’s travel agency, and then Makoto, who worked at the jewelry store. Judging from their uniforms, the teens were probably using their breaks to accompany Hali. Since he often heard good things about their work ethic and Hali’s sweet nature from Mari, he assumed he had an easy session ahead. He waved them over.

Brooke and Makoto shared a nervous look while Hali bounded over with a bright smile.

“Why, hello there!” Luka pasted on his most vibrant customer service smile as he lowered onto the seat by the stuffing station. Cotton and soft fibers filled the glass tank decorated to look like hearty trees and branches climbed around the edges. The machine itself matched the lilac walls and brown and bronze gears that decorated them. The bins and shelves that held the merchandise throughout the store were all structured to look like spools of golden thread.

Holding an unstuffed goat with dark brown fuzz and silver horns, Hali shyly smiled up at Luka as Brooke and Makoto slowly joined.

“I see you’ve picked your new friend!” Luka held out his hands and Hali gingerly lowered the flat goat into his palms. “Before we bring them to life, how stuffed do you want them to be?”

“Um?” Hali tilted her head with a blank expression.

“Do you want them to be firm or squishy?” Luka clarified, fitting the goat around the nozzle and getting his foot ready over the pedal.

“Fiwm, pwease!” Hali declared in a cutesy voice.

“Excellent choice!” Luka set to work, pumping the pedal as he filled out the head of the goat plush. The machine roared to life, blowing air and fluff with the force of a vacuum. Though, his ears perked when he caught Brooke and Makoto in an intense discussion as they remained a couple steps back. What he couldn’t hear over the machine, he pieced together easily enough.

He knew the rumors and could guess what was on their mind when they mentioned the Snatcher and stolen souls.

Luka smirked as he pulled his foot from the pedal and the machine hushed.

“Now it’s time for my favorite part.” He beamed, pulling off the firmly stuffed goat and then reaching for a bucket full of small felt hearts. “The soul ceremony! Go ahead and pick the heart that most resonates with you.”

“If it’s just a heart, why is it called a soul ceremony?” Brooke asked, her voice quivering as she pressed closer to Makoto.

Hali, meanwhile, was completely enraptured with picking out the right fabric heart.

“Hearts, souls, same thing, really,” Luka soothed with a toothy grin, giving the teens a considering look.

Makoto’s gaze flickered down to his fangs. She lifted her chin, trying to project an air of confidence. But her furrowed brows wavered.

“Souws awe heawts?” Hali gasped, looking up with awe.

“Absolutely!” Luka kept his voice cheerful, gesturing to the bucket. “It’s what gives your new friend life! I imagine without one, they would feel pretty empty and hollow.” Keeping his chin tilted down, he lifted his eyes towards the teens and lowered his voice just a touch. “Wouldn’t you feel pretty soulless without a heart?”

The two stiffened.

“Pwobabwy!” Hali chirped, completely unaware of their increasing unease. She dug around the hearts and pursed her lips. “How do woo know which heawt is the best?”

“That’s up to you!” Luka bounced effortlessly back into an upbeat cadence. He pinched a heart with a checkerboard pattern in red and white. “The nice thing about these hearts is that they’re blank slates. They’ll be filled with whatever you put into them. But don’t put in too much!” he added with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want your new friend to be more you than you!”

Brooke squeaked in fright and his grin stretched.

“I wiwl take this one, then!” Hali held up a solid red heart.

“Great! Hold on to it, now.” Luka placed the tub back down. “First, why don’t you rub the heart on your hair so your little buddy will always have soft fur!”

Hali beamed at that and rubbed the fabric heart on her hair. When she pulled it back down, some of the blond strands followed the heart while the strands too far away stuck up from the lingering static.

“Well done! Now, rub it against your funny bone so your friend has a sense of humor.” Luka tapped his elbow when Hali crinkled her nose for a moment. Her eyes lit up in understanding and once the heart was granted good humor, Luka added, “and why don’t you strike a superhero pose, so that your pal will hold courage.”

Hali giggled as she placed her hands on her hips and preened.

“Fantastic. Lastly, I want you to rub the heart between your palms!” Luka motioned for her to mimic him as he demonstrated. “Now, when it’s nice and warm, give it a clap to start its heartbeat!”

The clap resounded through the workshop and the teens jolted behind her.

“That should do it,” Luka praised, holding out his palm. Hali handed the heart over, and he slipped it into the goat, tucking it snuggly away in the cotton and fluff.

He then set to filling out the rest of the plush. Once it was stiff and sturdy, he handed it to her, asking if she was content with it. When he received an enthusiastic nod, he took it back and sealed the hole. He snipped the extra thread with the scissors in his apron and then passed the goat back to Hali.

“Here’s your new friend! Be sure to visit our shop in the back! We have plenty of accessories and outfits for the newest member of your family,” Luka recited the same sales pitch as always. “Once you’re ready, head over to an open kiosk so you can fill out the adoption papers. If you need any help, Alex or I will be overjoyed to assist.”

“Thank woo!” Hali hurried over to the accessories, hugging the goat to her chest.

Luka clasped his hands and turned to the teens. When his gaze flickered to the floppy hooded doll in Makoto’s arms, her embrace tightened.

“Ready?” He motioned for her to hand it over so that he could stuff it.

She looked to Brooke, who shrugged with uncertainty. Makoto stepped forward.  

Keeping his tone light, he went through the same script as always. He asked if she wanted the doll to be firm or squishy and, in an effort to loosen her up a bit, offered to add any fun sound boxes or scents to the plush. She remained on edge until he asked about the nametag on her uniform as the machine roared to life again. She explained how her boss liked to give everyone themed nicknames and she was saddled with “Makoneko.” When he asked if she appreciated the nickname, she pointedly rolled her eyes as he removed his foot from the machine pedal again. Her shoulders relaxed when he chuckled.

“Your turn to pick a heart,” Luka twittered in an overly cheerful voice as he held out the bucket.

“Do I have to do the ceremony?” Makoto hesitated, plucking the first heart she saw. Rather than scared, her bored expression mirrored that of many teens who wanted to skip the step.

Perfect.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He shrugged casually. “What is a heart without a heartbeat? A soul without a person behind the personality?”

“What?” She faltered, shoulders slowly stiffening again as Brooke’s eyes widened.

“I only mean it’ll be a sorry existence for this little friend.” Luka waved the stubby hands of the purple plush toy. “And you get out what you put in.” Her brows dipped in slight confusion, and he smirked. “You have to at least start its heartbeat. You don’t want to bring a ghost home, do you?”  

“Just do the ceremony!” Brooke hissed through clenched teeth.

“F-fine,” Makoto said, slowly lifting the heart to her long black locks. “So, hair for soft fur?”

“Does it look like this one has fur?” Luka gestured to the doll with the yellow spiral in its hood. He scoffed, turning up his nose. “Of course not! No. First, why don’t you rub the heart against your belly so that it’s full of laughter.”

“I thought that was the elbow.” Makoto crinkled her nose. Though she rubbed the heart against her stomach, eager to get it over with.

“There is a difference between telling good jokes and laughing at them, kiddo,” Luka offered with a smirk. “Now, how about you jump up and down a few times? I’m sure your friend would love to share some of your energy.”

“What does that mean?” She jolted.

“Just that exercise keeps the heart healthy,” Luka said placidly.

Her eyes narrowed but she eventually gave a sluggish skip.  

“Then, rub it against your ear, so it will always listen.” He smiled brightly, being sure to bare his teeth. Once she complied, he clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you know what to do now! Warm it between your palms and then clap to start the heartbeat!”

She let out the breath that she had been holding, relieved it was finally over. She gave a small clap before passing the heart back. He slipped it into the doll.

“Any names in mind for your friend?” Luka prompted as his foot tapped the pedal.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled curtly, purposefully trying to let the whirling air in the stuffing machine drown out her answer.

“How’s this feel?” he asked a few seconds later when the machine hushed again. He pulled the doll from the nozzle and passed it back to her.

“Good.” She returned it after assessing the squishiness.

“If you haven’t got any names, I always thought these particular dolls looked like minions,” he prattled, closing the seam. When she didn’t respond, he continued lightly, “so Minion might be a good name.” He glanced up to meet her gaze and lowered his tone. “You did make sure it’ll listen. It’ll be an obedient little kiddo.”

Her breath hitched.

“Obedient to who?” she challenged, maintaining a fragile glare.

“All done!” Luka snapped upright after snipping the excess thread, pretending he hadn’t heard her question. “Welcome your friend into the world!”

Makoto accepted the doll, her gaze flickering between it and Luka with uncertainty.

“Same as always,” he droned in his peppy, customer service voice. “Browse to your contentment. My daughter recommends the plush purple cherries. You want to keep your buddy happy and fed! Make sure to finalize the adoption and meet Alex or I by the counter.” He glanced over to find the other young girl with her mother already at the cash register. “Looks like it’ll be Alex!”

Makoto nodded numbly as Brooke stepped forward and looped her arm through hers, rescuing Makoto by tugging her away.

“One more thing,” Luka began, keeping his eyes on his clean-up routine. The teens’ footsteps paused as they hovered. Though his smile laced his voice, his enunciation was sharp. “I’m sure the Snatcher doesn’t have to tell you but be sure to treat your new friend as you would yourself. You put your soul into bringing them to life, after all.”

The teens gasped.

“Have a good day, kids.” Laughter laced his voice.

They rushed away as he chuckled.

While he finished cleaning up, Hattie returned with her friends. As soon as she spotted him behind the stuffing machine, she rushed across the tiles decorated to look vaguely like a forest path.

“Here’s your coffee,” she chirped, holding up the cup.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, pushing to his feet and picking stray fluff from his apron. Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he accepted the drink. He held it towards his lips, pausing to quirk a brow at young Muriel and Timmy as they passed the stuffing machines to check out all the colorful outfits. Belle, meanwhile, joined Hattie with her azure bow bouncing in her dark coils.

“We’re going to head to the bookstore.” Hattie shrugged. “Tim’s friend is hosting a card game tournament.”

“Remember to be back by six,” he instructed. “Don’t go snacking after four or you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“I know, Dad,” she huffed dramatically.

“Also, Mom says hi, Mr. Kingsley,” Belle pipped in.

“Tell Mari I return the sentiment. Now get your friends to stop loitering.” He turned back towards Hattie and rose his voice so Timmy and Mu could hear. “They scare away customers.”

“Says the Snatcher,” Timmy whispered to Mu.

Luka covered his smirk with the coffee cup. His gaze shifted over Hattie and Belle and he watched as Makoto and Brooke fled the store at a brisk pace. Hali struggled to keep up, but she managed to meet his eyes and offered a cheerful wave.

“Fine,” Hattie sighed. “Come on, guys!”

“I need to stop by Mom’s before we head to the bookstore,” Belle mentioned as she and Hattie turned to leave. “I left my cards with my backpack.”

As the girls left, Luka turned to head back towards the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. He immediately winced.

“Ugh, tepid,” he grumbled as Timmy and Mu ran past, hurrying out to follow Hattie and Belle.

After making sure the kids all had their backs turned and Alex was busy with something on the counter, Luka summoned a gentle ember to his hand. While the flame harmlessly licked the cup, the coffee warmed inside until steam wafted from the hole in the lid. He took a tentative sip and swallowed the scalding liquid.

The flames in his chest crackled and popped, and the knots in his shoulders eased.

He snuffed out the ember in his hand as he lowered the cup. Mist trailed from the lid as the coffee maintained its heat.

“I think you scarred those two for life,” Alex muttered as Luka returned to the counter.

“Which two?” he asked, mind still on Hattie and her friends.

“Brooke and Makoto.” Alex glanced up, shaking their head with a scolding expression.

“I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary,” Luka said calmly. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee during his momentary break. “If those hooligans are letting their imaginations run wild, it’s not on my conscience.”

“Uh-huh.” Alex gave him an unimpressed look. “Also, I think we’re running low on the beach ball accessories.”

“I noticed,” Luka muttered, swirling his cup pensively. “Those aren’t particularly popular, and we are getting near the end of the season…”

While they discussed whether they needed to send out an order or if they would make it until the fall selection came out, Hattie rolled on the balls of her feet as she, Timmy, and Mu waited for Belle to return from her mom’s flower shop just across from Kraft-a-Kid. Hattie idly watched all the mallgoers, thoughts blank, but Timmy and Mu had their eyes locked on Kraft-a-Kid, thoughts whirling noisier than the stuffing machines.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Belle announced as she bounced out with her deck of cards.

“Hattie.” Timmy whirled around. “Your dad’s magic!”

“Timmy, he doesn’t steal souls, we’ve been over this,” Hattie whined, crossing her arms.

“If he doesn’t steal souls, then what’s with his coffee?” Mu snapped, nodding her head towards the display window where Luka could be seen leaning against the counter inside the workshop.

Hattie squinted, trying to figure out what was out of place with the steaming coffee cup. After a moment, she turned to Belle, who shrugged.

“It’s hot!” Mu gestured wildly, causing her blond mustache to bob with her movement. “Look at that steam!”

Hattie blinked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Belle supplied dryly. “Because Hattie ordered it hot.”

“But he said it was tepid!” Timmy argued. “We heard him!”

“He probably thinks it is,” Hattie said, knitting her brows together. “He likes his coffee hot enough to burn his tastebuds.”

“You aren’t getting it!” Mu huffed. “It wasn’t steaming when he said it was cold!”

“Okay, but even if he somehow heated it up, that didn’t have anything to do with stealing souls,” Belle appeased.

“That’s what we mean!” Timmy urged. “If he can use one type of magic, he can use others!”

“I regret the day I told you about those rumors,” Hattie grumbled.

It didn’t matter as much when strangers said it, but instead of laughing with Hattie when she told them that people thought her dad was some kind of heartless, soul-snatching monster, Mu and Timmy had latched onto the conspiracy and ever since refused to let go. She couldn’t talk about new product plushies or designs around them anymore because they would just start a debate about which shell would best hold the souls of children.

“Look can we just get going?” She started walking in the direction of the bookstore and Belle matched her pace. Mu hurried to catch up as Timmy trailed behind, keeping a watchful eye on Kraft-a-Kid.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen anything weird?” Mu insisted. “Heard any screams of children he caught? Seen any dolls move in the corner of your eye?”

“You know he laughs like a cartoon villain?” Timmy added.

“The store is literally called Kraft-a-Kid!” Mu continued. “Open your eyes, Hattie!”

“Kid is just another word for baby goat!” Belle argued. “It’s cute!”

“We aren’t talking about this anymore!” Hattie snapped, tugging down on the brim of her hat. She turned away from them and focused on Belle. “So, what deck are you using? The one with fairy types? Or your cat themed one?”

“Both!” She grinned mischievously as she happily helped to redirect the conversation. “I combined them because I wanted to use all my favorites. How about you?”

“Going with the forest deck.” Hattie glanced up, where her deck was safely tucked away in the hidden compartment she stitched into the top hat.

Timmy and Mu huffed, letting their argument go as they pipped in with talking about their own decks. But it was only a matter of time before they started back on their theories about her dad’s supposed magic. Trying not to deflate too much, she kept her eyes forward. She swallowed her frustration and focused on the upcoming tournament.

Besides, even if her dad did have magic and only used it for heating up coffee, it hardly seemed something a heartless monster would do.

Right?

[freedomseeker91]

Welcome To The World Avery Jane Mitchell....

Chapter: One-Shot In The More Than Good Enough Universe

Title: Welcome To The World Avery Jane Mitchell

Summary: Beca and Chloe officially name their daughter as they introduce her to the world.

Rating: F for Fluff

Warnings: None.

Making her way down the corridor to her wife’s hospital room, there was a lightness in Chloe’s step that carried her to her desired location as if she were floating on air. Her daughter was a little over 12 hours old and Beca had spent most of that time in a heavily induced sleep, waking up briefly on two occasions to nurse before drifting off again.

Chloe had spent several relatively comfortable hours on the pull-out sofa bed, but found herself too hyped up on adrenaline to sleep soundly so she alternated between catching a couple of hours here and there and sitting next to her wife’s bedside, keeping an eye on both her wife and daughter.

By the time morning had rolled around, she could feel the muscles in her back aching and decided that a walk would do her good. She had ambled just far enough to find a café that served breakfast and picked up something for Beca and herself to eat, knowing the other woman hadn’t consumed much in the last 24 hours between labour and surgery.

The hospital food was fine but Chloe wanted to make sure her wife had something more nutritious and satisfying to wake up to. Beca was a notoriously bad eater when stressed or sick and Chloe knew post-surgery, that her wife wouldn’t have much of an appetite, but she hoped to entice her with some of her favourite breakfast treats.

After the ordeal she had been through, the least she could do for Beca was make sure she was well fed. The next several weeks would be mainly reserved for rest and relaxation and Chloe was determined to make things as easy as possible for Beca until she was healed enough to get back to her regular routine.

Both Chloe’s parents and Beca’s father and step mother would be in town for a couple of weeks and had already offered up their services to help ease the load and Chloe was grateful, because she wanted to spend as much time with her new little family as possible without distraction. Having extra hands around to help with some household chores until they were settled into a routine would really give them that extra bit of time to just be present with their daughter.

With Beca on strict doctors’ orders not to push herself too hard for the first couple of weeks, she would be relying a lot on Chloe to pick up the slack with any heavy lifting. Even holding her baby for the first couple of days came with its own list of rules and regulations. She wasn’t to lift a car seat, no bending down, no standing for long periods of time if she was holding the baby, no climbing in and out of bed several times to feed, and where possible, for the first couple of days, she needed to sleep in a reclined position as opposed to flat on her back.

Beca had to pace herself and build herself back up again. Aside from the obvious hardship her body had been through with the emergency c-section, her body was also acclimating to the blood transfusion she had received. She would be groggy and fatigued for some time and until that had passed, she was to proceed with care.

And care is exactly what Chloe would provide. TLC on high dosage was her speciality, her baby and baby momma would be well looked after. The vet had worked out a schedule with work that would allow her to be home for a couple of weeks, retuning for several to carry out any backdated surgeries, bring on some new hires and catch up on paperwork, before taking a career break for a year.

Having worked her way up to a partnering stakeholder in the practice, it was the perfect time to finally take a break. She had worked hard to get to that point and the birth of her daughter was the perfect excuse to finally step back for a bit and focus on herself.

After spending several years in what felt like an uphill struggle, Chloe was looking forward to being able to hit cruise control on life again. Being in a financial position to be able to take that much time off work was also a blessing Chloe wasn’t taking for granted, but she knew both herself and her wife had worked hard to be able to achieve this luxury.

As she stepped inside the hospital room, she smiled when she noticed that Beca was awake and staring at their sleeping daughter in the bassinet the far side of the bed. When the brunette heard footsteps behind her she turned her head and grinned at her wife. Even though she was exhausted she still looked beautiful to Chloe, more beautiful than ever.

Chloe approached the bed and leaned down, planting a kiss on her wife’s waiting lips before raising both her arm to show off the takeout bag coffee tray in her hands.

“I brought breakfast. Pancakes, crispy bacon, and scrambled eggs and mashed avocado on toast,” Chloe grinned. Beca gazed up at her with a raised brow.

“Maple syrup?” she asked and Chloe winked at her.

“Of course. Only the best for my baby momma.”

As Chloe set the items down on the wheeled table at the foot of the bed, Beca used the remote by the bed to adjust herself into a more suitable position for consuming food. When the bed was in a more upright position, Beca began adjusting some pillows and hissed at the throbbing pain in her lower abdomen. Chloe looked at her with furrowed brows, hand coming to rest on her wife’s sheet covered leg.

“You okay?” she asked, watching Beca for any further sign of pain or discomfort.

Beca breathed through the uncomfortable wave.

“Yeah, I’m good. I might need another dose of this bad boy,” Beca said holding up the button that administered pain relief, “but I’ll be good until after I eat.”

Chloe nodded but kept watch on Beca until she was settled again and more comfortable. When she felt that her wife was indeed more settled, she removed her coat and handbag and deposited them on the sofa before moving the table with their food up towards Beca and taking a seat on the bed the opposite side of it so they were facing one another over breakfast.

Chloe removed all the items and scattered them around the table. They had a habit when eating take out of just picking from one another’s chosen meals and sharing. When Chloe opened the container of crispy bacon, Beca’s mouth literally watered. It was only just hitting her how long it had been since she’d last eaten.

She removed the lid of the takeaway coffee cup, a heavily frothed latte with chocolate sprinkled on top. Chloe had taken to getting the sprinkles added to compensate for the lack of actual caffeine. At first Beca had though it was a ridiculous notion but she had actually grown fond of it over time. They munched away on their breakfast making idle chit chat and taking moments to just fondly observe their new little girl.

“So, are we still good with Avery as a name?” Beca asked, resting back against the pillows as Chloe moved the table out of their way now that they were finished with their meal. The redhead then perched herself down next to her wife, swinging her legs up on the bed and throwing her arm around the pillow Beca’s head was resting on.

When browsing through books of baby names they had both loved the name Avery as they felt it was a nice solid name. Not too flashy or out there but still unique in its own way. The fact that it also meant noble and wise was something they also appreciated.

They knew when picking a name that they wanted something gender neutral, something that people couldn’t attached preconceived notions to merely by reading a name on a piece of paper. They wanted their daughter to have every opportunity in life to excel free from the constraints of labels. Avery just seemed perfect. There had been one or two other names thrown in the mix but after seeing their daughter for the first time, they knew Avery was the right fit.

“I think it’s perfect,” Chloe said, gazing lovingly between her wife and daughter as Beca sighed.

“Now all we gotta do is come up with a middle name,” Beca said, her mind already exhausted before it had even committed go the challenge.

Chloe reached down and grabbed a  hold of her wife’s hand, the other one wrapped around Beca’s pillow now soothingly combing through brown locks of hair.

“I think I know what her middle name should be,” Chloe said, and Beca mumbled a quiet ‘oh yeah’ back at her and Chloe nodded.

“I was thinking we should call her Jane, after her grandma.”

The room went silent as Beca processed what her wife was saying, her teary eyes roaming over towards her daughter sleeping in her bassinet before glancing up at Chloe.

“Yeah?” Beca asked, as if she thought Chloe’s suggestion was merely a fickle thought and not a sound suggestion. Chloe merely squeezed her hand as a loving smile crossed her lips.

“Yeah, I do. And if we call her Avery Jane, we could call her AJ for short, keeping the whole gender-neutral vibe going. It’ll be totes awes when she’s in high school. Plus, she’ll get to have her angel grandma with her.”

As Beca became overwhelmed by her tears she started nodding her head, using her free hand to wipe at her cheeks as she squeezed Chloe’s hand back for comfort.

“Avery Jane, it’s perfect,” Beca managed to croak out around the lump in her throat and Chloe shot her a beaming smile as they realised their daughter had officially been named.

“A perfect name for a perfect little girl,” Chloe replied, leaning her head down to rest atop Beca’s.

Suddenly she stood up from the bed and moved to the bassinet, having noticed that her new-born daughter was starting to rouse. Reaching into the bassinet, Chloe carefully lifted her swaddled daughter into her arms and made her way back to the bed, taking up her original position so that Beca had the perfect view.

The brunette reached up a hand and stroked her daughters’ soft tufts of brown hair and gazed adoringly down at the tiny human she had only recently delivered.

“What do you think sweetie? Are you an AJ?” Beca asked, her voice soft as silk as she spoke.

The little girl let out a little hum of contentment as she kicked back in Chloe’s arms, settling in for a long snuggle and both new moms chuckled, the redhead turning to face her wife.

“I think that’s a yes from AJ,” Chloe replied before leaning down as pressing a kiss to her daughters forehead, giggling as AJ’s tiny little mouth swooped sideways briefly in a half grin just like her wife’s before falling into a relaxed slumber.

An hour later, Beca’s hospital room was filled with grandparents and their friends who lived in the city while other family members and friends linked in on facetime as they were all introduced to the newest addition to their world.

Chloe was sat perched on the edge of Beca’s bed, the brunette propped up by pillows with AJ nestled on her feeding cushion between them facing everyone. Chloe carefully slotted her pointer finger into her daughters’ hand, and guided it up and down in a little wave.

“Everybody, this is our daughter, Avery Jane Mitchell. Everyone, this is AJ,” Chloe beamed, Beca smiling as her wife made the introduction.

As the room fell into a chorus of coos and expressions of joy for the couple, Beca and Chloe shared a tender kiss as they revelled in the outpouring of love for the new little girl. Avery Jane Mitchell was well and truly welcome addition to their crazy little world.

[maddogofshimano]

The Death of a Pawn: Ibuchi Boss Rush

Major K2 Majima Saga Spoilers

Oh uh hmm I’ve had this one translated for a little shy of a year and just.......... forgot to ever post it! Whoops! The Daigo scratcher event came out right afterwards so I think I just got distracted lol. 

There isn’t too much exciting in this one since it largely re-treads what we saw in game, but there’s some new details and also Majima’s there, so......... 

Summary:

Set during the Majima Saga of K2, Ibuchi has made his move and put his pawns into the perfect position--unfortunately for him, Majima isn’t one to play by the rules.

The fifth chairman on the Tojo Clan, Terada, pushed forward with reforms, causing a rift to form in the clan between the old guard and the reformists. Tensions continued to escalate, culminating in a death at the heads of the vanguard of the reformists, Ibuchi. The day after Ibuchi murdered Uematsu, a fellow reformist, he set off for Sotenbori Osaka alone...

Takashima: We hadn't planned to eliminate Uematsu so soon. You're acting recklessly.

Ibuchi: Uematsu's value had all but vanished. The timing was right. Ibuchi: Rather, this is a good opportunity. We can proceed to the next stage of our plan. Takashima: Our plan to embroil the Omi and Tojo in all out war... Do you seriously think now's the time for that? Ibuchi: The situation has evolved. If we stick to the schedule exactly we'll miss this opportunity.

Takashima agrees, but cations that if they're to pull this off they can't have any mistakes. Ibuchi is confident that his pawn will behave exactly as needed to set a fire in the tojo clan. Takashima says he considers the Takashima family to be his private army. Apparently it was Takashima that introduced Ibuchi to the yakuza world, he was formerly in a small consulting company, and told him that if he wanted to win he'd need to be able to own the pawns. Ibuchi took it to heart and gathered pawns--everyone has a price. It let him jump up ranks in the Tojo Clan quickly.

Takashima realizes that the man who killed Uematsu was one of Ibuchi's pawns. Ibuchi considers him important and believes he'll be the one to set off the powderkeg the two of them have been building. Takashima says that Ibuchi seems confident and believes there's nothing to worry about. One more thing, before he goes, he almost forgot to mention........ Majima has just entered sotenbori

"Eh?"

Takashima says that, as Ibuchi certainly knows, Majima is the kind of man that no one can read. He hopes Ibuchi won't get tripped up by him. Ibuchi pauses for a moment and says to leave it to him. Someone like Majima won't be able to outwit him. Takashima has people watching Majima and reporting back so that Ibuchi should be able to move around safely. Takashima leaves and Ibuchi laughs a little and says that it seems like this time Majima will be in the limelight.

1 hour later

"I’m Kawamura, of the Tojo Clan’s Majima Family! If you understand that, you all better clear out!” (Tl note: Kawamura never got a card, so he just gets this generic goon sprite lol)

Kawamura does his thing just like in the Majima Saga, offing the dude while shouting that he's from the Majima family. Then he has a little freak out, which Ibuchi can't have given he still has a job for Kawamura to do. Kawamura begs to let this be done, he can't bear to kill someone else, especially not his patriarch. Ibuchi says that in that case, it's fine if this ends here. Kawamura is relieved. Ibuchi explains that yeah, it's fine if he won't kill Majima. Ibuchi will just kill Kawamura instead--he's just a pawn to be discarded once he's outlived his usefulness

Kawamura is shocked. Ibuchi asks what he's going to do about it. After all, he's holding a gun, he could just kill Ibuchi right here and now. Though, it'd be as good as offing himself given that Ibuchi is a member of the Tojo Clan. Majima's on his way, he better make up his mind. Kawamura says he understands......... he'll do it. Ibuchi promises to forgive his debt once he does. Ibuchi then thinks to himself that it's a shame how Kawamura is useless to him. After all, taking down Majima is his job, not Kawamura's. Speak of the devil!

Majima has arrived

“Kawamura......!”

Ibuchi: (Today's leading role has entered the stage. I wonder, am I prepared for this? <gun clicks> Obviously I am, I made the correct choice of bringing a gun. This will definitely be the end your life, Majima!) <boss rush time>

"Guh!"

"If ya think ya can just use yakuza like pawns..... that ya can just discard 'em when you're done.... that makes you the biggest idiot around. You'll have plenty of time to think on that eatin' shitty food from the inside of a jail cell." (TL note: that's all stuff Majima says in game but I am not bothering to look up the exact localized version)

Ibuchi: (Damn it....! How could I have fallen behind a half-wit like him....!?) Ibuchi: (Plus, Takashima-san was supposed to be monitoring Majima's every move! How come no one came to assist me!) <flashback to Takashima saying he was> Ibuchi: (Takashima-san must have understood the circumstances...) Ibuchi: (That would mean the only reason he wouldn't send aid is... because he judged that he didn't need to assist me...?) Ibuchi: (Th-That must be it!) <flashback to Takashima saying "A pawn, huh?"> Ibuchi: (It must be, I was just a pawn to Takashima-san...? He's been using me the whole time... as a mere pawn.....) Ibuchi: (Haha... What a joke, huh... To only notice it now...) Ibuchi: (....It's fine, that means I can move on to my next action with peace of mind) Ibuchi: Such a shame, Majima... Everything is already in motion... Ibuchi: The east and the west are going to go to war... and the Tojo clan will be erased... Majima: ........ Ibuchi: ....This is going to be interesting. Premium entertainment... Ibuchi: I'm going to go on ahead so that I can save you a seat... <gun clicks> Ibuchi: Fufufu.... Majima: ........ <Majima walks away> Ibuchi: (Even my death doesn't interest you, huh.... Well that's fine. I'll be seeing you in hell soon.) <bang>

<END>

Bonus stuff:

Here’s Ibuchi’s card. I pulled him while trying to get the Majima card and was ready to attack someone

it’s okay though because I did pull the Majima card! His summon quote is his “If ya say it’s white, it’s white..... If ya say it’s black, it’s black....... That’s how it is in the world of the yakuza” line to Terada.

this card’s title is "The Mad Dog's Proposal" and here’s his skills:

I have one suggestion for ya

Fangs that bite through the rope

Essence of Economic Stimulation (Tl note: this one is カンフル注入の極み from the phrase カンフル剤を注入 which is “injecting a shot of camphor” and is slang for jumpstarting the economy)

Knowledge of a strong defense

Down payment's wisdom

Neither of them had a character story, which is somewhat understandable given that they had this event instead 

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

[vostokovasmelina]

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢  |  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson

word count: 3.1k+

warning: mentions and descriptions of alcohol, death, grief, trauma, therapy, depression – i call this post-snap realism

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: the ending is a dark unedited mess, so proceed with caution

Taking a cautious sip of your hot beverage, you watched this absolute gatecrasher of a man trying to make up his mind about whatever he was so confused about – Sam kept looking all around your apartment as if searching for something he had left there, his slightly lost and disoriented expression sending a sudden wave of guilt rushing over you. Now that you thought about it, it really must have sucked absolute cheese for him to come home hoping he could finally have that huge cup of strong black coffee he had been anticipating ever since having defeated that enormous purple bastard from Outer Space, only to find that his coffee machine was long gone and now this random lady with a philodendron problem and a judgmental cat were inhabiting the place with absolutely no room left for him whatsoever. It did sound tragic when you put it that way.

However, it really wasn’t your fault that you had needed to find a brand new residence approximately five years before. He really should have checked in with someone to make sure he still had somewhere to go home to. You were quite clearly the real victim here. And Lord only knew how poor Archie was going to process all the excitement of the day.

For a few seconds, you contemplated whether or not to put your thoughts into words, and eventually decided against it for the time being. The man had just helped save the world a few days before, after all, and out of what? Good conscience? Personally not for you, but you could appreciate it in others. And it would have been a real shame to die right when your fan-favourite succulents and killer new posting schedule had been attracting more Instagram followers than ever before. Thanks to the savior complex flaming inside of the gentleman standing before you though, the regular civilian had luckily escaped such terrible hardships. And special thanks to approximately a thousand and one other superheroes. Oh, and to an African country filled with similarly public-spirited people.

For a few awkwardly long seconds neither of you said a word. Sam kept looking around and you watched him look around, slowly lowering your mug onto the table and tilting your head slightly to the left. Weird how Sarah had never mentioned the brother believed to be dead for the last five years was this handsome. It is unfair, really. Some people are just naturally gorgeous no matter the shitty kitchen lighting, that tiny confused frown that had been sitting on their face for the last half hour, or those shiny black bugs for eyes tearing up ever so slightly to snitch on a long repressed yawn.

“Now that the drama is over and the Avengers as such are non-existent – have you considered a career in modeling yet?”

Sam snapped his head towards you with such force and speed that for a moment you were afraid you’d have to spend the rest of the afternoon sewing it back on his neck. You grabbed your mug still pretty much filled to the brim with tea and raised it back up to your mouth to hide your lingering half-smile behind a faded portrait of baby Archie on the ivory porcelain.

“Just saying, I would buy anything for this face on the package alone,” you continued with the confidence of a woman who hasn’t got a single drop of shame left in her body. But it was fine ‘cos you didn’t actually mean it, right? It was all just a joke, an attempt at lightening the mood and snapping him out of his puzzled melancholy. And that tiny flutter of your heart upon hearing Sam’s perfect little chuckle was but a momentary malfunction of the organ. The incident was purely physiological. No contribution from any emotional factors. It was simply an innocent coincidence that these two, completely unrelated things had co-occured.

So when your gazes met, you didn’t tear yours away in embarrassment – you stood your ground, completely unaffected and unbothered, ignoring the increasingly hot sensation in your cheeks when you saw Sam raise a cheeky eyebrow at you. Before even more damage could have been done, however, you decided to cut the party short.

“Oh, no. Don’t get your hopes up, Birdman. I simply couldn’t keep watching you in your deeply disturbed state.”

Very, very smooth. Cleared of all suspicion. Good job.

“Wow. Okay. That was cruel,” Sam scoffed and gave emphasis to his words by bringing up his right palm dramatically to his chest, right above his now most definitely broken heart. The overall effect got ruined by an annoyingly goofy grin in the end and before you even realised, you had already reached out for your massive mug again to drown your own erupting smile in the hot liquid.

In the silence that followed, however, you saw Sam’s smile fall ever so slightly, as if exhaustion or worry were holding onto the corners of his lips, physically tugging them down, and you shifted slightly uncomfortably in your seat. It was time you had stopped messing around with the poor guy.

“Look, I know this is weird but I’m sure we can find a solution. Just call Sarah so she can stop worrying now,” you suggested, finishing your tea and pushing the now empty mug to the middle of the table before leaning back in your seat.

“Ugh, yeah,” Sam started slowly, squatting down to get his mobile and the charger out of his massive sports bag. “Can I plug this in somewhere?”

You blinked at him a couple of times while he waited patiently for your answer. You could only imagine the number of missed calls and unread texts waiting for Sam on his phone, but you decided you didn’t know him enough to give him a lecture on behalf of his sister. So you just gave him a tired nod and gestured lazily towards your battered kitchen counter, Sam following your direction with his gaze.

“Above the microwave. Oh, and the socket farthest to the left–”

“–doesn’t work. I remember.” Sam flashed another exhausted but friendly smirk at you above his shoulder, and you allowed yourself to return the gesture to his back once he wasn’t watching.

“Right, sorry. Forgot I was the intruder here,” you joked, delighted to earn another one of those irritatingly lively chuckles of this man’s.

You seriously needed to get your shit together.

“Okay, while your phone is doing its thing, let’s call Sarah from mine, I guess” you continued, jumping up from your chair the moment Sam returned to the table and you headed towards your worn little couch where you scratched Archie gently behind his right ear. “Where have you put my phone, you dirty old man?” You cooed, smiling softly while sliding your hands under the cheap cushions and booping your irritated cat’s tiny nose when your fingers finally touched the cold metal you had been looking for.

Once seated again, you caught Sam staring at Archie, his eyes slightly narrowed in what appeared to be deep concentration. You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head, waiting for your uninvited guest to notice you.

“I don’t think your cat likes me too much,” he finally said, slowly tearing his gaze away from the pet feline’s and looking into your slightly more welcoming human eyes instead.

You chuckled dryly, turning around to see Archie in all his glory on the couch. He simply gave you an unbothered look before completely losing interest in the two of you, and he hopped of the couch, slowly making his way towards your bedroom where you knew he would bundle up under your bed on the cosy carpet. He had apparently decided it was time for his beauty sleep.

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. Nothing personal,” you assured Sam, who offered a tired half-smile in return. You cleared your throat gently, eyes fixed on your phone’s screen and fingers already searching for Sarah’s number. Once you had found it, you handed it to Sam whose only job left was to press the call button. You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly and he let out a sigh while reaching out for your mobile.

* * *

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to Sarah. Quite the opposite, actually. But he was embarrassed. Sam knew full well how furious his sister was going to be. And honestly, rightfully so. He couldn’t argue with that. After all, she did say there had been something she wanted to talk to him about. And Sam did hang up on her without a passable excuse. And he did let his phone die on his way back home to Louisiana.

Yeah, he most probably wasn't going to be nominated for this year's Brother of the Year award.

Their last call had happened two days before. Two days is a long time without any news from a brother who had just returned after having been believed to be dead for the past five years. And if you had been to ask him, Sam wouldn’t have been able to tell you what had gotten into him either but ever since the Blip, something had not been exactly right. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what was going on, so he hadn’t brought it up to anyone, but his brain felt slow and foggy as if it hadn't had time to catch up yet.

Sometimes, Sam worried that the molecules in his brain had been mixed up and hadn't been put back into their original places in the process of the whole turning-into-dust-and-back-into-human-form-again thing.

It was a silly thought, yes, but with everything going on in the world, would it really be that hard to believe?

"Hey hon! What's up?" Sam's thought process was cut off by the endearing voice of his sister, and though he was aware all this affection was not directed towards him – given that he had called Sarah on your phone – his heart did swell upon hearing her again.

And then he said hi and it all went south from there.

Sarah was obviously pissed.

She asked Sam if he had any idea how many texts and missed calls she had left him, and no, he had no clue but if he had to guess, the number would have been way high up in the double digits.

Then she started going off on Sam, using different kinds of actually very creative euphemisms – which was a problem because Sam got so distracted by his sister's choice of words that her short, well-thought out rant had very little effect on him, but at least he had enough self-respect left to get his sister off speaker at this point.

"Look, Sarah, I know I messed up but I'm fine! I swear," he started, cutting his sister short while subconsciously picking at the skin around the nail on his index finger with his thumb. "What if I stop by Andy's and tell him to give me their best apple pie?" Sam added, hoping this promise would serve as an ice-breaker. Sarah did love her desserts. A lot. And Andy always gave a discount to the Wilson family, too.

When he heard his sister's tired sigh, Sam's heart gave a hopeful flutter, but he was rudely dragged back onto the ground on his way to cloud nine the very next second.

"I'm doing the shopping at the moment. Just got here and it's gonna take long," Sarah replied, annoyance poking through all her words. Then, the tension that had been dominating the pair's call suddenly seemed to evaporate as Sam sensed a weak shadow of a smile in her following sentence. "But that apple pie does sound good."

Sam couldn't help the grin that creeped its way onto his face and he didn't even care about Sarah's semi-serious threat, saying how they were nowhere near finished yet. He muttered out a quick sorry again, promised Sarah to give her regards to you and finished the call with a charming 'I love you' to which his sister replied with a snarky 'I bet' before hanging up with a promise that she would call again when she got home.

Sam let out a relieved chuckle before handing you back your phone and taking the final sip of his slightly lukewarm coffee, watching your bright red-nailed fingers tap away on the device, and he swallowed harder and probably louder than he had meant to. You just happened to put your phone down the very next second, so he tried to cover up the gulp by clearing his throat and shifting his gaze from your nails to your eyes.

Beautiful eyes.

Well shit.

"So, I guess you're staying," you started hesitantly, raising your eyebrows at Sam in a slightly impatient manner, which snapped him out of his blissful thoughts and thrust him back into reality.

Was he staying? He certainly had nowhere to go now that he was practically homeless and his sister was unable to welcome him in her own home for the next two hours, at least. But then again, you were a complete stranger whose afternoon he had just disrupted, and it didn't matter how weird it felt seeing you be so at home in his apartment because it wasn't his anymore. It was yours and you had all the right to kick Sam out and he had absolutely zero right to argue.

But, thankfully, he didn't have to.

"Which is fine, by the way. I did promise you an explanation, after all." Sam couldn't quite ignore the hint of dread behind your words and he was ready to object, to leave you alone and spend the rest of his afternoon doing God-knows-what, but then you offered him another cup of coffee followed by a tiny but honest smile, and Sam just couldn't bring himself to say no.

* * *

Sam Wilson was ridiculously easy to open up to.

It made you want to commit a crime.

His gaze was so intensely warm that after a while, you were looking at everything in your apartment but him just to avoid accidentally trauma dumping on him, especially when you got to the part about group therapy.

Because you had met Sarah at a group therapy session approximately four and a half years before.

It had been clear from the very first minute that neither of you had actually wanted to be there and that both of you had been forced into this situation. Sarah had been dragged to group by an overly enthusiastic co-worker of hers whose crush on the counselor had been probably more intense than the trauma she had suffered – she had lost a dog and her neighbor to the right whom she had always talked shit about behind his back. She was a nice enough woman, but considering that people had lost actual family in the Snap, her presence had always been mostly aggravating, to say the least.

In your case, it had been your grandmother who had bullied you into going to one of the sessions because 'she had the same rotten mentality when Miss Taylor told her to go but then she found it life-changing'. At this point, you had become so indifferent to everything in the world that you hadn't needed much convincing to go. You had told yourself it would be one session anyway after which you would have told Grandma Ethel that 'therapy was simply not for you' and could have been back to your usual Thursday evening routine consisting of a cheap bottle of red wine and depressing reruns of trashy British reality shows from the late 2000s.

The actual sessions had never worked for you. They might have if you had actually spoken up at any of them but you had never become quite ready to talk about your loss in front of a dozen other people, most of whom you had already known. But then you had met Sarah and something about her had made you feel secure, secure enough to talk about them for the first time, so you had started hanging out at a café not too far from the community center and it had become the best thing in your life.

"And the rest is history," you finished, getting up from your chair to put both yours and Sam's mug in the sink and watered your nearby plants while at it.

"I'm really glad Sarah had someone by her side," Sam commented and you could hear a hint of guilt in his words but you decided to ignore it. You simply nodded and muttered out a weak 'yeah', saying you were just as happy to have found a friend like Sarah.

Then Sam said something that made all the muscles in your body tense up and you froze completely for the next couple of seconds.

"And have you seen your family yet? Now that they've come back?"

It was an innocent question. He doesn't know the whole story. So calm down.

You slowly put down the glass you had used earlier to water your plants and tried with every particle in your body to put on the best toothpaste commercial-worthy smile you could force out of yourself before turning back towards Sam and answering his absolutely understandable question.

"Yeah!" No. "They're doing well, actually!" They're fucking dead.

Sam's genuinely happy smile was way too much to handle and if it hadn't been for a call from Sarah, you would have broken down in tears right in front of him the very next moment.

So instead of all that, you decided to turn right back around, pour yourself a huge glass of cold tapwater and down it in one breath while Sam finished his brief conversation with his sister. The stinging pain in your chest that followed was enough to distract your thoughts until he was finally at the door, saying goodbye and thanking your for the coffee and saying sorry for intruding and taking absolutely way too fucking long to finally leave.

"Hey, um... I could give you my number? If you ever need anything or..."

He can't be serious.

"Sure! You can, ugh, put it in my phone," you replied, your hands shaking dangerously as you reached into your back pocket for your mobile and handed it to Sam, who knew better than to comment on it.

Once finished, he returned your phone with one of those irritatingly joyful smiles of his and with a final 'see you around' Sam Wilson was off and you proudly patted yourself on the back for successfully holding it together until you finally reached your couch.

* * *

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[a-la-la-llama]

The one where Marinette Steals the Batmobile #1

I’m trying to get a schedule going for my writing and planning on writing one-shots and posting them every Monday. We’ll see How this goes, Enjoy!

Part 2     Part 3

  Fifteen year old Marinette didn’t know what her future would hold but her younger self did not expect this. Five months before her thirteenth birthday she was given the Ladybug Miraculous. After that she was named the guardian of more than a dozen pocket sized gods while still trying to defeat Paris’ villian. By the time she turned fourteen, she had defeated her partner's father, took a hold of all the miraculous’, and became an orphan. The kwami’s supported her in her time of need and understood she was adjusting to not having all her previous weight on her shoulders and the grief of losing her parents in the final battle. With no real person to turn to, she decided to lose herself. What better place for a teenage superhero to retire in than a dark city filled with highly unstable people such as herself. With the Kwami’s and her parents, Master Fu’s, and her own savings she teleported to Gotham City.

  Just because the miraculous were made to stop evil did not mean the Kwami didn’t like getting into mischief. Especially a certain cat, fox, and mouse with no one but the god of creation to stop them. The same thing could be said about Marinette, however, she too was curious about making trouble. The city was practically in rubble but it already had heroes and she no longer wanted the weight of being a hero. Marinette also couldn’t stand the long faces of the tiny gods who wanted nothing more to explore the world. Within the first months of her stay in Gotham she became a well known thief that could rival the infamous Catwoman. She never stole anything for her own gain of course, most of the time it was miraculous’ in museums or bad people’s stuff. At the moment she has three notorious gangs wanting her head for stealing their guns and feeding them to Plagg. The only thing ever left behind was a red symbol much like the design of Master Fu's box.

  “Kitten! I’m so bored, why can’t we go out?”, Plagg whined atop of Marinette’s head.

“You heard what Tikki said, we have to lay low for now since we stole that emerald and ancient headware piece from the museum”, she said.

“But those new kwami’s are so mean!”, Trixx added.

“That’s why they are in the box and you guys are allowed to roam around.”, countered Marinette.

“Mari, you really shouldn't be wearing this many miraculous.”, chided Tikki from her tray of cookies.

“I’m fine, I am only wearing five anyway!”, she responded.

“I for one think three days is enough time. Plus, we don’t have to steal anything, just go out for a joy run!”, Mullo said.

“I agree, please Mari!”, Trixx begged.

“It’s not up to me Miri’s, you have to beg Tikki.”, she responded. Marinette smiled as the three swarmed the red god with pleas and threats to destroy all the cookies in the house. It was all worth the glare Tikki sent her way before she gave in.

“Fine. No stealing, I swear if I find out you did I’ll make you return it!”, the goddess threatened. Just like that a multi mouse, fox, and cat made their way across the rooftops for their latest adventure.

  “What should we do, now?”, asked MultiMouse.

MultiMinou narrowed her eyes at a dark parking lot with only one car parked in it. “Since we finished our joy run, how about we take a joy ride?”, she said with a cat-like grin.

MultiFox wagged her tail in excitement, “It looks nice too! I bet Kalkii would help us transport it to the Kwami dimension to take it for a spin.”, she squealed.

MultiMouse divided herself once more, “Mullo. Kalkii. Merge!”

  The four jumped off the roof they were perched on and made their way towards the car before transforming into their smallest selves. Entering the car through the front all the way to the air ducts was a simple task for the mice. Once inside, Multi Mouse, Minou, and Fox worked on the gas pedals and steering wheel while MultiHorse worked on the portal in the passenger seat.

“How do we even start this thing!”, Minou whined.

“It has a screen right here. Maybe we push it?”, suggested Mouse.

Tapping the screen, the car let out a soft hum before various blue lights turned on. The mice all had one thing on their mind, “Merde!”

  Marinette had had a couple of run-ins with the dubbed ‘BatFam’ in her time in Gotham already. She had expected it to because of her being a well-known thief and all, of course they would try to stop her. Marinette also had a huge upper-hand against them with her powers. One minute her bright orange tail is being chased by three and the next she is standing right in front of them watching them curse, wondering where she went. Illusions were the best thing to ever have! Marinette especially liked messing with the youngest one because of how angry he would get. Once, she saw him wait until no one was there and proceed to cut a trash bin in half with his katana. When he is with the one with the red helmet the two curse like sailors. The boy who has a cowl that looks like an egg, similar to Aspik, gets frustrated when his heat sensor malfunction when he is looking right at her. When the youngest isn’t around she’ll tail the one in blue and whisper things while he is patrolling. Most of the time it’s ‘Boo!’ or ‘Rawr!’ and what she has heard the people in his ear call him before as Minou, ‘Dick’. The man screams like a little girl and gets paranoid easily. When he tries to tell his partners they brush him off!

  That wasn’t the point right now. The point was, Marinette found herself trying to steal the Batmobile. As if matters couldn’t get any worse, MultiFox turned to her left to see the youngest and Batman making their way towards her, trying to steal the Batmobile! So, MultiMinou did the only logical thing to do. As soon as the portal opened she slammed on the gas leaving the two in her dust. Darn Plagg and his chaotic-ness! Hopefully the drive would be worth the wrath of Tikki.

  It was not worth Tikki’s anger at all. Of course Marinette, Mullo, Trixx, and Kalkii threw Plagg under the bus for it but they didn’t get out of it unscathed. True to her word unlike the five, Tikki forced them to return the vehicle to Batman the next night. They also had to write a note apologizing to Batman for all the trouble they caused. MultiBug went with the four as they teleported straight into the secret Batcave and pushed the car out of the portal. Luckily no one seemed to be there and they left quickly after placing the note on the windshield.

  Red Robin was there. Red Robin blinked once. Twice. Red Robin rubbed his eyes.

The Batmobile was still there but the five identical girls were gone.

He calmly turned around back towards the computer. He must be hallucinating right? When was the last time he slept? That didn’t matter. He had to check the cameras to see if they got that and once the rest got back from patrol they could tell him if it was real. He turned back one more time towards the car and noticed the note. Better to not touch it in case it disappeared again. Coffee. He needs coffee to explain this.

  Marinette ended up passed out on the couch as soon as they got home just like Tikki predicted. Seriously, that girl should listen to her more. Miraculous’ can take a huge toll on humans. All the active Kwami were nested on top of her unconscious body when Tikki decided to ask what exactly was on the note.

“The note? Oh that note! Well…”,Plagg dragged out with a yawn.

  Dear Mr.Batman and Traffic Light boy.

We are very sorry for taking your Batmobile for the day and I swear we didn’t mean to. We thought it was an abandoned car and wanted to learn how to drive. When we got in we realized this was a mistake but you were very close to us and we didn’t want to get in trouble so we took it! Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything with it but drive. Since we are making confessions do you think we should add the rest? Might as well Kitten so she doesn’t get mad at us. No, Trix don’t write that, stop it!

-We were the ones that scared the Blue Boy.

-Tell him that ‘Dick’ isn’t a very good vigilante name.

-Traffic-Light boy we saw you cut that trash bin in half.

-Traffic-Light boy and Red Helmet need to watch their language.

-Egg head, your cowl looks like an egg.

-Those guns we stole all got destroyed, don’t worry! Have you ever melted them? It’s really cool to watch.

-We ate that granola bar that Red Helmet had in his pocket.

-It made us feel really funny.

-We caught Egg head when he passed out while grapple hooking.

-Oh, write that we are really evil. I wanna make them scared!

-We are really evil!

-Blue Boy has really good jokes that make us laugh.

  “Then it’s signed with their usual red symbol, a green cat print, mouse ears, fox tail, and a horse spur.”, Alfred concluded.

“Shiitake mushrooms! They knew my identity and didn’t even realize it.” Nightwing screeched, grabbing his hair.

“That granola bar was a ‘special’ brownie.”, Red Hood stated.

“I do NOT look like an egg! ...Ok maybe I do.”, sighed Red Robin.

“I told you I kept hearing things and I was RIGHT!”, shouted Nightwing.

“They can’t be real if they liked your jokes, Grayson.”, Robin said.

“Ouch, Traffic-Light boy! That felt like you cut me in half like that trash can.”, teased Nightwing.

 Batman took the note from Alfred and rewatched the footage from the caves cameras. They five looked younger than Robin and obviously held some type of magical abilities to create a portal. From what he could tell they weren’t actually doing bad things and when they did they felt guilty about it. He pulled up the note left at the museum that was also an apology.

  “They are just kids, Alfred.”, Batman mumbled.

Alfred hummed. “Kids who need some guidance I suppose, Master Bruce?”, he suggested.

[amedetoiles]

In another installment of things I should absolutely not be adding to my already large collection of unfinished google docs, I once more have absolutely no self control, so about that post on wedding planner!WWX.....

Set in the same verse as this. Very on brand of me to start writing a sequel for a fic I have yet to finish. Post-canon, post-reconciliation, and WQ is alive because I say so.

---

In retrospect, Jiang Cheng probably should have predicted this.

Jiang Cheng has grown up with Wei Wuxian. He knows exactly the level of ridiculousness his brother can reach. Nearly all of his childhood was dedicated to learning this exact fact. Compounded with that is how fully Wei Wuxian always throws himself into any project that catches his brother’s attention. For a long time, that had been a-jie’s wedding.

All those late nights he and Wei Wuxian had spent planning together, mapping out detailed seating charts, and designing elaborate challenges for the groom. Wei Wuxian, practically delirious with childish excitement, had proposed and demanded in equal measure extravagance after extravagance because their sister only deserved the very best in the world.

Even still, Jiang Cheng can’t say that he had expected exactly... this.

Three days after Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing tell their family about their betrothal, Wei Wuxian bursts into Jiang Cheng’s office mid-morning, his hair still uncombed and sticking out in multiple directions. His arms are full of scrolls, which he proceeds to unceremoniously dump across Jiang Cheng’s desk.

Wei Wuxian ignores Jiang Cheng’s indignant squawking and speaks rapidly, all of his words running together, and practically vibrating on his feet with a frenzy that brings Jiang Cheng abruptly back to their childhood, laying on the floor of their shared room with scrolls strewn all around them and listening while Wei Wuxian raves enthusiastically about his latest idea for a challenge.

Lan Wangji stands at the doorway, alternating between looking worried that Wei Wuxian might asphyxiate with how fast he is speaking and giving Jiang Cheng a look that says this is under no uncertain terms completely Jiang Cheng’s fault as usual.

(In the three years since his brother married Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji have formed an extremely respectful and productive relationship of tolerating each other’s presence for the exact minimum duration it takes to make Wei Wuxian happy. It is still too long for either of them.)

“The Mao and Guo sects are still feuding so they need to be seated as far apart as possible,” Wei Wuxian is saying, barely pausing for breath as he flits from topic to topic with a speed that leaves Jiang Cheng feeling faintly dizzy. “Fan shushu says he will share his recipe for Qing-jie’s xi bing. The head of the lotus harvesters will arrange to have water lilies transported from the southern borders. I have some designs for the invitations that you and Qing-jie can take a look at. And – Oh!”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up suddenly with an unholy fervor that has never, ever boded well for Jiang Cheng, and then Wei Wuxian turns, calls I have to go! over his shoulder, and leaves as quickly as he came. Lan Wangji makes sure to shoot Jiang Cheng one final accusatory glare before following after his husband because Wei Wuxian couldn’t have married someone that wasn’t a huge petty bitch.

Jiang Cheng sits, shocked still, his desk looking like a storm had blown by, and stares at the empty space where his brother was just standing.

He may have slightly miscalculated.

---

A month later, Jiang Cheng contemplates taking Wen Qing and running away to a deserted mountain. (Who says Wei Wuxian is the only one allowed to do that anyway? At least his mountain won’t be prone to murder.)

He won’t of course. He is the Jiang sect leader, and since his birth, his wedding has always been expected to have the pomp and circumstance befitting that of a leader of a great sect. He would never run out on that responsibility no matter how fucking crazy Wei Wuxian is driving him.

But Jiang Cheng does think about it, very wistfully.

He even brings it up half-seriously with Wen Qing one morning after a disciple comes to inform him that Wei Wuxian had had his schedule completely cleared without Jiang Cheng’s knowledge or permission. Jiang Cheng is now expected to meet his brother at the gate in a quarter shichen’s time for who knows what because his brother is as obnoxiously forthcoming as he has always been.

Wen Qing laughs at him because she is terrible, and he has clearly made a huge mistake.

She also presses a light kiss to his cheek and promises to threaten Wei Wuxian with needles later if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and rest before leaving to have tea with Luo Qingyang because she’s also pretty fantastic, and Jiang Cheng has made the best decision of his life.

Even if it means standing in the middle of the tailor shop while Wei Wuxian darts around him like a deranged bird, dangling various fabric samples in front of Jiang Cheng, frowning for some obscure reason he doesn’t deign to tell Jiang Cheng because who cares what Jiang Cheng thinks about his own wedding, tossing the piece of fabric onto the growing no pile, and then picking up yet another.

On the eleventh turn of this, Jiang Cheng feels a sharp throb against his temple and takes a deep slow breath, then another, and another, so he doesn’t scream, or strangle his brother with the fabrics.

“You do realize that this is my fucking wedding?” Jiang Cheng growls with frustration.

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian says immediately, nodding in a way that feels like he’s actually taking Jiang Cheng seriously even as he picks up yet another fabric sample. Jiang Cheng bites his tongue to keep himself from shouting and glares.

Wei Wuxian continues before Jiang Cheng can speak (yell), moving to hold the fabric against Jiang Cheng’s face, “But you’re my little brother.”

Jiang Cheng blinks, opens his mouth and then closes it. His throat feels suddenly inexplicably tight. An embarrassing warmth expands rapidly beneath his rib cage, and he thinks he might actually choke on it.

He looks at the fabric instead of his brother’s face because he will not cry. The red silk is a shade lighter than Wei Wuxian’s customary color and of exceptionally high quality. (That Wei Wuxian has been choosing from the most expensive of silks has not escaped Jiang Cheng’s attention. He has been trying and failing to not have feelings about this.) The patterning is beautiful, the soft, gentle swirls reminiscent of the lakes surrounding Yunmeng.

It isn’t something Jiang Cheng would have chosen on his first glance through. It is, he realizes with a swoop in his stomach, something a-jie might have picked out.

Jiang Cheng has, until now, avoided thinking too hard about all the empty spaces at his wedding, still riding the steady wonder that fills him every time he looks at the comb tucked neatly against Wen Qing’s hair. And after these last few years of having his brother beside him again, of their misshapen family relearning to fit together with all its new pieces, it is almost, almost, unfamiliar to feel that old aching loss rise within him.

He wonders how much of Wei Wuxian’s frenzied insanity is because he is feeling it too.

After all, Jiang Cheng remembers the months of spreading himself thin between sect obligations and wedding preparations, of tracking down the finest fabrics and jewelry that Jiang and Jin gold could buy in between meetings and conferences, of trying and trying and trying to make up for an absence that creased the edges of a-jie’s eyes in sorrow, even when she stood, radiant in red and gold on her wedding day.

“Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asks, his voice and gaze softening with concern.

Jiang Cheng swallows several times, his eyes prickling along with his nose, and he stares at the spot above Wei Wuxian’s head. You don’t have to do this, he wants to say. You don’t need to do this. “It isn’t atrocious I guess,” is what comes out.

Even in his periphery, he can see Wei Wuxian’s eyes crinkle with a familiar fondness. His brother nods and lays the fabric gently down on what Jiang Cheng supposes is now the yes pile.

“As expected of Jiang zongzhu,” Wei Wuxian says in a teasing tone that he only uses when he wants to piss off Jiang Cheng.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng says swiftly, without any heat. Then, adds, “Yiling Laozu.”

Wei Wuxian laughs and shoves him. “Fuck off,” he says, but he’s smiling as he turns and picks up the next sample, and Jiang Cheng feels his own lips curve in an answering smile.

Okay, he thinks. Okay. He can do this.

He can let his brother have this. Maybe they can both have this.

[vantaenims]

daffodil street | seokjin

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, angst

word count: 8.1k

warning/s: mentions of death, age difference, unrequited love, and mutual pining.

summary: You’ve been struggling for quite some time to overcome your feelings for your best friend who doesn’t even love you the way that you do but there are instances when he would ignite your hopes or maybe this is all just in your mind but is too much to ask for something more?

Part of BTSGhostieBingo (unrequited love)

masterlist

all rights reserved © vantaenims - do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

--

Daffodil symbolizes regard and chivalry. It is indicative of rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life.

Jin has told you the meaning behind this yellow flower countless times that you have memorized it by heart.

Why would he explain and tell this to you? Because Daffodil is the name of the street from where he lives and it also happens to be the street where you occasionally wander around with your bicycles during the late afternoons or evenings.

It’s something you’ve both done in the past when the both of you were still teenagers wherein you still have a lot of time to spare to do those kind of things but Jin managed to reopen the idea last week despite how hectic both of your schedules are - Jin being busy with graduate school and you with work.

You have happened to know Jin through your older brother. They have known each other ever since their grade school days but only got the chance to be closer in high school – a time in which Jin would frequently visit your house to play games after school until he stopped doing so when he turned eighteen.

You were in the living room, watching the television when Jin entered the house without your brother, telling you that your brother’s still in a meeting with his school club members and that he’s just going to wait for him here until he gets home.

But that never happened, your brother never came home.

Your brother was only eighteen when he was taken away in this world. He was on his way home, riding his bike when he had gotten into an accident as a truck van going over a hundred miles per hour in an intersection managed to beat a red light that ultimately caused the death of your brother.

Ever since that incident, you and Jin have become closer than ever considering you two are the only people that know your brother best, with him being his best friend and you being his younger sister. You two had become each other’s sense of comfort through all of the sorrowful and devastating times of your life.

[Sunday, Oct 6, 9:01 PM]

Jin: Where are you?

You: Home

You: Why?

Jin: Meet me in front of my house

Without much thought, you know for sure that he’s inviting you over to wander around his neighborhood. You got up from your bed as you grabbed your windbreaker from the back of your door, wearing it over your pajamas, not caring to dress up into something casual considering the time and the place. 

“I’ll be going to Jin's,” you said to both of your parents as you peeked your head inside their bedroom.

“When did you not?” your mother lightly chuckled, “Don’t come home too late, you have work tomorrow”

“Yeah, I know” you said as you shook your head at your mother’s unwavering strictness with you.

Opening your storage room under the stairs, you got your bike out as you made your way outside of your house and on to your way to Jin’s house which is approximately five minutes away from you. 

Soon as you know it, the subdivision gate then came into view as you turned right but then you instinctively stopped your bike as you skidded both of your slippers against the asphalt when you almost crashed yourself into the barrier gate that usually opens right away since the head security, Mister Choi, has grown to be familiar with you since he’s the one stationing the place over the years but it seems like a new security personnel replaced him.

“Location and I.D. Please” the man said who looked to be in his early thirties.

You panicked for a bit as you only brought your phone and a bit of cash with you, patting the pockets of your windbreaker for the hopes that you could’ve left your company I.D. there but you were met with none. Suddenly, the barrier gate was lifted and a familiar voice spoke out to you.

“The Kim’s at Daffodil Street, right?” Mister Choi asked you whilst he whispered to the young man how you frequent here hence the reason why he should not bother to ask for your identification.

“It’s okay, he’s just doing his job anyway and thank you, Mister Choi” you waved as you then entered the subdivision. 

The security is pretty tight in here and by tight you mean that they have a protocol that should be strictly done - the guard house needs to contact the home owners every time someone wants to visit them to confirm if they’re expecting a visitor and once it’s confirmed, they could only then proceed inside.

The subdivision is considered as one of the exclusive homes for high profile individuals like celebrities, politicians, and such, hence the tight security. There’s no doubt that Jin’s family lives here since his dad is known to be the president of their multinational company which is something Jin would like to follow.

Jin’s currently taking his masterals in a graduate school that specializes in the business field, saying how he felt like it’s his responsibility to continue their company’s legacy someday since his older brother opted to go through the medical field instead which left him with no choice but to be the successor of their family business - not that he’s complaining as he told you because he in fact unexpectedly feels like he’s made for it.

As you entered, the first street post came into view, reciting them in a whisper as you passed by them.

Hyacinth Street.

Lilac Street.

Aster Street.

And finally, Daffodil Street.

It’s the fourth street to the right upon entering the gate. You chuckled to yourself upon thinking how Daffodil Street is the fourth street because you see, number four has become to be more  meaningful for you or should you say that it has sounded foolish enough for you this year. 

Four years is just the number of your age gap between you and Jin that seems to be pretty non-existent with how close you two are.

Four years is just the number of how it has been so long since you hid something from Jin, fearing that you might salvage your friendship with him if you planned to lay it out for him.

Four years is just the number since the time you fell in love with Jin.

Four years. It was also four years ago when you vaguely remember that night clearly, the night of your 19th birthday where you indirectly confessed your feelings to Jin and as a return, you got indirectly rejected too.

It was exactly 12 a.m. when Jin messaged you a birthday greeting and also telling you that he’s outside of your house. Jin has made it his mission to always be the first one to greet you, saying that you’ll have an amazing and great day ahead of you when the first greeting comes from the ‘most handsome man’ as what Jin refers to himself which is probably what you've grown to ignore by now.

Peeking out your window, you saw that he came along with his bike, instantly figuring out what you’re going to do but instead of the usual Daffodil Street, you biked around your neighborhood instead.

There’s something about the midnight hours that can make people emotionally vulnerable. You know how they say that a person tends to reveal the things they wouldn’t think they would say to another person during these hours and you’re the living proof to confirm it.

“I think i like...someone” you said, quickly replacing the word ‘you’ into ‘someone’ out of panic.

“Is it me?” Jin said, probably in a joking manner. Usually, you would just laugh at his statement but you’re pretty anxious right now and all you could do is to just stare at him, suddenly losing the will to answer the question.

“Don’t you think i’m too old for you?” Jin laughed as he ruffled a bit of your hair. You decided to laugh along but more so to laugh at yourself for thinking you’d have a chance to begin with perhaps for also the fact that you’ve been rejected indirectly.

“Kidding aside, who is it?” 

“Nevermind, i think i really don’t like him that much”, you said as you look at Jin who’s completely oblivious to the pain you’re feeling inside.

Ever since that happened, you accepted that Jin would never see you in a different light thus the reason you tried your best to hinder the feelings you’ve harbored for him but it only did the exact opposite thing for you because it ironically grew even more over the years that you felt like you can’t escape from it now.

Soon enough, you took out your phone to call Jin to inform him that you’re already outside of their house but then he quickly dismissed the call, making you furrow your eyebrows until an obnoxiously loud sound startled you, causing you to drop your phone.

Looking to your right, you then see Jin in the driver seat of his pickup truck, doubling in laughter at your reaction and as if he wasn’t satisfied enough, he turned on the engine and the headlights, blinding you in the process as you got off your bike to pick up your phone off the ground and finally, glaring at him as you made your way towards his window.

“Sorry, you should’ve seen your face,” Jin said, calming himself once he saw your annoyed face, “Get in.”

“Weren’t we going to bike around?” you confusedly asked.

“Yeah, we are” Jin got out of his car to get your bike from you as he went to the back, opening his trunk to see that his bike was already loaded in there.

“Where are we going?” Jin smiled at that question but it just ticked you off at how he’s been clearly ignoring your questions as he picked up your bike to place it beside his, closing the trunk once he’s done,  still no answer as he went straight away inside the car.

“You didn’t answer me” you said through his open window.

“Get in first” you rolled your eyes at him but nonetheless walked around the other side of the car, opening the door of the passenger side to get in but his pile of textbooks and a rim of photocopied papers occupied the space.

“Sorry, i just got home and had a meeting with my groupmates”, Jin told you as he emptied the front seat and placed all of it at the back seat along with his backpack.

“Can you now tell me where are we going?” 

“Why don’t you put your seatbelt in first before i tell you?” Jin mischievously smiled that left you to huff in annoyance whilst you buckled yourself in.

Jin put the car into drive once you got yourself safely settled in your seat, the smile he’s been wearing still evident but it quickly broke into a chuckle when he noticed in his peripheral vision how you’re completely facing him and he just knows you’re completely annoyed by now.

“We’re going to Hangang Park.”

“At this hour? And it’s Monday tomorrow” Jin knew you would oppose his idea but he luckily made it work, thanks to your obedience.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to bike around a new scenery and not Daffodil Street?”

“But it’s late and you know that it’s Monday tomorrow”

“Just this once, please? Plus I'm your free pass, right?”

Technically, Jin is indeed your free pass - it’s more of like what you refer to him whenever you plan to stay out late at night back then. As you’ve mentioned, your parents are strict in a sense that they have imposed a curfew on you when you were still studying but that wouldn’t matter to them once you let them know that you’re with Jin or how he’s going to take you home - indicating how much they trust Jin.

Of course, you don’t have a curfew to follow anymore but that still wouldn’t stop your parents to question your whereabouts whenever it’s late but that’s fine with you, reminding yourself that they’re just concerned for you.

“Fine, it’s not like I have a choice anyway” you said as to cover the fact that you’re already into whatever idea Jin has to begin with just because you couldn’t say no to him.

“Don’t make it that way” Jin ruffled your hair, causing you to smile.

--

Biking around Hangang Park is something you’ve never done in your whole life despite living in Seoul for years until now. It has always been one of the things you’ve wanted to do but too lazy to do anything about it, setting it aside for some future time. It’s nice to bike around a new scenery as Jin said - skyscrapers and city lights in sight along with busking performances that made the place livelier at night.

Jin, who’s biking ahead of you, seems to be wearing a more casual attire with his plain white shirt and ripped denim pants, making you look underdressed compared to him as you’re only wearing a set of pink Hello Kitty pajamas, thinking you’re only going to bike around his neighborhood.

“You should’ve told me sooner that we’re going here so i could’ve dressed up” you complained, pedaling faster so that you’ll be cycling beside him.

Jin looked at you, chuckling once he took notice of your appearance, “It’s okay, you’re fine.”

“You’re saying that because you’re wearing normal clothes” 

“You look cute in it, don’t worry”

You opted to look at the buildings to your right instead so that you could hide how that got you so flustered, making you purse your lips to stop your smile from getting bigger. Racking your mind, you’ve thought of things to talk about before the mood gets awkward until you’ve thought of one thing you’ve been curious about the happenings for the past week.

“Why are you being so spontaneous lately?”

You’re only able to reach out and hang out with each other through phone calls and messages or if luck is on your side, you’d get to hang out with him for at least once a month though that also rarely happens but you’re thankful your closeness still remains the same.

Also, you never failed to notice how Jin would message you every single night, inviting you to bike around which is something you’ve both done in the past but failed to continue considering your busy lives now until everything took a turn during the last week and suddenly, you’ve been spending most of your time together whether it be through meetups or through phone calls and messages.

“I just have a lot in my mind right now and you see those textbooks right?”

“If i remember correctly, isn’t your reporting due this week?”

“Yeah but I’ll be burned out if i don’t take a break right now.”

Graduate School is surely taking a toll on Jin specially with the way he always complains to you about how he’s hardly getting any rest or sleep from how his schedule is always filled with day to day lectures, reports, and presentations and at the same time, he would occasionally drop by his dad’s company to help him and learn the know hows. 

Jin has told you how it has taken all of the free time he has and there was no doubt that he is exaggerating any of it. You could only sympathize and show support to Jin who is clearly only doing the best that he can to live up the expectations they’ve set on him as the sole successor of their business.

“How’s grad school for you?” 

“Hell as always but i’m just glad i’d get to leave that hell hole soon”

“Oh so you’re claiming it huh?”

“Wow, are you underestimating me?” Jin dramatically clutched his hand above his chest, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

“Of course not, Mister COO” you teased as what you’ve always called him, telling him that if his dad is the CEO then that makes him the COO - Child Of the Owner, “I now already know what to get for your graduation gift.”

“What?” Jin asked, raising his eyebrows at you.

“A name plaque that you can place in your office - Kim Seokjin, Child Of the Owner”

“Funny” Jin said in a sarcastic manner.

“Oh come on, your jokes are far worse than mine” you playfully slammed your hand against his back when you biked past him.

“You just have a bad sense of humor” Jin snickered at you.

It was particularly refreshing to stroll around Hangang Park at night until it had to be ruined when you have to maneuver around the couple who’s engrossed in kissing each other in the middle of the bike lane out of all places. If you come to look at it, there are a lot of couples surrounding the area as if it isn’t enough to make you feel more single and lonely.

“How is Nami, by the way?”

Nami is one of the kindest persons you’ve met in your life, she’s so kind that it’ll be impossible to grow some kind of hatred towards her, specially if she’s the one who’s making Jin happy for four years now and you can’t help but sometimes be jealous of her.

They’ve been together for so long that the idea of them ending up marrying together isn’t a far fetch idea at all. Nami and Jin are what you’d like to call the perfect pair, seeing how their relationship looks to be healthy and ideal for a couple. They’ve genuinely both brought out the best in each other that’s why you couldn’t really find a reason not to hate Nami because she deserves him - they both deserved each other.

You’re not even faking it when you think of it that way because you’ve come to accept it a long time ago that you and Jin can only be friends ever since his rejection but it can’t always be helped that there are times you still think of the possibility between you two though rarely but the hope is still there.

“She’s okay”, Jin answered.

“Just okay?” you scoffed at his prompt response.

“Yeah” Jin raised his eyebrows at you, not knowing what you would want him to say, “Anyway, how about you? I keep forgetting to ask how you are every time we meet.”

You stare at Jin’s side profile, thinking if he just dodged his way out of talking about Nami but you shrugged nonetheless as you pressed on the brakes.

“I’m tired.” you exclaimed as you stood up, bottoms hurting from sitting too much on the saddle.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“No, I'm literally tired. Can we take a break on that bench first?” you chuckled as you pointed to the bench that’s facing the river as you made your way over it.

Hopping off your bike, you put down the kickstand as you set it aside the bench where you plopped off as you let your head lull backwards on the edge of the backseat, giving you a perfect view of the night sky and the 63 Building on your right side catching your attention.

Beside you, you then see a group of kids playing with their light up toys as they run along the grass. The view gave you a sense of nostalgia when you and your brother used to beg for your parents to buy you one whenever you would go to a park as you would always get jealous of the other kids who also had them.

“Do you want some water?” Jin suddenly asked, standing up to go to the convenience store nearby when you nodded at him. 

“Can you also buy some ramen? I heard that they taste way better here” you shouted as Jin raised his thumb at you. You turned back to watch the kids having fun when you felt the buzz on your phone.

[Sunday, Oct 6, 10:39 PM]

Moyeon: What’s your passport number?

Moyeon: There’s an ongoing seat sale, so hurry!!

You: Wait, I’m outside!

You: I’ll send it to you later

During your college years, you’ve been planning with Moyeon to take an out of country vacation once you two have graduated hence the text message.

Moyeon: Let me guess

Moyeon: YOU’RE WITH JIN AGAIN!

You: :(

Moyeon is your best friend and the only one who knows your secret feelings for Jin which is something she had countlessly given you advice with - to  snap out of your one sided feelings in to which you would always say that you will but there are things that are easier said than done and this situation is one of those.

In the span of those four years, you’ve tried your best to totally eradicate the unnecessary feelings you have for Jin though your efforts are always wasted at the end because you fail every single time you try as you find yourself back at square one.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated along with the sound of your ringtone, the name of Moyeon with a pig emoji flashed on your screen.

“Hello, Stupid”

“Hi Moyeon” you sighed, knowing you’re in for another sermon.

“Is he with you right now?”

“No, he’s buying something at the convenience store” you said, adjusting yourself on the seat as you twisted your upper body around to place your arm on the backseat whilst you propped your chin above your arm as you stared at the convenience store so you could watch when he’ll go out.

Moyeon’s curiosity perked once she heard the mention of the convenience store and she was rather surprised to know that you’re in Hangang Park tonight, asking you if you two are on a date with you saying that you could only dream about it for that to happen.

“What happened to ‘I’m not going to give in to his hang outs’” Moyeon said in a slightly high pitched voice, causing you to smile and shake your head even though you know you’ve said that - a lot of times in fact, differing from things like ‘I won’t talk to him that much anymore’ or ‘I’ll start to ignore him’ or other things that didn’t seem to happen in the first place and you know that you’ve said it too much that Moyeon could make a screenshot compilation out of it with your replies.

You always give in easily as soon as Jin would message you as if you’ve instantly forgotten that you’re supposed to do the exact opposite thing but how can you not when he has always been irresistible for you.

“I’m just all talk, I know” you said, “My feelings for him will eventually fade soon.”

“And until when are you going to say that?”

Moyeon has her way to always keep you in touch with reality although you know for yourself where you stand in Jin’s life but you’re also not lying that there’s a tiny glimpse of hope within you that maybe or someday, he’ll be able to look at you in a different light but that’s just wishful thinking.

“Soon” you chuckled as you lifted your eyes from the ground only to see that Jin has made his way out of the convenience store and is now walking back towards you, “Okay, he’s coming back, bye!”

You heard Moyeon click his tongue in disapproval as she said one last thing before hanging up the call, “Well, don’t forget to send me your passport number.”

Placing back your phone into your pocket, you smiled at Jin as if you weren’t just talking about him earlier. 

“Who’s that?” Jin asked as he handed you the square tin foil packaging filled with ramen and a boiled egg plus a sausage on stick - your favorite.

“Just Moyeon”, you said as you broke the chopsticks, “How much is this?”

“It’s fine,” Jin said as he slurped on his noodles right away.

“Aw thank you, Jin” you said in a rather cheery voice as you winked and elbowed him at his side, causing the soup of his ramen to splatter a bit onto his jeans that made him close his eyes in an annoyed manner only to open them to give you a glare albeit playfully though he rather looked cute than menacing but you didn’t say as to not inflate his ego but more so to not give away your hidden admiration.

“Oh no, we can’t have a stain on your jeans” you took one of the tissues as you wiped it on the stain as if it’ll make a difference.

“Quit buttering me up”, Jin said as he swatted your hand away, making you chuckle as you focused your attention back on eating your ramen and soon enough, silence filled in between you two as you’re both too busy munching on your food as if you haven’t eaten dinner yet.

“I’m getting cold, can we share?” Jin said through his chattering teeth as he tugged on the sleeve of your windbreaker.

“How can we share? You know i’m always cold” you stated out though you quite feel bad for Jin who’s only wearing a short sleeve shirt whilst you on the other hand is double coated with your long sleeved top and a windbreaker.

Jin instructed you to remove your right arm from the sleeve to give that part of the windbreaker for him whilst you occupy the left sleeve with your left arm thus leaving Jin with no choice but to scoot closer to you and you can’t help but think how his shoulders are touching yours or how the sleeves of the windbreaker is too short for him as it only falls on his wrist compared to yours that’s covering half of your hand.

Butterflies make their way to your stomach and you try so hard to play it out like this is nothing to you as you focused on biting on your sausage. Until you felt a buzz coming off from his jean  pocket, spotting it to be from Jin’s phone that he took out and you were quick enough to see that it’s a call from Nami before Jin flipped his phone over so as not to show the screen and also pressing the side button to stop it from vibrating.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at why he just ignored Nami’s call.

“I’ll call her later”

Jin’s not so good at being discreet if you could say that because you could definitely tell that something’s up between him and Nami ever since that prompt reply of his, figuring that maybe they just had a big fight and you can’t help but ask just because you’re genuinely concerned if they’re alright.

“Are you two okay?” you asked as you glanced at Jin to see him focused on chewing his food as he took out the water bottle from the plastic bag to take a sip as if he’s trying to avoid your question and you were only certain that you had put him in an awkward place once you noticed his eyes blinking excessively which is an obvious sign for when he feels anxious.

You look straight ahead as you bite from your sausage and eventually humming along to the song that’s probably being performed by a busker somewhere in the distance to make up for the uncomfortable situation.

It wasn’t your intention to make Jin awkward but you could sometimes be quite dumb for not reading the air and you had just realized that Nami is probably a sensitive topic for him right now hence the reason why you didn’t pry any further even though you know everything about each other, there’ll always be some kind of boundary that you both shouldn’t stick your nose into.

“We broke up”

Upon hearing that statement, you stopped yourself from chewing only to swiftly turn your head to the side with wide eyes as you look at Jin who has his head hanging low as he stared down on his shoes.

“What!? How did - why?” you asked in a mess as you try to find the right words to say but you’re too preoccupied in processing this new information. 

So this must be the reason why he was always persistent to change the topic lately whenever Nami is brought up in the conversation and it’s because they’re no longer together anymore which is something you’re quite not sure if you should feel sad or happy about it but one thing you know is that you’re going to set aside your feelings first and be a friend to Jin, specially now.

“What do you want me to answer first?” Jin chuckled for a moment until he got serious again to continue explaining, “We broke up two weeks ago.”

“Why?”

Jin placed his elbows above his legs as he intertwined his hands, fidgeting with his thumb as if he’s hesitant to answer the question but he told you the reason nonetheless, “I don’t know… I feel unfair for not loving her the same way anymore.”

“What do you mean? Like you fell out of love?”

“Yeah” Jin confirmed.

“Did you tell her that?” Jin nodded his head, leaving you to wonder how Nami’s doing right now and how she is able to cope about this, much so because of the reason. 

You don’t know much about relationships but one thing you know is that breaking up because the other fell out of love is one of the painful reasons to take in just because it’s something out of your control or sometimes it’s beyond repair.

“Well, did you at least try to make it work again?”

“I did, in fact, this was the second time we’ve broken up. We were on the rocks since June - we’ve tried our best to fix it but i don’t know… it seems like it won’t really work anymore when i feel like this.”

You heaved out a sigh, feeling quite frustrated because he sounds very much of an asshole right now though it’s not like you could blame him when he tried to make it work but still you can’t just give up in a relationship just because he doesn’t feel anything - Love is not a feeling, it is a commitment.

You could only guess that Nami called a while ago to talk things through and persuade Jin to reconsider their relationship which you think is something Jin has finally given up on, considering how he didn’t answer the call.

“Why don’t you try again? You know, maybe a third try’s the charm.”

You know your place and you’re just being selfless so the least thing you could do right now is for Jin to be happy and you believe that Nami is the perfect person for that and he’s just out of his mind to let her go like this.

Jin only fidgeted with his thumb until he relaxly laid his back on the backseat, looking at you for the first time ever since he broke out the news that had you feeling nervous because of the close proximity but more so because of the way he’s looking at you so softly yet so intense at the same time.

“You think so?” Jin asked whilst he continued to hold you with his stare and you don’t know if you’re just imagining things but why does it look like he’s more of like asking it out of a permission but maybe that’s just what your head wants you to think and before you could even get more delusional, you break the contact as you stare straight ahead.

“Yeah, I think so”, you said as you soon started to chatter your teeth from the cold.

Jin took note of this as he scooted much closer, grabbing the side of your face with his left hand as he guided it to rest on his shoulder, hands still on the side of your face and you could only hope he wouldn’t feel how your face is heating up right now.

“Here, so you’d be warm”

“Thanks” you whispered, not even moving an inch with how the sudden action got you stunned but you know that once you move your head to look up, his face will be perfectly mere inches near you which is something you never imagined that you’ll be able to get this close to him like this.

And you took advantage of the moment to cherish it, you never know when this will ever happen again but you’ll take it if it’s the closest thing he can hold you like the way you wanted him to.

You’ve wanted to put your arms around him but you’re scared, always been scared how he will react so you just let your arm limply lay on your leg and when you were about to do it, you back away at the last minute as you slip out your arm off of the windbreaker instead.

“I’ll throw this out” you said, gathering the trash beside you as you put them in a plastic bag.

Standing up, you excused yourself with the plastic bag on your hand as you walk away in a brisk manner so you could escape for a while from the source that’s making your little hopes grow bigger day by day and it’s quite alarming you to even hope for something more when you have ingrained in your mind that it’ll be impossible to happen.

But how can you stop yourself when Jin is being more in touch with you these days and you mean it literally and figuratively. Your best at acting as if his actions do not affect you but you noticed how he’s being more affectionate than ever like how he’s placing a piece of your hair behind your ear or those subtle touches or how he’s been hanging out with you everyday all of a sudden or how he’s been constantly calling you during the late night hours just because he likes to talk to you more is what he told you even though you just met a few hours ago.

At the beginning, you thought that all of these changes seemed too good to be true and you could now confirm that your intuition is right. The reason why Jin is acting like this is because he just got himself out of a long-term relationship and that leaves him to feel vulnerable and lonely.

He just needs someone to be there for him and that someone is you because like you said - you’re each other’s sense of comfort and that’s enough for you to keep yourself in touch with reality and for your hopes to deflate.

All he needs right now is a friend, someone he could share his worries to. No more, no less.

Sighing, you disposed of the plastic bag as you crossed your arms to keep yourself warm but youre nose eventually started to feel runny that had you sniffing from the cold as you walked yourself back to the bench.

“I think we should go home now” you said as you look over at your mom’s message, saying that it’s already midnight.

“Your nose is red” Jin chuckled as he removed his arm from your windbreaker, standing up to give it to you but he beat you to it when you were about to grab it as he placed it around your shoulders that got you quite stunned for a moment until he spoke up, “Come on, get your arms in.”

This gesture made you feel weak again with how he’s being so caring but you did not show any of it as you try to play it cool.

“It’s okay, i got it” you said as you grab the windbreaker from his but Jin did nothing to move himself away, still standing in front of you as he held the piece of clothing around you and that only leaves you to abide if it’s the only way he could finally stop being this close to you because you’re sure that your heart has been a fluttering mess and you can’t keep up.

“Let’s go,” Jin said with a smile as he hopped on his bike, making you do the same as well. You let him advance for a bit until the distance is safe for you to whisper the whims of your heart.

You’re making it so hard to loose the strings when you tug it ever so tightly.

--

Thankfully, it has gotten much warmer now that you’re inside Jin’s car but that still doesn’t stop your series of sneezes and you’ve now definitely caught a cold and a case of runny nose which only made Jin feel bad for asking you to share your windbreaker with him awhile ago.

“Here have some more” Jin laughed with a lace of worry as he opened his center console to get his pack of tissues to give it to you, “Let’s stop by a pharmacy or a convenience store for a medicine.”

You nodded your head as you blew your nose onto the tissue, resting your head back against the window as you closed your eyes to relieve the headache but you’re glad your sneezing fit stopped for a while.

“Hey, you didn’t answer my question back there” Jin reminded you.

“What question?” you asked with your eyes still closed.

“I asked you how you’ve been doing?” 

“Well, I’m okay except for now”,you pointed to your nose that had you both laughing, “No, but seriously, I’m doing just fine.”

Jin snorted, “Such a generic answer.”

“I think I've practically told you everything”, well you think you did with the amount of hours you’ve been talking and spending time  with each other since the past week.

“Everything?” 

Of course not.

You managed to ignore his question as you bite on your thumb, putting your attention to the scenery out of the window but your attention was soon diverted into something else when you felt something warm on top of your hand and to your surprise, it was because Jin placed his hand on top of yours as he tightly held it in his.

“You know, I've been meaning to thank you for being there with me, specially these days.”

You turned your hand upwards so that you could properly clasped it around his, squeezing it as you warmly smile at him, “Of course, that’s what friends do.”

Those words sounded bitter as it left your mouth but you need to remind yourself to keep yourself grounded, that being friends is as far as what you both can come to which is why you pulled back your hand from his, laying it to rest around your stomach as you turned back to look outside the window.

“Of course” Jin meekly said as he cleared his throat.

The air definitely felt awkward but not for long as Jin parked the car in front of the convenience store by a gasoline station. You opened the door to escape the suffocating silence and walked straight inside the store to get a bottle of water and a pack of decongestants by the counter.

“Drink it with some Vitamin C” Jin said as he appeared right beside you to stand with you in line, giving you a box of orange juice.

“Thanks, anything else you’d like to buy?” Jin shook his head no but changed his mind instantly when he saw the pack of gummies nearby. He was about to reach for it when he stopped midway to take out his phone from his pocket and you were able to get a glimpse that it’s a call coming from Nami again.

“I’ll wait for you outside” you nodded your head as you placed the items on the counter, getting the pack of gummies for Jin as you take a look right by the convex mirror to see him taking the call.

As you got the paper bag in your hand, you pulled the doors as you walk out of the store and you didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but you were able to make out the words ‘try again’ and ‘i love you’ for you to decipher that Jin took your advice and as ironic as it sounds, you can’t help but feel a twinge of pain.

In an instant, your ever rapid growing feeling of hope quickly deflated until it diminished and you think that this should be a sign that you seriously need to acknowledge for you to stop and move on. 

You stood idly outside of the door of his car as you waited for the doors to be unlocked but Jin’s too engrossed in the conversation for him to notice that you have already made your way outside  and you could hear your heart slowly crumbling as you heard more of their conversation.

“Sorry, i didn’t knew you came out already” Jin said as he pressed on his keys 

“It’s okay”, you said, opening the door but you hesitated for a bit as you watched Jin get in, buckling himself in, “I’ll go to the restroom first.”

You leave the paper bag onto your seat when Jin nodded at you, closing the door as you walk towards the direction of the bathroom, pursing your lips as you try to keep your emotions in bay.

As you opened the door of the restroom, you got inside a cubicle, locking it as you just stood there to stare at the back of the door as you felt all the emotions crashing all at once, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you dug the heels of your palm into your eyes.

You cannot cry just yet.

It’s making you frustrated how you’ve been trying so long for your feelings to let go only for it to resurface again and again and it hurts how this is the most painful slap of reality to you just when you thought that maybe, just maybe your hopes could be realized only for it to come crashing back down as always.

Overwhelmed with emotions, you let out a whimper as you let yourself cry a tear or two for only a moment as you still try to hold it in but your heart is broken and you’re done mending it every time by yourself but you’re also quite stupid for letting him have the power to break it.

Unlocking the door, you were immediately greeted with your reflection as you look back on yourself at how pathetic you are as you turn on the faucet to splash your face with some cold water.

You wiped your face with some tissue paper whilst still looking back at yourself, sliding your finger under the rim of your eyes to remove the evidence that you’ve just cried. You took a deep breath and checked to see if you look normal enough to go back inside the car.

You get yourself settled in right away as soon as you get in and thankfully, Jin didn’t notice anything different when he casually asked you if you’re good to go in to which you nodded your head. You take out the items out of the bag as you pop in the tablet of decongestant, downing them in an instant with the bottled water.

It was nice and quiet for a while as you sip on your orange juice as you let the side of your head rest against the window. You noticed on the reflection of the window how Jin would turn his head at you to take a glimpse right then and there, unsure what he’s been trying to do but before you could think of it too much, you felt your eyelids starting to get droopy from the drowsiness that probably is the effect from the medicine.

Next thing you know, you were woken up as you felt the car jolt only to realize that Jin ran through a speed bump without slowing down.

“Sorry” Jin apologized when he saw you rubbed your eyes from sleep.

“Weren’t you going to drop me off first?” you asked as you noticed the surroundings that look like to be the inside of Jin’s subdivision.

“Yeah but i forgot that i was supposed to give you the kimchi my mom made” Jin said as he parked the car in front of their house, “Do you want to go inside for a while?”

“I’ll just wait here” you yawned, stretching your arms. 

“Okay, I'll be quick” Jin smiled, ruffling your hair as he got off and closed the door whilst you watched him walk through their front walkway until he halted as if someone called him when he turned to look at his right with a quite surprised look.

Curious as well, you looked back to see that it was Nami who had just gotten out of her car as she rushed forward to envelope Jin in a soul crushing hug. It took almost a while for Jin to return the gesture, not expecting her presence tonight hence the reason why he looked over at you to give you an apologetic look.

You watch as Jin said something to Nami that had her looking over your direction. Jin left Nami to stand there for a while as he went to your side, opening the door to tell you something.

“Hey, maybe you should go inside for a while. I just need to talk to Nami and then i’ll take you home.”

“No, it’s okay. I could bike my way home” you said, feeling like you shouldn’t be here at all to witness this but it looks like Jin’s opposed to your suggestion as he blocked you before you could even step a foot outside the car.

“It’s late, I’ll drive you home, okay?” there’s no way Jin would let you win thus you obliged.

“Fine but can i just stay in here?”

Jin nodded with a worrisome look, “Sorry, i didn’t know she would come over.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I promise it’ll be just quick” you pushed Jin away playfully as you told him not to worry and go back to Nami who then offered you a warm smile once both of your eyes met.

As soon as Jin closed the doors, you watched as he ran up towards her, the forced smile you were showing now completely turned into a frown, making you look away as you try to look everywhere else except them so that you could keep your mess of emotions at bay.

Hold it in just a few more.

Heaving out a sigh, you took the last ounce of courage in you to look at them and concluded that maybe this is how it will always be and that some things just don’t go the way you would want them to - you can never be in the picture.

It has been four years but it isn’t too late for you to finally let him go.

As much as it hurts to think about it, this will be the last time that you’re letting yourself be with Jin and you truly mean it this time. It might be hard at first but you need to keep a distance in order to give yourself time to heal and you could hope he’d understand why you have to do this.

Loving someone who could never love you has always been dangerous in the first place as you find yourself in a never ending loop of anguish suffering and you could only truly let go when you take the courage and will to do it.

Letting go of someone doesn’t always end up with you losing them but just maybe you need to let go in order for you to handle yourself better and to be able to take a better hold of your own worth so you could stop holding on to something that’s not even meant for you to hold on to.

As you were able to wrap your head upon this realization, your eyes flickered towards the car’s side mirror where it perfectly showed you the street post that reads the name Daffodil Street that had you chuckling as you remembered it’s meaning once again but more so because of its other meaning you’ve come to learn recently that perfectly explains your predicament.

Daffodil symbolizes regard and chivalry. It is indicative of rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life.

Jin has told you the meaning behind this yellow flower countless times that you have memorized it by heart.

It’s such a funny thing how Daffodils look so bright with it’s yellow petals yet so dark with its other underlying meaning. Maybe Jin is unaware of the other meaning or he may have forgotten to say it to you but that doesn’t matter anyway as he made you feel it instead.

Daffodil also symbolizes unrequited love.

--

A/N: This work is inspired by the songs called fallingforyou by The 1975 and Someone That Loves you by Honne (ft. Izzy Bizu) which perfectly gives out unrequited love or mutual pining vibes. Hope you’ll like this!

[namjoonchronicles]

dissertation | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship 

↳ words 3.1k

↳ summary many people doubted your union, how exactly an artist with as much influence as yoongi be a husband to a wife that is still studying. 

↳ warning that side of adulthood, lockdown because of pandemic, mentions of anemia

↳ song kodaline ‘saving grace’

It was a thunderstorm that night, when Yoongi laid in bed alone. Face shone by the light on his phone and he was squinting to see the news article clearer. He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently-- a habit he had. He glanced at the time mark on the top right corner of his phone, then to your side of the bed that remained empty. It’s 2:34 AM. Rolling several times over the width of the bed, Yoongi set his foot on the floor and made his way out the opened door where the light from the hall was still on. The ash blue hallway hall, and the wooden floor that creaks under his weight would not guarantee a smooth entry, but his concern was that you might have fallen asleep on the desk, although this was highly unlikely. He just wanted to check.

Took a peek, through the door gap of your study room. Lights on, papers everywhere, whiteboard filled with medical jargons he doesn’t understand. Your laser focused eyes, glasses sliding down your nose, pen in between your lips and typing sounds filled the room. Your purple pencil case unzipped with its contents scattered, next to the coffee mug. And the calculator facing down. Your phone is close by although Yoongi predicts it to be in silent mode. As it had been, since 2010. That’s why you never answer his call the first time. And when you’re in this study mode, an airplane could land in the living room and you wouldn’t even notice. Heck, if he was talking to you in this state, you would look at him blindly and heard absolutely nothing he said. Yoongi knows too well. After the short peek that went unnoticed by you, Yoongi waddled to the kitchen and ran the coffee machine to start.

He scratches his temple while he ensures the machine begins working, then walks to the fridge. Yanks it open to see what is inside. Some old ripen kimchi, newer batch kimchi, some milk and apples. He ran his eyes through several more things and took out two apples. He bought this for your fibre intake. The last visit to the doctor, you were recommended to take more fibres in, as well as iron because you are still anemic. Despite the considerable diet change by Yoongi, the blood count doesn’t project the effort. It was then decided by the nutritionist and doctor, together, that you have to take pills as well as monthly checks while they send your blood result to the lab for thalassemia management, if diagnosed. Yoongi carefully ran the apples under the water, gently. He begins to peel the skin with a knife, and then, wedges them. He places them in the bowl and by then, the coffee has started to pour into the mug he had prepared underneath.

The blue light from the screen is making you pinch the bridge of your nose. Creases begin to form in between your brow as the numbers you obtained from the experiment did not become tally to the theory, suggesting a mechanical error. With the restriction order loosening up, going down to the lab is allowed, but you figured that many other post-graduate students might squabble for a time slot to use the lab.

“Should have calibrated the thing before I started the experiment,” you silently cursed underneath your breath.

Yoongi pushes the door open with his back and reveals a tray, scuffling and making a lot of noise. He set the bowl with apples and switched the cold coffee mug with a new piping hot one. Your whole face lights up.

“Why are you not asleep yet?” you sang. Eyes following him. “How can I sleep, when you’re suffering like this,” he said in a straight voice, almost emotionless, that makes it hard to believe that he was being affectionate. But that’s Yoongi for you. “There were apples in the fridge?” “Don’t lie, we bought them together… If I don’t wedge them out like this, you won’t even eat it,” he nags, “Did you even take the pills for today?” “I did,” you shoved one wedge in your mouth.

“Before or after the coffee?” He was standing next to you and your head was tilting back to see him. “Before,” you chuckled through your nose.

Yoongi turned his attention to your work.

“Is there still a lot to do?” He mutters, kneeling by the table next to your chair. You comfortably circled your arm around his neck from your chair and buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and nodding as a response to his question. He smells like bedsheets, you thought to yourself. Yoongi’s wedding band shone under the bright light of your study room, and as he is careful not to disturb your work, he couldn’t help but worry about your mental state. He knows just how much stress you could handle and even if you weren’t shy away from an extremely stressful situation, it is the first for this kind of work environment. You told him that the mindset of working from home is entirely different from the ones actually working in the work area. But he always reminds you that, you weren’t working from home, you are at home, working.

“I saw the numbers and I knew that it was tally with the theory we learned in lectures, and have been hammering my head on what went wrong, so I checked on my methods and it was all correct, so it must have been the machine,” you turned to the side to see the laptop, still clinging onto him. Yoongi turns to the side and plants a kiss on your hair, standing up slowly.

“What do we do?” Yoongi leans his hip on the desk and folded his arm, looking down at you who is by now, pouting, helplessly.

“Either I go back to the lab and redo the whole painstakingly slow experiment, or just write the whole report and blame it on the error, and thicken my skin when my doctor screams at me for incompetency to run experiments, and ruin my credibility for the rest of post graduate pharmacy faculty,” you shrugged sadly.

Yoongi pouts too, now.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he gathers your head and sandwiched your face between his hands and kisses the skin between your brows, while your hand slid down his hip then over his butt, before grabbing the butt cheeks, playfully. You watch his back grow smaller and smaller as he gets to the door, leaves a gap between the door and the door frame big enough for an ant to enter, and leaves you to your work. You turned sideways to the word documents you have, and then to the calculations on the board on the far left of the room, and just, let out a massive sigh.

Several times the alarm clock vibrates on the bedside table next to you, and your hand would swiftly grab them to snooze mode, every single time. That eventually stops when the heat from the duvet chases you out and when you realise that it was no longer noon, it was actually almost 3pm. Your head pounds immediately, and even then you were counting the hours you slept to see if it was appropriate. Eversince the lockdown began, your sleep schedules have become even more disorganized. Doctor said looking out the window would help, but walking outside once in a while to get groceries proves to be even more helpful than the former. Yoongi always gets the groceries because he usually cooks. Now that the lockdown has slowly lifted, Yoongi started to go to the company building to resume his work, but you’re stuck at home because the university recommended studying from home.

Apart from having to use the lab now and then, there is no need for you to constantly be at the university. Even the lectures are held online, and assignments are submitted through emails. Group work is discussed through video conferences. But you’re an old school gal who always preferred to have her notes printed so you could scribble over the things you needed to do, and it makes organising tasks a lot easier. Walking into the study room, you saw the printer not where you set them. In fact, it has its own table with rollers on them, the cables are hidden and neatly bound by the computer, ready for use. The overall set up is neat. It made you smile first thing in the day. Because you knew who had done it that way, and you wondered how he made all this--assembling the tiny table and putting rollers on it, so quietly, that you managed to sleep through it.

At the office, Yoongi was just leaving a small meeting room. He has his facemask down covering his chin as he sifted through the papers handed to him by one of his staffs. The staff is standing nearby to wait on his comments. Upon waiting the staff realises that Yoongi had a bandaid on his thumb.

“A minor accident today, nothing to worry about,” Yoongi shrug it off and quickly turned the attention away from him, “...I think it looks pretty good, try to proceed with it first, and show me how it sounds.”

“Through email or Kakao?” “Kakao, because I don’t have the laptop fixed yet and the ones at home are out of discussion,” Yoongi added a chuckle at the end, slapped the staff’s shoulder and excused himself, just when his phone vibrated an incoming message. And a photo, sent by his wife.

“Babe?” - wife

It reads. A photo followed. Of the perfectly set up study station of his wife.

Yoongi smiled and dug his tongue to his cheek, clamping his lower lips between his teeth. He types a reply while leaning to one side of the office wall, by the hallway. Crossing his ankles.

“You’re welcome. Study well~~ Also, we’re having takeouts tonight.” - yoongi

The message chimes in. A jar of cookies in arm, you were nibbling on one java chip cookie while unlocking your phone to read Yoongi’s message. That’s strange. Takeouts?

“But I can cook. And its weekdays.” - wife

”Nonsense. You pulled an all-nighter last night. We are having takeouts. There’s this good new restaurant the staff had been hyping. Think we should go there.” - yoongi

”Okay… whatever you say then. <3 - wife

Yoongi shoves his phone in his back pocket and walks down the hall to his studio. On the way there, he passes by Hoseok who was just leaving.

“Where are you off to?” “Getting lunch, want to go get lunch together?” “Sure.” “Namjoon is joining us too, I’m waiting for his reply.” “Great…you guys decided where?” “There’s a BBQ house I know that sells really good broiled chicken feet.”

Twenty minutes went by since the last text with Yoongi and you had been staring at the calculation on the whiteboard thinking about Krispy Kreme’s premium donuts. You wonder if the outlets are open, as they should be because the lockdown never closed businesses. Yoongi would know, you figured.

“Yeah they are opened, Why?” - yoongi

“I am craving for the ones with the KitKat on, I think my period is coming on soon…” - wife

“We can have that as desserts later no problem, I sent you lunch, and it should be there in 25 minutes. - yoongi

“Yay! What are you having?” - wife

“Broiled chicken feet with Hoseok and Joon.” - yoongi

”That’s not...what you got me… right? - wife

”Of course not, I got you Kimchi jjigae with tofu, and some kimbaps.” - yoongi

Phew. For as long as you’ve gotten married, not once have you doubted that Yoongi wouldn’t understand your palate. But he is quite a prankster sometimes. Even if he is not as savage as your inlaws are, to put strange food in front of your plate, there’s a certain degree of cheekiness of him at stake. You were a bit of a picky eater should it hit you at a specific time of the month. Sometimes you could eat chicken liver with minor problems, sometimes you would vomit at the thought of it. Yoongi had been dealing with the latter, quite a few times now. You have about 3 blister packs of anti-nausea pills at home just to cope with it. Acquaintances and distant relatives would insinuate that you were pregnant, but that isn’t the case. Doctor said it would be difficult to have a baby with your anemia uncontained, and you and Yoongi both would not risk having a child while you were struggling with it.

It is just not worth the while. The risks are too great. Malformed, cleft-lips, premature--the list of risks are endless. Let mommy take care of herself first.

Hoseok drove to the restaurant he was talking about. They got a room to themselves, abiding the social distancing rule with several chairs spread apart. When the food arrives, Yoongi could understand why Hoseok loved the chicken feet. It’s savory down to the bone. He picks the pickled yellow radish with his chopstick and devours it with a mouthful of rice. Hoseok began asking if Yoongi would consider taking his wife here. Namjoon was sitting there answering a call, and had to leave the room so the sound of the grills didn't distract him from the call. Yoongi downed a glass of chinese tea before answering with a groan.

“She doesn’t eat those things. Chicken feet, gizzards, those weird smelling things that don't go away even when you cook it properly…” “Don’t she have that thing, anemic? Anemia, the blood disease?” “Yea, she’s on pills treating that, and I’m also fixing her diet, but she is plunged with work so she takes in more coffee, so that would disrupt the pills function, I heard from the doctor. The woman is a caffeine addict, I don’t think she’ll slow down anytime soon, especially not now.” “I see. She is pretty stubborn…”

Hoseok suddenly burst out laughing, and the reason was, “I remember that one time she went on a full force rant on why you shouldn’t place the picture frame where it was, how did it go though? She went like, why is it on the far left of the light like that…”

Yoongi’s eyes quickly disappeared as his smile grew wider at the memory. He remembers that day so well. You both just moved into the apartment you are living in now and several arguments were brought out as the apartment progresses into a living space and more and more things come in.

“I was the man of the house,” Yoongi pauses and, “So we hang it the way she wanted.”

When Namjoon walked in, Hoseok was full-blown laughing.

“You honestly think I would win against her? She’s a fucking scientist… It’s her world, I’m just living in it, bro.”

Yoongi’s lips pursed as he took another meat into his mouth and chewed, with one knee propped up. The boys continued to talk about their future plans. The games they could watch and eventually, work and where they are heading next. Namjoon was visibly cornered by it all so they were working out balancing work and passion, and it’s usually a difficult thing to do. They were lucky to be loving the job that helps put food on the table. But love can turn to hate so easily. Along the way, one could hate it so much, one could consider leaving it. It would feel like a good choice at the time, but eventually, they will think about longevity, and what makes money. Which is the reality of living.

Yoongi’s whole world is music. And your whole world is science. Both are the opposite side of the same coin. Through the differences, there are many quarrels and conversation shoved under the rug for later days. It is never comprehensible why one would do such a thing, in the perspective of a stranger, but when you are in a relationship, tolerance is as important as communicating, and the two go hand-in-hand with each other. It is only in a relationship that you see someone whose upbringing is so completely different from yours, try to understand the way you were brought up and the values you grew up with, the same way you try to understand theirs. They could be the one who mindlessly folds the doormat messily after they leave the bathroom and doesn’t fix it. Or they could be the one who is passionate about feeding cats but never cleans up after the poos. Or you could be so rigid in your ways of doing things that you simply cannot be flexible.

Or walk the room with their hair dripping wet and leave trails of water droplets around the house. Or leave the dishes in the sink unwashed because it's ‘only one mug’. Or they could use the coffee machine without wiping away the spills that could attract ants. Or have aesthetics that are so different from the ones you like. Maybe they prefer a cupboard with its insides all showing, no doors. Or like to collect designer shoes that cost more than the things you deemed more necessary than that of shoes. Or they might leave their shoes unarranged at the front step and it might drive you crazy how they continuously do this even after countless times, reminded not to.

Or how he is so thoughtful enough to send you the KitKat premium donuts you mentioned just hours ago. Or how he carefully ensured that extra tofu is added in the kimchi jjigae because he knows you love them. Or how he has those printers set up so neatly without you worrying how messy it looks. He had the motion-detecting LED light installed on the balcony so you don’t have to turn on the lights when you want to walk outside. Or how he throws everything away when you say you need to talk. Sure he might fall asleep halfway. Sure he flips the doormats when he leaves the baths. Sure he left his one mug in the sink and went to bed without washing it.

But he also waits 20 minutes for you to get ready because you lost track of time, reading your reports and spotting the error in your datas. And he also smiles when you climbed into the car, with a heaving chest and sparred breaths. And he orders your favourites quite fluently, down to the preferences and drinks. And you might love the way he looks when he is literally just existing. There was no one else that looked so mesmerizing the way he does when he drives. Or when he eats, or when he was thinking, and listening.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t the flipping doormats or the one mug in the sink that became the issue. It was who would still want to hold you even after all these years, in complete darkness and in the brightest day. It was who would still feel you were worth their time, despite having only 24 hours in a day. It is the person you fell asleep thinking of, and woke up looking at.

.

.

.

.

You keep me strong when I can't carry on

When you lose your feet, fall down to your knees and your heart's about to break I will be your saving grace When your eyes can't see, take my eyes from me When you're lost and losing faith I will be your saving grace

Be my, be my, be my saving grace Won't you be my, be my, be my saving grace

.

.

.

copyright © 2020 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading 

[bethpeaches123]

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[aknosde]

Okay, you know earlier this week when I dropped a paragraph of a fic? I actually finished it, and the end isn’t the best so I’m posting it here and not on AO3.

Loneliness - (featuring my HoH Percy and Clarisse head cannons)

TW for attempted self harm and a generally bad mental space

Percy’s never really had a mentor. When he was young he was put in a few organizations as a mentee. The type of organizations that are supposed to make things easier on kids like him, brown and black kids with “authority problems”. They never really clicked though, sometimes it was him, a lot of the time it was the supposed mentor. He had never cared much, it’s not like they could help him in a way that mattered.

Then there was Luke. Luke who was tall and strong and quick and really, really, really good with a sword. Maybe some of it was a crush, but he had never met someone who he was so encapsulated by. Luke was cool, intelligent, and good looking. He was everything Percy ever wanted and ever wanted to be.

Luke left a bitter taste in Percy’s mouth and a scar on his hand and a distaste for soda. Luke left Percy with an even quicker brain and a knot in his stomach that turned into a murder plot for his stepfather. He drew Percy in time and time again with a hatred that was laced with unrequited love and left Annabeth with blood stains on her dagger and both of them with salt stains on their cheeks and the taste of ash on their tongues.

After Luke was Beckendorf. Granted Percy had had a bit of a crush on him too. Beckendorf was pure, not in the way some white campers might call Hazel innocent. He was just kind, and genuine, and warm. Percy looked up at Beckendorf, big, strong, brave, caring, and he thought this, this is something I could do. I might not be able to be a big hero, but I can do this. I want this.

Beckendorf left Percy with no body for the shroud to cover. He left Percy with inside jokes that would never again be completed and a desire in his brain to constantly be in the forges and to keep as far away from them as possible. Beckendorf left a hole in Percy’s heart that was filled by blood and guilt. Percy looks at the acid scars on his foot with a longing for the time when Beckendorf was taken by giant ants.

And after Beckendorf there was no one. Suddenly Percy was one of the oldest campers. A war veteran. Supposedly the strongest demigod alive. He wasn’t just a counselor now, of his cabin that was solely him, he was a senior counselor. Jake Mason sat in Beck’s seat and Percy cried because suddenly he was alone.

He shouldn’t feel alone. When Annabeth holds his hand while they wait for breakfast he shouldn’t feel alone. When Grover makes enchiladas in the kitchen of the Big House and they eat them together in a field Percy shouldn’t feel alone. When Nico comes running into Percy’s cabin telling Percy that Mythomagic is apparently run by demigods and that they made a card of Nico he shouldn’t feel alone.

It only gets worse when he’s back at home. His mom goes through their normal post-quest routine. She gives him time and space and love. She takes him to the doctor’s. His old prescriptions get refilled, adderall, meperidine. Sally tries again to find a demigod therapist, to no avail. They don’t celebrate his birthday this year.

He’s at Goode without Rachel and he has no other friends. He’s never really been good at that, the whole friend thing, and now it’s practically impossible finding someone who isn’t uneasy around him. He sits in the back of his physics class and eats alone at lunch and sleeps in Paul’s office during breaks.

A teacher hands him back an essay and there’s a paperclip in the corner keeping all the pages together. There is a B+ on it with a smiley face, and Percy takes the paper clip and sharpens it and tries to scratch his skin. It doesn’t do anything. His skin still won’t break, there is just a faint redness. Only after scratching away mindlessly for weeks does he realize that he’s writing words. Last words. “Go!” “Don’t let it happen again.” “Tell him I’m sorry.”

He can fill up his schedule with school and homework and swim and skating and basketball. He can wake up in the morning and eat breakfast and take adderall and carry around the other small orange bottle waiting for his skin to revolt against him. He feels disgusting and empty. Like a demon in a suit of skin that used to be Percy. He misses two years ago when the war wasn’t looming over head, when he and Annabeth and Silena and Beck would all hang out, when he and Clarisse had weekly midnight basketball games.

Grover knows. Grover’s gotta know. For one thing, there’s the empathy link. And Grover is calling multiple times a week, and he always asks how Percy is, if he’s alright. Percy lies “I’m all good man, don’t worry. How’s work?” Then Grover goes off on a tangent about pollution or some shit he saw a human do and the way he purses his lips when he’s worried doesn’t come back until they’re hanging up.

He hates it, the lying. He’s only told lies to protect others, when he doesn’t have enough information yet, when he needs to save them. Now he is lying for himself. How fucking selfish does he have to be? But he’s so lonely, and he can’t bare to lose anyone else. It feels like the smallest step out of line will make his world crumble.

So he lies. He lies his ass off, and he doesn’t know if he’s good at it, but he could be. When Annabeth comes over one weekend, all the way from California, and she asks about the pill bottle rattling in his pocket he says that it’s adderall and she turns back to the tv. When his mom asks if he’s made new friends he says yes, and proceeds to tell a mortal version of something that he and Beck did last year.

One day Rachel comes into the city to visit her parents. They’re sitting on a bench in Central Park and he takes the paperclip out of his coat pocket and goes to work on his wrist while they talk. It’s habit by now. Rachel stops in the middle of her sentence and gently pries the paperclip from his hands and in its place she leaves a blue eyeliner pencil.

Soon his arms are covered in names and words and horrifically beautiful drawings. Blue pigment against brown skin and pink scars, all swirling together. The pencil runs out quickly, but a week later, just as he’s about to take the paperclip back out, an envelope arrives. Sitting in the bottom is a new pencil of blue eyeliner. Percy throws the paperclip in the trash.

By Thanksgiving break Percy isn’t feeling good exactly, he’s feeling mildly better. Loneliness still hits him, in pangs. He’ll be walking to lunch and he’ll have to jump in the canoe lake because he can’t handle it, and swimming is a good excuse for missing a meal.

He wakes up early in the morning and sits in Rachel’s cave waiting for her to wake up. She makes hot chocolate and points out drawings she particularly likes, and then he’ll wash his arms off ready to begin again.

Days are filled with meetings. Meetings with Chiron and meetings with other counselors, trying to make up for being away at school. When he’s not in meetings he trains. Sometimes himself, but a lot of newer or younger campers. The disarming technique he teaches throws him back to Luke and he gives the campers a five minute break hoping the feeling leaves.  

Evenings are being tossed between one person and another. Racing up the climbing wall with Annabeth and laughing at the top and sitting there for way too long. Stopping by the Aphrodite cabin where Drew will catch him up on everything he’s missed being away or being busy. He sits on the floor of the Hades cabin trying for the fifth time to understand Mythomagic.

Every night since he’s gotten back Clarisse raps on his door at two in the morning and they play one v. one on the basketball court until they end up on their backs under the stars. There’s rarely any talking. It’s dark outside and Clarisse has left her hearing aids in her cabin and he’s left his back in Manhattan. Not like he ever uses them in public.

He’s still lonely. 

Maybe Clarisse can read his mind because she taps his leg and they sit up facing each other. He can just barely see her fingers in the moonlight.

“Sometimes people can be lonely not because they are alone but because they miss someone. You have a lot of people to miss.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” He signs back.

“Oh be quiet punk.”

They both break into laughter then, before she continues.

“Miss them. As much as you fucking want. I was in love with Silena, and she died, and Drew is a bitch about it, but she has a right to be.”

Percy is struck again by how similar he and Clarisse are, their lives and their feelings and their actions. The only difference is that Clarisse grants herself the freedom to do what she wants, and he’s scared to death of doing that himself.

“But, and do not ever tell anybody I told you this, a lot of people would miss you. You can pull away and feel lonely but you can’t disappear. Annabeth needs you, Rachel needs you, Nico and Will and Drew need you. And gods fucking dammit, I need you.”

Clarisse stands and pulls him up behind her. They part ways, heading back to their cabins. Percy mulls her words over in his head as he finally drifts into sleep, his body completely and utterly exhausted. Suddenly there is a blue-gold light, and he remembers Annabeth, and then everything is dark and there’s the smell of pine.

[greatfay]

since ur answering asks and shit can u explain what u meant by generational differences in communication

Damn it’s like 2015 tumblr when my inbox used to be WET. So if you’re talking about the controversial opinions post, YES, like I totally understand where people are coming from when they say that generational divides aren’t real (because they aren’t, they’re arbitrary) and distract us from real problems and yes they paint past generations as collectively bigoted when Civil Rights protestors in the 60s (who are in their 70s and 80s now) are mirrors to BLM protestors today, who could be of any age, but the most vocal and famous (at least online, especially irt to the founders, like Patrisse Cullors who is 37.

But how we communicate is sooooo different. I really point to the Internet and Social Media as a major influence in how younger millennials (more Tom Hollands and less Seth Rogans—see even there, I feel like there are two different types of Millennials) and Gen Zrs/Zoomers and even Generation Alpha behave and communicate. We live in a world where we grew up either knowing right out the gate or discovering the hard way that what we say and do has permanence, the kind of permanence that prior generations have never experienced until today. The dumb things kids have been saying since forever can now follow them... forever. We have an inherent understanding of how online spaces work. Compare that to, idk, let’s say you posted on your Facebook (for the first time in 18 months) “All these big and bad grown ass Senators going after actual child Greta Gerwig lol ok, you’re so brave for attacking a CHILD over climate change” and then your aunt, who’s turning “forty-fifteen” in May replies to your post with “So happy to see my passionate niece! Much love from us, hope you’re doing well. Paul is doing great, waiting on his screening results. Tell your mom I said we miss her, we need to get together, we forgive her for last Christmas.”

Like... ok there’s a lot going on there, but your hypothetical aunt is oversharing on a publicly accessible post. And even with the most strict of privacy settings, she’s oversharing where your other Facebook friends (which may include classmates, coworkers, etc.) can see. But she’s saying things that would only be appropriate in a 1-on-1 conversation. This Aunt doesn’t have an understanding of such boundaries, she’s not as technologically literate and hasn’t grown up in a world of Virtual Space, she still gets most of her news from TV, she trusts what a reporter on Channel 4 will read off a script more than what actual video footage of an incident might reveal on Twitter, and she has no clue that she’s been sharing her location data with every post she makes.

There’s such a huge difference. I think it even affects how we experience and express stress and frustration. I think growing up partially in online spaces has made me more accustomed to conflict and consequence-free arguing than someone who never had to worry about that. I’ve been exposed so much to harassment and bullying, triangulating and echo chambers in forums and threads, and vastly opposing point of views at such an early age that it’s had an effect on how I see the world. Compare this to a customer I helped two weeks ago who was looking for a specific type of supplement for children. I found it for her, I handed her exactly what she was looking for, even though her description of the product actually matched several different products; to make sure I’d done my job thoroughly and that she leaves happy and satisfied and doesn’t bother me again, I then show her more products that match her description so that she knows she has options. And she proceeds to freak out, saying “NO, NO, I’M LOOKING FOR [X] AND IT HAS TO BE [XYZ]” and when I say freak out, she looked stressed and PANICKED. And being a retail employee wears you down bit by bit, and add COVID on top of it and little shit like this makes you snap, sometimes. So I have to cut her off like “Why are you screaming and freaking out, jfc you’re holding what you said you wanted. It’s in your hands. I gave you what you wanted, I’m just showing you more things.”

That customer is not an exception, she’s not a unique case. She’s representative of a frightening percentage of her generation, the kids who watched Grease and The Breakfast Club and Ghost in theaters when they were originally released. This is how they communicate and process information. She could not, for some reason, register that her need had been fulfilled, and defaulted to an extreme emotional response when given new and different information.

I’ve yet to deal with someone younger than 35 act the same way, the exceptions being the kids of very wealthy people at my new job who reek of privilege I gag when they walk in—but even they are like *shrugs* “ok whatever” and understanding when there’s something I can’t do for them.

Me: “sorry, we are totally out of that one in your size, but I can order it for you, it’s 2-3 day shipping at no cost to you and we ship it straight to your house”

A rich, white, attractive 22-year-old who’s had access to organic food, a rigorous dermatologist, and financial security since she was born: “mmm... sure, I’ll order it”

A 47-year-old of any socioeconomic background, of any race, in the same situation: “AHHHHHHHHHHH”

I just think it’s crazy how three generations of kids and young adults raised in a world where everything moves so much faster, where knowledge and entertainment and communication can be gathered so much faster, are often so much more polite and patient and understanding. Yesterday I told an older man (mid-50s) whose native tongue is the same as mine, as clearly and succinct as possible, that what he’s looking for is “in aisle 4.” He proceeded to repeat back, “Aisle 7?” four time before I dropped everything to show him what he needed in aisle 4, despite his insistence that he didn’t need me to walk him there. 4 and 7 sound nothing alike in English. There’s just something going on up there 🧠 that’s different.

Oh, other generational divides!!! We have different approaches to labor and working. Totally different! I’m a “young” millennial where I’m almost Gen Z, and I’ve noticed an awful trend among my demographic where people actually brag about working 90 hour work weeks. Or brag about how they skip breaks and live on-call to get the job done for “the hustle” like this “hustle, become a millionaire by 30″ culture that’s dominated these kids, idk where tf that came from. Like why are you proud of being a wage slave, getting taken advantage of by your millionaire/billionaire overlords. Compare this to my mother’s generation (she’s a borderline Genius X’er, she and her best friend were a year too young to watch Grease when it came out and had a random older woman buy tickets for her; she went to Prince concerts, took photos of him, then sold the photos on buttons at school, that’s her culture and teenage experience), where she’s insistent on her rights and entitlements as an employee, and these things she instilled me: “whatchu mean they didn’t schedule a break for you and you’re working 12 hrs today? oh no, you’re off, don’t answer your phone cuz you are NOT available!” There are Gen X’ers who entered the workforce at a time that America was drifting toward this corporate world, with more strictly defined regulations, roles, and understandings of labor rights (and also, let’s talk about how the 80s there was so much more attention on workplace harassment, misogyny and gender divides in wage gaps, etc. etc... not that much has changed, but at least it was talked about!). There are young people today who are taken advantage of because they aren’t as informed or don’t feel as secure and valuable enough to claim what belongs to them.

At the same time, those generations (Gen X and older) have a different viewpoint of hierarchies in the workplace and respect irt our direct supervisors. That’s how you get this blurring of boundaries between Work Life and one’s Personal Life that leads to common tropes in media written by their generations, where oh no! I’m having my boss over for dinner and the roast beef is still defrosting :O is such a “relatable thing” for them... meanwhile us younger generations are like I don’t even like that you know where I live, and if I see your 2017 Honda Civic pass my place one day, we’re going to have a problem. I think older generations have a different relationship with the word “Respect” than we do. Like, my grandma, who’s turning 87 (?) this year, and the other seniors in my area, they have a different concept of honor and an expectation of professional boundaries that I, and my mom and her generation, just don’t see (so then there’s something in common with Gen X’ers and the rest of us.) My dad grew up in a world where talking and acting like George Bailey and knocking on someone’s door with a big smile could get you a job, a job that could pay for college and rent no problem. My mom grew up in a world that demanded more prestige, where cover letters and references could get you into some cushy jobs if you’re persistent and ballsy enough. And I grew up in a world where potential employers literally don’t see your face when you apply unless they lurk on any social media profiles you have publicly available and they hold all the cards, and you need all those CVs and reference letters just to make minimum wage... so I feel like I am powerless in the face of such employers.

[jincherie]

moon magic | jhs

✩ — pairing: hoseok x reader ✩ — genre: mermaid au, pirate au, magic au, fluff ✩ — words: 33.8k+ (a part of me died. this is a horcrux now) ✩ — rating: sfw ✩ — warnings: uh minor dismemberment (a hand, belonging to a bad guy), otherwise its kind of just soft and gooey and magical... lord help me ✩ — notes: very very very VERY VERY LATE birthday fic for miss @readyplayerhobi !!! i’m so sorry it’s so late tali !!! and so sorry it’s such a monster, this was meant to be around 20k max and here i am completely out of control and barely sane kjfnldkffljdb i hope its not too disappointing!! (also fair warning; i didnt get to completely finish skimming this so some typos may be present dnjhbg)

You've never paid much mind to the moon, but you quickly learn that even though you've never really thought of the her, she has always watched over you. What better to heal an grieving heart, than the luminous, rippling magic of the moon? And maybe a merman, or two. You know, for good measure.

— posted; 13.07.2019

In all honesty, you’ve never really paid much mind to the moon.

It is something that is ever-present— yet also something that can wax, illuminating the earth beneath its majesty, and wane, robbing the skies of the orb that bathes the landscape in a silver glow. To the normal civilian, the moon is likely a symbol of beauty and the unknown, or perhaps just something the odd commoner didn’t spare even a second thought. You don’t normally pay much mind to the moon, except to admire it. You don’t think you’ve ever held the silver sun in any sort of contempt, until now, that is. The moon is decidedly bright tonight, which under other circumstances might normally make you smile, but actually serves to be more of an inconvenience on this eve in particular than anything.

It’s awfully hard to slink through the night and assassinate someone when the moon eliminates the security and comfort that the usual deep shadows the night-time hours provide, after all.

You admit that as far as assassination attempts go, this one is pretty poorly timed. You’re not entirely to blame though—this wasn’t your first choice by far. You like to think you’re a bit more conniving than that. No, your carefully plotted and thought-out schemes were suddenly pushed way ahead of schedule only yesterday when, to your complete and utter alarm, the subject of those plots and schemes was reported to be only a town away down the coastline. You’re quick on your feet, and you knew immediately upon hearing it that this meant the despicable Pirate Lord you’ve been tracking for the better half of your adult life would be passing the town you’re residing in within the next day. You were right, as expected, and had proven yourself unable to resist the opportunity that had presented itself so easily and readily to you. You expected to spend many months more tracking the elusive pirate, but he’s gone and sailed right into your waiting arms! It’s as though the universe is giving you the go-ahead, and you can’t even think of resisting the temptation of this golden opportunity when the thing you’ve wanted most since you were a mere seventeen years old is so close, so near your greedy clutches.

So, you decided after minimal deliberation that come nightfall the next day, you were going to head out and embark on your long-awaited goal to kill the Pirate Lord Ezra. Hence, here you are, currently trying to sleuth through the night and fulfil a desire for revenge that has had years to simmer, bubble and brew into something ugly and all-consuming to its core. You aren’t proud of the way the anger and hate has clung so firmly to the root of your being all these years, but at this point… you don’t really have anything else to live for. If you weren’t living your life planning this act of vengeance, then what would you be doing?

The reason you spent years plotting and perfecting the best way to fulfil this burning need for revenge, was because the initial act that incurred your wrath cost you your family. You have no one, and if you don’t cling to this and let it bind your being together, then what is stopping you from crumbling to dust and floating to the abyss? You don’t want to ponder it and don’t often entertain the thought, because the answer…

The answer is nothing, and that is exactly why you are here—scaling the side of the large, looming ship that belonged to the pirate that had wronged you so.

Pirate Lord Ezra. He isn’t what one would call haphazard, or aimlessly bloodthirsty. He kills, pillages and steals, like any respectable pirate, but each and every act he performs is done so with the utmost care and cold, ruthless calculation. He isn’t the most intelligent being you’ve ever encountered, but he is conniving, and crafty, and more than capable of getting himself out of sticky situations no matter how dire. It was how he’d managed to live so long even as a wanted criminal, after all.

But, you suppose in his old age he has begun to grow… careless.

You met no resistance or obstacle earlier as you rowed to the location where he was reported to be—you’d taken the time to paint your small craft so that it matched the night and sea—and you meet no obstacle now, as you grip the thick, coarse ropes that sling over the top of the bulwarks and hang heavily down the sides of the ship. You have to admit, it is a beautiful ship—you almost feel sorry for the plans you have in store for it.

The weight of the daggers fastened to your sides ground you in a sense, the cool of their metal permeating through your worn pants to keep your thoughts rooted in the present moment. This is happening, you’re finally doing this, the moment you’ve waited so long for is finally here. You can hardly believe it, yet you’re already so far into the execution of your plans that you don’t have time to stop and process it.

Were you not wearing the leather gloves you’d slipped on earlier, your hands would probably be throbbing and grazed from the coarse, sea-salt ridden ropes by now. You never really realised just how massive these ships were until you got up close and personal with them, and now as you’re scaling up the side of one it seems endless in its looming height. Even so, it isn’t long before you near the top of the ship’s side, having long since passed the closed windows where canons peaked through in the midst of battle. The sea is calm and the gentle rocking of the ship is easy to get accustomed to—soon your body moves in harmony with rolling of the waves. You think perhaps you’re a little too good at this ‘sneaking onto a pirate ship in the middle of the night’ thing.

You freeze barely a metre from the top, the sound of rough voices and hoarse, deep chuckles stilling your blood in your veins. A few of the crewmen moving past, likely on their rounds. You take the moment to think things through—you were hoping that most of the crew would be asleep and you’d be able to slip on board with no problem, but now that you think about it… you might have been a bit naïve to think that there wouldn’t be many pirates skulking across the deck. Glancing down, you get an idea of how to proceed. To the side, at a slightly different level to the line of canon openings, is a set of windows at varying heights. You absolutely despise the man, but you had to give the Pirate Lord some credit—the ship was impressive in its absolute size and majesty.

Thinking quick, you decide the best way in from now would be to slip in through one of those windows. From what you can see, the one closest to you is somewhat ajar, no doubt to let the cool sea breeze in. Moving as fast as you can while still remaining unnoticed, you shift to the window and peak in. It seems to be a restroom of sorts, small in size and containing several buckets and a jug. In all honesty, this room is dusty and grimy and doesn’t seem like it’s received much attention in the past few, well… years. Considering that they’re pirates though, you’re not really all that surprised at the discovery of their lax hygiene habits.

After watching for a moment to be sure no one is wondering into the room anytime soon, you ease the window open, wary of any rusty hinges, before shifting your body and using muscles you didn’t even know you had to slip in through the opening. Your feet touch the floor with a soft thud and a creak, the wood clearly unused to having any weight on it. You remain stock still for a moment, doubting that that soft noise was enough to wake a bunch of drunken pirates, but still cautious nonetheless. When it becomes clear that you’re not about to be discovered any time soon, you ease your way with careful steps to the door of the room and embark on the second phase of your mission.

Find the Pirate Lord.

You’re not sure how many rooms you slip into and search in the quiet of night as you attempt to locate the heinous man so worthy of your despise, but you’re quick to find out that it’s a lot. This ship is even bigger than you anticipated on the inside, and built like a maze beneath the deck. You know from stories that the captain doesn’t sleep in the usual quarters above the deck, but haven’t been able to discern through rumours or otherwise where exactly it was that he did sleep.

Silent as the night, you slip through hall after hall, peering into each room you’re able. You meld to the walls and sink into the shadows whenever voices grow too near, and the one time a pirate stumbles drunkenly past you in the hall he doesn’t even see you—in fact, you’re pretty sure he’s walking with his eyes closed. Fortunate for you, but unfortunate for him if he ends up walking into something. He disappears around the corner a moment later and you barely have time to let out your breath before there’s a loud thunk and grunt of pain from that direction, followed by a long string of grumbled, slurred curses. Well, it seems he did run into something after all. You wait until you hear his footsteps fade completely before you move once more.

With each new room you search that yields no results, you grow a little more frustrated. It’s as though the Pirate Lord isn’t even here, on his own ship. Where could he be? You feel like you’ve mapped out every single room possible beneath the creaking wood of the deck. Somewhat on edge and increasingly frustrated, you have to consciously soften your steps from their instinctive stomp as you turn down another hall. You barely get three feet down before a sound crosses your ears that gives you pause. Was that… splashing?

Of course it seems ridiculous that you’d be confused about the sound of water when you’re on a pirate ship in the ocean, but at this point you’ve delved so deep into the bowels of the ship that you shouldn’t be able to hear anything like splashing or waves. Confused, you sneak closer to the origins of the sound—a single door at the end of the hall. Strangely enough, there aren’t any other doors on either side as you shift quietly down. Definitely strange, but not your biggest concern at the moment.

You’re scarcely a few feet from the door when the splashing sounds again, and this time it rings distinctly like water sloshing against the edge of a container, like a tub. You pause, fighting the embarrassed heat that tries to colour your cheeks. You don’t know whether to be more surprised that one of the pirates is likely bathing behind these doors or at the fact you’d managed to happen upon them while they were.

You’re ready to dismiss it and flee, return to your original objective, when another sound leaks through the cracks in the door and your heart skips a beat in surprise. A whimper, like someone is in pain. A fresh barrage of thoughts flood your mind suddenly as you stand in place, conflicted. What if it’s a prisoner? What if it is someone innocent behind those doors, hurt and maybe even dying? You know you won’t be able to live with yourself if you leave without checking, the guilt will eat you alive.

With a resigned sigh, you approach the door and place your hand over the rusty handle, attempting to turn it slowly. It creaks ever so slightly, but doesn’t move far. Locked. Grumbling softly to yourself and checking behind you to make sure no one snuck up on you in your momentary lapse of concentration, you pull out the little kit you made for such an occasion and get to work picking the lock with the tiny instruments.

You’re pretty good at what you do, and so it isn’t long before you hear the soft, tell-tale click that lets you know the door is now unlocked and free to open. You check the coast is clear behind you once more before placing your hand on the handle again and twisting softly. It creaks as it did last time, but there is no resistance as you manage to open the door successfully. You hear your heart beat loudly against your eardrum for a moment as the wood swings open and you step inside.

You don’t make it past two steps before you freeze in place, the breath whooshing out of your lungs and your eyes shooting wide.

The room is lit dimly by an oil lantern hanging from the ceiling, yet the soft glow it offers is more than enough for you to see the entirety of what the room holds.

Gold. Piles and piles of gold. Coins and trinkets, goblets, jewellery—there is so much gold that glimmers in the low light you almost don’t know how to process it. The room is full of it, the piles reaching the ceiling in some places. Other precious items litter the floor, buried in the mounds of coins and treasures. Some statues, jewel-encrusted boxes, the like. Briefly, you are reminded of a dragon’s hoard. This… you’ve stumbled into the treasure room of the great Pirate Lord Ezra.

And right smack bang in the middle of it is something you never thought you would ever see with your own two eyes.

A tub, as you suspected, full of water sits in the midst of the treasure. And inside the tub lays a man, head lolling in unconsciousness as his body sways with the water and the rocking of the ship, chained to the wall, the iron links thick and heavy where they wind around his wrists and forearms. His upper body is human where it enters the water, but where it leaves there is a long, glimmering tail in place of where there should be legs. A merman. You can hardly catch your breath, the shock almost enough to knock you off your feet. You came here to assassinate a pirate and instead stumbled upon his captive merman. This mission has gone so awry you don’t know if you can even recover it.

But as you take a moment to peer at the creature, registering his appearance, you realise the answer. You can’t return to your original goal in this venture. The merman before you is beautiful; his face and torso are an ideal sculptors can only dream of achieving in their creations, and his tail is completely and utterly mesmerising with the way the scales shift and glimmer different colours despite an inky undertone, not unlike an oil slick. Yet despite this, his cheeks are gaunt and skin pallid and sallow, littered with bruises and patches of rawness. He’s thin, and you can see deep maroon blood trickling from where the chains bite into his wrists and have rubbed them raw.

You don’t have words for the roiling combination of horror, shock, and complete and utter sadness that sinks deep within you at the realisation that what you’ve just discovered is real and you’re standing here, facing it. The poor creature, chained and left to perish as nothing more than a trophy.

This, the sight before you and the feelings now running rampant within you, is why you cannot turn away and resume your original goal.

A part of you is disappointed and upset that you won’t get to kill the man who killed your family like you intended, but right now you want nothing more than to free this creature. You’ll get another chance, you reassure yourself. Even if it takes another eleven years to track him down you’ll find him eventually, and you’ll be able to sleep better knowing you freed this merman along the way.

Once you’re firm in your resolve, you take the steps necessary to bridge the gap between you and the creature, gaze sweeping over his form. The end of his tail is exposed to the air, and you notice it appears incredibly dehydrated—the long, wispy fins that trail along the sides and flare from the bottom are pinched and shrivelled, twitching every so often. You wonder for a moment why he hasn’t splashed water over his tail to keep it hydrated but quickly realise that with the way his hands and arms are bound that he can’t, and the tub is too tiny to fit the long, draping expanse of his tail in.

You decide that first thing’s first, you need to get him in a better state than what he is currently. You reach into the water, cupping a generous amount in your hands, and begin to pour it over the parts of his tail and anatomy that aren’t currently submerged. The result is instantaneous—the wispy fins that had pinched and curled up unfurled the second they touched the water, his skin and scales appearing to soak up the fluid greedily. You distantly register the way his breath stutters, picking up slightly in an uneven manner, and figure that he’s probably going to wake soon. You continue wetting the rest of his form until you’re satisfied, at which point you turn back to face him.

And promptly nearly scream in fright because when you look to him, he is already looking at you.

Your fight or flight response doesn’t remain in gear, however, because the poor creature looks absolutely terrified as he watches you, eyes already glistening. You don’t know if mercreatures can cry and you don’t want to find out—you hurry to soothe him, feeling terrible that he’s experienced such horror that this is the first reaction he gives upon seeing you.

“Woah, hey I’m sorry! It’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you.” Your hands are up and you speak softly if a little quickly. You don’t need him to scream or anything and you don’t want to be loud enough yourself to catch anyone’s attention. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’m…”

You swallow, disarmed for a moment at the way his large, dark eyes are holding yours. “I’m going to help get you out of here.”

You’re unsure if he understands what you say, but something in his gaze shifts nonetheless. Acceptance, you realise, as some of the tension in his shoulders leaves and he sags back against the wall of the tub, visibly exhausted. You realise upon gazing at his face that you’ve wet everywhere else but there—his lips, shapely with a natural downturned pout, are cracked and dry, the skin of his face appearing rough and slightly raw near his hairline and under his jaw.

Nervous now that he’s awake while you’re doing this, you cup some more water in your hands. He watches the movement like a hawk, shifting slightly.

“Close your eyes, please,” you tell him softly, despite the fact the salty water probably won’t hurt his eyes as it does yours. He blinks at you, yet despite the oddity of your request he does so anyway.

You lift your hands and part them over his head, allowing the water to flow down his face and over the rest of his skull. The inky curls atop his scalp soak up the water greedily, twirling strands sticking to his forehead as the water plasters them to his skin. The second the cool fluid touches him he takes in a shaky, sharp inhale, lashes fluttering as droplets tickle them. You repeat the motion a few more times, cupping water in your hands separately and releasing it over the tender-looking areas over the sides of his face. You wet your hand and retrieve more water to brush over the raw patches near his hairline and under his jaw, and can’t help but gasp when the second they’re soaked in the fluid little scales shimmy to the surface, embedded in the skin. Another glance to the rest of his body reveals the same thing has happened in some areas on his human parts, the dark scales appearing in a patch at the outer corners of his eyes and making them appear dramatic and elongated. A glance to the floor where similar scales litter the wood near your feet and you realise they must have dried and shed, falling off when they weren’t kept wet.

You don’t realise you’re cupping his face in your palm still as you ponder until you feel soft lashes brush your thumb. You look up in surprise to catch him peering at you once more. Cheeks hot, you retract your hand and clear your throat nervously.

“Right,” you say, more for your benefit than his. “Now you look a little less like you’re dying, lets get you out of those chains, huh?”

He doesn’t say anything, but an eager glint slips into his deep brown eyes and he wriggles, shifting anxiously. You rise from where you were crouched, thighs and knees protesting greatly, and let out a slight pained grunt as you peer over at the chains.

They’re not wrapped that complicatedly, you realise, it’s just that they’re thick and heavy and there’s a few of them there. You reach forward, catching the end of one in your hand, and pull it out of a loop it was threaded through, the links brushing his arm as you do so. A hiss from below you startles you mid-motion—you glance down to see an expression of pain on the merman’s face, and return your eyes to his arm as realisation washes over you along with immediate guilt. Where the iron links brushed his skin there are now red welts, as thought it burned him upon contact. Oddly enough, the idea isn’t that foreign to you—iron is meant to ward off faeries in legends, isn’t it? You’re not surprised that another kind of ‘magical’ creature is repelled by it as well.

“Sorry,” you whisper, and you mean it. From then on you unwind the chains with the utmost care, making sure you don’t touch him with them more than necessary.

It takes a bit longer than you would like, but eventually you get his arms and wrists free of the wretched chains. The male is sagged against the side of the tub, his arms and wrists submerged in the water. You watch, fascinated, as the fluid seems to kickstart their healing—the open wounds begin to stitch back together and the red welts begin to lessen in their intensity. You allow him a few moments more to recover before you speak.

“I’m going to get you out,” you say to him, meeting his gaze as his eyes flutter open. “But we need to go now. The longer we’re here, the riskier it is and the harder it will be to get away. Are you ready?”

The male seems a little conflicted, somewhat at a loss, and you realise it’s probably because from the looks of it he’d been here long enough that he’d probably come to terms with dying here. Nonetheless, a resolved expression filters across his features and he nods in response. You offer him a smile.

“Alright. I’ll have to lift you and carry you, but first…”

If you’re going to be tracking the pirate for even more years to come after this, you’re going to need resources. You grab a big handful of gold coins and slip them into a small, secure pouch at your waist. That ought to do you for a while.

The merman seems somewhat amused as you turn back to him, and you have the presence of mind to be a little sheepish. “What? I’m going to find a better use for it than he will.”

The merman has the nerve to roll his eyes and you sputter for a moment before the creaking of the ceiling splits the air and the two of you freeze. A detached sort of panic sinks into your abdomen, a sense of renewed urgency filling your bones, and you turn to the merman once more. “Alright, time to go.”

Getting him out of the tub isn’t a struggle, but finding the optimal position to hold him in is. He’s not all that heavy in his current state but he is slippery, so you need to utilise his grip in combination with your own. He ends up with his arms looped around your neck in an abridged sort of piggy-back. He doesn’t have legs to put either side of your waist so it’s just his tail that ducks under one arm and winds around your waist like a coil. You had no idea that the limb had that kind of flexibility and now that you know you have no idea what to do with the information.

Surprisingly, navigating out of the hallway you’re in is easier than the time you had finding it (by accident, that is). Hall by hall, corner by corner, your hands are full both figuratively and literally with the merman and both making sure he’s not drying out too quickly and you’re not running into any unwelcome characters. You realise soon into your departure that the only way you will be able to free the merman properly is from the deck—trying to find a room with windows like the one you came in from will take too long and run a greater risk. No, better to run upstairs and leap overboard before they can think twice.

The heavens appear to be smiling upon you, as it doesn’t take long at all before you stumble across the main staircase that leads to the top of the deck. You freeze at the base, taking a moment to steel yourself. This night has taken a turn you didn’t expect in the least but now you just… you just have to go with it. Another shaky inhale, you become aware of the merman’s soft pants against your neck, the sound somewhat laboured. Right. You don’t have time to spare dillydallying, you don’t want the merman to arrive at death’s door for the second time in one night. You shift, making sure the dagger against your thigh is ready and accessible before you bite the bullet and dart up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

It is eerily silent, and you should have been more suspicious but you couldn’t focus on anything but getting out of here. It proves to be a slight downfall for you.

The second you breach the deck, you’re made aware of the fact that you aren’t alone—pirates are scattered around, some drinking others performing typical seafaring tasks, and you have all of about two seconds before they see you and register your presence. The second you turn to dash to the side of the ship, you’re spotted.

“What? Oi! Who the hell are you?! Stop right there!”

Instantly, you’re in the open and a clear target. There are a few shocked shouts at the sight of what you’re carrying, but you tune it all out as you dart for the side, legs burning from the effort.

“Oi, that’s the captain’s treasure—STOP HER!”

You swing the merman around your body, setting him on the railing, and offer him an apologetic look as you bid him good bye. His eyes are wide and scared as you speak in a rush, “It was nice meeting you. Get as far away as you can, alright?”

You don’t wait for him to nod. You place your hands on his chest and hip and with a great heave you push him off the railing, over the side of the ship. His tail and fins whip in the air after him before disappearing from view. Barely a second later does the loud splash of his body entering the water greet you and you almost let out a sigh of relief—

Except there’s suddenly a loud, deafening BANG from behind you and the wood near your hand is splintering, shards flying into the air from the impact of the bullet. You jerk back instantly, remembering where you are just in time to dodge the swing aimed at you by a pirate with a nasty beard and a hanging gut. He lets out an angry growl and lunges for you again with the large, curved sword clenched in his meaty fist. Your eyes dart around, looking for a quick escape.

You spy a bottle to the side, a haphazard plan forming in your mind as you see a torch hanging not too far from your head. You have barely seconds to think this through and act as more pirate lurch forward and you dodge, leg kicking out and knocking the bottle to the deck. It smashes upon impact, rum spilling and soaking into the boards, and a sick sense of glee tickles your ribs as you rip your dagger from your thigh and leap up, just barely managing to dislodge the torch and send it tumbling down.

The pirates roar in rage and panic as the second the open flame touches the ground it sparks and flares, barely a split-second passing before larger flames begin to lick and devour the wood of the deck.

“You wench!”

“You’re going to get it, girlie!”

You bite back a scream as another pirate lunges for you, tall and skinny but somewhat uncoordinated. The tip of his sword grazes your arm and at the sting you can’t help but yelp. You’re surrounded by furious pirates, all of which much more experienced and stronger than you. Cutthroats. You refuse to let this be how you die, not when you have unresolved business here.

You’re not good at combat, so when the pirates come at you one by one you dodge like hell. Your scrambling knocks several more bottles to the ground and fortuitously, they feed the ravenous flames that begin to spread along the deck and lick at the base of the main mast. Your little dagger is doing nothing to help you here, meant for stealth and assassination rather than hands on combat. Your eyes rake the scene for something, anything you can grab to defend yourself better.

There. To the other side of the deck, a barrel resting against the railings. You can see steel and fabric-wrapped handles peaking from within, and without thinking the second you see an opening you dart for it.

“Someone get the cap’n!”

“No need. Insolent girl.”

You’re intercepted right before the barrel as the sound of the baritone freezes your blood in your veins, terror curdling your insides. You can’t breathe for a moment but a moment is all that’s needed for a large hand to grab you by the collar and haul you into the air.

The deck of his ship is steadily going up in flames behind him, something that should overjoy you, yet it only serves to feed the absolute fear and horror crashing around in your abdomen. Pirate Lord Ezra, a hulking giant of a man, holds you in the air, a few feet from the ground, as easily as if he were holding a kitten by the scruff of its neck. The material of your collar cuts into your throat, breath becoming short and panicked as you’re suddenly faced with the man of your nightmares.

You’d come here to kill him, to slit his throat without mercy, but now, confronted with the furious snarl curling his lips and the promise of a gruesome death in his beady eyes—you’re suddenly forced to the realisation of how completely and utterly unprepared you are. Gold glints at you as he flashes his teeth, coarse beard threaded with beads and silver, as is the wild, inky mane that flares from his broad skull. His breath reeks of an indiscernible alcohol and the thick hand gripping your collar is covered in rings and jewels. His presence is overwhelming and you will always be enraged by his existence but right now, more than anything, you’re terrified.

The Pirate Lord absolutely bellows his laughter when you attempt to struggle, legs kicking. “Don’t try it, girlie. You’re not going anywhere. You think the punishment is going to be light for stealing from me, from my personal treasure room, and setting my ship on fire? How foolish of you.”

You try and calm your panicked breaths enough to just think, very aware that if you’re going to get away you have to do something in the next few seconds. The deck is beginning to disappear beneath smoke and flames, the fire about to spread too far to be stopped, and the grip on your collar tightens. Some of his crew scramble to put out the flames and the rest remain surrounding you. The only side not barred by leering pirates is your right, where the railing and the inky expanse of the ocean await you.

“You bastard,” you spit, seething despite your terror, and attempt to lash and kick him. The pirate seems a cross between enraged and humoured as he dodges with ease.

“Oh the heavens have blessed us today, ‘ave they? The ones with some fight‘re always the most fun to break,” the pirate leers, pulling you closer. You panic for a second before you remember the item in your hold and, at a loss for how else to escape this situation, decide to pull a hail Mary and just fucking go for it.

“Fuck you!” you curse him with all the venom you can muster, and then you whip your arm up. The dagger in your hold embeds itself in his forearm and with a roar his hand releases its grip, dropping you to the ground. You’re dazed for the split-second you hit the ground, but lurch to your feet immediately.

He roars and spits in rage; you hear the sound of the dagger clattering to the ground as you turn to the barrel. You can tell, can feel he’s going to reach for you with his good hand, and in a fit of adrenaline-fuelled terror you grasp the handle sticking out the most and pull it out in one smooth movement.

The next few things happen very quickly. The pirate curses at you as you turn on your heel, reaching for you as expected. His hand grows closer than you anticipate and you panic, your arm raising as you complete your turn then swinging down with all the strength you can muster. You watch, eyes wide, as the curved blade comes down in a perfect arc right where the base of the pirate’s hand melts into his forearm. The steel sinks into his wrist so easily you’re almost nauseated, the blade catching only barely on the bone before continuing through the flesh and severing it completely. There’s a half-beat of stillness in the air before his dismembered hand drops to the wooden deck  with a heavy thud and then the pirate lord is releasing a deep, strangled scream of pain, voice abrasive and coarse against your eardrums. The crew surrounding you exclaim and shout in shock, and you realise that if you’re going to flee it’s got to be now or never. You throw the sword away, turning as you do so, and scramble onto the thick railing.

You rake in a big breath and then you’re leaping forward, bringing your arms together above you as you dive down to the inky depths. Moonlight chases your form as you break the surface, the water washing over you like liquid ice. When you resurface, gasping for air, it’s to a world aglow with silver moonlight and blazing flames. The fire spread much more than you anticipated, and you watch as various items are thrown overboard in the chaos atop the deck. You keep low, only your head bobbing just above water in case they’re looking for you. Your limbs begin to tire quickly from treading water though, and you ache to let them rest. You look around, but the small boat you’d taken here is nowhere to be found. As the ship turns in its path, sailing in a blaze away from where you are, you allow yourself to swim away while seeking something to cling onto.

Perhaps the heavens are smiling upon you, you think as you catch sight of a large crate and barrel floating none too far from where you are. There is a length of rope tied around the barrel that is floating along the surface of the water, and in a momentary stroke of genius you use it to fasten the two items together.

There you go. A makeshift raft and your only floatation device for the time being.

After hauling yourself out of the water and onto the two items as well as you can considering their unstable floating nature, you take a moment to look around more than you did before. A sense of horror begins to sink into your bones as you realise, belatedly that you don’t recognise where you are and you don’t see any land nearby. You feel like an idiot—they must have pulled the anchor and left while you were on board. You have no idea which direction they went from the coastline, and therefore no idea where to go from here—not that you’d be making much headway with only your legs and arms for propulsion. Well… at least you freed that merman.

You flop back against the makeshift raft, glaring at the sky and pretending the wetness dripping down your cheeks is seawater and not tears. The chattering of your teeth and harsh nip of the air against your soaked form is another thing you ignore. You have such a mixture of emotions inside you that you have no idea how to even begin to unpack. It’s an acidic cocktail that climbs your oesophagus, burning your nose and behind your eyes. You don’t regret freeing the merman at all, but as the knowledge that you’ve lost the trail of the pirate king again and won’t have another opportunity like tonight for god knows how long sinks in, you feel a pit of hopelessness and despair opening up inside you. And deep within the pit, anger begins to bubble—at yourself, and the pirate king, hell even the moon. What did you ever do to her? You feel like she’s mocking you from where she sits, perched full and plump amongst the stars. Well, at least she isn’t alone.

Wiping the wetness from your face, you pull your legs from the water and curl up on the crate, trying not to tip it in the process. It’s cold, soaked to the bone as you were, and you feel regret despite not knowing which part of the night spawned it. Floating alone on the ocean in the aftermath of your assassination attempt gone awry, you’re left to your thoughts with only the moon and the inky depths of the ocean for company.

x     +     x     +     x     +     x

 One might think that chopping off the hand of your greatest nemesis would alleviate some of the rage you’ve held for them since childhood. One would be wrong, however. You don’t feel better at all.

You’ve been adrift for two days now. Objectively, not that long. But realistically, you’ve felt every second of it. You have enough loose clothing that you can cover your exposed skin from the sun, but you’re so hungry and so thirsty that you’re beginning to think maybe you should just let the elements claim you so you’re not suffering anymore. You’ve even considered drowning yourself, or praying to the heavens for a sea storm, a few times.

You’re being dramatic. You know this, and you’re annoyed at yourself. You can’t die, you won’t die—you refuse to accept death as an possibility in this scenario. Not when you still haven’t exacted the revenge you’ve been planning and plotting for so long. Instead of accepting your loss the other night, the day’s you’ve spent left to your own thoughts have done nothing but stoke the rage and regret inside you. You hate that man, and you wish you’d aimed for his throat that night instead of his stupid hand. You hadn’t killed him, hadn’t risked his life—you’d just managed to make him more of a pirate. Next time you see him, he’ll probably have a hook. If you see him, that is. The reason you’re so annoyed at yourself is because this feels like it was your one opportunity to carry out your plan and you fucked it up. Realistically, you probably won’t get another chance as perfect as that.

This kind of inner monologue was what plagues you in your waking hours. A part of you realises that it’s a defence mechanism, focusing on your anger so you don’t feel quite feel the hunger or the thirst as much. If you’re too busy thinking to be feeling how much your body is crying out for help, then perhaps it will increase your chances of survival. And you have to survive, because you have unfinished business here still.

As your second day melts into night, however, you realise that perhaps there’s another reason you’re feeding into the anger. Perhaps, an alarming part of you fears that you might not have a choice but to accept the direction your fate is currently headed. With each hour that ticks over and each pang of hunger and burn of thirst that torments your senses, you become a little more resigned to your fate.

x     +     x     +     x

It’s kind of miraculous you’ve been alive this long, in all honesty.

You can practically feel yourself melting into a delirium of sorts as the sun moves through the sky, warming you before the cool embrace of night. You think it’s been three days that you’ve been drifting. Again, not that long, but when you’re without drinkable water and have no method of getting any… well, let’s say you’re feeling it.

Your mouth and throat feel so dry and constricted that a part of you wonders if you’ll even be able to talk again, should you happen to survive this experience. You almost roll your eyes at yourself—why, on the brink of death, are you so dramatic? You don’t remember being like this, or maybe you have always been like this and are only noticing now because it’s the first time you’ve literally only had yourself for company for so long. Gods, you’re unbearable. Why had you attempted to kill the pirate lord when you could have just locked yourself in the room with him and tortured him that way.

The thought makes you let out a delirious little giggle, unfocused gaze directed to the stars. It’s your fourth night and you feel oddly at peace. At some point over the day the anger you felt bled away and now you’re just… existing. You’ve reached a point that you could probably call acceptance. Even now there’s a part of you that resists that notion, but it’s…. significantly quieter. Much easier to block out. In the absence of that particularly loud voice, you find your mind wandering. When the sunset bled into dusk you’d been thinking about whether anyone had ever counted how many stars there are in the sky. That was a few hours ago, and now you’re onto better, more evolved topics of mental conversation.

Like what would it look like, if the moon had oceans on it too?

It would probably have splotches of blue. Or, what if it was a different colour? Personally, you’re partial to purple. The idea of a purple-spotted moon makes you smile. Ah, if only.

Registering the familiar ache in your back that comes when you lay on it for too long, the odd angles and edges of your ‘raft’ most unkind to your squishy human body, you roll weakly onto your stomach with a sigh, resting your face on your forearm. Against your better judgement, you let your toes dip just barely into the water. The fact you’ve barely seen any sea life apart from a few fish this entire time alarms you more than it comforts you. You’d rather keep being safe than sorry, but it’s too taxing to hold your legs up constantly so you begrudgingly let them lower and hope its not your downfall.

You’re drifting off, dissociating a little as you stare at the moonlight glimmering along the water’s surface. The rocking of your crate and barrel structure is almost comforting at this point, a source of consistency and security. Your gaze is a little unfocused, and that is probably why it takes a while for you to register the sudden strange glimmer that the inky water before you adopts. You squint, staring a little harder. It’s like something is glowing, deep beneath the surface, luminescent greens and blues shining through the murky filter of the ocean to greet your eyes.

Great, now you’re hallucinating.

Except, it doesn’t stop and fade as you expect a hallucination would. Your apathy is replaced by a healthy dose of shock and alarm as the glowing object seems to grow closer, nearing the surface and brightening as it does. To your sudden horror, the closer it gets the more you are able to make out the shape, and it begins to resemble something big, moving quickly through the depths.

You don’t even have the energy to scramble back when whatever it is breaks the surface, merely pinching your eyes shut and hoping for a quick death if your time really has come. Tiny droplets sprinkle against your skin and apart from the soft sloshing of water, there is silence. Surprised and slightly unnerved, you peek your eyes open cautiously. The sight they take in you robs the breath from your lungs.

It's the merman.

You can barely take in your next breath from the shock and the way your heart stutters in your chest; you'd thought so before, but especially now in this moment, he is beautiful. His face is fuller, body healed and features less gaunt than when you last saw him. Inky hair curls across his forehead, droplets slipping in glimmering trails of moonlight down his face. Now that you're no longer at risk of being skinned alive by pirates, you can take your time and appreciate the pert slope of his nose, the strong set of his jaw and the high arch of his cheekbones. Raven, iridescent scales speckle his skin on the outskirts of his face and the outer edge of his eyes, which glimmer deep cocoa as they bore into your own. His shapely lips are held in a neutral line, parting slightly as he regards you.

It's easy to forget that the last time you saw him, you pushed him from the railing of a pirate ship.

There is something completely different about him from then, though. The glow that you'd glimpsed through the water earlier is in fact coming from a series of tattoo-like patterns that curl and sprawl over his skin, reacting to the moonlight and fading to obscurity in the shadows and valleys of his form.

For a moment, the two of you do nothing but sit and watch the other. His eyes sweep over you, taking in the tired and beaten nature of your crummy raft and limp body sprawled over it. It is ridiculous, considering you have spent the past however-many days refusing to accept death as your fate, but now you find your eyes stinging and your chin wobbling. How kind of the universe to provide you company in these moments that you realise suddenly really might be your last.

The merman is more than alarmed at the sudden reversal of your roles. He panics slightly, eyes widening and hands flying from the water, flinging droplets over your skin once more. His fingers twitch, hands moving towards your face before halting, hesitant.

You stare at him a moment longer, watching as his features shift ever so slightly with each thought that runs through his head. You're a little delirious, maybe, but also absolutely mesmerised. You can't stop marvelling, can't tear your gaze from his face-- gods, he's beautiful.

He opens his mouth, lips parting, and to your surprise you catch movement from the corner of your eyes-- gills, you realise quickly, that sit on either side of his neck underneath his jaw and flare before sealing closed as he attempts to take in oxygen. You watch his throat bob, as though he is trying to speak to you, but nothing comes out but a rasp and soft, wet, gurgle. He snaps his mouth shut, eyes sweeping over your sad body once more before a frown tugs his lips. He bobs lower in the water, the fluid lapping softly over glowing, marked shoulders.

This time, when he reaches forward with his hands, he no longer hesitates. His skin is surprisingly smooth, the pads of his fingers like silk as they brush over your cheekbones. They come away wetter than before and you realise belatedly that your eyes still sting and you are crying.

How embarrassing, you think distantly, yet you can't seem to stop.

He holds your gaze a moment longer, eyes darting over your face, before he leans back, putting a little bit of distance between you. He reaches out one hand, the other slipping into the water, and pats the top of your knuckles softly. In a way, it reminds you of the way pet owners tell their dogs to sit and stay. He lingers for another brief moment, and then before you can blink he suddenly drops back beneath the surface with a plop. The glow of his markings remain visible for only a moment before they, too, disappear from your sight.

It takes a second before alarm registers in you, and even longer for you to decipher the cause of the sudden gaping fissure of loss that splits your insides. You thought you were going to have company in the last moments of your life, you were relieved you weren’t going to die alone—but the merman just left as quickly as he came and you’ve never felt quite as gutted as you do now. You saved his life and for what? So he could leave you alone when you actually needed him? You realise distantly how irrational and overemotional you’re being, no doubt fuelled by delirium and all the other lovely things your days floating at sea have brought about, but you can’t help it. It’s a ridiculous thing to feel betrayed over—by a mythical creature you didn’t even know really existed until a few days ago, of all things—but still, it stings.

You don’t know how long you stare into the water miserably, but eventually your eyes begin to burn and, regrettably, you allow them to close. It’s not quite a proper sleep that you slip into, your body exhausted but still incredibly on edge, but something in between rest and waking. Hence, when the familiar sound of water rippling and parting as something breaks the surface greets your ears once more, you’re quick to rouse in alarm.

Eyes shooting open, your vision remains blurry for a moment before you blink it away and a gasp catches in your throat, your chest warming.

The merman came back.

He seems to realise that you thought he’d left for good, an apologetic expression filtering across his features. You sniffle, mouth and throat too dry to say anything, but your attention is drawn when he pulls his hands from the water. To your surprise, he is cupping something in his hold, a small treasure box of sorts that looks like it’s spent most of its life at the bottom of the ocean but would have gleamed gold in its prime. Perplexed and curious, you watch as he lifts the lid and retrieves something wrapped in green and an old, barnacle-decorated flask from within. Mindful of where your weight is distributed on the raft, he sets it next to you, waiting a moment to make sure it won’t fall. As soon as he sees it’s stable, he sets the wrapped item next to it, taking the flask into both hands.

With nimble fingers, he undoes the top and cleans around the neck and mouth of the bottle, revealing gleaming silver where the layers of sea grime have been wiped clear. He seems a little sheepish about its less than ideal state as you watch him, but is sure to wipe it as spotless as possible before he holds it out to you.

For a moment, you simply stare at it and wonder, does he know that you can’t drink seawater? Is it even water that is inside? Sniffling a bit, you shift just barely so you’re leaning on your elbow and sniff the mouth of the bottle where its offered to you. The indescribable but distinct, slightly-metallic smell of fresh water greets your nostrils and you blink in surprise, mouth falling open as you look to the merman in shock. He’s watching your reaction curiously, waiting patiently, and when he sees you’re not going to resist he carefully brings the container to your lips. You’re too shocked and excited at the prospect of finally having some water to ease the sticky desert in your mouth and throat to protest, allowing him to feed it to you with ease.

The second the water touches your tongue and slides down your throat like a liquid cure, you feel as though you could cry. You try and be as conservative with the water as possible, desperately trying not to let any escape your mouth as you gulp it down. All too soon though the flow of water comes to an end, the flask empty before you can completely sate your thirst. It almost makes you cry again, running out, but you focus on how grateful you are to have had any at all instead of moping further.

You sniffle, eyes stinging as an overwhelming wave of gratitude surges through you for the creature bobbing in the water before you.

“Thank you,” you manage to croak, throat and vocal chords aching slightly after days of remaining unused. You sniffle again, letting your face drop to your arm so you can wipe away the snot. “Thank you…”

When you manage to lift your head back up, the merman is smiling at you softly, a fond curve to his eyes. He screws the lid back on the flask, swapping it with the wrapped item he’d put down earlier. Feeling somewhat rejuvenated now you’re a little less dehydrated than you had been, you watch him a little more actively as he gingerly pinches the green material—which you realise now is seaweed—between his fingers and, with careful hands, unravels it from the item held within. Instantly, a salty, warm aroma wafts up to your nose and your mouth is salivating before it even registers in your head that you’re currently looking at food.

In his palms, cupped together to hold it better, is a neat line of fish that, upon closer inspection, appears to have been boiled. Curious as to how the merman had brought you cooked food but unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth, you send him a wide-eyed look. “For… for me?”

When he nods, you almost cry again. God, days at sea and you turn into the biggest crybaby to ever exist.

He waits as you gratefully and eagerly begin eating what he brought for you, retrieving chunks of fish and feeding you carefully. The flavour is bland but in this scenario it’s definitely not a deal-breaker. You’re so thankful that something edible is even touching your tongue, you don’t care that its boiled, unseasoned fish in the least. In all honesty, after days of eating nothing you think this might be the best meal you’ve ever had.

When you’re done devouring the fish, the merman folds the seaweed and tucks it back into the treasure box with the flask, closing the lid. He smiles as you thank him again, and holds up a hand as though telling you to wait. He ducks back beneath the water, but this time you’re hopeful that he’ll return.

And he does, not long after he disappears. Definitely a quicker trip than last time, although you suppose that is to be expected since he was gathering food and freshwater for you to drink. You have no idea how or where he got it from, but you’re eternally thankful either way.

He smiles at you as soon as he resurfaces, water dripping down his face and plastering inky strands to his forehead before he shakes his head and they fling up, curling away from his scalp wildly. Once more, you're mesmerised by the way the moonlight makes him literally glow-- from his luminescent marks to the way the iridescent scales glittering across his skin catch the light. If you peer further into the inky depths, you can just barely catch sight of the oil-slick tail curling and winding to tread the water and keep him afloat, wispy finds trailing behind it and glowing in a similar manner to the marks across his skin.

Tenderly, the merman reaches to brush some of the salt-crusted hair from your forehead, offering a small smile. You've only just finished munching and feel much more energised as a result of some actual food and water entering your body, but the second his fingers drag across your skin like silk it is as though all the exhaustion your body held in the past few days comes crashing down on you at once. Your eyes droop, and you struggle to keep them open because he's still here and you want to look at him while you can. You don't know if this was it, if this was what he was doing to repay you and you wouldn't see him after this. If that was the case, you wanted to remember everything about the way he looks and makes you feel in this moment.

The merman's lips curl slightly at the edges, apparently endeared by your struggle to remain awake, and he lifts his hands partly from the water to place them flat against the crate before they search for a groove in the wood that allows his fingers to find a proper grip. His body tilts and you don't notice it at first, as exhausted as you are, but soon catch on that he's turning your raft. Once he seems appeased by the direction it's 'facing', he adjusts his grip and leans back slightly. It takes you another moment to realise that he's actually pulling you in a certain direction, propelling the two of you steadily with his tail beneath the surface. What a sight you must be to anything that passes, you think. A girl lying draped across a barrel and a crate, being pulled by a glowing mercreature.

You wish to stay up, to watch the merman a little more. A part of you wants to talk to him, but you're also very aware that he can't respond and so it isn't much of a pressing matter to you. Gradually, the sound of the ocean and the gentle knocking of the water against your craft as it's dragged through the waves is enough to lull you to sleep. For the first time in a few days you welcome it, allowing yourself to go easily. The last thing you see before your eyes close fully is the merman's beautiful features tugged into a fond smile, illuminated by a halo of moonlight and a crown of stars.

x x x x x x x

Each night after that, the merman returns to keep you company. He always brings the same small treasure chest and a flask of fresh water, but to your pleasant surprise also tries to change up the food that he wraps in seaweed. So far you've been treated to a few different kinds of fish, some crab and other seafood that you admittedly don't know the name of. Some of them tasted better than others, but no matter what he brings you're grateful. He's the only reason you haven't perished out here.

There is a routine that the two of you have fallen into. Every time he comes, he will feed you and then return the items to wherever he retrieved them from. When he pops back up he grasps your 'raft' and does the same as he did the first night, pulling you through the ocean towards a destination that you don't know and have no way of inquiring about. You've since outgrown your hesitance to talk, and now chatter away aimlessly at him whenever he seems willing to listen. Some days he surfaces in a better mood than others, but always by the end of his visit you manage to have him smiling again. You only ever see him once the sun has fallen past the horizon and the moon has risen in her wake, but you swear that every time he flashes a soft smile at you the sun peaks back out for a moment to bask you in her warmth.

Call it sad or pathetic, but you're starting to develop a bit of a crush on this creature.

How can you not? When he has done nothing but go out of his way to help you and ensure you survive, feeding you and guiding you and keeping you company in the hours where you would otherwise be most prone to going insane bit by bit? You make sure to thank him every day, after every kind act he does for you, and even though he can't communicate as you do above the water it's clear he is aware of your gratitude.

The routine holds true for a few nights, although you lost count at some point you know a fair few have passed. One night, however, the merman doesn't show at the usual time; he's made a habit of popping up in the hour after dusk settles and when time ticks over and it becomes several hours past the time he usually arrives, you grow a little concerned. Well, concerned and a little sad. A part of you worries if he has finally decided to stop coming, and another, smaller part wonders if this whole ordeal was just an elaborate hallucination that resulted from your parched, starved state before you 'met him'.

Thankfully, the merman shows up; he rises from the depths with his telltale glow just before you're about to doze off, drooping eyes shooting wide open at the sight of him. You almost ask him where he was before biting your tongue on the matter, realising he wouldn't be able to answer you anyway. Instead, you allow your eyes to sweep over him for any clues that might suggest why he took longer than usual today.

You've accepted the fact that your mercreature friend quite literally glows in the moonlight, but tonight he appears especially radiant. It takes you a moment to realise that it's because the entire time since he broke the surface, the grin hasn't left his face. You're not sure what has happened in his world that he's so pleased about, but his happiness is apparently contagious. It completely washes away your earlier mood and you find yourself smiling as you chat to him in between bites of seaweed and fish.

Contrary to what you expect, when he finishes feeding you tonight (something he insists on doing even though you've long since regained the strength needed to feed yourself) he doesn't immediately dart off beneath the waves to return the treasure box. Instead, he places the box on the raft with the materials inside, then dips his hands beneath the water to reach for his waist. When they return above the surface they're clutching a small, woven pouch in their grasp. The merman seems almost giddy as he opens it up, nimble fingers tugging the twisted string loose enough to fit his hand inside.

You feel your mouth drop at the items he withdraws, presenting them in his damp hand for you to gaze upon. In his palm are three pearls; one white like a drop of pure moonlight, one shimmering, iridescent black like his scales, and one that gleamed pretty and nacreous with a soft undertone that, oddly enough, resembles the colour of your eyes. You're unable to help the way you stare at them in awe for a moment, before looking up to catch his gaze on you. Your head tilts as you send him a questioning look, unsure exactly what he wants from you.

He smiles, endeared by your mannerisms. He places his pouch beside you, using his now free hand to place his fingers on his lips. He then points them to the pearls in his palm, before moving them slightly closer to you. Your cheeks heat as you catch onto what he is trying to tell you.

"You... want me to kiss them?" you attempt to clarify, blush intensifying when he nods. "Why?"

His smile simply grows and adopts a somewhat cheeky edge, eyes curving with glee. His markings cast a soft glow on the pearls in his palm, but it's less strong now that he is holding them closer to you and further from his body.

You're a little embarrassed and bashful, but you suppose what is the worst that can happen? With warm cheeks you allow your head to dip and your lips to brush the pearls, careful not to kiss his palm on accident. For some reason that feels as though it would be a little too intimate, and you're already trying not to combust as it is.

To your surprise, when you pull your head back up the merman is positively beaming at you, something neither you nor your heart are really ready for. He grabs the pouch, quickly depositing them back inside before plopping it back in the water and fastening it around his waist; the only reason you can see what he is doing is because of the moonlight making him glow. He pats your hand with his own, the action he usually does to reassure you that he'll be right back, and then he's grabbing the treasure box and ducking beneath the surface as usual.

It feels like it takes a little longer for him to return this time, but you have no way of knowing for sure. He breaks the surface, still grinning, and goes about gripping the raft and beginning to tug it along as he usually does. You're a little ashamed to say that somewhere along the way, in between your one-sided chatter and admiration of his beauty, you fall asleep earlier than you usually do. It's probably due to the fact he appeared later than normal, but you digress. If you stayed up even a little longer, you'd probably have a little more of an idea about the scene that greets you when you crack your eyes open the next morning.

You wake up to the feeling of sand.

Admittedly, it is an alarming thing to wake up to when you've gotten used to sleeping with the feeling of rough, unforgiving wood beneath you and the rocking lull of the ocean. In the few seconds after you rejoin the world of the living to the familiar feeling of the sun beating down on you, there is a sense of acceptance that settles within your being. Then you move and grains of sand move with you and you're darting into a sitting position with wide eyes, blinking rapidly so your vision clears and you can see where the hell you are.

It doesn't take you long to figure out you're on a beach.

You scramble to a stand, legs incredibly wobbly and so unsteady you almost tumble several times before you manage to right yourself properly. Subconsciously your eyes sweep the strip of sand for the items that kept you afloat all this time, and you're strangely relieved to see them not too far from the indent in the sand where you must have washed up. God, you must have been knocked the hell out to wash up on a beach and stay asleep through the whole thing.

It's right about now that it really sinks in-- you washed up, you're on land right now. The realisation has your legs wobbling from shock and tears of happiness stinging your eyes, elation filling your chest. God, you didn't think you'd ever see land again! The urge rises within you to drop and kiss the ground and it takes all of your willpower to fight it. As happy as you are to feel sand beneath your feet, you're not exactly keen to have it anywhere near your mouth.

The sun is especially potent today, almost harsh against your skin even though it can't be any later than mid morning. You're relieved to have the option of shade, finally, and whip around to face the treeline behind you giddily. From here you can catch glimpses of hills and a small mountain, the island nothing massive but definitely no small matter. You can't help but envision it ripe with fresh water and foods of all kinds, incredibly optimistic now that you're no longer stranded at sea.

It hits you about three steps towards the treeline that the reason you were able to get here at all is  because of the merman. You feel a mixture of emotions swirling inside you at the sudden realisation, warmth blooming in your abdomen and climbing up your spine to bud and blossom behind your ribs. You owe that merman your life.

Despite knowing that you wouldn’t see him, you still can’t help but peer over your shoulder and let your eyes sweep across the horizon, searching for a small glimmer or even a bit of glow amongst the waves and the horizon. Nothing greets you, of course, but for some reason… for some reason you feel as though wherever he is, he isn’t all that far away. It soothes you, that feeling, and you turn to the treeline with renewed optimism and excitement.

Food other than fish and seafood, here you come!

x     +     x     +     x     +     x

The first night you spend on the island, the merman doesn’t come.

You don’t know why, but for some reason you’d just taken it for granted that come the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon, you’d see his cheery, glowing visage popping up amongst the waves as you usually do. In your scavenging of the forest near where you washed up, you manage to find a few fruits—some of which you recognise, thankfully—and you gather them in your shirt to bring back to the beach at nightfall, where you plop onto the sand and await the arrival of your fishy friend. You think that if you weren’t so exhausted you probably would have stayed up the whole night waiting for him. You crash, though, a few hours into the night, and it wouldn’t matter even if you try and push yourself and stay up. The merman doesn’t come.

On your second day occupying the island, you venture further inland and manage to find a cute little cave next to a crystalline lagoon of sorts, the bottom of which is so deep and blue you can’t even see where it ends. The cave on the other hand appears shallow from the outside, but has a considerable amount of room on the inside. You’re already planning to gather some wood and materials to block it off and make it a bit more habitable—after you clear out all the spiders and weird little lizards you see in there, though. You get some more fruit and food and begin a stockpile of sorts. When day bleeds into night and the moon’s rays kiss your skin once more, you head back to the beach and settle down, waiting once more. The merman doesn’t come.

The following days, the routine varies but always ends the same. When each day draws to a close, you finish what you’re doing and head to the beach where you washed up, settling down and waiting. With each day that passes and the merman doesn’t show, you begin to lose a little hope. Each time you fall asleep on the sand and wake to the warmth of the sun and an empty beach, the part of you that wonders if you’re just crazy and imagined the whole thing grows a little louder.

You miss him.

It doesn’t take you long to realise that in the short time you spent with him, you grew to like him, a lot. You also realise part of it is probably just that without him, your days at sea would have been incredibly lonely and no doubt would have driven you insane eventually. Perhaps you’ve grown a bit attached to him, but aside from that… you’ve grown to like him. Hell, he hasn’t ever uttered a word to you and he’s currently missing, but you miss the solace you found in his bright smile, his warm eyes and his… his glow, as stupid as that sounds.

It’s perhaps a week after you arrived on the island—something that you’re keeping track of with a little rock and tally in your cave— that the little routine you’ve settled into is disrupted. Contrary to how the rest of your days were spent, last night you curled up alongside the lagoon, the sand there a little softer than the beach, and admired the brightness of the stars against the deep ink of the sky—it was a fresh, waxing moon, and from that information you guess that you’ve been missing from civilisation for probably… around or a little more than three weeks. But the main point is that you fell asleep next to the lagoon instead of next to the ocean.

Which is why the sight you wake up to the next morning gives you such a heart attack.

These past few days you’ve woken up on your own, your body clock set to rouse you a few hours after sunrise. Today, however, it’s a persistent prodding that brings you from the clutches of sleep. Mumbling to yourself softly, you crack your eyes open and blink blearily; when your vision clears, it reveals a shockingly familiar face barely inches from your own. You scream.

The merman jerks back, eyes wide as you scramble away in fright, heart pounding against your chest and breathing uneven.

“What.” Your voice is sharp and strangled until you clear your throat and try again, managing to calm down a little. “What on… where did you go?!”

The merman seems amused that it’s the first time you see him in over a week, and that’s the first thing to come out of your mouth. You’re too shocked to see him the second you wake up—at daytime nonetheless!— to keep your tongue in check. You’re halfway to wondering how long he’s been there when you realise another important factor; you fell asleep next to the lagoon last night. Your eyes immediately dart down, and to your surprise you see that he’s leaning over the edge of the lagoon on his elbows, his body from hips-down immersed in the crystalline waters. You catch movement from the corner of your eye and when you direct your gaze to it, your jaw drops. His tail swirls behind him, long and graceful and so pretty with the fins trailing behind it like ribbons and glimmering, opalescent gossamer, and his scales gleam brilliantly in the sunlight. His markings aren’t activated, but the iridescent shimmer of his scales makes up for it you think. You sputter as he lays there watching you, amused. Just as you go to speak again, he opens his mouth and does the last thing you expect him to do.

“Miss me, did you?”

You balk, mouth dropping open at the deep and husky, velvety tone that brushes your ears; it appears to come from the merman, and it takes several long moments for the observation to settle in. When it does, you let out a belated noise of shock and scramble back over to the merman.

“What! Since when can you talk! Have you been able to talk this whole time?!” the words tumble out of your mouth so fast it’s a wonder he can keep up. He’s grinning at your current state of shock, incredibly amused and staring with a fond look in his gaze.

“No, I could not talk before,” he says, still speaking softly—it takes you a moment to realise it’s probably so he doesn’t strain this new voice. “My speech organs were not adapted to speaking above the water.”

“Wh—then why can you—how can you talk to me now?” you continue looking at him with wide eyes, still reeling from the barrage of shocking things you’ve been faced with this morning. The merman looks kind of dazed even as you fire more questions at him, chin resting in his palm as he stares at you somewhat dreamily. It has your cheeks warming and heart skipping a beat.

“I asked a sea witch for help,” he answers simply after a few moments, blinking once lazily before a slow, fond smile stretches his lips further. “She wasn’t very agreeable at first, I had to bribe her. Then, once she performed the spell, I had to wait a few days for it to take effect and for me to heal. That is why I was gone. I am sorry if I worried you, human.”

“You don’t have to apologise,” you say immediately, averting your eyes and scratching the back of your neck. “I’m… I’m sure you have a life, too. You know, one that doesn’t revolve around keeping some dumb human alive.”

The merman fights a smile at your words, a faux stern expression filtering across his features. “I wouldn’t spend my time keeping just any dumb human alive, you know. Only the ones I owe my life to.”

You can’t help the smile that slips onto your lips at that. “Sweet of you,” you note, head tilting as something occurs to you suddenly. “Wait—you had to bribe a sea witch? Is that why you brought those pearls?”

The merman shrugs, tail twisting and arching from the water for a moment. He slaps it back down and grins when you let out a gasp at the cool droplets of water that spray on you as a result. “Yes, and no. I bribed her with some precious things from my home, but the pearls I needed for the spell.”

You let out a noise to indicate that you understand, even though you don’t really. “Huh. Well, uh… I’m… I’m glad you came back. I was getting lonely. And thank you, you know… for keeping me alive and bringing me here, wherever here is.”

The merman sways slightly, leaning closer as he beams. Some of his raven locks fall across his forehead from the movement, just shy of his lashes that are still wet and clinging together.  “It’s no problem, pretty pearl. The least I could do, really.”

Now that he can talk to you he seems to be filled with a new sort of zest and confidence, his hand leaving where it was rested against his bicep to reach and brush a lock of your hair that hangs loose by your face. You flush, and he hums. “And this isn’t just anywhere. It’s my home, the centre of my kingdom.”

You must appear as confused as you feel because he lets out a low chuckle, eyes pinching shut in mirth. You’re disarmed to note that he’s just as beautiful and radiant in the sunlight as he is beneath the glow of the moon, honey skin glowing gold and oil-slick scales shimmering through a rainbow of colours as they catch the light.

“Beneath the water, pretty pearl,” he enlightens you, a fond note entering his tone. “This island sits atop a massive network of underwater cave systems that span for miles. It’s the centrepiece, the capital city in the Kingdom of Sand. This island is part of the highest collection of caves, where the royal family live.”

He lets out an amused snicker, “You’re essentially living on the roof of the palace.”

Your mouth drops open, your mind doing a double-take at the load of information it has just received. Your eyes sweep over him as your thoughts attempt to order, taking in the string of pearls and shells around his throat you hadn’t noticed before, along with the silver metal slipped over his fingers. The only reason you see them now is because they glint in the light as he moves.  

“The palace?” you squeak, thinking about how just yesterday you took a quick dip in one of the other deep lagoons on the island to clean yourself off a bit. “Oh no… will I be in trouble? Will you be in trouble? You’re in the water right now, are you allowed to be here?!”

The merman grins brightly, laughing loudly at your fluster and panic. “I don’t think someone would get in trouble for roaming their own home, pretty pearl.”

He only has to wait a moment for his words to sink in and an alarmed noise to tear from your throat. “Wh—you--?!”

The merman pushed off from the bank, bobbing in the middle of the lagoon; he bends his upper half in an attempt at a bow, one hand extending to the side as the tips of his hair brush the water. “Third prince of the Sand Kingdom and third in line for the throne, Jung Hoseok, at your service.”

When he returns from the position it’s to the sight of you gaping like a fish and he can’t help the loud laugh that tears from him once more.

Well. This is certainly something to think about.

x     +     x     +     x     +     x

 It admittedly takes you a while to recover from the abrupt discovery that the merman you saved from a pirate’s ship, and who then went on to save you in return, is the prince of an underwater kingdom.

One of seven princes, actually.

That was another little tidbit that left you reeling when you heard it. After you woke up to the merman, Hoseok, poking you awake that day, you spent a long time afterwards talking. Making up for lost time, you suppose. He filled you in on a lot of things, like where he went and even how he prepared some of the food you ate, when you asked (they use underwater geysers to cook the meat). With an almost alarming amount of ease, you sink back into a comfortable routine with him—it doesn’t matter to you that he’s a prince, because he still acts the same as before and hence you still treat him the same. It probably should alarm you, you might get in trouble, but you’re too busy enjoying his return to care in all honesty.

Upon your arrival on the island, Hoseok’s visitation schedule flipped from night to day. Well, you say that because he makes sure to wake you somehow each morning—he is an obnoxiously early riser—but really, most of the time he ends up keeping you company into the night-time hours anyway. On the days he can, that is. You learn quickly that the only reason one of the oldest princes can spend so much time away from his kingdom and with you is because every time he visits he is, in actuality, shirking his duties.

You find this out thanks to a new character that pops up in one of the lagoons as you’re bickering with Hoseok about fish one day (perhaps a dumb argument to be having with a merman, but you digress). The male has stuck to you the whole morning thus far, ducking into the water and popping up in the next lagoon or water hole wherever you venture next. The lagoons and water holes are all connected by caves beneath, something he truly enjoys taking advantage of. You’re in a quaint little nook of the island near the base of the mountain, a little alcove with a water hole and tall palms draping over to offer generous shade. There are a few large rocks lining the edge of the water, and you use these to lay your primitive tools down on. Being stranded on an island has brought out your inner survivalist, it seems. You wish to say you’re thriving but you don’t think you can stretch it that far.

Hoseok is floating on his back, propelling himself in circles around the small body of water with lazy rolls of his tail, his fingers tapping against the water surface to disrupt the tension. He’s particularly stunning today, the sun bathing him in gold and making him glimmer in more ways than one. You don’t think you’ll ever stop being amazed at his beauty, really. You do find yourself growing tired of his sass, though. You should have known from that first eyeroll on the pirate ship that he had a lot of attitude and no intention of containing it.

“You can’t argue that boiled fish is better than smoked fish when you’ve only ever tried one of them,” you tell him as you attempt to crack into a coconut with a large, jagged rock you found. You’re making progress, but it’s slower than you’d like. “That’s biased.”

The merman snorts, closing his eyes and splashing some water over his face and chest to keep himself cool. “It’s not biased, it’s called being right.”

You have to take a moment so you don’t clutch the rock too tight, consciously loosening your grip. God, he’s annoying—you like him a little too much.

“Well, you’re wrong so you’re not very good at being right,” you shoot back, before a sudden thought occurs to you and you turn to him accusingly. “On the topic of fish, if you’re a prince and third in line for the throne then why did all the fish you brought me taste so bland? Don’t you have chefs?”

At this, Hoseok lets out an offended noise and splashes into an upright position. His voice is indignant as it pierces your ears, and when you look up his cheeks have warmed to a bright pink, his ears suffering a similar fate. “Excuse me? I made that myself, it was not bland.”

For a moment you feel a little guilty for calling his cooking bland, then it hits you that he cooked for you to keep you alive and you can feel your cheeks flush with heat barely a split second later. To distract from the embarrassment, you open your mouth to fire something back. You don’t get to say anything though, because another voice cuts through the space that is neither Hoseok’s nor yours.

“So this is where you’ve been zipping off to all secretive every day, hyung.”

Hoseok jerks in alarm, water splashing about as he whips around to face a figure that you just now notice has popped up to the edge of the water hole. It’s another merman, you gather from the shimmer of scales you glimpse beneath the surface of the water, with big brown eyes and a messy mop of dripping black hair. His wide eyes flick between your shocked self and Hoseok, who is only just recovering from the fright, and a small smile of mischief curls his lips.

“Jungkookie,” Hoseok’s voice sounds in a warning, but you can tell there’s no bite behind it. From the fond set of his eyes as he regards the other male and the affectionate twinge hidden deep in his tone, you hedge a bet that this must be one of his brothers. “Shouldn’t you know better than to sneak up on people—namely, on me? And what are you doing here?!”

“I followed you when you left this morning,” the male says without a shred of fear for any repercussions, voice smooth and clear as his gaze fixes on you. He wades over, close enough for you to catch the fiery glimmer of cherry scales embedded in his skin that gleam sunset in the light, curious eyes never leaving you as he continues to talk. “I wanted to pop up earlier but Taehyung needed my help with something, so I left then came back. This is where you’ve been coming, huh?”

He turns to Hoseok now, a teasing grin tugging his lips despite the somewhat nervous way his fingers come to play with the gold pearls around his neck. “The others are going to tease you if they find out you’ve been keeping a pretty human girl all to yourself.”

Hoseok flushes deeply, attempting to hide it behind a glare he directs to the other. “They won’t find out if you keep your mouth shut, Jungkookie.”

The merman giggles, the nature of the sound letting you know he most definitely isn’t going to keep his mouth shut, and turns back to you. “Of course, hyung. It’s nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Jungkook, seventh prince of the Sand Kingdom and the one stuck with picking up all the duties Hoseok-hyung has been shirking when he comes to visit you, at your service.”

You direct an amused look to Hoseok, the merman in question looking a little more than mortified. “I’m y/n. I found your brother on a pirate ship and pushed him overboard. It’s nice to meet you.”

At your words, the doe-eyed male lights up. He lurches forward, upper half propelling from the water enough that he’s able to snatch your hands in his grasp. You nearly get pulled in before he stabilises himself, but still end up bending slightly.

“That was you! You’re the one that saved him?” He seems to be in awe, looking upon you in open admiration. “Hoseok was missing for so long, we—we feared the worst. Then he suddenly came home all beat up and told us what happened. He was kind of grounded but he kept leaving without telling us where he was going and escaping the guards anyway.”

Hoseok huffs at this, preening slightly. You snort.

“Was he sneaking out to see you this whole time?” Jungkook asks, hands still cupping yours tightly. Even if you wanted to, you realise that you can’t even think of lying to him when he looks up at you with those big starry eyes like that.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, kind of sheepish and slightly guilty for getting Hoseok in a little trouble. “I was kind of stranded at sea and he kept me alive by bringing me food and water and uh… bringing me here.”

The young merman looks up in awe for a moment, blinking as your words sink in, before he’s dropping your hands and lurching away with a gasp. He propels himself over to his brother and latches on in a flurry of cherry scales and chaotic splashes.

“Aww, Hoseok-hyung!” he coos, the older grimacing and attempting to peel him off. The familiarity of brotherly antics makes you grin uncontrollably, a warm feeling settling in your chest and tickling the bottom of your ribs. “That’s so kind of you! Who knew you were so soft? Wait until the others—”

“Jungkook if you spill a single word—” Hoseok’s protests are met by a splash and he sputters incredulously. You get the feeling Jungkook is a bit of an unstoppable force.

“—they’re going to be so impressed!” the younger male releases his brother, but only to zip back to you and clutch one of your hands again. “Will you meet them? They’ll want to meet you for sure!”

"Uhh," you drag the sound out, eyes flicking between the two for help. Hoseok appears somewhat panicked and in the spirit of winning in some way after the argument you were in, you decide on an answer. "...sure."

Jungkook positively beams at you, alarming you with the sight of bunny teeth and, right next to them, sharp incisors. You suddenly wonder if Hoseok has a mouth of sharper than usual teeth as well and you just haven't noticed or if it's a Jungkook-only thing.

"Excellent!" he shakes your hand in his grasp, almost tugging you into the water on accident from the slightest bit too much strength he has in the motion. "They're a bit busy with their duties so I'm not sure when, but definitely—"

"Jungkook," Hoseok's voice breaks the bright-eyed male from his thoughts, levelling him with a glare as he turns over his shoulder in question. "You have ten seconds to leave before I seal your mouth shut myself."

In all honesty, you doubt Hoseok would actually follow through with the motion but the promise in his voice makes you shiver for Jungkook— who, to your minimal surprise, seems to be largely unaffected by it. He does grin however, his eyes adopting a mischievous glint, and he releases your hand to wade away, body shifting into a prepared stance.

"You won't do it," he teases obnoxiously, and it's such a little brother thing to do that for a moment you're overtaken by a wave of fondness and sadness that mix together in a peculiar cocktail inside you.

“Would you like to stay and find out?” Hoseok’s brows shoot up, water sloshing as he straightens and advances slightly. “I’ll start counting now—one… two….”

Jungkook wriggles in the water, squinting like he is trying to suss out whether his brother is going to follow through or not.

“three… four… five… six…”

Jungkook has the biggest grin on his face, incredibly amused, and you catch the moment that Hoseok realises that his brother is calling his bluff. Annoyed, he changes tactics and lurches forward to dive for the cheeky merman who is testing his patience so.

“—seven-eight-nine-ten!”

Jungkook lets out an alarmed yelp that melts into a laugh before he is spinning and diving into the water, just barely managing to dodge Hoseok’s arms as they swipe through the air where he was. The older male spears his hands into the water in a half-hearted attempt to catch his tail but it seems the younger is too quick. You watch, barely restraining a laugh, as glimmering cherry and inky hair disappear into the deep blue depths of the lagoon. A moment passes and then it’s just you and Hoseok alone once more.

In the few seconds that filter past in the aftermath of the visit, you realise something suddenly that has you turning to Hoseok immediately for an answer. “Wait… if your anatomy isn’t suited to speech above water, and you had to bribe a sea witch, how was he…?”

Hoseok, significantly less agitated now his younger brother is gone and out of his hair, turns to face you, rolling onto his back in the process. The water embraces him tenderly as he does so, tail beginning to resume the lazy propulsions from earlier.

“Ah, Jungkook did the same thing as me—although, much earlier. He is how I knew what to do.” It’s an explanation, but you’re still a little curious and from the amused curve to the merman’s lips, it’s obvious. “He is the youngest and has always had the most freedom—of us, he is probably the most curious about humans too. He went to a sea witch long ago so that he could have a voice that worked above water and he could communicate with them.”

A fond smile slips over his features now. “But contrary to what you just saw, Jungkookie is a little shy… if I weren’t here, I doubt he would have revealed himself to you. He’s always been too shy to reveal himself to any humans and actually use the voice he got. The most he’s done is sing to pirates and make them fall overboard, I believe.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you at that, and it widens the smile on Hoseok’s face in turn. When you catch the fond way he regards you for a moment, your whole face heats in a blush.

“Well, at least he got to use it just then,” you muse. Hoseok lets out a laugh and agrees, taking a moment to dip himself into the water completely and refresh before resurfacing with a bright smile.

“By the way, where were we? I believe I was telling you how wrong you were?”

You roll your eyes so heavily you almost see stars and the merman erupts into laughter once more. Here you go again—is he really a better alternative to being alone on the island? You suppose you’ll find out.

x     x     x     x     x     x

 In due time, you actually get to meet all of Hoseok’s brothers. You thought you had a lot to deal with, when your siblings were still around, but you realise it was nothing compared to the chaos of six siblings—brothers, no less—all in a similar age range.

Next after Jungkook, you meet the other two youngest in the family. The twins who, while aren't identical in appearance, are definitely identical in their inclination to trouble and mischief and make sure you know it. You've heard the phrase double trouble thrown around every so often regarding twins in your town, but it wasn't until you encountered Jimin and Taehyung that you really understood the implications of it.

Your very first meeting with them, they choose to wake you up in Hoseok's stead with sprinkles of salty water and by prodding you with a soggy stick. Needless to say, rousing from sleep to the sight of two unfamiliar faces crowding close to yours, lower bodies immersed in the water of the lagoon you'd mistakenly fallen asleep next to again, gives you the absolute fright of your life. They let out melodious peals of laughter at the borderline screech you emit, one a low baritone and the other a complimentary airy, lilting tenor. Hoseok pops up with a menacing glare not long after and proceeds to smack the both of them for frightening the life out of you, but nonetheless their first impression is made and you're now all the wiser to the cheeky, playful antics of Hoseok's youngest siblings.

"But it's boring down there!" the merman with the low voice and dark brown hair that curls endearingly at the nape of his neck— Taehyung, you learn quickly— whines to his older brother. Hoseok has just told them to go away and annoy one of their other brothers, but to no success thus far. "Everyone else is busy doing their duties. I really thought Yoongi was going to kill me when I swam near him earlier."

Hoseok remains steadfast, arms crossed over his chest as he stares with narrowed eyes at the twins. Jimin, with his inky hair and pink-toned tail, is grinning unabashedly at him. Hoseok retorts, "You have duties too, you know. Do you want me to tell our parents you're shirking them again?"

At the panicked protests that follow, you presume Hoseok has found his leverage. Begrudgingly, the two mermen slink back into the water, but not without sparing you longing, curious gazes that tell you they’re most definitely going to be back to bother you soon. When they finally disappear beneath the surface, Hoseok lets out a huff and you have to laugh.  When you question him as to how those two brothers managed to speak above water, he informs you somewhat sheepishly that all of his brothers went about getting the ability to speak since they learnt of you from Jungkook. You’re quite a popular topic of conversation beneath the water, it seems.

You don't even get a whole day to recover from that particular meeting when you run into another of his siblings. The rest of the morning you spent with Hoseok, him giving you tips on catching fish—which you found incredibly funny by the way. Eventually he had to dip back beneath the surface as well and you needed to gather some things from the island—you’re in the process of making a little hut-slash-some-walls for that ideal cave you found, and need more materials.

In your venturing, you stumble upon another little water hole you’ve not been to yet and immediately halt in your steps, eyes wide as you take in the sight before you. Yet another merman greets your eyes, with soft black hair gleaming like silk in the sun and his deep blue tail shimmering like a glittery extension of the water. He’s sprawled over a large rock lazily, soaking in the sun, and it takes you a moment upon glancing to his face to realise that he is asleep.

Well, was asleep. Not long after you look to his face one of his eyes cracks open and you let out an alarmed squeak at being caught staring and intruding upon whatever private moment he was having.

The merman huffs, letting out a great, deep breath and then a yawn before he rolls onto his stomach on the rock and rests his face in his palm, gaze on you.

“You’re Hoseok’s human, right?”

You fluster for a number of reasons at his words, but namely because you realise he must be one of Hoseok’s brothers if he’s talking to you, and because he’d called you Hoseok’s human. The butterflies that erupted in your stomach at that are something you’re not quite ready to delve into yet, so you push them to the backburner and decide to move forward and talk instead.

“If you mean the one he met on the pirate ship, then yes.”

The merman lets out a hum, gaze burning with curiosity as it sweeps over you. You come to a stop by the edge of the water hole and plop down, crossing your legs. The merman watches the movement, absolutely fascinated.

“Ah yes, you are the one.” He simply stares at you for a moment before continuing, “I’m Yoongi, second in line.”

You note already from this interaction that he is very to-the-point and can’t help but wonder at the stark contrast some of the brothers’ personalities are to one another. He lets his free hand drop to the surface of the water and his fingers to wriggle and make ripples. A cool breeze filters through the air and you can’t help but wonder if he gets cold like he is, with half of his body in the water and the rest exposed to the elements.

“y/n,” you return the sentiment, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

So far you’ve enjoyed meeting all of Hoseok’s brothers— yes, even the twins from this morning— and Yoongi proves to be no exception. He’s very calm, easy to talk to, and as you find out he is also very upfront and blunt. He tells you not long into your meeting that he isn’t actually meant to be up here napping, but that he is avoiding one of the princely duties he has that he finds to be most laborious. He even goes so far as to tell you that you’ll probably meet another brother soon, because they usually get sent to retrieve him.

He’s not far from the truth, it seems, as the two of you can’t have been there more than ten minutes before another unfamiliar head is popping from the water, and then another barely a split second later.

“Yoongi,” the first merman that popped up says this flatly, looking unimpressed. “I swear, if you don’t stop running away from your dance lessons I’m going to chain you to the palace walls. If I have to suffer and dance, then so do you.”

Perplexed if not incredibly amused, you simply sit and watch the interaction for a bit. Yoongi groans, exaggerated and full-bodied, slipping from the rock and back into the water with a sulky splash.

“You’re such a buzz kill, Seokjin. I can’t believe they sent you after me.”

“Well, technically they sent both of us,” chimes the other merman that had popped up, the only one of the two that had actually noticed your presence. He seems a cross between curious and alarmed, but appears to be leaning more towards the former. As he observes how at-ease Yoongi is in your vicinity, he seems to connect the dots and realise who you are.

“They’re so persistent these days,” Yoongi grumbles, yawning and splashing his face with a cupped handful of water. “I can barely catch a break.”

“You do nothing but catch breaks,” the first merman, Seokjin as you gather, speaks again, seeming a cross between amused and annoyed. His brother, the one who had already noticed you, bumps him with his elbow after he’s done speaking and nods his head in your direction; it takes all you have not to laugh when the Seokjin’s mouth drops open the second he catches sight of you.

“Wh— Yoongi, you’re skipping your duties to consort with humans?!” he chokes on his words almost, they come out so rapidly. “What are you, Hoseok?”

At that, you let out a snort, and Yoongi looks like he’s trying desperately not to crack his smooth-faced façade and laugh. He gives his brother the moment that is needed for him to have the realisation that lingers on the horizon, imminent; none of you have to wait long before Seokjin spins around suddenly, whipping to face you and splashing water everywhere in the process.

“You’re Hoseok’s human!” he proclaims, pointing a finger your way. The sandy locks atop his head drip water onto his cheekbones, wet lashes fluttering in his incredulity. “I was wondering where you were hiding! I thought for sure we would have met you before now. Hoseok is better at keeping you to himself than I thought, it seems.”

You’re unsure what to say, but you’re a little flustered, your cheeks warming slightly. You settle for a simple introduction. “Ah, yeah… I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

At once, the sandy-haired merman (who you’ve gathered is quite the flamboyant character by this point) dips into a bow. You still don’t understand how they can do that when they’re bobbing like buoys in the water, but he does it with perfect form.

“Seokjin, crown prince, at your service.” His voice is significantly more honeyed than earlier, and you don’t doubt he’s playing it up a little bit for show. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the human everyone has been raving about beneath the surface.”

You feel your cheeks heat even more at that comment, but don’t get too long to dwell on it before the third merman currently before you wades closer, offering you a kind, dimpled smile. His hair is a similar sandy colour to Seokjin’s, although in a different style that definitely works well to flatter his features.

“I’m Namjoon, fourth in line,” he introduces, offering a hand for you to shake. Surprised that he knew of the human custom, you shake it and grin at him. He continues after releasing your hand. “It really is nice to be able to put a face to the name.”

This time you really can’t fight the blush that colours your cheeks. “Gosh, is everyone really talking about me that much down there? How embarrassing…”

At this, Yoongi lets out a chuckle and Namjoon appears sheepish. Seokjin merely grins. “You’re a hot topic of conversation among the royal family, it seems. Lucky you!”

While part of you is strangely flattered, the rest of you feels anything but lucky. How are you supposed to know what kind of things they’re saying down there when you can’t even breathe underwater, let alone listen?

You decide you’ll just have to let it go—you can’t control what they’re saying, and can only hope its good things. After all, none of Hoseok’s brothers seemed to dislike you at all, as far as you’re aware.

Contrary to what Seokjin and Namjoon said they’d come to do—that being retrieve Yoongi and drag him back to whatever duty he was shirking—they end up staying above the surface with you a little longer. You’ve noticed they’re very curious, these mermen, and completely and utterly eager to know everything they can about the world above their own. They’re willing to pull every single detail they can from you, particularly about different types of foods and their tastes, in Seokjin’s case.

You end up talking well into the afternoon, until Hoseok eventually surfaces and sends them a grumpy look for hogging your time (“I looked everywhere for you!” he’d exclaimed the second he broke the surface). But really, you don’t mind how long you spent simply chatting with them. Hoseok, and his brothers, are somehow all the loveliest, kindest beings you’ve ever met. You don’t regret a single second you spend in their presence. Plus, being around them and bearing witness to their playful bickering and sibling antics is… nice. It makes you feel like you’re part of something, even as a spectator of sorts. It’s the closest you’ve felt to having a family in a long time.

It’s nice, and you can’t help but notice that the part of you that longs to stay and continue existing here, in this bubble of happiness and simplicity you’ve found yourself in, seems to grow larger and larger by the day.

x     x     x     x     x  

You’ve made a lot of fond memories on this island, in the little time you’ve been here, but even as bright as your days have been and as peaceful as your nights spent bathing in moonlight, happiness would mean nothing without the lows to balance it out.

It is one such low that you find yourself in tonight.

You’re not quite sure where Hoseok is, or what really spun you into this peculiar mood in the first place, but you’re actually a little grateful that you have this moment to yourself.

It seems that tonight, as the moon gleams across the surface of the ocean and casts the sand in a cool blue glow, it is the time to fall into a brief moment of introspection. You’ve been nothing short of content lately, really, and that shouldn’t be something to give you pause. But the reason you’d ended up here, on this island with all these new friends, in the first place… was because your life prior was anything but full of content.

The only reason you’d pushed on, really, had been your drive for exacting revenge upon Ezra, the Pirate Lord who had cost you everything. It had been your sole reason for living, at times— the only reason you ate, slept, did what you needed to keep yourself in a state of survival. Objectively, it’s very pitiful—possibly the worst way you could have possibly handled the grief thrust upon you so suddenly. But when you’ve been relying on a reason such as that for so long, used it as a crutch and clutched to it as tightly as you have, what are you supposed to do when the cause you’ve shaped your life around begins to lose meaning to you?

That is kind of what you’re dealing with now.

The only reason you’d have to leave this island, would be to chase down the Pirate Lord and continue where you left off in exacting your revenge before the whole merman hitch in your plans. Your life, as it is in this moment, currently has nothing else to offer as motivation or drive. Your life outside of this island existed around tracking that pirate and counting down the days until you could pay him back for what he did to you. So if you left, what would you have to return to except a life that you could barely say you were really living?

You’re coming to realise and accept that, really, you don’t want to leave. Somehow, at some point, following the plans you’d spend years forming and killing Ezra began to mean less to you than staying here on this island with a bunch of royal mermen and yourself for company. That’s how it is now, you’re realising. The blazing inferno of rage and hatred inside of you that drove you for so long has begun to fade and you don’t quite know what to do with yourself in the absence of its scorching, all-encompassing heat and the light, airy contentment and happiness that has replaced it.

You’re not sure how long you spend ruminating on this, turning it over again and again and again in your head, but it is probably a few hours. You’re a little scared of this development, unsure and apprehensive. A part of you knows the right path to take, knows what you will have to let go off, but for now… You don’t think you’re ready quite yet to face it.

“Got a lot on your mind, pretty pearl?”

You jump almost a foot in the air, nearly slipping from the large rock you’re perched so precariously on. At the sound of Hoseok’s voice, you wonder how the hell you’re hearing it—before you remember a split second later that instead of the beach, you’d chosen to spend this night thinking on the strip of rocks that extends into the shallows of the ocean. The rock you’re sitting on is massive and in the water where it’s deep enough for Hoseok to swim, evidently. You wonder how he found you when usually you’re by one of the water holes further inland of the island.

When you turn to face him, it’s hard not to let all the air your lungs hold escape in a stunned whoosh. As always, the merman is beautiful, and beneath the moon’s rays his markings glow and he’s positively radiant.

His dark hair is still dripping from his time beneath the surface, curling cutely across his forehead. His scales glimmer in the moonlight and his eyes are large and hold something indecipherable in their depths as they regard you. He has draped his upper half over the rock beside you and is resting his chin on his hand as he stares your way. It makes your stomach flutter and dip.

“You could say that,” you say, still trying to calm your heart from the fright he gave you. Hoseok blinks up at you, waiting patiently in case you want to disclose more. You let out a sigh, figuring that you may as well.

“I was thinking… about the Pirate Lord, the one that held you hostage.”

You might have expected Hoseok’s features to contort into a look of distaste, and you do see the barest traces of a frown around his lips, but to your surprise his expression overall remains somewhat neutral. If anything, he seems curious as to where you’re going with this.

“That oaf?” the merman questions, eliciting the barest smile from you. “What did he do to have the privilege of occupying your thoughts?”

The soft smile on your lips turns to a grimace before you can stop it, and Hoseok seems to sense his folly. He retracts slightly, before moving forward and reaching to brush your hand. You welcome the touch, turning your palm up, and he wastes no time grasping your hand and intertwining your fingers, playing with your fingertips.

“When I was much younger, barely a teenager, my younger siblings and I accompanied my parents on a trip to an island about a day’s sail away.” A heavy, unsteady breath leaves you as you try to order your thoughts and keep yourself in check. It has been long enough since the incident that you no longer cry when thinking about it, usually, but still… you are feeling especially vulnerable tonight. “My parents had two different professions, but shared a common ground. My mother cooked for high-end restaurants and my father was a healer. They were going to the island for ingredients, since it was meant to have an abundance.”

You can almost feel Hoseok’s eyes sweeping over your features as you continue. “They didn’t want to leave us alone, and thought it would be a nice few days to spend together, so they took us along. It went well, for the most part. It was on the trip back that things went sour.”

Biting your lip, you sniffled slightly before pushing on. “The small ship we’d paid to ferry us had the misfortune of crossing the path of a pirate ship on the way back. It was Ezra’s ship, and when they boarded they were ruthless. They took everything, all the wealth and supplies…. He took everything, including my family.”

“The only reason I wasn’t killed that day,” you sniffle once more, eyes stinging. “Was because my mother pushed me overboard. She didn’t get to push my siblings after me before the pirates got them. And I… I watched as bodies fell into the water around me, and the pirates stripped that ship bare. I watched as they sailed away, leaving nothing but destruction and despair in their wake. I…”

“I somehow managed to get back onto the ship, because I knew I’d probably get eaten by sharks if I stayed in the water—or I’d drown. I was found a few days later by chance, but… I’ll never forgive that pirate for what he did. I can’t. That’s why I was on the ship that night,” you say, your voice choking only slightly in your throat as you turn to face Hoseok. “I went to kill him.”

To your surprise, Hoseok’s eyes are glistening as he stares at you, lips pressed together but chin wobbling slightly. “I’m sorry, y/n…”

His voice is huskier, rougher than usual in his upset as it greets your ears—you hurry and smack his hand gently, reprimanding. He jerks in surprise, eyes shooting wide. “It’s not your fault, silly boy. I’m glad I ended up finding you, and pushing you overboard. I was going to set the whole ship on fire, you know. I don’t think that would have fared well for you.”

Hoseok musters a laugh. “No, probably not,” he agrees.

You chuckle a little as well, allowing a small blanket of silence to fall between you for a moment. A part of you wants to continue, to spill the rest of your thoughts to the sweet merman currently tracing patterns over the back of your hand with his thumb, but you don’t even know how to begin processing them yourself. A lot of the mess in your mind and heart aren’t even thoughts yet, still in the rudimentary stages where they exist as nothing but pure feelings and energies, and have yet to be dissected by your rational mind. You think that tonight you’re a bit too tired to begin that process.

Distantly, you register the sound of shuffling beside you, indicating that Hoseok is shifting, and think nothing of it. That is, until his hand tightens around yours just moments before he hauls back and gives a firm tug to your arm that pulls you completely off balance.

“HOSEOK—!” you shriek, flying from the rock with how hard he yanked you. You tumble into the water, deep enough that you can’t touch, with only Hoseok’s grip on your hand tethering you to anything solid. Your entire form is immediately drenched in cool water, salt gracing your tastebuds and burning your nose a little.

When your head breaches the surface you direct your glare to the merman that seems entirely too happy with himself.

“What the hell, Hoseok?!” you cry, shaking your head slightly and blinking away the salty water. Your legs do their best to keep you above the water, and you let out an ‘eep!’ as something smooth and cool brushes your ankle, followed by something wispy. Hoseok’s tail, you realise belatedly.

Seeing that you’re struggling to tread water with one of your hands bound in his, the merman takes the liberty of pulling you closer to him; the sea is calm today, and only the gentlest rocking of waves lap against your skin as you draw closer. The second you’re within reach and his hand comes to clutch your waist, you grip his arm with your free hand.

The merman laughs at how you cling to him, freeing your hand so that he can slip both arms around your waist and entwine his hands at your lower back. You can feel your cheeks warm, face overwhelmingly hot, and your heart pattering against your chest overexcitedly.

“I’m about to cheer you up,” he says sweetly, confidently, with the brightest smile. You can’t stop the way any annoyance you feel instantly flees your body, form going slack in his grasp. He’s more than strong enough to hold you up, his powerful tail treading below you and pushing the two of you a little further out to sea, presumably so he has more room to move.

“I’m not that sad,” you argue weakly, unable to help the fond twitch of your own lips. Hoseok laughs, adjusting his hold on you and making your heartrate spike.

“No sadness is better than a little sadness!” he says, finally coming to a halt a little further out than the rocks. You know for sure you can’t touch here, and wonder what exactly he’s up to that requires pulling you into the water with him. “In my experience, something that always cheers me up is dancing. So…”

Your brows shoot up, an undertone of panic seeping into your voice, “Wait, you remember I can’t breathe underwater right?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, drumming his fingers against your lower back and getting them caught in the floating material of your shirt. “Yes. Merfolk dance underwater but that doesn’t mean you have to, sweet pearl.”

You keep your suspicious gaze on him for a moment, but decide to go with it when he begins to clutch you closer and use his tail to spin the two of you around. The water sloshes and laps at you as you move through it, a giddy feeling entering your stomach.

“That’s good,” you smile, meeting his eyes and feeling yourself grow trapped in their glimmering depths. “I don’t feel like drowning tonight, you know?”

Hoseok lets out a tinkling laugh, head tilting back from the force of it. When he returns his gaze to yours, he doesn’t say anything. He simply smiles, and begins to spin the two of you faster.

Fluidly, with grace you’re not surprised that he possesses, Hoseok spins and twirls the two of you. When it seems you grow comfortable with the movement he’s set up, he begins to branch out and twirl you a little differently. He begins humming his own little tune and grips your waist to lift you into the air slightly—it pulls a flustered shriek from you and it takes all he has not to break his tune to laugh.

Spin you in, spin you out—every time he pulls you back to him he leans in and brushes his nose against yours, nuzzling against your cheek just barely. You can barely keep up with the overexcited beating of your heart, stomach a maelstrom of butterflies, and can’t contain the soft laughter that bubbles up from the depths of your being at his cute antics.

He said that he would cheer you up, and that’s exactly what he does—it has to be the early hours of the morning but you’re wide awake and all you can focus on is the warmth where his body meets yours and the gentle caress of his fins, his hands, his nose against your own. It feels like your heart is about to burst.

Dancing in the waves with him, it’s as though your heart has never before known pain, heartbreak, or grief. He lights the darkest parts of your world with his moonkissed glow and his beaming smile, and you never want it to end. Just for tonight, you allow yourself to bask in the realisation that has been haunting you so persistently lately, allow the magic of the moon and its light to wash over you.

You want to stay. And here in Hoseok’s arms, you can’t imagine feeling any other way.

x     x     x     x     x     x

“I still stand by what I said—I think this cave is a little too risky for you to be adventuring in…”

Brow raised, you send Hoseok a probing look over your shoulder. It’s been almost a week since that night spent dancing beneath the moon, and Hoseok has hardly split from your side since.

“I’ve been in this cave before? We’ve both been in this cave before?” You pat one of the rocks jutting from the wall, as though to emphasise its sturdiness and reliability. “What makes you say this now? Every time I’ve come in to get those berries you’ve accompanied me and never said anything before.”

Hoseok shifts, tip of his tail lashing near the surface of the water and leaving ripples in its wake. He seems uncertain, yet somehow also determined. It’s an interesting combination and you wonder how it is that he has it.

“I don’t know,” he says, voice trailing off. “Something just feels… off, today.”

You tilt your head, surveying him for a moment. The merman appears a little conflicted, having this sensation within him but not knowing the cause. He continues to follow you deeper into the cave, however, eyes sweeping over the rocks and water as he bickers with a little less zest than usual. Luminescent algae are what illuminate your path, glowing from beneath the water and scattered in patches across the cave wall. The channel of water he’s swimming in alongside your narrow rock path isn’t consistent, and before long he’s popping in and out of small water pools to keep up. He disappears for a while, a long stretch of rock between the pool he was just in and the next one, and when he resurfaces he still seems a little on edge. You’re curious as to what has him so uneasy, but don’t want to give him the excuse to drag you out by humouring him. You want those berries, damn it!

You get far enough into the cave and close enough to the berries you’re eagerly searching for that you all but dismiss Hoseok’s worries completely from your mind. That is, until something happens that proves they were warranted. It’s no one’s fault, of course. It couldn’t have occurred if the cave wasn’t structurally compromised in the first place.

When you next step, your hand rests a little too hard on a rock that is a little too unstable in the structure. It comes loose, falling into the water with a pronounced plop, and both Hoseok and yourself are still in silence for a moment. Then there is a great, grinding creak and the wall the rock came from begins to crumble and tumble. One harsh sound of rock smacking into rock greets your ears before it duplicates, again and again in barely milliseconds so that you’re left with an abrasive cacophony against your ears. Hoseok just barely manages to snag your wrist in time to yank you into the water and out of the way.

Your vision is obscured by water and bubbles of air rushing to the surface, something you don’t get to do until a few moments later when Hoseok’s grip shifts and he hauls you up instead of holding you down, out of the way of rocks that pelt and sink into the water.

The second your head breaches the surface you’re gasping in air greedily, eyes clenched shut until you can finally crack them open without making them sting. Your vision is slightly blurry but after a few blinks it clears, revealing a panicked-looking Hoseok who is brushing his hands all over your face and body, checking for injuries. Heat graces your cheeks despite the poor timing and you smack his arm as you attempt to hastily tread water. You didn’t realise it just before, momentarily distracted by Hoseok as you so often found yourself to be, but that cave-in had, well, literally caved you in. You felt the slightest tendrils of panic begin to scratch at the bottom of your lungs as it sank in that all the air you’re breathing from is coming from the little pocket your head is in, the water at your shoulders and rock hovering barely a foot above your head.

“y/n,” Hoseok’s hands move to cup your cheeks, refocusing your attention on him. “y/n, are you alright? Did you get hurt anywhere?”

Somewhat flustered despite the situation at his care and concern, you can only manage to shake your head. Hoseok releases a great huff of relief at that, pulling closer and wrapping his arms around your waist while using his powerful tail to keep the two of you afloat. You shoot him a grateful look—you’re not a poor swimmer at all, but even you grow tired after treading water for some time.

“I knew I had a bad feeling for a reason,” he fusses, moving as though he’s pacing in the water, with you attached to him. It would be a funny sight, were this any other situation. “We need to get you out of here before it collapses any more. Alright, on the count of three—”

He stops suddenly, eyes staring into the wall as grim realisation washes over him. “No, no… that won’t work.”

You think you know where his thoughts have gone, but ask just in case. “What won’t work?”

Hoseok turns his gaze to you, looking incredibly conflicted and slightly remorseful.

“I was going to ask you to hold your breath, and then I would duck us under and take us out of this pocket but… the nearest water opening is too far—you won’t be able to hold your breath that long.”

You try not to let it show on your face, but it feels as though a pit of dread has opened up in your stomach at his words. Even with your stellar acting, he seems to sense your inner reaction. His fingers tighten in their hold on you, his teeth coming to sink into his bottom lip.

“- -- -- --” he says suddenly, the words unfamiliar to your ears but said with enough heat that you’re able to gather they’re probably curses, in whatever language makes up his mother tongue. “Gods, okay, what do I do, what do I do—”

His breath is coming shorter with each word and it doesn’t take much for you to realise he’s panicking.

“Hoseok,” you cut his frantic gibberish off and bring your hands to cup his cheeks, forcing him to face you. “Calm down, it’s okay. There’s a way out of this.”

The merman shoots you a look that seems to be a cross between exasperated and incredulous, before he decides to heed your advice and takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed. You brush your thumb over his cheekbone, watching as a stray droplet of water slides down from his hairline and over the sculpted planes of his face.

“Okay, there’s a way,” Hoseok breathes in through his nose and then out through his mouth. “I just have to…”

There is the briefest moment of silence, in which your own panic begins to return a little, before Hoseok is jumping in the water and taking you with him as his tail propels the two of you upwards. You yelp, head narrowly missing the rock barely a foot above your head, and Hoseok shoots you an apologetic look. It doesn’t last long, soon making way for relief.

He frees an arm to reach down into the water, and you’re sure the algae would be light enough for you to see what he is doing, but you don’t really want to look down into the bottomless water pit right now. Hoseok doesn’t leave you wondering for long, hand coming back up with something in his grasp.

His fist uncurls, revealing an oddly shaped violet pearl sitting in the centre of his palm. He brings it to his face, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

“Namjoon,” he says, “I need your help.”

Then, surprising you less than you might have expected, he brings the pearl to his lips before turning his hand upside down and dropping it into the water. You do look down this time, watching as it sinks quickly down, down, down—until it disappears deep into the inky blackness that even the glowing algae can’t penetrate with its light.

As soon as the pearl leaves his grasp, Hoseok is quick to return his arm to where it had been around your waist. His touch elicits an inappropriate round of butterflies, and in the interest of not making a fool of yourself in such close quarters, you do your best to ignore it.

“What will the pearl do?” you ask, voice mostly level aside from a tremble at the end. Hoseok notices it immediately and leans his head forward, brushing his nose with yours and offering a reassuring smile. You’re glad to see he’s stopped panicking for the time being.

“It will find Namjoon,” he informs you, voice a soft murmur as he allows his eyes to close and he presses your foreheads together. It makes your stomach dip and your heart leap. “And, hopefully, Namjoon will come to help us.”

“Why Namjoon?” you inquire, more than a little curious.

“Because he’s an apprentice to the sea witch.”

To your surprise, it’s not Hoseok’s voice that answers you, but that of the merman in question. You turn in shock, ripping your face away from Hoseok’s as heat blooms across your cheeks; you hadn’t even heard him surface. The dimpled male merely smiles cheekily at the two of you, before turning his gaze to the tiny pocket of air the three of you are now occupying.

“Well, how did this happen?” he asks, eyes flicking between the two of you as he waits for answers.

“The cave, well… caved us in.” Hoseok huffs, giving the rock above and around you the stink eye. He turns back to his brother. “I need your help because, well… we’re stuck and the next closest pocket of air or water hole… they’re too far away.”

He doesn’t need to spell out the fact that you’re just human, and can’t hold your breath that long, because Namjoon seems to grasp the issue at hand the second Hoseok informs him of the situation. His teeth sink into his lip as he falls into deep thought, eyes flicking between you, Hoseok, and then the rocks and cave remnants around you.

“You’re right,” he murmurs softly in response to Hoseok, so quiet you’d almost think he is mumbling to himself. He hums shortly, once, and then he’s looking up with something gleaming behind his eyes.

“I—”

Just as Namjoon goes to speak and enlighten you on the solution he’s come up with, there is a dreadful creak and groan as the rocks shift above you, some dust sprinkling down to the water from where they press and grind against each other. A brief surge of fear bolts through you, your breath catching. You barely take note of it yourself, but Hoseok is so utterly attuned to you and your mannerisms that he catches it immediately. He alters his grip, hugging your closer and bringing a hand to brush along the nape of your neck, fingers playing and attempting to card through the tangled, wet locks there, with minimal success. The movement wrenches an instinctive shiver from you though, and you turn your gaze from the rocks to him, successfully distracted from your brief spell of worry.

Namjoon surveys the ceiling carefully for a moment, before he returns his eyes to the two of you and resumes where he’d been cut off. “I think I have an idea, but… I don’t know if it will work. I’ve never tried it before. Sunmi refused to tell me about it, and Hyolyn hasn’t really taught me much about it yet…”

There’s a little bit of a nervous undercurrent to his voice, but you’re not really in a position to be doubting him. If you can’t get out of this pocket, then, well…

You gulp. You have to get out of this pocket.

“Anything, Joon,” Hoseok says, a pleading note in his tone. “If you have an idea, I trust you.”

Namjoon stares at his brother for a moment, biting his lip as he thinks it through, before finally he nods. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s dipping back into the water and disappearing down, down, down into the depths of the hole you were currently afloat in. Well, you say afloat, but really it’s just Hoseok keeping the two of you with your heads above the surface. You have to credit his tail, the powerful limb treading water effortlessly below you. Every so often one of his wispy fins will brush your leg, and you can’t help but let out a short giggle. Every time, without fail, the noise brings a bright smile to Hoseok’s lips, and subsequent heat to your cheeks as you realise he has been watching you the whole time.  

Trying to distract yourself from the possible undesirable outcome of the situation, you choose to voice the question that floated to the top of your mind when Namjoon was here.

“Who are Sunmi and Hyolyn?” you ask, tilting your head minutely. Unbeknownst to you, Hoseok has to bite his lip so he doesn’t coo in adoration.

“They’re sea witches,” he says, getting straight to the point. “Hyolyn isn’t affiliated with the court, she lives on the outer reaches of the kingdom and prefers her solitude. Sunmi studied under her, much like Namjoon is, and chose to pledge her services to the court. Namjoon was meant to become apprentice to only Sunmi, but he has ended up bouncing between both in his thirst for knowledge.”

You nod as he finishes telling you, soaking up the information. You hadn’t known before that Namjoon was a witch’s apprentice, and now that you do know… well, you don’t really know what to do with the information. With every little tidbit Hoseok tells you, you fall a little more in love with his world, and… its occupants, evidently. It’s as though you’ve stumbled into the prettiest of spiderwebs, and each new thing you learn has you wrapped more and more in sticky silk. You’re in so deep now, can you bare to depart this world that you’re coming to recognise as your own?

An alarming series of thoughts, you realise. You decide to leave unpacking them for another day.

The two of you talk softly to pass time, a nervous undercurrent growing more tangible in the air the longer Namjoon is away. It’s as Hoseok tells you about some of the other members of the court that there is a soft splash and Namjoon resurfaces next to you, water cascading down his face from the abruptness of the motion. He shakes his head, showering you and Hoseok in a generous amount of droplets, before grinning at the two of you.

“Okay, I have what I need.” He reaches down, pulling something from a satchel at his side. When his hand rises and parts the water surface, there is a flower sitting in the centre of his palm. It’s deep purple and marine, with thin, fluorescent patterns curling across the petals. It’s coated in a shimmering sheen that reflects blue as it shifts in the light. “We should hurry—Hyolyn warned that the caves won’t last much longer before they continue crumbling.”

His words elicit a funny sensation in your abdomen, a mixture between dread and anticipation with a sprinkling of inappropriate excitement.

“Do what?” Hoseok asks, eyeing the flower dubiously. “What is the Trench Bloom for?”

Namjoon, despite seeming as though he’d anticipated the question, still appears somewhat exasperated. “It’s easier if I show you.”

Somewhat confused but also much, much more curious, you focus on Namjoon as he faces you. “Okay, y/n. I am going to do something in a moment, but after that I need you to put this flower in your mouth, and then I need you to dip under the water. When you’re under there, move the flower to the back of your throat—you don’t have to swallow it but it’s okay if you do. What I’m trying to do will still work.”

When you nod, he mirrors the motion, giving you the flower to hold. He reaches down again, pulling a small sealed shell from the satchel around his waist. Once it is out of the water, he uses one of his nails to crack it open, revealing a small pile of dark powder sitting within its pearlescent walls—it takes a moment before the grains catch in the light and you realise it’s actually finely crushed pearls. Namjoon wets his thumb, getting Hoseok to face you towards him before he dabs his thumb in the powder and swipes it in three lines across either side of your neck, and then in a line down your sternum. He remains focused, but you can’t help but blush at the action—a sneaky glance to the side reveals a certain tick in Hoseok’s jaw as he observes what is happening, still confused but thankful for the help.

“Alright,” Namjoon mumbles, and once more you wonder whether its for your benefit or his own. “Okay, time for your part. You might see some white or blue light—don’t worry, it’s just moon magic.”

“Moon magic?” you can’t help but question, brows raising. “Isn’t it daytime still?”

Namjoon chuckles softly, closing the shell and placing it away. “The moon is one with the ocean and the tides, and just as we are one with the ocean we are connected to the moon. The magic that runs through our veins, is moon magic.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding, mind racing. It takes a little strength to refocus and bring your mind back to the present, where there are somehow certainly more pressing matters than magic. “That’s fair. Okay, I’ll… I’ll do that thing now.”

Namjoon nods encouragingly at you, and you feel Hoseok’s hands stroke reassuringly down your back. You shoot him a thankful smile, before returning your attention to the task at hand. Swallowing your pride, you open your mouth and deposit the small flower inside, brows raising as it instantly begins to dissolve on your tongue and a salty, sweet flavour melts across your tastebuds. You take in a breath through your nose, before you feel Hoseok’s grip loosen and you let yourself drop a few feet beneath the surface, water cold as it splashes and caresses your exposed skin.

As soon as you’re under, you do as you were instructed and move the flower to the back of your mouth—still with no idea as to what it’s actually going to do. You can’t think of any possible way that a flower is going to be the solution to your limited human capabilities, but then again… this is magic, you suppose.

Just as you manage to fight the urge to swallow, Hoseok and Namjoon join you beneath the surface. Hoseok hovers, tail lashing and fins flaring, the twitch of his fingers conveying a barely restrained urge to reach out for you. You don’t know when exactly the merman started being so outright protective and caring towards you, but even now as your lungs begin to weigh the slightest bit heavier in your chest, it makes your heart skip a beat.

Namjoon opens his mouth, speaking things that you can barely manage to catch a hint of through the water in your ears. He reaches forward, light hair floating in the water like a halo, and presses his hand firmly against your sternum where he’d painted a line with crushed pearl earlier. Hoseok’s teeth gnash together as he watches, taking note of the bubbles of air escaping you and growing anxious.

Before you even begin to doubt Namjoon and whatever his idea is, you start to feel it. It’s like a tingle, a live current beneath your skin. It runs up your spine and circles around the crown of your head, before coursing back down and stimulating the nerves in your arms, and legs, with a soft prickle. The current runs an exhilarating loop of your body before it changes course, growing centred around your throat, chest and shoulders. A large gasp escapes you as the sensation intensifies, the large bubble of air obscured by a glow that begins to make itself known around your body. Alright, you seemed fine with the knowledge of magic earlier but seeing it in action actually makes it sink in, and you’re a little alarmed.

The buzzing beneath your skin grows louder until you can hear it ringing, a low tone in your ears. Your chest burns and just when your arms flail and your lungs ache too much to bear, it all stops. It’s over, and relief courses through you. You let out the remaining air in your mouth in a huff, flower having already dissolved on your tongue, and greedily breathe in the oxygen you were deprived of now that the spell is done.

Wait a minute—breathe in?

Your eyes shoot open from where you hadn’t even realised they were closed, arms whipping through the water in shock as you realise that yes, you just took a breath underwater and didn’t drown, and yes you just did it again and you’re still not drowning!

Unable to stop the knee-jerk reaction, you let out a laugh, slapping a hand over your mouth as no bubbles escape and looking, wide-eyed, between the two mermen. Namjoon is grinning brightly, clearly ecstatic that the spell has worked, and Hoseok seems a cross between discombobulated, shocked, and cautiously excited.

“I can breathe!” you burst, expecting a muffled noise but receiving a crisp rendition of your voice instead. You slap a hand to your cheeks, eyes still wide. “I can talk?!”

Namjoon bursts into laughter, and you hear every note of it clear as day, as though you’re above the surface again. Hoseok’s concerned expression has now bled into one of excitement, and the second the shock wears off he’s darting forward. His fingers run all over you, toughing your face, cheeks, lips, throat, neck—all in wonderment.

“Y-you can breathe!” he bursts, in a similar fashion to the way you did just a minute prior. His fingers catch on something that feels odd at your throat, and your own fingers rise to investigate. They brush upon slits in the flesh, clean and without pain.

Were they…?

You shoot Hoseok a questioning look, and he nods. “Gills.”

You don’t know how to feel about that, but it has saved your life so you’ll take it.

“Oh my gosh,” you say, tone light in disbelief. “I’m breathing underwater? How long will I be able to…?”

Namjoon picks up on the question currently occupying your mind, and offers you a kind smile. His tail whips as he adjusts his position, long, thin fins trailing through the water like ribbon.

“The spell should last around three hours—so you can spend some time sightseeing before you have to return to the surface,” he informs you, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Just make sure that you return when your lungs begin to burn again—that will mean the spell is about to end. Alright?”

You nod hastily, excitement beginning to bubble in your abdomen. You don’t even get to voice your thanks before Hoseok is grabbing you by the wrists and spinning you to face him, a smile brighter than the sun almost blinding you for a moment. God, he’s beautiful.

“y/n, sightseeing!” he bursts, unable to contain himself now that the danger of the situation is mostly behind you. He’s almost vibrating with excitement as he spins you with him, just narrowly avoiding the close rock walls of the pool. “I can show you everything I’ve told you about! And more! There’s so much I haven’t even had a chance to tell you yet!”

Namjoon laughs, reaching out to halt Hoseok before he makes you too dizzy—you might be able to breathe now but the spell didn’t alter your sense of equilibrium all that much. You really don’t want to find out how it would go down if you vomited underwater.

Thankfully, Hoseok quickly takes the hint and simply adjusts so he’s holding you around the waist, saving you the trouble of treading water. It’s thoughtful yet subtle, and so very Hoseok that your heart warms in your chest and feels as though it’s glowing as luminous as the algae lighting the cave. Still, even though he has stopped spinning you, Hoseok just can’t take the grin off his face.

“I have to return to my duties—you called me in the middle of a lesson—but show her the sights, hyung,” Namjoon smiles, light hair floating endearingly across his forehead. “Take her around—oh, you should show her the palace, too. I’m sure the others would love to see her as well.”

Hoseok huffs at the last part, but otherwise seems to completely agree with his brother’s sentiment. “I will.”

Namjoon nods, bidding you farewell with another smile before he’s turning in the water and shooting down into the depths of the pool, propelled with a single powerful stroke of his tail. You watch him disappear with wide eyes, in awe at his speed. You can’t imagine being able to move that fast on land, let alone in the water!

“Come on, y/n, let’s get out of here.” The bright tone of Hoseok’s voice returns your attention to the merman before you. When you look at him again, you’re momentarily taken aback—sure, he’s always stunning, but sometimes it really takes you out. Like now. Inky hair and oil-slick scales glimmering in the low glow of the algae, his eyes bright and wide as he stares at you with something indecipherable that makes your heart dip and race. “We have so many places to go before your time is up!”

His words are somewhat ominous, despite the fact you know what he means, and you can’t help but think he’s lucky that he’s so cute and you’re in love with him, or else he’d get a smack for frightening you.

Wait, back up. You’re what now?

You don’t even have time to dwell on the very abrupt and unwarranted thought that just blared its way through your mind like a foghorn, because Hoseok is looping your arms and entwining your fingers with his. Usually, Hoseok is cool to the touch, thanks to the fact his body runs at a lower temperature than yours, but now that you’re deep in water that is much cooler, his skin offers a pleasant warmth where it brushes your own. It’s addictive, and you have to fight to stop yourself from initiating more contact than you can get away with.

Beginning to chatter excitedly about where he’s going to take you, Hoseok turns in the water, and begins to pull you down. Your heart begins to race for a different reason, the further down you venture—with each moment that passes it gets darker, denser. The water feels thicker, heavier, but you’re still able to breathe and it’s salty on your tongue yet uncharacteristically refreshing and crisp against your throat. The darkness and confined walls of the tunnel are what have your pulse thudding a little louder in your ears, a fear of the unknown combining with the exhilarating anticipation of a new adventure to synthesise a titillating cocktail of sensations within you.

It does scare you a little, yes, but you trust Hoseok—and even if he were to lead you to certain doom at the end of this tunnel, you’d accept it with a smile because the whole way there he held your hand like it is the most precious thing he’ll ever touch.

God, you’re so whipped. How did you never notice this before?!

You spend enough time in the tunnel that you’re painfully aware of it. It isn’t long though, before, to your surprise, it begins to curve and bend, each one taking you in a new direction. Hoseok handles the turns with ease, pulling your body with his easily and fluidly. You round one last corner, zooming  down another tunnel and suddenly there is light, glaring at you in the rapidly-approaching distance— Hoseok speeds up, pulling you effortlessly beside him, and soon you’re breaking out into an open space, the sudden brightness blinding you for a moment.

When your eyes adjust, a loud gasp leaves you. The sight before you, in a word, is magnificent. All your turning and winding in the tunnels has lead you here; to a massive, open space—the ceiling is littered with holes of various sizes, short tunnels that cast sunlight into the area from above, illuminating the floor and walls that blend from pale brown rock to soft sandstone, patterns refracted from the surface of the water dancing across in pools of light.

Scattered over the wall are the occasional crack and fissure, long wefts of kelp and pretty flowers you’d never seen before but are instantly in love with sprouting from inside and drifting with the minimal current.  It’s breathtaking, the glimpses of blue sky and greenery above with the warm tones of the rock around you. Splotches of colour sit along the bottom corners of the room, different types of coral twining around each other like intricate blooms. Your admiration of your current surroundings is cut off when Hoseok suddenly jumps in front of you, recapturing your attention with a bright grin and excited lash of his tail.

“This isn’t the palace yet! This is just a little area above it, the tunnels lead to most of the waterholes on the island—I sometimes come here to think or dance. I think Yoongi used to come here to nap too before he discovered that above the surface is a better hiding spot.” Hoseok is babbling now, words coming out so fast you can feel his excitement and enthusiasm, and you don’t have the heart to tell him to slow down. His hands grasp yours, swinging them around like a child.

“There are so many things to show you, what should we see first? The palace? The gardens? The city centre?” Hoseok begins to pull you towards one of the bigger holes, the opening of a tunnel that seems to lead downwards and is lit from within. A gasp escapes him suddenly, and he shoots you a wide-eyed look. “Oh! I know! Hold on, I know where to take you!”

And all you can do is hold on, really, because in the next second he’s diving down the tunnel at breakneck speed and dragging you like a doll behind him. Admittedly, with a little more care than that phrase implies. But still, you’re quite taken aback. This whole time Hoseok has had such boundless energy, and you never knew? Being completely submerged in the water, his natural element, his home— it really makes him into another person. It sets him free.

It’s beautiful to witness.

Hoseok is sure to make the most of your limited time underwater, packing the few hours as full of experiences as he can. You do, as a human breathing underwater, garner a few odd looks here and there from the occasional merfolk you pass on your ventures, but it doesn’t dampen your mood in the slightest. And even if it did, you have a very distinct feeling Hoseok wouldn’t let that be the case for very long.

He’s almost glowing with happiness as he shows you the underwater city that is his home. First, he takes you to the very outskirts of the civilisation, showing you the large, impossibly deep fissure that stretches for miles and appears like a moat around half of the city. It’s stunning, the very bottom pitch black and broken only by the glimmer of bubbles as they make their way to the surface, released from geysers and cracks in the sea floor. When you see it, you immediately want to get closer, but Hoseok halts you with a cheerful warning—apparently the fissure is prone at any moment to releasing massive gusts of scorching water and steam, forming a makeshift wall around the kingdom edges. He informs you that it’s actually usually always alive, and that you’ve actually just managed to catch one of the times that the geysers cool down.

Right as he finishes informing you of that, the aforementioned trenches grumble and groan, and the wall of heated water and air he mentioned shoots up with magnificent force. Awe-inspiring as it is, you nearly scare half to death as a result, and your reaction is something Hoseok isn’t keen on letting go of anytime soon. He needs fodder for future arguments should he begin to lose, after all.

Not a minute of your time is wasted. Hoseok shows you the sights from the outer parts of the city, and makes his way inwards bit by bit. He shows you the markets district, where merfolk set up their stalls and trade goods for lost treasures and the like. Beautiful silken material is sold at a stall closest to the town centre, fabric rippling and flowing like tendrils of coloured ink in the water. Hoseok tells you what they’re made of, a long list of ingredient names that mean nothing to you and yet the bright smile on his face keeps you hooked on every word. You visit almost every stall there, the vendors cheering and greeting Hoseok enthusiastically the second they see him. He gifts you two things – a necklace with mother of pearl and obsidian beads, and a large blanket spun from the finest materials the kingdom has to offer, so you can ‘keep warm on land as the cooler months approach’—both of which he pays the vendors handsomely for with several golden and silver human trinkets from his pouch. You have no idea where they came from or whether he has been carrying them this whole time, but you’re not about to stop him. He’s generous, so kind, and he’s so loved. You can see it in the eyes of those you pass as they fall upon him, how they light up and smile. They love their prince, and when you mention this to Hoseok he laughs and tells you that, actually, it’s probably the youngest three princes that are most beloved by all.

You refuse to believe it.

He takes you deeper into the kingdom, stopping by parks and stone playgrounds and getting unwittingly side-tracked by all the spritely little merchildren who haven’t grown into their fins yet. They zip about, weaving in and out and all around the stones so speedily and with such utter joy you’re half a beat away from offering to join them as well. With Hoseok, they seem to have even more fun, if possible. He plays with them, gives them his all, but even then he is conscious of the time he has with you down here and he sadly bids them farewell before long. It kind of hurts to say goodbye (somehow the little underwater cherubs managed to worm their way into your heart in the less than ten minutes  you were with them), but not a moment is spared dwelling on the feeling because Hoseok has already entwined your hands together and is leading you to the next destination.

It’s a vast field of underwater flora that he shows you next, and it’s just as breathtaking as everything else you’ve seen so far. High, looming arches of sandstone litter the area, vines with long, gossamer leaves and large-petaled flowers winding around them and floating, dancing with the current. Along the floor is a sea of vibrant anemone, all of them waving at you as you grow closer, tendrils entangling with their neighbours. There are other plants, more than you can name or take in, but it all adds together for probably some of the most beautiful scenery you’ve ever seen. It’s wild, left to nature, and so, so mesmerising. You can feel your heart ache at the beauty. Hoseok lets you linger here a little longer, admiring you when you’re not looking as you tickle some of the plants and giggle at their response.

The monuments, the landmarks, the palace—Hoseok shows you it all. By the time you arrive and see the palace properly, you don’t have much longer of the spell left to enjoy. Still, Hoseok tries to do as much as possible in the time you have left.

Miraculously yet almost unsurprisingly, you manage to run into Hoseok’s brothers one by one, and end up collecting them in your ‘tour group’ as you go along. Eventually, you have them all, and Hoseok decides it’s the perfect setting to spend the last of your time doing something fun. It becomes clear what that is when they lead you to a room with something you recognise in the corner, melding to the wall.

They decide to put on a show for you.

Being mermen, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are that they’re all incredibly gifted with music, singing and instruments. Some of them play things you’ve never seen before in your life, Yoongi having found an organ somewhere over the years and dragged it home. He plays it with unexpected finesse, and sets the baseline for a melody you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

All of them can sing, but you note that Jimin, Jungkook, Seokjin and Taehyung throw themselves into it the most. Namjoon switches between instruments and harmonising, smiling brightly the whole time. Seokjin sings, belting notes and hitting dulcet tones you’re grateful to be able to hear as they are, and sometimes he tinkers with a metallic little instrument, a soft melody resulting from his nimble fingerwork. Hoseok dances, twirling, dipping and weaving with such grace that it’s all you can do not to become completely mesmerised and bewitched by this, his most earnest form. Before long, Jimin and Jungkook join him, the former dragging along Taehyung. The dance is odd from then on out, shifting between goofy and endearing and heart-wrenchingly hypnotic. You watch happily, sometimes joining in and sometimes retreating; throughout the whole time, Hoseok keeps his gaze on you, and tries to ignore the way his heart throbs as he realises just how perfectly you fit into his world, and just how much he doesn’t want to see it without you again.

By the time their show is over and you begin to feel the weight of your lungs in your chest once more, you’ve decidedly had the best day of your life, even if it did start with a near-death experience. Having shirked his duties to spend time with you, Hoseok can only escort you to the surface, and makes it known with a potent pout how upset he is that he can’t spend anymore time with you afterwards. A cheeky pinch of his cheeks brings the smile back, however, and his mood is somewhat lifted for the rest of the trip up.

The first lungful of air you take after breaching the surface is odd, almost alien, but quickly becomes familiar again when you pull yourself out of the lagoon and onto the sand by your home. A strange shift, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget what it was like to breathe underwater.

Hoseok appears torn, clearly wanting to stay but being obligated to go, and with a quick peck to your forehead (which he had to pull himself halfway out of the water to achieve, mind you) and a longing look, he bids you farewell and dips back beneath the surface.

You sit there for a while after, gazing at the water.

All the thoughts you procrastinated throughout the day come rushing back at once and you’re forced to confront them at last. As your feet sink familiarly into fine sand, the edge of the lagoon lapping at your toes, you’re stunned with the realisation that yes, in such a short time you’ve fallen in love with Hoseok’s world.

And as you climb to your feet and make your way back to your home a while later, it’s with the startling knowledge that even that pales in comparison to your affection for the merman himself.

x     x     x     x     x     x

“Do you want her to stay, hyung?”

“I… I haven’t even…”

“You like her, don’t you, hyung?”

“…”

“We know, Hobi. We see it when you look at her. It’s easy to see what you want—but do you, yourself, know what that is?”

x     x     x     x     x     x

 If someone had told you before you climbed into your boat and rowed out to Pirate Lord Ezra’s ship to assassinate him, that this was what you had to expect in the months following that decision, you’d have sent them to the local doctor for fear they’d come down with something serious.

You don’t think you could have ever guessed your future would become so intricately intertwined with that of mythical beings hiding deep in the oceans. Months, you’ve spent here on this island that has become a home to you, and every day has been a new adventure, a new story to retell in time and a new memory to look back upon fondly. In the absence of the family you’ve grieved over for so long, you’ve managed to find another. Your parents and siblings are never forgotten—but you’ve opened your heart to let others in.

In your time on the island, you’ve begun to do something that you never would have imagined before.

You’ve begun to heal.

The wounds that festered inside you for years on end, the pits of grief and sores of hatred that oozed magma over your insides and set them alight—you can barely feel them anymore.  Each day on the island, with Hoseok and his mischievous brothers, smoothed a balm over them, soothing the ache and making the weight over your chest a little more bearable.

Of course, you’re definitely not upset at the prospect; but you are a little scared. Anxious that despite how far you feel you’ve come, how much you’ve let go, the second you catch wind of the pirate again it will all be shot to hell. You’re terrified of relapsing and going straight back to square one. Because you hadn’t realised it completely before now, but at square one, you were miserable. You don’t ever want to go back to that.

You have a feeling, though, that as long as you’re around Hoseok, you won’t lose all the progress you’ve made. You’ve had a lot of time so far to come to terms with what Hoseok is to you, how you feel about him. When you first saw him, sick and dying on Ezra’s ship, you didn’t expect that eventually you’d fall in love with him. It feels like something an idiot would do, with the gap between your worlds being so large, but… Hoseok makes you happy. He brings you joy and makes you feel treasured, appreciated. You can’t bring yourself to try and stomp out the feelings, and even if you did try you wouldn’t be able to—they’ve had months to bud and bloom and now they’ve matured into something magnificent, something beautiful and irrevocably rooted in your very being.

You doubt you would have even been able to stop yourself from crushing on him in the first place, really. Hoseok is the sweetest summer bloom, with the brightest petals and the most luminous glow beneath the sun. And it was kind of inevitable that you were drawn to him. You’re just a wee little bumblebee, and in each other you find the perfect solution to needs and longings you hadn’t even realised before now. Almost all of Hoseok’s brothers have confessed to you at some point, that they’ve never seen their brother shine as brightly as he has since he met you.

It flustered you to hear that, but you can’t deny the giddy butterflies it set free in your tummy.

It’s as though there are always butterflies of some sort in your tummy, these days. Even as you sit here now, basking in the afternoon sun by your lagoon with Hoseok and Jungkook playing about in the water, shielded from the sun by the trees overhanging the sides, you feel them. It’s from the way every so often Hoseok will look over and check if you’re still watching, if you’re comfortable, if you need anything. Hoseok has a lot of caring little actions he does that never fail to make your heart skip.

It’s peaceful this afternoon, a soothing air washing over you. The breeze, the faint smell of the ocean it carries. You’re very content where you are. The peaceful energy isn’t reciprocated by the other two occupants of the space, though.

“y/n! Hoseok-hyung won’t let me throw him in the air!”

Jungkook’s brief wail is accompanied by a smack of his hands into the water, cold droplets flying and making you jump at the contrast as they hit your heated skin.

Hoseok sends his youngest brother a dubious look. “For good reason—you’re going to end up hurting me or yourself or both of us. I’m saving us both the trouble.”

“He’s being mean, y/n!” Jungkook bolts across the lagoon, sidling up to the rock you’re perched on with eyes already assuming their usual starry-eyed look. “y/n, we’re friends right? Tell him to let me throw him in the air. I want to see how high he will go!”

Hoseok, for some reason, seems slightly panicked. “y/n, don’t you dare think of siding with him—”

Well, you weren’t going to. But if he insists….

“I mean, I was gonna tell him no,” you say, smiling. “But since you don’t want me to—”

Unfortunately, you don’t get to finish teasing Hoseok like you want to. Your words are cut off by the sudden appearance of Jimin and Taehyung, their arrival bringing a generous splash of water that almost drenches you.

“y/n!” Jimin gasps, making a beeline for you with Taehyung hot on his tail. You don’t even get to breathe before they’re grabbing your hands, almost frantic. “y/n! There’s—there’s a—”

“There’s a ship! On the horizon!” Taehyung is unable to contain himself, the words bursting forth as his brother attempts to get across the same message. The words don’t even register as he continues, eyes wide and mouth running a mile a minute. “This is the first time a ship has come so close in almost fifty years, usually they’re turned away by the wards!”

You feel as though you’ve frozen in place. Jimin reclaims your attention as he continues where his brother leaves off, “They’re close enough that if you make enough commotion they’ll see you, y/n. They can take you home!”

A few beats pass in suspense before their words hit you all at once—there’s a ship?! The entire time you’ve been on this island, you haven’t seen hide nor hair of any other humans. It’s as though you’ve been existing in a pocket of the universe that is only for your eyes and those of the mercreatures you share it with. In all honesty, some days you forget completely that this world isn’t your own, that there’s another one waiting for you just across the ocean.

“There’s—there’s a ship?” you can’t help but request confirmation, eyes wide in shock. You’re taken aback by its presence, not because you thought that you would always be stranded here, but because it is like a bucket of icy water has been poured over you and you have been thrust into the sudden and stark realisation that being rescued from this island was something you probably should have been longing for this whole time.

But you hadn’t.

The two twins nod, still vibrating with the excitement and fuss of the whole situation. You want to look at the other two mermen in the lagoon, but can’t seem to make your head move. A pit threatens to open in your stomach at the thought of looking at Hoseok right now. Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, realisation hitting you that you should probably get up and look. It’s the normal thing to do. You force yourself to shift on the rock where you sit, preparing to stand.

“Which beach?” you barely manage to whisper. The twins point behind you, towards the beach you’d spent a lot of time on when you first arrived. The beach where Hoseok dragged you into the water and made you dance with him.

You nod, standing, and this time your gaze moves of its own accord—to Jungkook, who is looking at you with a surprising amount of distress, brows pinched and expression fallen. The youngest’s sadness makes your heart cinch, so you turn your gaze to Hoseok. A mistake.

The only word that comes to mind to describe how Hoseok looks, is gutted. It’s as though you’ve taken something he holds dear and crushed it to pieces right in front of him. He’s still as stone in the water, stunned and frozen as something indecipherable crosses his features.

“y/n…” Jungkook says suddenly, voice thick. When you look again, its as though he’s pleading with his eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll go have a look,” you say, turning and trying not to look at anyone as you do. Even so, you still manage to catch a glimpse of Hoseok’s face as you leave.

And the hurt in his eyes nearly breaks your stride.

You leave the lagoon, heading to the beach hastily. Your mind is a mess—why are you going? But why wouldn’t you go? There’s something deep within you, something you want more desperately than anything ever before, but you can’t figure out what it is. In your daze, you walk into a few bushes on your path and end up with a few scrapes. You don’t even feel it, too preoccupied with the plethora of confusion and distress in your mind.

A ship is here. You should be happy. You don’t belong here, the ship will take you home.

But… that doesn’t feel quite right.

Still, you continue walking the well-worn path you’ve made through the trees to the beach. Gazing upon the lush greenery you pass with a strange sensation building in your chest. As soon as you approach the edge of the forest, you’re able to see it. There, just on the horizon, is a ship. It doesn’t seem to be a pirate ship, appearing more like a cargo carrier. The perfect opportunity. If you want to go home, all you need to do is make a commotion, and catch their attention.

But… do you want to go home?

No, that’s not the right question, because out there doesn’t feel like your home anymore. Your home, is here. Do you want to leave it? Do you want to return to a world where your existence is shaped around tracking down and killing a man who has likely already forgotten you even exist? The old you might have, the one who had only found purpose in avenging the family she lost. But this you… she doesn’t want that.

You take a moment to delve into your thoughts, staring absently at the ship as you do so. You’re sure anyone normal would want to leave a ‘deserted island’ the first chance they got, but you… you want to stay. Why is that? Is it the peace you’ve found here? The way you’ve begun to heal? To experience life in a way you haven’t in years? Maybe. But it’s also something else. Your thoughts keep coming back to the realisation you had when you were underwater, with Hoseok.

Yes, you want to stay for all of those reasons, but most of all, you want to stay because you don’t want to go back to a world without Hoseok.

Love has really pulled a fast one on you with this, you think. You couldn’t have ever accounted for falling in love with the merman that saved your life and brought you to this island. But, it happened, and now… well, you’re in love with the merman that saved your life and brought you to this island.

And you want to stay here. With him.  

You blink back into the present moment, eyes focusing from where they were resting on the ship in the distance. Without even realising, you’ve already come to a decision—perhaps a while ago, before today. You’re not going to flag down the ship, and you’re not going to try and leave. You want to stay here, with Hoseok, and his brothers, and his magical world, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.  

The future you want is here, and you’re not going to run away from it.

The affirmation brings a certain sense of peace to the anxious roiling of your stomach, nerves finally calming from where they were crackling under your skin. Basking in this new sense of… ease, you simply stand, and watch as the ship continues across the horizon. Bit by bit, minute by minute, it grows smaller and smaller until eventually dusk tickles the sky where it meets the sea and the ship is nowhere to be seen.

It’s gone, and you don’t feel a single ounce of regret.

All at once, you come back to the present moment and realise that you just kind of up and left everyone in suspense. You wonder, do they think you attempted to call to the ship? A part of you is saddened by the thought that maybe that was what they wanted, but then you remember the crestfallen look on Jungkook’s face, and Hoseok’s— oh.

You wonder if Hoseok realised you weren’t going to leave.

Briefly, there is a moment of insecurity that flashes through you—what if he wanted you to leave, too? What if he never entertained the idea of you staying? It takes a bit of effort, but you manage to dismiss those worries. No… the way Hoseok looked at you as you walked away—he looked like you’d reached into his chest and carved out his heart with your bare hands. You have a feeling that he didn’t want you to go. A part of you hopes, secretly, for something else, a little more, but… you don’t dare entertain such things just yet.

With the side of the island beginning to darken as the sun drops behind the great hills and peaks, late afternoon bleeding into dusk, you decide to go back. It doesn’t take long, feeling as though you merely blinked before you were back at the lagoon. A part of you expected all four mermen to be in the waters still, but to your surprise it is only three of the four that greet you. The twins brighten up at your appearance, Jungkook lurching up and gasping.

“y/n!” He swims over to the edge of the lagoon, where it is still deep enough for him and his tail to fit. “You didn’t go?”

You’re touched that he seems to be so relieved that you stayed, but you can’t help but notice the one particular absence that is glaring you in the face. “Yeah, I… I don’t want to leave. I’m happy here, you know?”

All three males seem delighted at the words you offer them, sharing a look that you don’t quite catch. You can’t help but ask the question pressing against your lips, stomach dropping anxiously. “Where… where’s Hoseok?”

At that, they share another look, this one a little more knowing. For once Jungkook is quiet, biting his lip, but the twins are more than happy to expose their brother.

“He thought you were going to leave,” Jimin admits seriously, looking at you for once without an ounce of mirth. “He didn’t say it, but he was really upset and swam away after you left. Do you want to see him?”

The question he tacks on has an oddly hopeful note, and you can’t help but smile softly. “Yes, if that’s okay. Do you know where he went?”

“To his favourite place,” Taehyung informs you, smiling brightly. “The one above ground, not the one below.”

At his words, you feel nothing but complete and utter confusion. His favourite place? You thought it was the underwater cavern where he went to think… Before you can open your mouth and ask for some clarification, the twins return to their usual cheeky selves and take a hold of each of Jungkook’s arms; the youngest is understandably alarmed.

“Go find him, tell him why you decided to stay,” Jimin instructs you, a knowing look in his eyes that makes you feel as though he sees right through any pretences you might have. “He’ll be happier than you can believe.”

With that, the twins let out a hasty farewell, and Jungkook looks between them in worry. Just as he goes to protest, the other two grip him firmly and with a strong flourish of their tails, they dive back into the lagoon—dragging Jungkook with them. The splash of water that results is massive, mostly due to Jungkook’s flailing, and if you weren’t currently trying to figure out where on earth Hoseok is, you might have laughed.

In the silence that follows their departure, broken only by the soft, peaceful sounds of nature around you, you fall into your own thoughts. Hoseok has shown you many places around the island and even underwater, but you don’t think you’ve ever heard him explicitly say that they’re his favourite. To be honest, he is the type of guy where everything is his favourite. So, understandably, you’re a little stumped. Your insides are torn between a sense of urgency and a conflicting sense of ease. You’re in a bit of an emotional limbo, but you can’t really do anything about it until you find Hoseok.

Where do you even begin to search…

You try thinking about it logically; if it’s his favourite place, then it must be somewhere that has meaning to him? You blink. Even now, you’re stumped. He’s never confessed anything like that either, and as much of an open book as he is, beneath that he is incredibly hard to read.

Those damn twins… couldn’t they have just told you where he is?!

With a sigh, you decide to think as you go. You may as well begin to look, before daylight runs out and you have to run and grab a glowing rock that Hoseok gifted you one day a while ago. You’ve been using it to illuminate your cave, but it will help if you need to illuminate where you’re walking in the trees.

A few places come to mind as you walk, but none of them really spark as you think of them, and none of them turn up fruitful. He isn’t by the citrus tree, or the large rock-man you made in his honour. It gets darker bit by bit as you go along, still no closer to finding the strangely elusive merman and growing a little frantic. You try some of the places that mean a lot to you, wondering if they might be something you share in common. They all turn out unsuccessful, barren of the handsome merman you’re attempting to track down, and you have to fight to prevent yourself from getting too bummed. He’s here somewhere, you just have to pinpoint the right place.

It’s very almost near dark by the time you think you’ve exhausted every possible option, having searched almost the entire portion of the island by now. The sun has long since disappeared, and now it is rays of moonlight that begin to drip to the earth between gaps in the foliage, shifting as the breeze rustles the leaves above. You pause at that observation, something niggling in the back of your mind. The moonlight… oh.

With a renewed sense of energy and determination, you turn on your heel and begin in the direction of the beach on the opposite side of the island to where you’d been earlier. It isn’t as clear as the other side, littered with more rocks and pools, boulders that extend into the water creating little alcoves and pockets of privacy. That side of the island also tends to gather more pretty shells and bits and pieces. You return with quite an armful every time you venture there.

You think you know where he might have gone.

You can’t remember when exactly, but it hadn’t been too long ago that you’d spent the night with Hoseok beneath the moon, gazing up at the stars and revelling in their beauty, as you so often did. What made this particular evening stand out, however, was that at the end of the night, right before the merman left and returned to his home, you gave him a gift.

A blush heats your cheeks as you remember; it wasn’t anything special, just a dumb little necklace made of shells and some pretty sea glass that you found. It had taken you almost a week to pull together in a way that made it sturdy and presentable. It really wasn’t much, very crude compared to some of the jewellery you’d seen adorning his golden skin. But when you pulled it from behind your back and gave it to him, Hoseok had looked at it like it was an item that fell directly from the heavens and into his hold.

He’d stared at it a few moments, allowing it to run over his fingers like he was playing with water, shells and glass tinkling against each other, until he finally snapped out of it and gave you a look that was so open and full of elation that in combination with his marks and pretty features, it really almost blinded you. With the necklace carefully clutched in his hand, he’d then proceeded to launch himself at you and drag you into a hug that had your face steaming from how long it went on (not that you were complaining).

You still don’t know why the necklace seemed to be such a precious item to him, but the hunch the memory gave you seems to be right as the second you step onto the sand in the little alcove where you gave it to him, you see the telltale glow of his markings soaking in the moonlight and the glimmer of his oil slick tail as the end flicks lazily in the water.

He’s beached himself a little, laying on his back with his arms spread out and the tide lapping at his hips where skin blends into iridescent scales. His eyes are on the inky expanse of the sky, reflecting the sea of stars that gaze down upon the two of you. For a moment, you simply stand and observe him. At first glance he is as mesmerising as ever, but upon closer inspection his hair is a little wilder than usual, salt-crusted waves curling without order and shifting in the breeze. The sand from his shoulders down is a little damper than the rest above him, and you wonder if he’s been here, laying in the same position uncaringly while the tide slowly recedes. Your next look reveals his red-rimmed eyes and your ears pick up soft, almost indiscernible sniffles and you realise that yes, he’s been laying in the same spot probably the entire afternoon.

For a moment, you’re completely stumped as to how to approach him. From what you know, he’s upset either because you left or because you tried to leave, or because you want to leave. None of those are true, but either way he’s not really expecting to see you come down the shore and sit next to him—he’s a little jumpy, and you don’t want to frighten him half to death. In a bid to find something that will spark an idea, you let your gaze wonder around you. Fortuitously, you see a small shrub with tiny white flowers in bunches a little to your left and have something to go with. As quietly as possible, you pick a few and begin to descend silently down the sand, separating the tiny buds from their stems so that you have a handful of many tiny flowers.

The only sound that filters into your ears is that of the waves crashing softly against the rocks and sand, and the soft rustle of the trees in the breeze—you hope it’s the same for Hoseok. You feel a little nervous for some reason, but the familiar scent of salt and sea in the air helps to mollify those nerves. The sand is soft against your bare feet, embracing them like a lost friend and keeping your presence secret for the moment.

By the time you arrive almost a foot from the raven-haired merman, he has closed his eyes and is simply laying, basking in the moonlight. There are trails down his cheeks, but you can’t tell how fresh they are even with the helpful glow of his moon marks.

Silently as you can, you ease into a sitting position on the sand by his shoulders. The soft material of the clothes Hoseok’s brothers gave you grows a little damp as you sink down, the tide only recently having kissed this portion of sand. He still hasn’t noticed you, and you take a slow breath before holding up your two hands with the flowers cupped inside, and letting them fall over his face.

They’re so tiny that the most they do is tickle him, but evidently, he seems to be very ticklish; his face twists and contorts, brows and eyes twitching at the sensations. It isn’t long before his eyes flutter open, searching for the source of the sensation. They flit about in alarm, before they finally fall on you and the merman freezes. Two beats pass and then he’s lurching up, small clumps of wet sand sticking to him before falling off, along with all the flowers that you sprinkled over him—save for a few that cling to some of his curls. There are grains stuck to the hair at the back of his head, and his arms are covered completely on the sides—it makes for a look that seems a little wild, but still… he looks good. It isn’t fair.

His incredible good looks aside, he’s looking at you like he saw a ghost. You simply sit for a moment, making sure he isn’t about to topple over before you speak.

“Taehyung told me you might be here,” you say, a soft smile on your lips. “Or, well—he said ‘your favourite place’ above ground. It took me a while.”

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks before he can process your words, disbelief colouring his tone. He lifts one of his hands as though to touch you, but it hesitates midway between your bodies. “Didn’t the ship go already? You missed it?”

Reaching out for the hand that is still hanging mid-air, you take the opportunity to intertwine your fingers and bring your clasped hands close to your chest. Hoseok’s eyes shoot wide at the motion, appearing very much still bewildered by the current situation. His cheeks are flushed slightly behind his marks, and you’re not sure whether its from lying out of the water all afternoon or something else.

“Why? You want me to leave?” you joke, unable to help your laugh at the merman’s immediate aghast expression. Before he can belt out a protest, you soothe him, “I’m kidding. The ship is gone. I didn’t flag it down.”

Hoseok looks at you, perplexed, his eyes flicking over every one of your features as though searching for something that will inform him of the meaning behind your words.

“Wh—I mean, I know we have never really talked about it but… why? You… You are technically stranded here. Don’t you want to leave?”

Your eyes sweep his face as he speaks, picking up the saddened turn of his brows and crease of his eyes. You swear you catch his chin wobbling slightly, but can’t be sure. Something rises within you, pressing against your chest in effort to burst free. Now. You’re going to tell him now.

“Hoseok… I want to stay.” You reach out, tenderly brushing some of the sand from his cheek with your thumb. “I want to stay on this island, and I want to stay with you.”

He’s frozen, staring at you with wide eyes, and you continue, giving a voice to the simple wants and desires that reside deep within you.

“I’m happy here, and you… you make me happy, so, so happy.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Hobi, you mean more to me than some stupid, ancient grudge, than a world that I turned my back on years ago. You’re what I treasure most and I don’t… I don’t want to let that go.”

In the moments that follow your sudden, somewhat premeditated confession, there is silence. One beat, two beats. You scan his face for any indication of his response, and you swear his eyes begin to mist. You don’t get to analyse it though, because in the next second the merman makes a choked noise and lurches forward, arms wrapping around you as the weight of his body sends the two of you crashing back against the sand. Having fallen at an odd angle, the two of you proceed to roll down into the surf.

You don’t notice though, because Hoseok has his lips pressed firmly to your own and it’s like your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest.

Only when the two of you splash into the water, does he release you—and even then you’re still tight in his hold as he peppers soft, featherlight kisses across everywhere he can reach on your face. Your forehead, eyelids, nose, cheek—nowhere is safe. You can’t help but squeal at the ticklish sensations, making him erupt into a sudden, deep laugh that fills your bones with happiness.

He sits up, bringing you with him, and pulls back with his arms around your waist. He’s grinning so wide his eyes are almost disappearing, his moon marks glowing brighter than ever,

“I love you too, precious pearl,” he confesses, with such vulnerability and sincerity that it actually makes you embarrassed, heat washing almost violently over your face and neck.

You can’t help but sputter, squirming on his lap and ignoring the water you’re sitting in, “I n-never said that!”

Hoseok leans in and brushes the tip of his elfish nose against your own. “But you meant it.”

He has you there. Blushing madly, you let out a huff and he coos. “Don’t get cocky, Mr. Fish, or I’ll take it back.”

Another laugh tumbles from his throat, eyes gleaming with mirth and mischief. “You can’t take it back. You technically proposed to me here, you know.”

At that, you balk, running through the events of the past few minutes and trying to figure out whether he is messing with you or not. “I—I did not!”

“You did,” he hums, pressing surprise kisses to the apples of your cheeks that make you squeak. “Not just now, but that other time we were here. That’s why this is my favourite place.”

At your lost look, he decides to have mercy and let you in with an amused smirk. “For merpeople, when there is someone that they want to spend the rest of their lives with, they go out and gather precious items and fashion them into a piece of jewellery. They then give it to them under the light of the moon, as a proposal and a sign of undying love and commitment.”

The merman blushes now, smiling sheepishly. “I knew you had no idea, and that you didn’t really mean it that way but… it made me happy.”

Learning this, your face feels as though it is on fire, and you wouldn’t be surprised if there was steam coming from your cheeks. Even more embarrassing, are the words coming out of your mouth next. “Oh… Well, I mean… I didn’t know, but… Now that I do, I’d do it again.”

Your words make Hoseok’s breath hitch, and he stares at you intensely for a moment before he lets out a sharp noise and suddenly you’re being attacked with another shower of kisses and affection.

“I’m holding you to that!” He exclaims, rolling the two of you back against the sand as he continues his onslaught between words. “That’s a promise!”

You’re torn between laughing and squealing, instead using your hands to still him so you can press a kiss of your own to his lips. This halts him for only a moment before he’s wriggling giddily and letting out a happy yell once more, wrapping you into a big bear hug.

“And now you can never, ever, ever leave!” he says, before amending in a smaller tone, “Please don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” you tell him, grinning. “Never, ever, ever.”

And under the light of the bodies in the sky, your words entwine into a promise made to last, sealed with the kiss of the sea and the glow of the merman beneath you.

x     x     x     x     x     x

[four months later; full moon]

The crash of the waves and the soft rustle of the tree line behind you blend into a soothing white noise, lifting your heart high in euphoria. Salt brushes your tastebuds and nostrils, breeze playing with hair that you’ve taken the liberty of attempting to style a little, just for today. You’re standing waist-deep in water, clothing floating around you in a silky halo, vibrating with nerves and excitement, and Hoseok is before you, hands clasped in your own.

A beautiful vine you remember seeing grow along the sea floor in Hoseok’s kingdom beneath the waves is wrapped around both of your wrists, t3ravelling down his arm to climb your own. The flowers are soft against your skin, sweet-smelling and glowing slightly in the night. Hoseok sways your hands slightly, grinning in such a way you can feel every inch of his happiness, and you can’t help but smile back. Off to the side, deeper in the surf, are five of Hoseok’s brothers, identified by the way their markings light beneath the moon. The sixth, Namjoon, is beside you and Hoseok, resting in the middle. A small crab clings onto a choker around his neck, simply hanging in content.

Another crash of the waves, and Namjoon continues where he left off, speaking with a clear voice that seems to reach the heavens themselves. One of his hands is grasping where yours is entwined with Hoseok’s, and the skin there glows with warmth.

“And the moon, who has given her blessing for this union and happily bound your souls, has bestowed a gift upon the two children born beneath her rays. As she waxes, so shall her human child live beneath the sea with her companion. And as she wanes, so shall her merchild live on land with his companion.”

Hoseok is almost vibrating in place before you, hands clutching yours tightly. Namjoon smiles, exuding happiness for his brother.

“She has guided you across oceans and lands to be with each other, and now she allows you to remain so. Feel her love and magic wash over you and course through your veins. With her blessing, you may now meet, and seal this ceremony.”

Almost before Namjoon has even finished speaking, there is a slight burn along your arms and Hoseok is letting go of your hands to lurch towards you, holding you close as you both fall into the water once more. Your surprised, elated squeal is cut off as you are submerged, but he simply stops you with an eager kiss of your lips. Instantly, you melt against him, feeling your hair float and tickle your cheeks as you kiss him back, butterflies running amok inside you. As you rise back to the surface, now completely drenched, it’s to the sound of loud cheering and whooping from Hoseok’s family. Delighted and amused, you send them a bright grin that they happily return.

When you turn to him, he seems a little sheepish, somewhat embarrassed, but you quickly and successfully distract him with a quick kiss.

“Now you know for sure I’m not gonna leave, never, ever, ever,” you tease softly, enjoying the way he flushes instantly at the reference to his moment of weakness four months ago. “I love you, Hobi.”

“Love you too, precious pearl,” he returns, almost shyly, before he’s pressing his forehead against yours and his brothers are making teasing noises in the background.

Your heart leaps, soars, and it will never feel any more content as it does now. You’re in awe, reflecting for a moment where you’ve come from to be here now. You have many things to thank, you suppose, but most of all, you thank the moon. For it was her, and her magic, that brought you to Hoseok, and let you into his world.

It was the moon, and her magic, that brought you home.

masterlist | ko-fi

||: please let me know what you think and if you liked it, please consider supporting me & letting me know thru a lil heart <3 thank you for reading!

[clairecrive]

“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

Chapter 1 -“Alfie”

A/n: I’m so excited to finally share this with you!! This really came up to me as a way to pass the time but it slowly became an almost fic so I thought, why not, maybe someone will like it too. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts about it!

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​, @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @evelynshelby​, @fandom–0verdose​, @shadow-of-wonder ( let me know if you wanna be added)

Next chapters: Masterpost

The news was out, not it was official:  the whole world was on lockdown. Emma knew it was coming, seeing as her family in Italy had been updating her since the pandemic had been official but still, it still felt all too surreal for it to be true. Only that it was and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Until scientists won’t find a cure, the only thing they could do and were asked to, was to stay inside. To go out only in necessary. Currently, Emma wasn’t home. Well, thanks to her job she had been on the move for quite some time, so other than her family’s one she didn’t really have one. At the moment she was renting this lovely house with a sea view and private access to the beach in San Francisco, where her work had taken her. The house was big and she’d get often lonely so during the weekend she had this tradition of calling some friends over. Her schedule was pretty hectic leaving her very little time for social interactions. Emma wasn’t exactly a social butterfly but enjoyed the company of her friends so, in this way, it was a win-win for everyone. Alfie had called her at the beginning of last week to tell her that he was in the area for work and asked her to meet up. Seeing as her friends were busy this weekend, she invited him over. Of course, she had thought of a cute possibly romantic weekend but then pandemic happened and now it seemed that they were stuck together. To be fair, Emma knew that she could pack and go back home to Italy but maybe it was safest for everyone if she just stayed here. Work would be easier to deal with too if she stayed in San Francisco. 

“What do you mean we can’t leave the house?” Emma had given Alfie the news after hearing it on tv and he wasn’t taking it too well, to say the least.

“We’re in quarantine Alfie, I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” 

“That’s bullshit, they can’t do that.” Of course, he would say that, king of the world.

“Don’t be daft Alfred. The danger is real and almost every country in the world is on the lockdown.”

“Can’t believe this.”

“People are dying Alfie, I’m sure you can think at least at hundreds of different scenarios where you could get it worse.” Rolling her eyes, she turns around and heads over the bathroom to get her day started with her skincare routine. “Besides, the only one that should be complaining is me. Do you hear me bitching and moaning?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Have you met yourself?” She sassed looking at him over her shoulder,” I’m stuck with you for god knows how long, still I’m not complaining.” Surely, when she came over the other night, she wasn’t expecting that she’d be stuck with him. However, Emma understood that she was in a privileged position. Yes, she wasn’t with her family but she was grateful nonetheless to be surrounded by people she loved. She knew the cockney man can be a handful and that’s exactly why she called for help.  Alfie, still puzzled about this whole situation, follows her like a lost puppy. He didn’t like her tone, but then again, he knew he could be quite the pain in the ass so the prospect of spending the next weeks in close proximity with him wouldn’t be appealing to anyone.

“What are you doing?” The look on his face was priceless. His eyes studied the various bottles she had sprawled all over the sink like they were an Arabic papyrus or something.

“My skincare routine. Ever heard of it?” Her eyes laid on his form behind her through the mirror, while she put her tonic on a cotton pad before gently applying it on her face.

“Seems rather pointless. Don’t see why  you need to put all this stuff on your face.” Of course, Alfie was skeptical and ignored even the existence of moisturizer, she could swear it.

“You should definitely give it a try, your skin would thank you for it, rest assured.” She recommended but didn’t get an answer. When she looked again at Alfie, he was curiously watching every little movement she made. For someone who proclaimed to be so against skincare, he was certainly interested in it. Smirking at the thought, she moved a little to the side making enough space for him to join her. Prompting him to come closer with her hands, she was met with his confused gaze but did what she asked nonetheless.

“What kind of skin do you have?” She asked now turning towards him to study his face. He would probably none the wiser about the type of skin he had but she asked anyway.

“What kind of question is that?” As she thought. Ignoring his tone, she simply rolled her eyes again and opted for deducing the answer herself. Spotting the red patches on the edges of his face, she guessed that he had sensitive skin. He didn’t look like he had an oily prone to acne one but she couldn’t tell if he had dry skin either. Maybe he had just normal skin.

“Do you get oily during the day or do you struggle with dryness?” She tried again with a simpler question. I mean, he had to know these things, she thought.

“Well, uh, I don’t think I get oily as you said. Definitely noticed some dry patches though.” Alfie said after a little thought. Well, now we’re going somewhere.

“Okay then.” Considering what he told her, she looked into her beauty case to find the appropriate product for his skin.

“Try this.” She hands him a cleanser that worked for every type of skin and was extremely gentle, so it was perfect for his red patches.

“Why can’t I use that one?” He asked pointing to the tonic she was using when he first entered. She gave him a little smile, the one you give little kids when they ask an obvious question that they didn’t know due to their age. 

“Because that one,” she said taking it in her hands so that she could show him, “ is a tonic. That comes after. The first step is to wash your face with a cleanser in order to purify the skin and rid it from all the dirty stuff.” She then proceeds to explain. He didn’t look too convinced but went ahead and followed her instructions anyway. After he had washed his face, she hands him the tonic again.

“Now you can use this. Put a little dose of it on this cotton pad and then gently pat it all over your face.” Seeing as she had to do that step too, she took her pad and showed him how to apply it.

“What’s this for?” He asks while he swipes the pad over his forehead.

“No Alfie look, don’t swipe it. Pat it, like this.” She corrects him, taking his pad in her hands and doing it for him so he could see the right movement. “This is called a tonic and it closes our pores after the cleansing. And since this is a rose-based tonic, it also helps to soothe the skin and cure any irritations.” She softly explains, her eyes focused on the motion of her hand on his face. Seeing up close, his skin looked even more bruised and irritated. She wonders what was the cause and for how long he had had them.

“Swipe, pat. Whatever.” Alfie mumbles resembling very much a little kid but for some reason, it makes Emma smile.

“If they’re two different words it must mean that they mean different things, no?” In a very condescending tone, she finished what she was doing ending it with a pat that was more vigorous. She turned around to gather the next product they would need and thinking that she couldn’t see him, Alfie literally mouthed “gne gne” at her, making fun of her. Maybe he was even more childish than a child. Waiting for him to noticing how much a fool he had made of himself, Emma freezes him with a stern look when he looks at her through the mirror.

“Now, two years old child stuck in the body of a thirty years old, it’s time for under eyes. Although, maybe you don’t want it.” She mused turning around to face him, messing with him as well.

“Do not make me fucking beg for an eye cream, Emma.” Rolling his eyes Alfie spat.

“You know what? I’ve changed my mind. We should definitely do a face mask, god knows your skin needs it.” An idea popped into her mind and she went looking for a hydrating mask for the both of them. 

“A what?” Alfie called after her when she walked out of the bathroom.

“Oh please, don’t pretend you haven’t seen Ig posts with girls with colored stuff on their faces or a sheet mask. Before you can even think of denying it, you should know that I can see the posts you like.” She said completely disarming him so that he could only surrender at the fact and wait for her to gather what she was looking for. 

“Here it is. It’s super easy actually, you just have to open it and put it on your face and keep it for fifteen minutes-ish.” She explained after handing him the packaging of the mask she had chosen for him. The only she got for herself was not a sheet mask so she had to apply it. She was halfway through when she noticed something strange in the background.

“What-” Erupting in a  loud laugh she couldn’t finish the sentence. Putting on a sheet mask was a rather easy task. Or so she thought. But seeing the way Alfie had erroneously put on his, she was reconsidering her statement. Emma couldn’t really see his expression but by the sound he made, she figured he was offended that she was taking the piss at him but she really couldn’t help it.

“Alfie, dear god, what did you do?” Taking the mask in your hands, you pulled it off his face readjusting it to the rightful position. “Here, that’s how you put it on. Look, there are holes where your nose, mouth and eyes go.” She couldn’t help but smile condescendingly at him. He really was a child sometimes.

“And now what?” He asked when they both went back to the living room.

“And now we wait. In 14 minutes you can take it off.” she said looking at the time on her phone while setting a timer, “oh what a wonderful coincidence, they’re also going to be here in fifteen minutes.” She said probably reading a message.

“Who’s they?” Alfie inquired narrowing his eyes startled by this news piece of information.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ve invited some friends over.”

[moodysnowflake]

Let’s rant about - Fugou Keiji

This is the most disorganized post I could possibly write. Nice. Spoiler alert guys, if you’re not caught up to episode 5 of Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited.

I did warn you.

When I recognized the armored limo, I thought ‘It makes sort of sense, ‘cause since he’s not driving the Cadillac, and he’s traveling with the President, he’s automatically in a life-threatening situation as well.’ We can all argue that his car might not be armored, but come on… I bet my tonsil (they are extremely useful organs if you have still functioning ones)that the Cadillac has to; you just don’t stroll around in a vehicle equipped with military level stuff in it and don’t have it disaster-proofed. And speaking about military…we might finally have some clue, or it is better to say a clearer lead, on the Kambe family business: security and/or military related. He provided the president with freakin HMMWV - High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle, a.k.a. Humvee - vehicles and other special protection equipment. That might explain why there doesn’t seem to be a damn bottom in his wallet, nor limits his power can’t overcome. Well, until now, but I’m gonna rant about it later. It makes sense, ‘cause this area is way more lucrative than any other. Stark Industries and the Yard division of Wayne Enterprises showed us as much, right? I scrunched up my face when Daisuke said “I’m simply here as proxy for my grandmother.” I connected the dot ‘Oh, so that’s why he was looking so cold/pensive (laughing fit because my stupid brain made the connection between pensive and Purple Hyacinth [if you don’t know this webcomic, please check it out on Webtoon, it’s a good story]) with the news at the beginning of the episode. Granny Kambe was sick or something, so she might have persuaded him into going.’ I still don’t get why Haru didn’t know, but I’m sure Daisuke had his reasons… I also thought that Daisuke is not the only one available, right? What about best girl Suzue? Daisuke is not exactly a people person, but what do we know, maybe she was going to go and Daisuke got in the way to not have her have to deal with nasty issues.

What I was definitely not see coming was Daisuke’s “No. There will not be a day where I succeed as head of the family.”

My plot bunny had a seizure right then and there. Daisuke? Sir? I replayed it again and again, and I was struck by a new idea every time I did, and his cold-blooded tone, robotic aseptic expression didn’t help in the least. He’s impassive while he speaks, he’s emotionless. And that’s terrifying. It’s a horrible display, at least for me, because episode 4 showed us he cares, he’s capable of feeling emotions, and pretty strong ones too.

I need to focus on this because I think it’s important; everybody saw episode 4 as it was the most randomic, epic fujo-bait episode ever. Welp, sorry for disrupting the rose-tinted dream, but no. I mean, yes it was, but it wasn’t as well. I’ll try to elaborate, because I think that episode shouldn’t be discarded as just another episode. I think Fugou Keiji is very similar to Id:Invaded in this respect: nothing is thrown there by chance, nothing happens without a purpose, everything has a meaning. This is an one core show, with 11 episodes scheduled, which a pretty odd number, and if the story is meant to end in 11 episode (which I think it is), that means you can’t fuck around with filler episodes. [If you haven’t seen Id:Invaded, you should give it a chance. It’s rated R-17, so please proceed with caution. I mean it; it’s not just a very physically violent show. There are shades of ‘Dead Dove: Do Not Eat’ level shit in there.]

The progression might feel a bit fast to an old school, at least 2 core, 25+ episodes trained anime watcher like me, but as long as it’s organic, that’s totally fine. Episode 1 introduced our MC, said us ‘look, there’s this angry fluff boi, which is called Katou Haru, ad there’s this dripping ice-cold asshole boi called Kambe Daisuke: Shenanigans ensures.’ From episode 2, evolution started, as it should have. We needed to reach the end of the episode to see it, but we got it; when Haru roughs Daisuke up, we expected for him to have no reaction, and many may think that’s what happened, but I think that’s not the case. I think Daisuke was seriously ruminating about Haru’s overreaction, and his look was a deep thinking one. He’s not an impassive robot anymore. Episode 3 cemented it, showing us am astounding variety of emotions effectively coming out: he’s annoyed (glare shoot while Haru’s running him mouth, blabbering about being a good senpai), angry (Haru snitching him, then having to formally thank and ask for guidance), tired (sighing at Haru, stuck  dangling by the pole), salty (”Are you working hard, Inspector Katou?” [Can we blame him? Haru snitched him out, then the next day he had to hear from Kamei that he needed backup. I still think that he might have been waiting for him outside the station from the beginning, and just got confirmation from Kamei. Which made him, obviously, even saltier.], “This is precisely the moment I would like some coaching.”). Also, incredibly trusting and perceptive; he’s watching Haru like a hawk, giving him access to HEUSC (which he didn’t have to, but he thought he had to give him a chance), helping getting into the Shinkansen (he gave his mask to Haru, either because he knew the smoke used was not really harmful, or because he trained to hold his breath long enough to get himself out of its range), giving him his gun and - last but not least - getting himself between Haru and a gun. Granted, all of his suits have to be bulletproof - you cannot make me think otherwise -, but if you get shot, it still hurts as fuck, and you can get bruised, or even slightly crack a rib if the shot is close enough. So yeah, it wouldn’t have been pleasant. What’s the purpose of episode 4 then, except for fangirls to drool over it? Hands out, I’m not insulting the category, I’m gonna speak about it later, so put that on hold and don’t chew me for the time being. Like everybody perceived, episode 4 served other various purposes. Like the metaphors of dog: Daisuke is kind of a 27-years old puppy, because he can’t survive in the outside world without help. He can use rocket grapples, breach police communications, erase data from the internet, use a torch to melt a windshield, fire a rocket launched and Karma only knows what else, but he can’t do groceries to save his life, nor cut a potato without almost chopping his fingers off [insert Cloud’s pouting “I’m doing my best…” icon here]. He’s snarky, but soft (to Haru, the kids (ep3 and ep4 ones), and Suzue). He’s spoiled, but open-minded (he appreciate convenience store ramen, he values Haru’s cooking over pre-packed food). He’s cautious, but yields if he feels (reasonably) reassured (You think the kid is good? Fine by me, I’m gonna help. You think he’s not gonna shoot? Fair enough, I believe you. You need HEUSC to snoop up something to prove he’s okay? Just ask it. You think I don’t need a band-aid and lick the cut? Bit weird, but okay.). Like a dog, he can behead you with a bite, but if he trusts you, you can belly rub him to death. Episode 3 was Daisuke’s “I’ve got your back.” as well as episode 4 was Haru’s “I’ve got yours too.” This is what episode 4 is too: it’s Haru having Daisuke’s back. It’s Haru having patience and understanding, after Daisuke giving him his absolute trust and resources. Unlimited. They started sensing each other out from episode 1. With not really good results at the beginning, but it’s an understandable situation. Think from each other’s perspective: Haru’s a experienced police officer, who has Daisuke crashing into his life with very unorthodox methods and no chills, throwing money around without a second thought, pretentious and disrespectful. It’s almost physiological for him to try to deck him down at first glance. From Daisuke’s point of view, he might not know better, he’s socially awkward, civilian life interaction none existent. But most of all, we don’t know why he chose MCPD, nor how was he trained. Heck we have come clues, but not guarantees until we hear it from his mouth.

Yeah, I’m talking about you, Nakamura Chosuke, from that weird-ass look you gave each other in episode 2 coming out of the interrogation rooms, from the fact that in the OP you’re standing still while the rest of the team is moving forward and only Daisuke is going the opposite way towards you, from the fact that you might know way more than we may be comfortable with. You and Daisuke know each other, or at least know what’s up, and we’re gonna find out. Preferably soon, without having one of you dying. Please.

Daisuke needs to test the waters, to see who can be trusted and who can’t; it is very likely that he’s a pretty serious issue, something which he need someone to trust his life with. That, and also that his ‘training’ might have made him ‘somewhat selfish’, sometimes too cold, too unresponsive for his own good. But watch my words, he might be like this sometimes, because reasons, but he’s always on his toes, and he’s always listening. He listened to Haru while he ranted at him in episode 2, he listened to Haru while he asked him for help in episode 3, he listened to Haru while he herded him around in episode 4. Episode 4 served to provide Daisuke an alternative. It was not just about a tantrum. Story-wise, it gives Daisuke a space in which he feels safe, a zone his Kambe life can’t break into, as long as he doesn’t want it to reach him. Or at least, this is what he perceives.

Like someone said, when he’s saying that he’s not gonna inherit the Kambe Group, he’s talking with an indifferent, apathetic look. Mechanical, stolid, like when he talks with Kikuko. It’s the exact same face. Precisely. He doesn’t feel, he doesn’t react, if not prodded. Either because: 1. He really doesn’t want: he’s not a violent person, he doesn’t enjoy hurting others. He could just pay his way out of a murder, if he wanted to. He never acts to kill or harm. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want to be the heir of such a vicious empire. At least from what we know until now… 2. He’s been prevented or not supposed to: he might want to do it, but it might not be possible, because he might not be the designed one (OP’s women?), or be who we think he is. Maybe he really is ‘Shiro’s brother’, a replacement for someone else.

In both cases, it makes sense that he’s not granted access to weaponry/military information. It would also make sense to keep them from him in order to kill him. This leads into episode 5. He might have been trapped in Kikuko’s place, and grandma Kambe might not have anything to do with it, but at this moment everything could be possible. That being said, HEUSC confirmed Daisuke - and revealed us - that he’s disposable, a spare paw that can be disposed of at any given time, without concern nor regrets; he very well might have known this all along. He looks (really) slightly troubled to have to prod HEUSC for information about the bomb, because the AI butler is actually not interacting that much. And…Daisuke is like…going to die in the next 4 minutes? And Suzue is not coming? And that SHOULD be a problem, right? Daisuke dying SHOULD be in the ‘NO GOOD’ list in HEUSC programming. HEUSC SHOULD be trying its hardest to help him. Right? Daisuke is of course maintaining his collected cool, but surely the other two doofuses yapping around aren’t helping him. Put it with HEUSC not being helpful, it’s understandable for him to snap at it, asking for blueprints and directions. Because he was expecting them from the very beginning… When HEUSC answers come, he’s not shocked. We saw him alarmed, that’s not how his scared face looks like. He just seems disappointed, a hopeless realization, borderline frustrated, like he’s thinking “Is it? This is really the truth, they’re letting me die here”. Then he morphs into some sort of cold resolution, like “Bitch no, I’m not gonna kick the bucket without trying.” When I heard we were dealing with VX gas I said ‘Welp, someone really wants to be sure you dead, Mr. President.’

As some of you might be wondering, what is Daisuke doing? Why is he flooding the bathroom? Why is he drowning his jacket? The bomb is a gas one, and VX, also known as sarin gas, is one the deadliest chemical ever created. Basically what it does is shutting down your neurotransmissions, which means no impulse flowing, which stops every brain function and muscle in your body. Heart and diaphramm included, so no blood circulating and no oxigen.Not good. 10mg can kill a man. So, what they said in the episode is not fantasy, guys. That’s really bad juju. If it gets onto your skin (but for the love of Karma, I hope you’ll never have to experience it), you have to get it off as fast as you can washing and with a binding powder. In the meantime, you have two(three actually) guys to keep working: heart and lungs. As long as they run, there’s hope. Therefore, inject atropin every 10-15 minutes until resolution (to keep your heart galloping as fast as it can), pralidoxime (to actively compete with the substrate the gas attacks and help your diaphram and lungs not to stop) and diazepam (for the rest of your muscles not to tear themselves apart because of the other two compounds trying to save your life but not doing a really great job at keeping everything else in check). If you inhale that shit without atropin within arm’s reach, you have less than 2/3 minutes.

That’s why Daisuke unceremoniously tackles Haru out of the way.

So, why the jacket? Simply enough, soaking it, he creates a sort of barrier, or to be more specific, a medium (water) in which the gas is going to be trapped into before being released into the air. In the first seconds,the molecules produced by the canisters will be dissolved into the water, effectively trapping the gas withing the fabric of the jacket, as long as the water saturates. After that, if the gas continues to go, there would be a point were there’s gonna be too much of it in the water, and some of it will start to escape into the air. It takes time, depending on the pressure applied and the amount of water that the fabric can hold. That’s why Daisuke is keeping the jacket under the sink until the very last moment; the more water clinging, the better chances to survive. Even if, like the guard said, it’s not gonna work for long. I’m still not really sure why he’s going for the punch tho. He loosens the bow and the shirt to likely be able to pull it over his face just in case, since he is the one IN FRONT of the fucking bomb. The only option I can think of is that he’s trying to break the pump (and possibly bend a tube); VX is liquid at room temperature, so as long as you don’t inflate the canister and vaporize it into the air, you’re not in immediate danger. He’s hoping so hard for this to work, because he doesn’t want to die, as opposed of what he might have been thinking up until now. Because now, contrarily to what he said us in the very first line of episode 1, the boredom is gone. Now he has something to fight for (a truth he’s looking for) and someone to care of.

Yes, he might have not-so-gently wacked Haru away, but he was also pretty sure not be able to see the Sun again. He lost his composure and almost yelled at Haru for help. We can see that Haru doesn’t argue further, he immediately gets that something’s dangerous is going on, because if it makes Daisuke worry, that’s definitely not good. How can we be sure it’s gonna work? As they were being lead into the room, the guard explained that that was a NBC proof room: Nuclear Biological Chemical proof room. Which means it can withstand a nuclear blast, radiations, biological agents (viruses, bacteria, molds, other nasty living beings, organically poisonous compounds) and chemical agents (inorganic gases, hazardous solutions like strong acids or bases, explosives, corrosives etc…) because it’s airtight and has its own air and water independent reservoirs and systems. NOTHING can get in. Which also means that NOTHING can get out. Therefore, even if the gas is released, it’s contained.

For all the previously said things, that’s the reason Daisuke looks sad, discouraged and tired when he’s standing outside the embassy, with his hands in his pocket, his shoulder almost sagging down, the circle under his eyes darker than they have ever been. Because yes, you might not have noticed it but he always had those, except from ONE time, specifically one morning. I’ll let you guess which one… Then he snaps out of it hearing Suzue’s voice, probably not to worry her. Yes, I think that Suzue might be a watchdog, to make sure Daisuke fulfill his role and gets him out of trouble when he can’t, help him when he needs, but I think that as soon as he will be marked as not useful anymore, she might meet the same fate. She grew attached, she cares. Best girl might not even know it, and if she knows, she’s definitely doing her best to help him as much as she can. We all love you so much Suzue. Please don’t die. Please please please.

Episode 5 is the catalyst. Now Daisuke can’t trust anything anymore. He might not have done it in the first place, but now everything got shattered. If HEUSC has not authorized him, it means the AI butler is also monitoring the access. Which means Daisuke is gonna be under surveillance (or at least, stricter than it already was).

If episode 4 didn’t happen, Daisuke will be dead, or almost drowning in desperation, because he would have no one to turn to, no safe place to go to. We know this is not the case. We know Haru can help. Daisuke might not be a fan of this, and it might take a bit for him to put himself back together and explain, but we know it’s gonna happen. We know Haru is gonna listen, and he’s very much gonna want to help him. Now Daisuke knows it too, because he experienced it. We also know that Daisuke listens to Haur’s words, so I’m sure he remembers even Haru’s druk rambling about being a hero and a civil servant, and he’s gonna pull that out at some point. He might get something mixed up, since he was a bit fazed, but not enough not to flinch at Haru’s questioning… even if he wormed into the bathtub to sleep XD Best of all, he’s not even fazed by it. He just open his eyes and wakes up. Also, he sits by the table SLOUCHING. Kambe Daisuke. Slouching. In the morning. I love him so much. Haru taking care of him all the freaking way, feeding him and teaching him the ways of the peasant’s world. I love him just as much. Daisuke listens and processes; when Haru says him that, even if there’s almost no chance to find Shiro, he says that he’s gonna try regardless. Daisuke responds with “I see.”. Which means ‘You’ll keep trying, so I should do that as well.’ This is Japan guys. Read the air. There’s as much stuff unsaid that said.

A question is Kikuko then: is she best grandma or are we dealing with another Aizen situation (I made you strong so I could have a decent challenge)?

Nakamura Chosuke, Sir, you need to start singing soon…

Now, I have a very strong fear: in the OP, there’s the same scene repeating itself: at the beginning with Haru, Daisuke and Shizue in a room, then Haru is not there anymore. I’m still recovering from Banana Fish, and I watched it while it was airing…

Last thing, before I forget. About fangirls. You might have guessed, by the amount of word vomit I garbled over, that I am one as well. Everybody can react to the story as they want. I squeaked like a hamster too when I saw Daisuke wearing the ‘boyfriend outfit’, when he winced when he cut himself and licked his cut, when he waited for Haru to start eating before doing it himself, when he praised him for the cooking, when he understood why he replaced Shiro, when he lent him the money to return home, when he smiled to Hattori and Suzue, and when he used Haru’s natto recipes. I’m here for the ride as much as you are. I’m here for the fluff we’re obviously not gonna get. I’m here for a whipped Daisuke, wrapped around Haru’s finger, screaming in pain because of the loss, pleading to save the detective and take him instead. I’m here for the fall from grace, I’m here for him realizing he’s been living a beautiful nightmare, that justice is more than meets the eyes, that there’s so much more that he can be. I’m here for him realizing all of this with Haru being taken away, triggerim him into madness.

The wind exists even if you can’t see it.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 56

~*~Emma~*~

Sebastian and I talked and laughed until early morning. By the time I was finished packing it almost wasn't worth going to sleep. There was no way in hell I was going to hang up before he was ready. Cathartic or not, tears are tears. And with his history of being emotionally unavailable, calling me with puffy red eyes is a big fucking deal.

Throwing my phone across the room when the alarm went off seemed like a good idea. I fought off the urge. Half an hour and a cup of coffee later I was on my way to the airport. Flying out of White Plains was a shorter drive with a longer flight. Wound up being about the same as the long drive with a shorter flight from LaGuardia. I loved flying much more than driving. Plus, TSA at White Plains is cake. Past security I got another cup of coffee and settled in until boarding. I had a lovely breakfast on my layover in North Carolina. I do love a good chicken biscuit. In Atlanta I took a picture of the “Welcome” sign and posted it with the caption, "Back where I was born." I hadn't called Atlanta home in many years. I said things like, “It's good to be back", "I missed being here.", and "I'm happy to see you guys." New York was home. Seattle was home. I rarely called Alpharetta home except as a throwaway word to avoid having to explain.

Almost immediately I got a text.

Sebastian ~ Excited for family pix

Emma ~ And live on FaceTime?

Sebastian ~ I’m not afraid of your father. I hear he's a cupcake compared to your dad. Think I can tell you and Amy apart?

Emma ~ We'll see….

 We'd talked about him meeting them. I hadn't thought about how strange it’s been for him to have me all the Vedders, even texting with Ed, but not met my parents and sister. It's way more complicated with the bio family.

I had no idea who was picking me up. I exited security and immediately saw my twin and our mini-me. Amy pointed to me and Katie squealed. Amy let go of her hand and my little niece came running. I scooped her up with the reward of having my face covered in kisses. Best welcome ever. Katie wrapped her arms tight around my neck, not letting go even when we got to her mom. I was shocked by Amy's appearance. I held Katie with one arm and hugged her, "We haven't looked so identical since we were thirteen." I combed my fingers through her shoulder-length hair that was now nearly the same color as mine.

Amy put her head back and shook out her hair, "Took three visits to get the red out and tone down the brassiness."

I smiled, "If I say you look gorgeous is that vain?"

"Definitely, but also true." She hooked her arm in mine and we headed to baggage claim. "The parental units want us to drop by the hospital before heading home. They took off Monday and Tuesday. They have a full schedule for you."

I rolled my eyes, "You can fill me in as we drive. Anything we talk about I'll just have to repeat when we get to them. Right now, I want to hear from my munchkin baby girl." I tickled Katie, getting her laughing and successfully avoiding questions. I'd figure out when to tell them about Sebastian when I heard what was planned. My tentative plan was for tonight at dinner.

Katie told me all about her preschool and her toys while we waited for my suitcase and halfway to the hospital. She only stopped when her favorite song came through the speakers. After a rousing rendition of "There's a Hole in the Bottom of the Sea" I turned my attention to Amy. "What's the plan?"

"Today we're on our own until dinner. They said we'll decide on food later. A bunch of people from high school are going out on the lake tomorrow. I thought that would be fun. Mom said they'd keep Katie."

A lot of our old friends still lived in town. I hadn't seen anyone for a couple of years. "Sounds fun."

"Sunday family is coming over. Mom wants to tell you the rest. I promised."

I laughed, "Shopping and a spa day."

"I didn't tell you."

Fifteen minutes later we were swinging Katie between us across the parking lot. Mom and dad were heads of their departments. Neuro for dad and OB/GYN for mom. Our directions were always the same upon our arrival. Sign in and proceed to the fourth-floor doctor's cafe. Security would have paged them and they'd meet us there. I got coffee for us and ice cream for Katie.

Mom arrived first. She was the blond hair, blue-eyed version of me. Dad had dark hair and blue eyes. Amy and I were a great combination of them. Mom had us young and was not quite fifty. They always said we were planned, but who the hell plans kids right after graduating from college. Mom deferred her first year of med school. We had a wonderful nanny.

After a long hug, mom held my hands and stood back to look at me. "You look beautiful as always. Maybe a little tired."

Such a mom thing to say. "I was up late and slept on the plane."

She nodded and hugged me again, "A day by the pool will be good for you."

"Always. I hear family is coming Sunday?"

"A cookout." She looked at Amy then back to me. "I suppose your sister told you about Monday?"

"No." I slowly smirked, "I guessed, but she neither confirmed nor denied."

"Your father's going to give Wendy the day off and spend the day with Katie while we do a bit of shopping then a trip to the spa." She fingered my hair. "Maybe cut some of this."

I pushed her hand away playfully, "Nope."

I felt hands on my shoulders before hearing my dad’s voice, "I can not imagine what you'd look like with shorter hair."

I looked up and behind me with an incredulous look on my face. I pointed across the table at my twin. The one with shorter hair, "Possibly exactly like her?"

"No, you two look nothing alike." Worst dad joke ever. He took me away from mom and hugged me. "How is my youngest daughter?"

"Good. Waking up."

Dad sat on the opposite side of me from mom. "I've never understood how you fall asleep so fast on a plane."

"I like to float."

I turned my attention to mom, "Are we still on for Tuesday?" Mom did exams at a local woman’s shelter. The head counselor, Stacy, had worked at the rehab facility I’d been hidden away in. Going to visit her and the women was always the highlight of any trip back.

"Stacy is excited to see you."

"And me her."

She put her hand over mine," Not a problem to move my day."

"Thank you."

A man who looked to be a few years older than me approached our table. From the ID badge on his white coat, I knew his name was. Dr. Burns and he was a Neuro Fellow.

"Dr. Marcum, I didn't know you had two beautiful daughters and granddaughter."

"I’m overrun with beautiful women. I'm very lucky."

"Of course," he looked at my mom, “Dr. Marcum as well."

I looked at Amy to see her cover her mouth with her hand. Eligible doctor as bait was new.

Dad introduced us, "Emma is down from New York for a long weekend. Always hoping we can persuade her to move back home."

I looked at the bait, "I hope he's as clear with what he wants from you."

Bait laughed, "I'm lucky to have the opportunity to train with your father."

I was feeling like a prize to be won. Thankfully, there was someone else who thought I was a prize in a less icky way. I didn't respond to bait, preferring to take a drink of my coffee.

"I need to check post-ops. Nice to meet you, Emma. I'll see you upstairs, Dr. Marcum." He nodded to my mom and was off.

Amy burst out laughing, "Oh dad, that was horrible."

"What?" He shrugged, "Young, single, wants to stay here in Alpharetta. We could invite him to dinner. I know his schedule."

I groaned. I guess now was the time. "I appreciate your attempt to lure me back, but I don’t think my boyfriend would like me going on a date with someone who isn't him."

Amy perked up, "Boyfriend?"

"There's a picture of us on Instagram. I’ve been waiting for you to comment.”

"No!" She whipped out her phone. "This picture of the volleyball tournament is the only... oh wait... there is a man wrapped around you. I didn't pay attention."

"Let us see," my mom took the phone. "This is too small. Plus, he's hidden behind you in a hat. We can barely see him."

"He must be ugly." Amy stole a bite of Katie's ice cream.

"He is not ugly."

"Deformed in some way. A huge hairy mole in the center of his forehead like a third eye."

I laughed at her, "Are we thirteen again?"

"Thirteen was fun."

My parents were enjoying our banter, I was too. Mom looked at me, "Do you have a better picture?"

"I do." I pulled up the one from the festival with the teddy bear. "This was a couple of weeks ago. I won the bear."

I handed my phone to mom. Her eyebrows raised. "Not deformed. Or Ugly. Not even close. He looks familiar."

Amy took my phone and in under two seconds looked at me with her mouth hanging open, "Carter Baizen?"

"I didn't know you watched Gossip Girl?" I was in Seattle before it premiered.

"Everyone at school did. I only pretended I didn’t."

Dad took my phone, instantly smiling, "You look like you're having fun."

I laughed, "It was a fun day."

Mom looked at me then Amy, "Who is Carter?"

"He was a character in Gossip Girl. Hot, but an ass. The actor who played him went on to in the Marvel Movies as the Winter Soldier."

Dad scrunched up his face, "The brain damaged assassin who killed Tony’s mother?"

"Yes." I was not about to argue brain washed versus brain damaged with a neurosurgeon. "His name is Sebastian Stan."

I took my phone back and swiped to a picture of us at the volleyball tournament. Dad raised his eyebrows with a nod. Mom said, "He's very handsome."

Amy smirked, "If I swipe will I find nudes."

"Sorry, no."

"No, I won’t find them or no you don’t have any."

"Don't have."

"Damn."

I don't know what I expected from Amy, but this wasn't it. I hadn't told them about Jimmy. I just brought him home. He was the last real boyfriend. Amy’s current reaction was much more typical of early high school. My parents looked cautious.

Amy cut her eyes up to me, "Kissing in the dark restaurant. Go you, little sister."

Dad turned his attention to me, "Is this serious?"

I could feel the tension leech out of me and my face soften with a smile, "Yes, it is."

"When do we get to meet him?"

I shrugged, "We can FaceTime him after dinner. He's getting ready for a role and is home."

"I'm looking forward to meeting him." Mom put her hand on my arm. "What's he like?"

"He's very sweet. Awkward at times and trips over himself. We laugh all the time and have these great conversations about books, movies, and music. He's very good to me." I didn't want to talk non-stop about him. I wanted them to know of him and over the weekend they'd learn about him. About us. "I'm sure you'll get sick of hearing about him. What are we doing for dinner tonight?"

Katie yelled, "Pizza!"

"I love pizza." There was an amazing pizza place near the house. We’d been going there since we were Katie’s age.

Amy agreed with me, "Easy and we don't have to get out of the pool."

I looked at my arm, "I desperately need a tan."

Dad stood up, "I'm going to get back to work so I can get out of here to enjoy my girls."

"Tell Dr. Friendly the date's off."

Dad glared at Amy. I didn't try to hide my smile. Mom stood while shaking her head. I got up and hugged them. I stayed still while they walked away then looked at Amy, "Let's get out of here. Can I drive?" I was feeling a little out of control and needed to be in charge of driving.

Amy threw me the keys, "As long as you can talk and drive."

Any guesses what the topic of conversation was? The drive home wasn’t long. Walking into the house I felt much more at ease. I think I was more nervous than I was aware of. Sebastian's important.

Amy handed Katie off to the nanny, Wendy. That felt familiar. We'd grown up in this house. This scene had happened innumerable times when we walked into the house. I waved when Katie turned on her way downstairs to her playroom. I followed Amy up the stairs to my room. She stopped at my door, "Are you going to unpack? And call Sebastian?"

"No." I shook my head, "I'll do both later. Can you send me the picture of me with Katie at the airport?"

"Absolutely. We'll be thirty soon. Bio-clock is ticking."

I was aghast, "Amelia! Our mother is an Ob/Gyn. You know that's not true." We laughed.

"Ok, so he can see how good you look with a kid."

I sighed dramatically, "Everything is not about Sebastian. Plain old Instagram. Me and my niece." I’m not playing those games with him. "The picture I'm going to have you take of me in my bikini... that's all about him."

That perked her up, "We'll get Wendy to take a twin picture."

I rolled my eyes, "He'll enjoy that too."

Five minutes later I was jogging down the stairs and heading out the French doors. The water was sparkling with the sunlight. It was hot and sticky outside making floating perfect. I threw a couple of towels on the loungers and threw two floats into the pool. Amy was coming out the door as I grabbed my phone off the table. I unlocked before handing it to her.

Amy followed me around the pool, "Remember when we'd pretend we were models and take pictures of our fashion shows?"

"I do. Our phones would be full of them. I’ll need to learn more editing skills when the wrinkles show up."

Amy rubbed at the corners of her eyes, "Crows feet already."

"I have a great eye cream." She took some of me then we got Wendy to take a couple of us, ending with us floating in the pool holding hands. I hopped onto the pool edge and took my phone back. I waited for Wendy to go inside, "Ok, jump out and take one more of me on the float.” Amy took my phone and I took off my bikini, lying face down on the float.

"I cannot believe I'm partaking in this."

"Oh please, who better. It's my naked ass and yours looks identical."

"My ass doesn't look like that anymore. Pregnancy stretched that out too."

I looked at my twin in her black one-piece with cut out sides. She always had the thinner body I wanted. After Katie, she'd not lost the last bit of baby weight from her stomach and her butt. "You look great, Amy."

She put her hands over her breasts, "These have stayed a little bigger too."

"I think I’m insulted."

Taking the picture Amy asked, "Are you going to turn over?"

"Absolutely not."

"Seriously? He has seen it, right?"

"Yes." I slid into the water and started putting my suit back on. Anything that naked he or I was taking.

Amy was back on her float before I was on mine, "I've sent nudes. Not just my butt."

"To whom, dear sister?"

"It's been years ago now. He lives in Marietta. I met him at a playground with Katie. Single parents’ version of a bar. Only he was pretending to be single."

I cringed, "Ouch, I'm sorry. How did you find out?"

"When his wife called me from his phone. We'd been seeing each other for a couple of months I thought I was falling in love with him, but I was just a side piece. He wanted to keep it going even after." She shuddered, "Not mistress material."

I made a decision to trust her with something. It had been a long time, "I never told you why Jimmy and I broke up. He'd been cheating with another lawyer in his firm for months. As the one who was cheated on, I thank you for refusing to go on with it once you knew."

"Did you know the other woman?"

"Yep, even considered her a friend."

"I'm always paranoid now that there's a hidden wife. After Jimmy do you worry Sebastian will cheat?"

I didn't need to think, but I took a moment anyway. "I'm not worried about him cheating. I don't think he would. If he does... I've survived it before."

We shared a look I hadn't anticipated. We’d both survived things. I reached for her hand. "I love you, Amelia."

"Love you too, Emiliana."

"What about now? Seeing anyone."

"Maybe sorta. Back after Christmas a bunch of us from high school got together. Max was there. He's divorced with a daughter in first grade. He has custody and wanted to wait until summer to move back so his parents can help with her. We texted and talked some. He moved back a couple of weeks ago. We've gone out to dinner. It was good. He'll be there tomorrow."

I remembered Max very well. He was a baseball player who looked very good in those pants. He was a year ahead of us and I had no idea what he'd done after high school. I didn't keep up with anyone except the occasional text or Instagram from a couple of girls on the volleyball team. Anything I knew was tidbits from Amy. She'd tried to get me to go to her five and ten year reunion, but I didn't graduate from here. I went to my reunions back in Seattle. Kept up with more friends from there and saw them when I was home. "Didn't you have a crush on Max?"

I recognized the smile on Amy's face. She looked just like me when I'd been caught. "He won't let me forget."

We laid in the pool laughing and talking. It had been a long time since I'd felt this close to her. I can't be sure if that's her, me, or a little of both. Doesn't matter because it was just good and before we knew it mom and dad were home. They brought Katie with them out to the pool deck. "We sent Wendy home. Just family this weekend."

Amy sat up, "Remember we're going out on the lake tomorrow."

Mom smiled, "I remember. Are you two hungry?"

The second she mentioned food my stomach growled. I put my hand over, "Very."

A discussion about pizza toppings ensued. At the end I got out of the pool, "I'm going shower before the food gets here."

Amy followed, "Me too."