#Customs duty is going to have a field trip with me

[hearkenfey]

Hello!

If you can, please consider follow me here too! Instagram Bluesky Cara

[skijumpingf1]

The End (D.Prevc X D.Tande)

This was my way of coping with Daniels retirement. So this oneshot is about the whole situation around the retirement (Domiel´s version). I was on a field trip from uni these past weeks so had to write this on my phone, and it is probably not as good because I hate to write on my phone. But I had like an urge to do this. So enjoy! This is set in my interconnected oneshot series (last part is here) and it is from Domens perspective just to let you know.

Wordcount: 3984

---------------------------------------------------

I am a bit nervous as I stand in the arrival hall at the airport in Ljubljana. Daniel was just training over in Norway and seeing his family. Judging by his mood over the phone at least one of those didn’t go so well. He seemed a bit stressed, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Maybe he hasn’t figured it out yet. I hope it has nothing to do with the fact that he officially moved to Slovenia a few months ago. He seemed happy with it but maybe he got homesick.

After planica it was pretty clear that Daniel would move and not me. Still, I gave it a bit of thought and he spoke to his family. His mom was hesitant, but she loves us together (and me too) and she knew that we were ready for the next step. Our national teams were pretty open about it too. So, we went apartment hunting in the area of the airport. The commute from our home to the airport shouldn’t be high when he would fly that much. To be honest, the first few weeks were a bit like heaven and hell at the same time. Heaven in the way that we could finally spent as much time together as we want. Hell because we went public at the same time and we may have underestimated the attention we would get. Especially here.

We were recognized almost every time we went outside. That lead to us not going anywhere which wasn’t good for Daniels acclimatization here in Slovenia. Eventually the attention got less and less, and we could move on.

Now that Daniel lives with me, it is my regular duty to collect him at the airport. I still love seeing him again. But today I am not just thrilled that my boyfriend is back.

His flight has landed about fifteen minutes ago and customs and stuff is always quick here so he should be out any minute. The door between the secluded area and the world outside opens and a few people in suits step out. I peak behind them. Daniel is coming out next. Automatically I form a smile at him. I spot him first and I get a moment of just looking at him when he doesn’t feel seen. He looks worried. Or stressed. Maybe unsure even. I swallow hard. So, it wasn’t my imagination that something was up. Then he notices me and his face lights up. His steps are getting faster and then he is back with me. I open my arms and pull him into a tight hug. “I missed you so much.”, I greet him.

“I have been gone for just six days.” “Yes, and? I still missed you.” The apartment was painful quiet without him. I even went to my parent’s house for a night. Officially to hang out with my sisters but I was there because I couldn’t stand the emptiness.

“I missed you too.” He presses a small kiss to my lips and takes my hand. I grab his suitcase but not without him complaining that he could do it himself. On the drive back home, he updates me on his family who are planning on visiting in a few months. This makes me think that something on the ski jumping side is up. Which is kinda scary. His from isn’t the best right now but he never acted this down. Something must have happened. Did he fall again and not told me? Or the team? After last season the whole dynamic changed. It wouldn’t surprise me if there would be still tensions inside team Norway after that.

“What’s up?”, I ask when I put a glass of wine in front of his face. We reheated the Lasagne that I made this morning for us (Yes, I actually can do a proper lasagne.) Now he is already sitting down waiting for me to do the same. “Nothing is up. Should be something up?” I take a sip from my glass and sit down. “I don’t know. Tell me.” He frowns a bit. His beautiful face is making a grimace. “I hope it is nothing major, so I didn’t want to tell you. You know the rule. I don’t know if I am really serious yet.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Oh god. He is thinking about retirement. That’s out rule. No talk about retiring if you are not serious.

I know him. The way he acts, the way he talked. He really thinks about it. “But you are serious considering it, aren’t you?” “I mean, it crossed my mind a few times. Especially this past week.” He doesn’t look at me. Daniel studies the tablecloth. I reach over the table and take his hand. “It is okay, Daniel. If you are considering it, talk it through with me.”  He finally looks up and I can spot a few tears in his eyes. I squeeze his hand tighter. “I know how hard Peros retirement was for you. I don’t want to burden you with another potential hard hit.” “You know the worst part was that he didn’t spoke to me, right? So, talk to me. Why are you considering it?” I can’t believe we are actually having this conversation now. In a few years for sure but it is so soon. Obviously, I would respect his decision either way, but I would miss him greatly in world cup.

“After Planica I hoped that every time, I would jump the fear would be getting less overwhelming and at the beginning it was like that. I don’t know what changed but now it feels like the opposite. Every time I am at the gate the fear is getting stronger and stronger again. Maybe it has to do with my bad form and that I am not trusting myself a hundred percent. Maybe it is me getting older.” Gosh sometimes I hate him. Why doesn’t he tell me stuff like this? It must be overwhelming to fear the thing he loves. Conflicting and hurtful. I know how much he loves it. I have seen it first hand. It is a passion we share. I couldn’t even imagine how hard it is to start losing it.

Daniel takes a sip from his wine. The Lasagne is long forgotten. “Do you think it could change again when you get into shape?” He raises his shoulders and sighs. “That’s what I am trying to find out.” I run my hand through my hair. That is a lot to be honest. “Ok.  If you want to talk it through, let me know. And I mean it. If you can’t sleep because of it wake me up.” He raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on my cheek. “I will try but I know that topic is hard for you too.” “Obviously I want you to continue with ski jumping. It means that we can spent so much more time together. Especially since it would be the first season since we are out. But if you just torture yourself with it, let it be. I can understand it. Ultimately ski jumping should bring you more joy than fear.”

Ziga stares worriedly at me when lift my weights. There is really no reason for it. I am doing everything like I do usually. Same weight, same posture. “What?”, I ask my teammate as soon as I set the weights down. “You just look emotional. That is rare.” “Very rare.”, adds Lovro who just finished his rotation on the weights too. I sigh and let myself sit down at the bench. “A lot on my mind recently.”, is my vague answer to the unasked question. “Care to elaborate?” I actually would but it is not my thing to share. So, I couldn’t. Also, it wasn’t like Daniel made up his mind in the last two days. Even though I think I know in which direction he will decide. Subconsciously he knows he can’t continue. But he needs to figure it out himself.

“Nope. I don’t want to elaborate.” “Ah, it is Daniel. Do you want to propose? I mean I think you guys are endgame, but you just moved in together. Maybe wait at least half a year.”, Timi chimes in. My eyes widen. Proposing and marriage can wait a few more years. Until we are comfortable living together. “No, I am not proposing. It just complicated stuff. Stuff that I can’t really talk about now.”  My teammates look not sacrificed but that is not my problem. “Don’t you think Daniel would be okay with you talking about it with your friends? I mean he knows how teams work. He probably talks about you with his teammates as well.” Normally I would agree but this is a sensitive topic. Daniel isn’t sure yet. And I don’t want him to get pressure from the guys since he trains with us quite often. “Maybe I just don’t want to talk about it with you guys.” I wink at them and stand back up. Lovro rolls his eyes. “Idiot.”

When I come home a few hours later. Another car is parked in front of the house. A car that I am pretty familiar with. What is Peter doing here? Did I forget that we were supposed to babysat today? Normally Peter would remind me twice before he brings his kids to our home. Slowly I enter the airy apartment that always reminds me of Daniels flat in Oslo. “I know it is a hard decision, but I don’t think it is a decision anymore.”, I hear my brother speaking. Oh. Seems like Danny invited my brother to talk about his potential retirement. Judging by Peros last sentence he also thinks that Daniel already made up his mind.

“I am home.”, I call out loudly to make my presence know. It was only fair, and I don’t want to spy on boyfriend. I take off my jacket while I hear rumbling in the living room. Seconds later Daniel is standing in the small hallway. A half smile on his lips. He is wearing jeans. Probably because Peter is over. Normally he prefers sweats at home. Or just boxers, my favourite choice. He closes the distance between us and puts an arm around my torso to pull me in. “Hei.”, he whispers. We are so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. I lean in and kiss him softly. As soon as I wrap my arms around him, I can hear a mumbled noise. Peter. I almost forgot he is here too. Reluctant, I let go of my boyfriend.

“Hello Peter.” My brother is standing in the doorway and has a smile on his lips. He is always so weird about Danny and me. He still looks so ... proud, I guess. As if he still couldn’t believe it. “I don’t want to annoy you guys any longer. Daniel if you want to talk again, I am free most of the time.” Peter pats me on the shoulder when he passes us on the way to wardrobe. “Or you could stay for dinner. If Mina doesn’t mind of course. Daniel made Kjøttboller.” Both of them look at me in surprise. It was not typical for me at all to spend more time with Peter than I needed. Especially outside of our childhood home. Mum hosts a Dinner once a week since I moved out. Whenever we could, Tuesdays were spent there. Recently I used this to speak with Peter more. It is weird but I miss him around. Apart from the dinner I only see him at hand overs for babysitting.

“If it wouldn’t burden you, I would love to try whatever Daniel made.”, Peter replies. “Don’t expect too much. There just meatballs.”, says Daniel and than he presses as short kiss to my lips.

“Do you have time to fly to Norway soon?” We are both not sleeping that night. He didn’t tell me that he is going to retire yet. But I know he knows that I know. If that makes sense. Daniel probably hasn’t said it out loud yet. Not even to himself. Saying something makes something more official. It is like when you say I love you for the first time. It is a big step that can’t be taken back. Nevertheless, the unspoken words are hanging between us. Both too restless to sleep because of it.

“I am going to Wisla. But I could fly to Norway before or after that.”, I answer his question. His hand is running over my chest. It is dark so I can’t really see him, but I think he is sitting a bit up. “I need you there when I tell people. Without you I can’t do it.” “Of course. Tell me when to book flights and I will do the rest.” I swallow hard. Just don’t start to cry, Domen. Daniel is now living here. I will see him more often now since he doesn’t need to go back to Norway that often. And Danny will probably come to a few competitions at least. I close my eyes. “I am proud of you.”, I say and try to hide my trembling voice. “Don’t you think it is cowardly to just give up? To just retire?” There it is. Retire. Fully officially spoken. I turn to my side to face him. I trace his hand on my chest and take it into my hand. “I think it is brave that you know when to stop and to leave the world you have known forever.” It is quiet on the other side of the bed for a few moments. “Thanks, I needed to hear this.” “I love you, Daniel. Of course, I know what you need and now you need a big cuddle session.” As I speak, I wrap my arms around him and pull him into my side. “I love you too.”

The whole flight to Oslo, Daniel squeezed my hand so bad that I almost asked him if he changed his mind. But the look of relief on his face when he realized that he wouldn’t need to jump this time he was back in Norway, made me realize that he was just scared. Scared of what his family and team will say.

The first stop of our list is his family. Trude Tande breaks out in tears as soon as her son announces his retirement. Tears of relief, I should add. Daniel told me once that she always is nervous watching him jump but after Planica it got worse. After we left his family home, we get to his trainer. The only time Daniel said it makes more sense to be alone when he tells someone. So, I wait in the car. He is already in there for half an hour. I don’t know if it’s long or short for this kind off conversation. I never had one myself and I never occurred to me to ask my brothers about their talks with our coaches. I run my hand through my hair while I text Nika to ask how she has been doing. Our schedules didn’t really align the past couple of weeks, so I just saw her once. I would probably have to wait a few hours for a reply since she is in the gym right now.

I look at the watch in the car. Now it has been 40 minutes. At what point should I go in and storm into the office? An hour? Just as I open the car door, Daniel comes out of the building. His eyes puffy and cheeks red. I slam the car door behind me and take a step towards him. He wraps his arms immediately around me when I reach him and buries his face in my neck. “Everything will be alright.”, I say because I don’t know what else to say. Daniel is clinging onto me, and I brush lightly over his back. “It was just so hard seeing the petty look on his face.”

We stand there for a while. I don’t know for how long exactly. At some point his cries get less and less. “Are you okay getting in the car?”, I ask him. He nods quietly and I let him go but without really letting him go. I still hold his hand until he is sitting in the passenger seat. Before I close the door, I give him a small kiss. I take a deep breath outside the car. It hurts so much seeing him like this. We both know it is the right decision, but ski jumping was such a big part in his life. Of course it hurts.

“Should I call the guys and cancel?”, I speak when we finally reached Daniels flat. He invited his teammates and a few old friends to his apartment in Oslo, which he kept until now. It is time to tell them about the retirement as well but after the conversation with his trainer I don’t know if it is the right thing to do today. Some of his teammates are on the way to Wisla as well and booked their flights over Oslo to be here. But I am sure they would understand if he would cancel. “No. I think I have to do this today and I want them to know.” While I nod, I wrap my arms around his torso. He is too restless to sit down, but I trap him near the couch where I sit. He puts his hands over mine and breaths in. Finally, the nervous energy leaves. “Do you want a shot maybe? Or a glass of wine? Beer?” My boyfriend turns inside my arms until he faces me. I open my legs for him and invite him to take a step closer to me. He runs a hand through my hair. “I have a better idea to get the energy out.”, he smirks. “You know the guys are coming in an hour, right? And we need to do the food.” I know logically that it isn’t a good idea, but I let my hand run down his spine until I reach his ass. “Strong words for someone who is practically forcing me onto his lap.” “Force of habit.”, I reply while I put more force in to get him on top of me. He chuckles. “We make it quick.”

 Daniel looks so much relaxed when the doorbell rings. While I put the last mini pizzas in the oven, he opens the door. Andres Fannemel is the first to arrive. He is already retired and not much around in the ski jumping community at the moment. I probably haven’t seen him in at least two years. But Daniel and him kept close contact. “If you want something to drink, Domen is in the kitchen and will get you something. I just put some music on.”, speaks Daniel and the hallway.

I can hear the steps of the Norwegian and swiftly put the last utensils in the cupboard. “Domen.”, nods Anders when he enters the kitchen. “Hey Anders. How is it going?” The retired ski jumper shrugs. I don’t think he is particularly fond of me. Maybe he thinks it was my fault that we took so long to make our relationship public or maybe he just doesn’t like me. But it has gotten better of the years. “Good actually. How are things with you?” “Still trying to figure my form out. Apart from that everything is relatively fine.” Apart from the fact that all my close people in world cup chose to retire. First Cene, then Mac (who just took a break but somehow hasn’t been back), of course Peter and now Daniel. “Are you coping without Peter in training?” “It has been harder than I thought but it is okay. I am a bit closer to my other teammates now.” I take a glass out and give it to Anders. He looks suspicious at it. “Behind you are the drinks.” “And how are you coping with this?” He pours himself a coke into the glass and leans against the table. “With what?”, I reply hesitantly. A smirk is building on Anders face. “It is kind of obvious. Never have I ever seen that Daniel hosts a team dinner and the way he spoke about ski jumping the last few weeks. You forgot that I am already retired. I know what leads to this decision. So, how are you coping with Daniels retirement?”  

Daniel pops into the kitchen. “Rob just texted that he and the others are almost there. The flight from Trondheim was delayed.” Just as he speaks the doorbell rings, and he is out of the door again. Anders still looks awaiting at me. “For him it is the best decision, and I am happy for him. Personally, I would want him to continue but not under those circumstances. Luckily, we live together now. Without that I would be way more stressed about this.”

Daniels flat is packed with ski jumpers and ex ski jumpers. I get a few surprised glances when Dannys teammates realize that I am also here. It is uncommon that I would join a team get together from team Norway. I mean I have done it from time to time but not regularly. But this one is a Daniels place, so I don’t think it is too strange. But it raises suspicions. Robert takes one look at Daniel when he arrives, and I know that he could tell like Anders. It is the way his gaze softens when he picks up on the energy of Daniel and me.

“So, Daniel, why are we here? What’s up?”, says Marius once everyone is settled in with drinks. My gaze shoots up my boyfriend who is already looking at me. I give him a warm smile and lean a bit against him. Again, I am sitting on the couch, and he is standing. This is our thing now apparently. He sets his hand on my shoulder and holds himself steady. Daniel looks up at his friends. I do the same. Some look worried, some look curios. Anders looks proud. “Ehm, I invited you guys over to officially tell you that I am retiring.” I can feel the way he tenses through his hand on my shoulder. I lay my hand on top his and wait on the reaction of his teammates. Robert is the first to speak. “Daniel it was a pleasure.”, he stands up and gives my boyfriend a hug. “I don’t know what to say. My god, Danny.”, Halvor follows. A few seconds later Daniel is surrounded by his teammates in a big group hug.

Next day is the day of the official public announcement. The team thought it would be fitting to shoot the video at the holmenkollen hill. I must agree that the location is perfect. It still is the last place where Daniel won. I am standing behind the camera and watch my boyfriend prepare. The whole night he was up to find words. “Okay Daniel. When ever you are ready.” And then he begins. He is more pulled together than I thought. A proud smile appears on my face. When our gazes meet, he nods barely visible. “I have given this decision a lot of thought. There is a mental barrier that remains after my fall in Planica, the fear has grown bigger than the joy of jumping.” I smirk when I hear a version of my words from when he told me.

When he is done, he takes a few steps in the direction of the hill. I follow him. Daniel looks up the hill with a smile laugh. “I can’t believe this is it. This is really the end.”

[givemea-dam-break]

Can I request a Lockwood x reader oneshot with angst prompt 45 and 24?? 🥺🥺 I love your stories 💖💖

a/n: of course!! thank you for your support - I'm so glad you like my stuff! i hope you enjoy <3 this includes mentions of holly munro from the books (i love her so much) but nothing too much about her so to anyone who hasn't read the books, don't worry

warnings: angst, mild language, mentions of panic attacks prompts: "You left, you left, and now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened." and "Just give me another chance. Please." gn reader

Maybe working at Satchel's wasn't a good idea.

Having been an agent, you don't have many transferrable skills for a job beyond teamwork and stone-hard dedication, but beyond that, well, there isn't much. Like most agents, your time at school was very limited, and your qualifications are limited to 'professional ghost-hunter', making it very hard to get a job outwith being an agent.

Yes, you could've gotten a job at Fittes or Rotwell or Tendy or a thousand other agencies, but the thought of going back into the field... Satchel's is much preferable.

Except when your ex-boss, ex-best friend, ex-crush (ex most things, really) appears.

For a while, it was someone else that he sent to get supplies, and more often than not you were working in the back processing stock. When you first started working in the front, behind the till, it was still usually Lucy or George that came along, and you'd have a nice little chat with them. After all, they aren't the problem.

No, Anthony Lockwood is.

You're not sure where it all started going wrong. Maybe it was just that last case you went on, or, further back, maybe it was the slowly built-up frustration that emanated between you both for months. If you wanted to go even further back and agree with the anger that once coursed your very veins, you could say it all went wrong when you joined his company and entrusted your life in his hands.

To begin with, your day was going fine. You restocked the shelves with the products that customers could be trusted to handle safely and then went into the back to ensure all of the big stuff - the industrial magnesium flares, the heavy-duty chains, et cetera - were all accounted for. Your boss even got you a cup of tea for you to drink in between customers.

It's a shame half of it was spat out when Lockwood stepped through the doors.

Okay, exaggeration. It wasn't half, but it may as well have been.

For a moment, you believe he's a figment of your imagination, a being conjured up by the feelings of fury and loneliness and frustration you've dealt with for the past couple of months, the same feelings that make you dream of him even when you don't want to.

But, then, his eyes meet yours, and you know he's real. No dream, no image mustered up by your traitorous mind, could ever paint such eyes so accurately. Hues of burnt umber and sienna and copper would become muddled beneath your mind's hand, but here, they're so bright, so beautiful.

He strolls around for a little while, plucking salt bombs and dried lavender bunches and silver wards off of the shelves. He inspects a few different rapiers, holding them to the light and testing their weight before returning them to the rack and testing the next one until he finds one he's happy with. Trips to Satchel's often meant he'd come home with a new, fancy rapier. He wanders for longer than is necessary, almost like he's trying to convince himself to come over and speak to you.

Though you've had at least twenty minutes to mentally prepare yourself for him coming up to the till, your heart still pounds in your chest with a mix of anticipation and anger.

"Ah, (name)," Lockwood says as he approaches. His voice is entirely casual, but you know from his pacing around the store that he feels otherwise. "It's nice to see you. How've you been holding up?"

You type the products into the machine. "Fine. You?"

If the short answer takes him off guard, he doesn't show it. "Good. I'm good. I was actually hoping to see you here today."

Great.

"Is that so?" For the sake of your job, you keep your customer service voice on as you bag up the items.

The slight shuffle of his feet is something not many people would take note of, but you do. After years of knowing him, it's like a massive flag waving in your face with the word NERVOUS written in bold letters across the face of it.

But you ignore it. It's not your place to take note of it anymore.

"I wanted to ask you if you'd consider joining Lockwood and Co again."

Your heart stops beating, and your hands falter. "This is hardly the time to discuss that, Lockwood. But I can give you an answer right now: no."

You don't look up at him, because you already know the face he's pulling. It's not one he does on purpose, quite the contrary, but the way his eyes soften and his lips part in a sad manner has always persuaded you to agree with his cause, no matter how angry you would've been with him. So you don't look, because every ounce of self-respect you have left and cling onto will crumble if you do.

"If it's about that case-"

"It is." You take the owed money from his hand and pass his bag of products over. "Besides, by the sounds of it, you've hired someone new already. Holly, I think Lucy said her name is. Two months since I left - that's got to be a record. How about you get Holly to help you out with whatever has led to you crawling back to me?"

"(name)," Lockwood says, and the smallest undertone of desperation catches your notice.

It's then that you look at him, and every vestigial of your anger, the only thing that has stopped you from breaking into a million pieces the last two months, threatens to melt away under the warmth of his eyes.

"It's not the same without you at home," he continues. "We all miss you."

"This isn't the time for this conversation," you insist.

He looks around, giving you a temporary reprieve from his gaze. "I think we've got time. There aren't any other customers just now."

"I'm on shift, and I'm not getting paid to humour this dream of yours."

"Is that all it is? A dream?"

You pause, looking at him incredulously for a moment. "Could it ever be anything but? Lockwood, I almost died on that last case because you didn't do what you said you would. You left. You left me Lockwood, all alone in that room while I had the worst panic attack I've ever had, and now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened!"

"I thought you were already gone," Lockwood says. There's a defensiveness in his voice that you just can't be done with. "How was I supposed to know you were still in there? You'd told me five minutes before you were going to head home because you felt ill, and I was going to go a little after you once I'd made observations because we were going to reschedule."

"I screamed for you," you say, but your voice has dropped to such a quiet whisper you're not even entirely sure he's heard you. "I screamed as that ghost put me in ghost-lock, but you never came. I still have scars from the ectoplasm burns."

That gives him pause. "I didn't know."

You shrug. "Doesn't matter now. I'm not coming back - to Lockwood and Co, or to being an agent. I'm done with that life. Now, if you've got everything you'd like, I ask that you please leave. And, no, be quiet, you don't get to say 'but I haven't gotten you' or some corny line like that. Not anymore."

Desperation fills those eyes of his. "Just give me one more chance. Please."

"Even if I could forgive you, which I don't, I can't go back to ghost-hunting. My therapist has banned me from doing it, to make a long story short."

"Your therapist?"

You look away from him again, unable to stand another second looking at him. "Inspector Barnes... he found me the morning after the case walking around London trying to find my way back to Portland Row. The ghost messed me up pretty bad, so he organised therapy, paid for by DEPRAC, thank god. Even he's telling me not to come back."

"He did always have a soft spot for you," Lockwood says. That line should be accompanied by a charming grin, or at least a smile with a hint of teeth, but there's nothing but guilt and regret.

"What makes everything worse," you say, "is that you were my best friend. Shit, I dreamed of us being something more than friends, and I trusted you with my entire being. But I screamed for so long. There was no way you couldn't have heard me unless you'd left, too, even though you'd told me you were going to observe the ghost that night before leaving. I couldn't speak when Barnes found me. So don't come here begging me to come back, because I won't do it."

"You wanted us to -" He falters as if trying to decide which part of your spiel was the most important.

He's taking too long, so you say, "I'm asking you to leave now, Lockwood. Goodbye. Have a wonderful day."

Pain flashes in his eyes, so acute that it's almost tangible, but you grit your teeth and ignore it. He doesn't deserve to feel that way.

"Please, (name)," he says, begs. "You wouldn't have to do fieldwork. You could be an assistant or something."

"Seems Holly's got that covered for you already." You push his bag closer towards him. "Goodbye, Lockwood."

As if on cue, the bell at the front door chimes as another customer strolls in.

You ignore the agonised expression on his face, fueled by the rage you've learned to survive on. You can already feel that horrible loneliness seeping back into your bones, longing to reach out to him and agree to go back to Portland Row, back to him, but you force yourself to stand your ground. Going back there would bring back nothing but painful memories and feelings you've fought to keep away.

And, though you long to give into the feelings, to allow yourself to feel the love for Lockwood that's always lingered even through all the pain, you push it down and watch as he leaves, dejected and hurt.

But it'll never compare to what you've felt.

Once, you would've given anything to see him happy, to take away any glimmer of pain he felt, but you've got to come first. You have to.

You say goodbye to Anthony Lockwood, and goodbye to the things you've felt for him, no matter how badly it hurts.

[oh-stars]

Grapevine

Love is giving them space when they need it.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1692 words | CW: minor character death mentioned | Rating: T

--

It wasn’t a spectacular day to start with, but Eddie really didn’t think it could get much worse than it had been. Steve had been late to work because of a phone call with their landlord that took too long and Eddie overslept because he never wakes up to the alarm, can barely hear it in his slumber so when Steve didn’t wake him up along with the alarm, there was no hope for him. They’d been panicking and scrambling to get out the door to the point they both forgot to kiss each other goodbye – which is the biggest red flag for an awful day. 

Eddie’s boss kept giving him the most impossible cars to work on, and the one time he had an easy fix, the customer was a dick. He kept nitpicking what Eddie was doing, from pointing out where the spark plugs were down to how much force he used to tighten the bolts. It was so bad that he had to work through lunch to finish on time, which meant he was clumsier than normal. And if he dropped his wrench on his face one more time, he was going to lose it. 

Steve’s day wasn’t much better, with parents calling him so frequently about the upcoming field trip that he could barely teach. Of course his students picked up on that, too, so they were especially unruly between the excitement for the end of the week trip and the idea they could get away with it. Then he had to cover for Sheila’s pick up duty and had already told Ron he’d take over his afterschool program during his paternity leave 

So they were both already in sour moods when they met up at the diner after work. 

“I’m so glad we already made this plan,” Steve admits as he adjusts his glasses to read the menu. Why? Eddie has no idea. 

“It’s a standing date,” Eddie says with a laugh, fingers playing with their straw wrappers. 

Steve shrugs. “Still better than cooking dinner.” 

Eddie lets out a breath. “You got that right.” 

“I don’t know what I want,” Steve mumbles, tapping a finger against his temple from where his elbow’s propping up his head. 

“Want me to choose for you?” Eddie asks, hooking his ankle around Steve’s. It’s an unspoken understanding in the community that they’re together, but the less said and shown the better. It’s been years since anyone’s tried to invoke some kind of reaction, but Steve’s reputation as a coach for the basketball team at the high school does wonders. Eddie’s always amazed that a few good years of a sports ball thing could have an entire community turning a blind eye to a couple of “sinners” like them. Who cares if Steve’s a homosexual when he’s leading their boys to championships three years in a row? 

Steve nods and sets down the menu. He offers it to Eddie but Eddie really doesn’t need it. 

When the waitress comes back, he orders them both breakfast platters with extra sausages for Steve and a side of pancakes to share. The smile on Steve’s face is enough to know he chose right. 

“Breakfast for dinner?” Steve asks, leaning forward. 

Eddie just grins. “Felt like that kind of day.” He really means that today’s been shitty enough and they both could use the pick me up. It’s obvious Steve’s at his limit; he only has a hard time voicing his wants on really tough days, where the world expects him to give every shred of himself over for little in return. Eddie knew this was coming, had seen how Steve was having more and more days of quiet nights and clinginess as his brain begged him to take a break. It happens a few times a year, so Eddie’s prepared. 

Steve takes a sip from his pop and plays with the straw, foot twitching against Eddie’s leg. “Are you willing to reschedule Hellfire?” he asks softly, batting his eyelashes to sweeten the deal. 

“I don’t know, Stevie,” Eddie says, dragging it out. He will, for Steve. The others will bitch and moan, tease him for bending over backwards for Steve but rarely giving the same courtesy to the others. It’s not his fault none of them are in significant relationships right now. 

“C’mon, I just want to get away,” Steve says, there’s almost a whine to each syllable. 

Eddie collapses into his side of the booth, back of his hand held to his forehead. “Fine, if we must,” he says. Getting away sounds perfect, really. Going somewhere where they can be anonymous or just hunker down in a hotel room to themselves… Yeah, that’s just what the doctor ordered. Maybe they can find a hotel that has a big enough bath for the both of them or has a hot tub they can soak in – whatever would work to sooth his aching back and joints. Then his stress could fall away too. 

Steve’s smile is so wide, even as he laughs, it nearly melts away the stress he’s holding in his shoulders. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Of course, Stevie,” he says, sitting up. He’s about to say something else when a man calls out to Steve. 

“Yes, sir?” Steve asks, taking off his glasses as he sits up to face the other patron. 

It’s Mr. Seymour, he used to work at the bank before he retired. Now he’s down at Melvad’s, giving Eddie disapproving looks whenever he stops in for his smokes. He walks forward, cane snapping against the tile loudly, and offers Steve his hand. 

Steve stands to shake it. “How are you doing, Mr. Seymour?” 

He waves him off. “I’m doing about as best as I can be,” he says. Then shakes his head. “I won’t keep you long.” Mr. Seymour gives a great big sigh and shakes his head. “I just needed to give you my condolences.” 

Condolences?

Eddie tries to catch Steve’s eye, but he’s not looking at him. Instead, Steve’s brow stays furrowed as his lips form a question he doesn’t get to ask. 

Mr. Seymour continues. “I was about your age when I lost my own father. It’s never easy, no matter how much time you get with ‘em. And your father,” Mr. Seymour whistles, “he was something special. Always knew he would make it big and he did. Haven’t seen someone who knew how to make a deal since he left Hawkins. It’s a damn shame he passed so young. Just a damn shame.” 

A pen could have dropped in the bubble of silence that surrounds the three of them. Eddie sits up a bit straighter. Why didn’t Steve mention his dad died? He went on a three hour rant after Father’s Day when his dad sent him to voicemail all weekend and couldn’t let go of the passive aggressive self-help book his dad sent for Christmas and birthdays. He would have mentioned his passing. Right?

Steve’s expression is blank. A steely look of control and a practiced emptiness that sends chills down his spine.

Shit. He didn’t know. 

“Thank you, sir,” Steve manages to say. 

Mr. Seymour nods and claps Steve’s shoulder before he shuffles back toward his table of elderly men. He gets to live in blissful ignorance of the bomb he just dropped on Steve’s world, leaving Eddie to help pick the shrapnel out of their arms and piece it all back together. 

Steve drops back into his side of the booth and runs a shaky hand through his hair. 

Eddie knows he’s far, far away, stuck in his head as the words sink in. He thanks the waitress for the food and quietly nudges Steve into eating. He doesn’t press when Steve stops after a few bites, just eats his own food and grabs the ticket to pay. Steve doesn’t even acknowledge him as he guides him back to Eddie’s van, leaving the Beemer in the driveway. He’ll call Wayne and see if he can’t take him to pick it up later, after he makes sure Robin’s got Steve. Steve shouldn’t be alone right now, not really at least.    

He keeps his right hand on the center console, palm up in case Steve needs the contact. Steve doesn't take it through their drive back to the apartment, barely looks at him while they make their way up the steps. 

Steve wanders through the house in a haze until he ends up in their bedroom, door closed behind him. 

Eddie sighs and leans against the back of the couch. He can’t imagine how broken things have to be that Steve finds out his dad died through a stranger, off-handedly. They didn’t have a perfect relationship, not by far, but Steve’s mom was still alive and their relationship was definitely better. 

He shakes his head. Fuck the Harringtons. 

With a deep breath, Eddie takes off his shoes and heads toward the bedroom. He’s quiet as he slips inside and doesn’t bother turning the light on, using the hall and natural light to see. 

Steve’s just sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. 

Eddie kneels down beside him and carefully unties his shoes. He peels them off and reaches for Steve’s jacket. “Let’s get you comfortable, baby. Then I’ll give you some space,” Eddie whispers. 

That gets Steve to look at him for a moment, dark eyes shining in the dim light. He squeezes them shut but lets Eddie maneuver his arms to remove his jacket and swap his work polo for a sleep-shirt. Steve helps him take off his pants and slip his legs into Eddie’s pajamas, the old flannels ones with a hole at the crotch that’s noticeable but not big enough to toss yet. 

“There you go,” Eddie whispers. He leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. “I’ll be outside if you need me or want to talk, okay?” 

Steve just nods, slipping under the covers and curling up. 

Eddie creeps back out of the room. In a moment, he’ll call Robin and let her know. But for now, he’ll give Steve his space, let him process it all on his own time.

--

Thanks to @lady-lostmind for betaing!

Ao3 Link

[2030kamenriders]

Persona 5 gameplay updates:

I think everyone needed to go easier on Futaba during that one week before the field trip arc. If she wants to wear a giant full-face mask while working at the café, let her. In fact, if it's to scare away rude customers, I think she should be encouraged to. (Also shout-out to Yusuke for bonding with her over superhero action figures)

Speaking of Yusuke: he has adopted 2 lobsters! Proud of him :)

I feel like the arc with Morgana leaving the crew temporarily could've been written better? It just feels a bit inconsistent somehow, but I can't exactly put my finger on why. However, the arc did properly introduce Haru, and she seems nice, so there's that!

I like how this new level is set in a sort of space station. Also I like the little puzzles incorporated into the different levels! In this level, you have to adjust the right switches to unlock different doors that you can float between.

What I don't like is how the boss battle for this level has a timer. I have lost this one a couple of times and had to rewind by a couple of in-game days.

On an unrelated note: the reporter character creeps me out. I know that interacting with other characters is pretty important in this game (you get various power-ups when Joker becomes closer friends with various characters), but Joker has been ignoring all of her texts. (Let's hope that doesn't have any major consequences in the overall story)

You know who Joker hasn't been ignoring? Akechi Goro (the Herlock Sholmes guy). I like their whole rivalry-friendship thing they have going on! I wanna see where it goes.

Also, I like to think that (despite everything) Joker does pity the guy a bit. Akechi seems like a lonely guy, and having a few good friends would help him out I think.

I have basically started ignoring Joker's part-time job duties at Fictional 7/11. He's making a lot more money from dealing with persona monsters in the Mementos subway.

[natedogx15]

Miraculous Descendent Chapter 38: After School Job

Previous Chapter

In the middle of the day, standing out front of the hotel run by Nate's father is Miss Bustier's class. In front of them are Samuel, Miss Bustier, Nate, and Marinette, next to a table with a raffle machine full of tickets next to them.

"Welcome to Le Grand Paris, students. My name is Samuel Dupain, brother of Mayor Tom Dupain and owner of the hotel. I'm also the father of this young man that I'm sure you're all acquainted with." Samuel tells the class in a kind and enthusiastic tone while rubbing Nate's hair.

"Dad." Nate groans in frustration as he pushes his dad's hand off, much to the amusement of his peers.

"Hahaha, sorry, Son. It's part of a parent's job description." Samuel laughs before looking towards the students.

"Thanks to the generosity of Mr. Dupain, we're able to have our work experience field trip today at the Grand Paris luxury hotel. Each of you will get hands-on experience with one of the many jobs here at the hotel. What jobs do you have prepared for them, Mr. Dupain?" Miss Bustier asks.

"Well, we have a doorman position, pool boy, cleaner, garbage man, and my personal favorite, the gopher position open for students. Of course, there are more than those that the students will have to do." Samuel explains to the students before motioning toward the raffle machine.

"You'll each be drawing a raffle. Whatever job it says will be the job you'll start with. Every hour or two, we'll have you swap positions with another student so everyone can find a job they might enjoy here." Samuel explains.

"Now, who would like to go first?" Samuel asks the student body.

"Oh, me, I'll go first." Kim excitedly says while waving his hand.

"Alright then, come up and draw one," Samuel tells him while grabbing the raffle machine's lever and spinning it to mix the folded notes inside up.

Kim rushes over, and Samuel stops spinning it to let him pick a card. When Kim unfolds the card, he sees the word doorman on it.

"Oh, perfect, we still haven't found a replacement doorman," Samuel says with a grin, and Kim leaves.

The rest of the class follows Kim's example and grabs their jobs from the machine.

Alix, Ivan, and Sabrina got maid duty and will be helping them clean the guests' rooms.

Nate, Chloe, and Adrien all got front desk duty and would be helping guests to their rooms.

Rose, Nino, and Max have kitchen duty and would learn from the chefs while helping the waiters pass out the food.

Juleka, Mylène, and Nathaniel have pool duty. They'll be helping clean the pool while ensuring people are being safe.

That leaves Alya helping sort out the garbage with the recycling while Marinette is the one to get the gopher job.

"And remember, while this trip was completely voluntary and doesn't affect you in any way school-wise, you're still expected to be on good behavior while helping here. With that said, I also want you to try and have some fun here during your time." Samuel tells everyone before letting them enter the hotel lobby and then leave for their jobs.

As she's leaving, Alya looks incredibly frustrated.

"I can't believe my first job will be working in a trash can. I was hoping to spend time with Mom while here." She groans.

Marinette, on the other hand, looks at her card in confusion.

"Excuse me, Samuel," Marinette calls for her uncle's attention.

"Yes, Marinette," Samuel says, giving her his full attention.

"What's a gopher?" Marinette asks him.

"Oh, a gopher is an employee who goes for anything a customer needs. Some customers here are so busy that they can't go out and get items themselves, so they employ people to do it for them. Your job will be to get those objects they request from around the hotel or near the area." Samuel explains to her.

"Okay, so all I have to do is buy their groceries for them?" Marinette asks for clarification.

"Exactly." Samuel nods.

The two's conversation ends when they hear Kim scream in panic. The two, plus Nate, Adrien, and Chloe turn toward the door to see what the commotion is about.

There they see a tall man with light skin, greenish-light blue eyes covered with dark eyeshadow and eyeliner, wild black hair with purple tips, and a black mustache that isn't connected in the middle but connects to his full black beard.

The man is wearing a sparkly black jacket that gives the impression of the night sky with yellow accents and yellow epaulets over a dark blue V-neck undershirt, black and yellow vertical striped pants, lacy black finger-less gloves, black heeled white sole black boots, and a string necklace with beads and two golden feathers surrounding the upper skull of a bird's head.

Next to the man is a slender, dark-skinned woman with pinkish-purple hair in a pixie cut, light brown eyes, and pink lipstick on her lips.

The woman is wearing a black leather jacket with a silver buckle and zipper over a white V-neck short-sleeve shirt, black pants, and black shoes. Around her neck is a gold chain necklace with a green skull pendant. In her hand is a clipboard.

However, the most shocking thing, and what likely scared Kim, is what the man is holding. In the man's head is a black leash holding a spike-collared crocodile.

Next to the group is a large amount of luggage on a cart that Kim's struggling to push in.

Nate, Chloe, Marinette, and Adrien gape at the person in the lobby while Samuel looks shocked at the crocodile before shaking it off and walking over to the man.

"Welcome to Le Grand Paris, sir. Do you have a reservation?" Samuel asks in a professional tone.

"Jagged Stone has a reservation set up already." The woman answers for the man in an equally professional tone.

Samuel looks toward the three students at the front desk, and Nate immediately types into the computer before giving his father a thumbs up when he sees the reservation.

"I see. We'll take your bags to your room then. Is there any other way I can serve you today?" Samuel asks the man.

"Fang better get a real bathtub, not a tiny water hole like the one in that hotel across the street." The man tells him in a heavy American accent.

Samuel looks toward the woman, then the crocodile, then the woman again in uncertainty. She takes pity on the man and points to the crocodile. With a grateful nod, Samuel turns back toward Jagged Stone.

"No need to worry, Mr. Stone. We have everything your crocodile will need when it comes to the bathrooms. But first, I must ask if your crocodile will cause trouble for anyone at the hotel while you stay here." Samuel tells him, and Jagged Stone waves him off.

"Don't worry, mate. Fang'll be nice while here." Jagged tells him in a slightly offhanded tone.

His dismissive attitude causes Samuel to look towards the man's assistant worriedly.

"Don't worry. Fang is well-trained enough not to cause many problems while Jagged Stone stays here. The worst may be what happens inside Jagged's hotel room." She explains.

Samuel nods but does give a warning look.

"Well, as long as you don't cause too much trouble while here, I suppose it's fine." Samuel nods before looking toward the three teens at the front desk.

However, Nate has already grabbed the room key and heads toward the group.

"Here you go, you're room is on the top floor in the most luxurious suite," Nate tells them while handing the woman the key.

The two adults look at the teen in confusion, probably wondering why someone not even out of high school is working in a high-brand hotel before Samuel cuts in.

"We currently have a work experience field trip going on for students during their break from school. A whole class decided to work in the hotel today." Samuel explains before putting his hands on Nate's shoulders.

"And this one would be my son. So, he has to work here anyway since I have him help around if he wants an allowance." Samuel grins while Nate's expression remains calm.

However, his eyes soon narrow when he sees someone peek out from behind Jagged Stone's luggage cart.

The person peeking out is a young man with light skin, blue eyes, and medium-length combed blond hair with pink tips. They're wearing a white V-neck T-shirt with ripped sleeves and the black outline of Jagged Stone's face, dark blue ripped jeans with a brown belt, black heel boots with skulls on the ankles, black laced fingerless gloves, and a silver necklace with matching skull pendant.

The man has a smirk and a camera in his hands as he peeks out and stares at Jagged Stone.

However, none of the adults noticed, focused on their conversation. When Jagged hears Samuel's words, he grins.

"Rock on. Send the kids to my room, and I'll give them a couple of autographs." Jagged Stone tells him.

"I'll let them know when it's time to switch jobs." Samuel nods with a smile.

At this point, Nate isn't the only one to see the man. As the man tries to sneak off to the side, Fang takes notice of his presence and happily follows after the man while Jagged is distracted.

"Dad." Nate tries to warn his father as he watches the man dive behind a desk, not noticing the crocodile following him.

Unfortunately, Samuel isn't paying attention.

"Great, Penny and I'll be relaxing in our suite then. The plane ride here drove me crazy." Jagged groans in annoyance.

"Well, I'm sure you'll- Samuel starts before Nate elbows his father in the gut.

Samuel glares at his son in anger and says.

"Nathanial, what the heck was that-" He's cut off again when he looks to where Nate is pointing and sees Fang heading towards the desk where the man is hiding.

At the same time, the man peeks above the desk to take a picture when Fang walks next to him and lets out a playful growl, causing the man to turn and see him.

"Ahh, ahh, ahh!" The man screams as he unstably jumps backward from Fang into the middle of the lobby.

Everyone in the room looks at the man. When Jagged Stone and Penny see him, they gain annoyed looks.

"Oh, no. Not him again." Jagged sighs in annoyance.

Seeing his covers blown, the man smiles and waves at Jagged Stone excitedly.

"Do you remember me, Mr. Stone? It's Vincent Aza, your biggest fan. Just one photo so I can show everyone we're best buds, please." Vincent begs while excitedly waving his arm and crossing his fingers at the words best buds.

"I know exactly who you are. You're the man who's been to all of my last thirty-six shows. And we ain't friends." Jagged Stone tells him in annoyance as Penny glares at him.

However, Vincent doesn't listen and gets close to Jagged Stone wrapping an arm around his shoulder before lifting his camera to get a good shot of them.

"There! Look into the lens!" Vincent excitedly shouts as he's about to take the picture while Jagged Stone looks uncomfortable.

However, Penny intercepts by covering the lens of Vincent's camera when he snaps the picture and quickly follows up by ripping it out of his hand.

"Didn't you hear Mr. Stone? You still don't seem to understand, do you?" Penny angrily shouts at him before grabbing Vincent's arm and putting it behind his back to forcefully lead him out of the hotel lobby.

"No photos!" Penny shouts at the man as she tosses him out.

Vincent turns onto his back fast enough to see Penny throw his camera and catches it barely before it hits the ground.

"Good reflexes, but if I see you around Jagged Stone again, you won't get your camera back! This is your last warning!" Penny snaps at him before going inside, leaving behind a seething Vincent.

His anger doesn't go unnoticed, however. Gabriel senses his anger and quickly transforms before heading to his secret base. The base's glass window opens, and Hawkmoth creates another butterfly.

"A nice amount of brewing anger and frustration from a devoted fan. The perfect chance to make a powerful Akuma to take down Ladybug and Cat Noir. We'll see how they handle a more mature host." Hawkmoth says as he releases the butterfly.

Unfortunately, the group isn't aware of the coming danger and doesn't pay much attention to the man after Penny throws him out. They only move on with their day. Jagged Stone and Penny go to their suite while everyone else stays in the hotel lobby.

"So, I'm going to take a guess and say Mr. Stone is an American rockstar," Samuel tells the teens standing around him while he's in front of the hotel's front desk.

"An American rock star. Try the American rockstar!" Chloe shouts at him, emphasizing 'the' in her second sentence.

"He's sold millions of albums and is seen as one of the world's best rockstars. He's super rich too." Chloe tells Samuel with an excited expression on her face.

"And he said we could get his autograph by heading to his suite. This is awesome." Chloe fangirls excitedly.

"Okay, I did not expect to see this today." Nate quietly mutters so only Adrien, who's right next to him, can hear.

Adrien smiles awkwardly as he watches Chloe fangirl. However, Samuel quickly gets everyone back on track by clapping his hands while saying.

"Alright, that's enough. We all have to get back to work. Nate, be sure to help your classmates if they're confused about how to handle any of the guests' requests. Kim, please return to your post at the doors, and don't let that man from earlier back in. Marinette, why don't you go to Mr. Stone's suite and see if he needs anything while getting situated." Samuel begins ordering the students around.

Everyone does as they're told, with Kim heading back out of the hotel and Marinette heading towards the elevators while the other three stay behind the front desk with other employees. Once Marinette gets to Jagged Stone's room and knocks on the door, Penny meets her.

"Oh, are you here for the autograph?" Penny asks her, recognizing the girl from in the lobby.

"Um, yes, no, I'm here to see if you need anything since I'm a gopher right now. But I wouldn't mind an autograph." Marinette tells her.

"Oh, perfect. Mr. Stone needs a new pair of shades for tonight's gig. Red, white, and blue with two large Eiffel Towers on them. Can you see if you can get that for him?" Penny immediately requests.

Marinette blinks before gaining an uncertain look when the design registers with her, and she imagines it.

"I'll try, but I don't know if they make glasses like that," Marinette tells her, and Penny sighs.

"Just try to find something as close to the design if you can't find anything," Penny tells her.

Marinette nods before leaving and heading out of the hotel to see what she can find.

"Maybe I can find something from one of the shops around the Eiffel Tower," Marinette mutters in front of the hotel before heading towards the Eiffel Tower.

When she arrives, she sees a vendor selling sunglasses, trying to catch tourists' attention. Unfortunately, there aren't as many tourists as there used to be in Paris due to Hawkmoth and the Akumas. So, business is more demanding than it used to be. It's not that tourism has completely stopped. People still come to Paris in droves, but it's not as much as before.

Marinette quickly runs toward the vendor with a notepad with Jagged's sunglasses description written down. She grabs one of the sunglasses and looks at it before looking at her notes and sighing in disappointment. She then does this with a few more people and shops before sitting on a bench in exhaustion and frustration as she's unable to find anything remotely resembling Jagged Stone's design.

"This is impossible. I can't find anything resembling what Jagged Stone is after." Marinette groans in annoyance.

"Then why don't you try making them?" Tikki suggests from inside the bag she's been hiding in.

Marinette looks down at Tikki in shock before facepalming.

"Of course. I should have tried doing that from the start." Marinette mutters before quickly buying a pair of glasses and running back towards the hotel.

While running back towards the hotel, she passes by an angry Vincent as he's muttering.

"Why won't he let me take a picture with him? I've done everything to prove how much I'm his fan. I've been to all his concerts, bought all his merchandise, and even sent his crocodile gifts. So, why can't he see that we're best friends?" Vincent shouts in frustration.

Unknown to him, the butterfly Gabriel created is flying above him toward his camera. Once it lands, Hawkmoth's words enter Vincent's mind with the butterfly outline in front of his face.

"Pixelator, I am Hawkmoth. I am here to offer the chance to immortalize your relationship with your hero. All I ask in return is that you claim the Miraculous for me from the ones who will get in your way." Hawkmoth explains to him.

Vincent gains an evil smirk and says.

"Yes, Hawkmoth."

Black smoke covers Vincent, and when it disappears, it reveals Vincent's new form.

Like Fashionista, Vincent's appearance remains mostly the same but with new clothes. He's now wearing a full-body black and blue jumpsuit with a matching helmet with a camera lens eye, and the top left area is uncovered to show his grown-out pink hair that's combed to the side. On Pixelator's chest is a pixel art camera lens design.

"Time to capture my moment." Pixelator laughs before he confidently walks in the direction of the hotel.

Marinette runs through the hotel lobby towards her room and sits at her workstation. She sets the sunglasses she bought down and stares at them intently as she tries to visualize a design that matches what Jagged Stone wants. After a few minutes, the perfect idea comes to mind, and she begins her work. It takes her a while, but she finishes the glasses with a happy expression.

The sunglasses now have Eiffel Towers where the lenses would be. It's colored blue on the right, white in the middle, and red on the left.

"These are perfect. Jagged Stone will love them," Marinette says as she admires her handiwork.

She stands up and heads toward Jagged Stone's suite, unaware of the danger arriving at the hotel.

Next Chapter

[frostbite-yinny]

I work at a shelter, some necessary info is our shelter is sanctuary sized. Stupidly big, has several different habitats to make everyone feel like they are in their natural habitat and has to be constantly patrolled. We let people who want to adopt look around inside with supervision since, well, no matter how friendly they are its important to have a Pokemon that can protect you.

The natural habitat feel can sometimes trigger the pokemon's territorial instinct and we don't want any accidents.

I'm one of the permanent workers. We mostly have volunteers around along with a few seasoned staff. I'm one of the two supervisors here, meaning I deal with the important paperwork (I don't, I just make the other supervisor do them in exchange for taking over his field duty), if something goes wrong employees call me no matter the time, I train newbies and I yell back at the customer when they ask for a manager.

Back to the story;

So, we have a lady come over with his twin boys. We were low on staff that day, as usual, and I welcome them. The mother talks about how her angels want to go on a Pokemon journey and asks to adopt a starter Pokemon. The traditional starters like Charmander, Mudkip, Snivy etc. Are preferred but we also give out Pokemon like Nidoran, Pikachu, Eevee etc. That are generally friendly and preferably are 3 stages.

So, of course, I take them out to the fields. We recently had a litter of eevees come in and getting some of them adopted would be ideal. On the way, one of the volunteers stops me to ask for help. She suspected a shinx has a lump on its belly and wanted me to check it out.

Alright, better safe then sorry. I tell them ill be back in a second and leave my Froslass with them just in case.

Not even a full minute later I hear yelling and run back without even checking the shinx. There is the woman, cursing out my froslass as she crossed her arms and glared at her. When I get there she starts yelling at me and I swear to Arceus it took 15 minutes just to get her to yell a little quiter so I can understand what the fuck is wrong.

Apparently my Froslass grabbed her kids by their shirts and threw them away for touching a Pokemon.

I needed to play a little charades with my Froslass since I know she would never do something like that and you wanna know what her kids did?

They tried to pull and applin out of its apple. I fucking kid you not they tried to pull it out. Look, I understand not knowing it could really harm the Pokemon, but that grown-ass woman had a full on melt down in the middle of a man-made forest for my Froslass stopping his kids from killing an Applin.

I lost almost 45 minutes of my life that day arguing with her, then dealing with the police when she called the officer Jenny on me.

And the most karma she got back from that situation is that officer Jenny warned her not I cluster the emergency line and she was banned from the shelter. That's it.

If she just apologized for her behavior her kids would be on their merry ways with eevees and we wouldn't lose that's much time from our lives.

I swear I'm one bad customer away from just becoming a full-time Pokemon trainer XD

Btw the shinx is fine. The 'lump' turned out to be her whole belly but after a trip to the Pokemon center, we learned she was just fat.

pokémon trainers in customer service: rb this with your wtf stories i'm trying to prove a point

[phoenixyfriend]

👀 PLease tell us your thoughts about the Jedi babies re-growing up among different cultural contexts.

Oh fuck okay

Context: original post, chrono The specific post this ask is referencing: here

Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka), are now staying with the True Mandalorians under Jaster Mereel because the Force said to, go back to the Temple after about a decade. They grabbed Shmi about three months after arriving.

So as far as the cultural background goes, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had similar upbringings. She spent a few years on Shili first, but both spent the majority of their childhoods up to age 13/14 being raised in the creche. So that's the basis that they would default to, in a vacuum.

Nobody is raised in a vacuum.

Along with the Jedi cultural background, they're being raised by Tatooine natives in a Mandalorian environment.

Shmi and Anakin are both former slaves who have desert survival baked into their bones. The longer Anakin spends around her, the more his accent slips, the more he talks about old folktales, the more he uses idioms that don't exist on a cityplanet like Coruscant. All the things that he tamped down to be a Jedi come floating back to the surface, and Shmi's never known anything else. Anakin's knowledge of slave customs make her feel more comfortable, which in turn makes him feel better, and so on.

Mandalore is just... the culture they're living in. You don't grow up in a new culture with a new language without picking up on it personally. (Source: I moved to the US when I was a little under two years old.)

I think the thing I'm going to focus on as an example is the way each of these cultures approaches family, and then maybe how they approach the keeping of peace/what peace means.

Jedi: Where you come from means little, only the legacy you leave behind in your students. Mandalore: You protect your clan and your children; adoption is a major cultural value, if not actually practiced consistently. Tatooine: You can lose your family at any time, so you value what you have in all its forms. You don’t forget where and who you came from, to family of blood and family of choice alike. You cling to your memories and what little you still have of them, to what your master cannot take away.

These are all valid ways to approach family, and each of these approaches can have significant meaning to different people. But they do all, to a certain degree, conflict with one another, despite all three being fairly communal cultures.

The Jedi have a culture, one that’s built on a shared ability and religion over thousands of years. It’s not just an organization, but a continuous community with legends and traditions and art and records. But it’s one that is built on new blood coming in from the outside, volunteers who join because the religion speaks to them (near literally, given the nature of Force Sensitivity), given up by families who couldn’t or wouldn’t teach them in a way that let their talents flourish instead of pushing it all down.

For the Jedi, a culture built on people coming together due to something they have in common intrinsically that their families of blood do not, it makes sense to put emphasis on letting go of that past when they can, and to place importance on teaching lineages. It’s not just the official master-padawan pairs, either, but that’s the most obvious and easily paralleled element. Moreover, a lot of the Jedi culture is about gaining knowledge, so obviously spreading it is good, and also on supporting the galaxy to make it a better place; to view the Jedi order as a heavily communal culture would make sense, since their values are all about selfless betterment of the universe, which on a larger scale is about the galactic conflicts, but on a smaller scale is about supporting their own community, the children and the ill and elderly.

So that is the specific culture that Obi-Wan and Ahsoka grew up in, one that holds blood family as relevant but not particularly crucial to one’s identity, but is structured so people leave behind legacies through education in a manner that often becomes adoptive family (depending on your definition, I guess). Jedi are encouraged to connect to their home cultures, if not their families, with practices like the coming of age hunt for Togruta leading to the young Jedi taking a trip out to Shili to engage in that cultural milestone. This can also be viewed as a way for the Jedi to maintain personal connections to the wider universe, a (not entirely successful, but certainly attempted) way of keeping them from becoming too isolated and insular from the universe at large, and losing touch from what the galaxy actually needs of them.

They’re now growing up with two cultures that do place emphasis on blood and found family.

Mandalore, as presented in The Mandalorian, has their traditional values set as being heavily associated with their armor, battle skills, and childcare. While that’s clearly a set of values that aren’t actually followed by everyone with full sincerity, we can assume that these stated cultural values do have at least some impact on the way the society is structured, since we do see more traditional characters (Jaster, Din) adopt orphaned children and then have the Mandalorian elements of their immediate circles support that claim.

(We’ll ignore Jango and the whole clone army thing because the amount of Sith influence is up for debate and also holy trauma, Batman.)

However, we also see that a lot of Mandalorian culture is built on their family histories. On the New Mandalorian side, we see emphasis placed on the fact that Satine is House Kryze and that she’s a duchess. Her bloodline is relevant, though not the most important thing about her. On the Death Watch side, we have Pre and Tor placing emphasis on the fact that they’re Clan Vizsla, descended from Tarre, that this is important to why they deserve what the darksaber represents, this is part of why they not only deserve to lead, but should for the good of Mandalore.

Bo-Katan’s armor is a family heirloom. Boba’s armor was Jango’s, but before being Jango’s, it was Jaster’s. Armor is important enough to pass to family, but the family can be adopted. This all tracks.

The resol’nare specifies loyalty and care for the clan/tribe among the six tenets.

These two elements seem relatively well-balanced: the importance of adoption and the importance of family as a larger unit on the level of a house or clan.

And then you have Tatooine, which also balances blood and adoption, but for entirely different reasons, that being this: it can always be taken from you.

For all that a Mandalorian could historically expect their family to die in battle, and a Jedi could expect to lose their master the same way if things went poorly, those were usually choices. A Mandalorian was raised to walk into battle, and then they could make that choice to do so. It wasn’t often much of a choice, but they could feasibly turn their back and choose to be a farmer or a doctor or something, and support the people who went out to do battle instead of being the one on the field themselves. A Jedi could choose to be a healer or an archivist or join one of the Corps.

A slave does not get that choice. A slave can be killed or sold on a whim from their master. It’s not a one-time trauma, but an ever-present fear. Your parent, your child, your sibling, your spouse, all of them can be separated from you at any time. You can always lose them, and you have no choice but to grin and bear it, or try to run and die before you reach freedom.

In a context like that, I imagine Tatooine places a very heavy emphasis on family, both of blood and of choice, and on treasuring what you have while you have it. A person is always aware that they can lose whoever they have in their life, and so they make the most of their times together, have clear and consistent ways of expressing that love (I imagine primarily direct verbal confirmations and physical contact, practical gifts like water and fruit). Childcare is important, elders are venerated. Those who survived that far have valuable wisdom, and the children are to be given what happiness they can have before reality wipes that ability from them.

The family ‘networks’ among Tatooine slaves are smaller and tighter knit. There’s less trust for outsiders, but once you’re in, you’re in until you are taken away. Still, families are torn apart regularly, and often can’t contact each other after being separated if they’re sold far enough away, so families stay small because they’re always being broken up. Unlike Mandalore’s tribe/clan system, or the Jedi’s wide, loosely-structured community, Tatooine’s slaves form smaller groups that cling for as long as they can, and try to support each other. (There are selfish ones, of course, especially the newbies, but... well. Most try.)

Tatooine is also much more likely to assign a familial role (e.g. referring to an elder as ‘grandmother’). It’s not uncommon in the others (multiple Jedi refer to their masters as a parent or sibling, like Anakin’s “you’re like a father to me” line), but it’s not as baked-in that such a role should be given.

So on a structural level, we have two people from a community culture with little emphasis on blood family or formal familial roles are now being raised in a community that has them asking “what can you do for the people around you first, and then the wider world?” by people who tell them “your family, blood and found, is the most important thing you have; never let anyone take more from you than they possibly can.”

And that shit has an effect.

For all that Sokanth and Ylliben were once raised with a knowledge that their duty, their goal, was to better the galaxy as a whole, they are now being told that the community that raises them asks their loyalty back, because societies are built on support networks, and if you support the tribe, it will support you. There are parallels to that kind of thinking among Jedi, because it is basic social theory, but it’s not presented as the same kind of cultural value. It’s not given as something to strive for, just a basic fact.

This, for instance, means that once they’re back at the Temple, they have a tendency towards suggesting study groups and other ways of supporting people in their immediate circle, often structured in very unfamiliar ways. Again, this isn’t uncommon among Jedi, but it’s not done in the same way, or with the same emphasis. The Jedi also often approach problem-solving in a different order, so the step of “meditate on it and you may find your solution” often comes before “gather information from people who know more about it than you do,” while Ben and Soka have by this point learned to do it the other way around, because that’s what the Mandalorian system taught them: rely on your family first.

Meanwhile, the Tatooine element of their upbringing has them being much more willing to just... casually refer to ‘my dad’ and ‘my sister’ and so on. They use those words. It’s not just “my master is like a father to me,” but “this is my father.” They don’t hesitate to talk about the family they had and still have in Mandalorian space. None of the Jedi begrudge them it, really, but it’s always a shock to hear for the first time, and between the Tatooine refusal to pretend the connection is gone and the Mandalorian tendency to err on the side of roughhousing as affection, they’re just... odd. It’s not like none of the other Jedi know family outside the Order--some of the old books had Obi-Wan visiting his brother on Stewjon once in a while--or like none of the active Jedi are loud or boisterous, but the specific manner in which Soka and Ben interact with the Order, especially when their dad is around, is very weird.

More Soka than Ben, really, but that’s mostly just because Ben’s a very quiet person until he gets a little older, so it’s harder to notice on him.

Point is, while they still hold to their duty to the wider galaxy and will continue to keep that duty above almost anything else in their lives, the way they talk and act about the subject of family, especially in private, is heavily influenced by their new cultures.

This is already very long but I promised I’d talk about peace so let’s go:

The Jedi seek peace as an absence of war and conflict in the portion of the galaxy under their purview, in hopes that they will prevent as much suffering and death as they can.

The Mandalorians are varied, but Jaster Mereel’s group (which is the community the Skywalkers are with) is likely to view peace as unrealistic to achieve in the long term. They do not seek war, but they know the world they live in, and are prepared to protect against violence as their first resort. They always expect an attack, even if they don’t seek it.

The Slaves of Tatooine view peace as the calm in a storm. It is the status quo. Nobody has escaped tonight, for the guards aren’t searching, but neither is anyone dead. The Master you have is in a good enough mood to not sell you, to not kill you, to not beat you. Peace as an absence of suffering is impossible, so you seek for your master to be peaceful, that is to say: not raging at you.

The scope of each of these narrows significantly. From the known galaxy, to the wars that meet Mandalorian space, to the household one serves.

A community like the Jedi can choose to address peace as something to be sought on a large scale as an absence of war. They primarily function within the borders of the Republic, which has its problems but is largely structured to prevent such things from occurring until the Sith interfere. The Jedi have a structure that allows them to address peace as an ideal to be sought, at least within the borders of the territory they serve.

Mandalore, meanwhile, has been at war on and off for... ever. When they are not at war with themselves, they’re at war with someone else. ‘Peace’ is just the time between wars, and they know that if they do not attack first, they will be forced to defend. Jaster Mereel was known as the Reformer, and part of that was that instituting a code of honor, one that was intended to prevent Mandalorian warriors from acting as raiders and brigands, but rather acting as honorable hired soldiers, or taking roles such as the Journeyman Protectors. Given that, I imagine that he views war as something inevitable, but also something that can be mitigated.

War doesn’t touch Tatooine.

Oh, it might raise taxes and import rates. It might prevent visitors who come for the races. It can do a lot of things.

But to a slave, these are nothing. The only thing war does is affect the master, the person who chooses when their slaves get water, when they get beaten, when they are no longer useful enough to keep around or keep alive.

The peace of a slave’s live is dictated by how much abuse they are subjected to by the person who owns them.

What this means for Soka and Ben is... well, they are viewed as war-hungry by the people who don’t know them very well. They have armor. They focus on fighting, both with and without their sabers. They know tactics better than most masters. They claim that war is coming, and don’t seem too sad about it.

(It is a fact to them. War will come. All they can do is meet it. They’ve already done their mourning once.)

They also... well, Shmi tells them things in hidden corners. How to duck their head to hide the hate or fear in their eyes. How to watch for the anger in the tendons of a hand. The laugh of someone who enjoys the pain they’ve caused, not just the adrenaline of a fight. She is free, and so are they, but she has not forgotten how to hide in the shadows until the master’s ire has turned elsewhere. How to be small and quiet and unseen until the danger passes.

A Jedi’s first resort is words. Their second is their saber. But the Jeedai hold their heads high, and the Mandalorians do the same.

“You rely on the Force, and you have your pride,” she tells them, her hands on their own. “But there will come a time when you will not be able to remind people that you are free. You will not be able to say that you are a person, that you deserve the respect of a living sentient. Perhaps it will be a politician who treats everyone like that. Perhaps you will be captured by an enemy. Perhaps you will be undercover. You will not be able to fight, with words or with weapons, and you will have to know how to survive.”

Tatooine does not have peace. Tatooine only has survival.

And while Jedi fight for the survival and peace of the universe, they are refined and composed. Mando’ade fight like warriors of old, and Tatooine slaves fight like cornered, rabid anooba.

The galaxy comes first, but when the chips are down and the Sith come out to play, Soka and Ben do not need refinement, because they know how to toss aside their pride and live.

[love-toxin]

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

[ships-bynoa]

The Titans are almost back, bitches. aka 3x06

Guys, literally every time the titans are together-or even paired up-the episode gets ten times better, but in 6 episodes there is simply not enough Kory and Gar. I can easily forget that when I’m basking in the episode they are in, especially when they’re giving us family dynamics.

Kory:

“You’re not mad that I left. You’re mad I came back.” Kory’s face tells us Blackfire is right on the money, and who would know her better than her sister?

So, Kory, oh boy. Our girl is on edge. She is slowly unraveling and is super vulnerable and raw with Kom around and little sister is going to exploit it and her guilt, which I think she’s carrying a lot of. So far their dynamic has been fascinating because there’s so much to read between them and so many accusations being flung back and forth, from both. From Kory; you sense guilt and even contempt and from Kom there’s envy and resentment, but also there’s a sense of idealization for her older sister, too, which of course, with younger siblings, there always is an element of that. And as an older sibling, there is always an unspoken and sometimes spoken responsibility placed on them for their younger siblings. Parents often don’t realize it, but they can create a lot of tension within siblingships by assigning roles.

They remember home and family very differently, which is often the case, too. Kom was often thrown in the pit and to that, Kory attributes her sister’s constant rebellion as the reason, and yet, Kory herself was a bit of a rule breaker, sleeping with her guard, Fiddei.

Kory was being suffocated by the laws and customs of her home planet; one could say she rebelled by going on a mission, to escape her duties. Home did neither of them any favors because while one rebelled because she did not fit in, the one who did fit in was dying inside, surrounded by little robots and becoming one herself. Being told what to eat, wear and who to love or be friends with is yikes.

I was thinking Kom began her game of manipulation in the bunker, but she really started before that when she sent Fiddei to bring Kory home when she probably intended to kill him all along. After all she would’ve castrated him if she’d had the chance to for sleeping with Kory in the first place. Shortly after Fiddei’s death, Kory flamed out. No powers. Emotionally wrung out from the news her family was dead and now the culprit is here. These two know each other very well and know exactly how to get underneath each other’s skin. Right now Kom is getting underneath Kory’s and our girl is losing patience fast. 

I’m wondering when exactly Dick will tune into Kory’s anxiety-ridden state and step in to support.

Ultimately, I just want to see what truly happened to the girls on their planet and how we have the versions we have now. Like, Kory said to Rachel, “No one is born good or bad, we are defined by our choices.” I get the feeling Kory has given Kom so many chances to make a different choice and has become disillusioned, meanwhile Kom believes nothing she does will give her the respect she feels she deserves anyway, so she may as well blow shit up, figuratively and literally. At least then she’ll have Kory’s attention.

Gar: 

Gar losing it on Dick was so cathartic and yet he could’ve gone much further, considering Dick abandoned him last season to go jail and hallucinate Bruce. It ultimately led to Gar (and Conner) being kidnapped and experimented on by Mercy. It’s actually all the adults fault this happened, but as the leader promoting his family everywhere he goes, he needs to keep his eye on the ball. He would know if he spent five minutes at home with them that Gar is struggling. Last season Gar was #OperationSaveTitans and this season he’s #ThisFamilyIsDying. He’s doing what the adults should be doing, or at least leading the charge on it. He’s the glue, but who will hold him together?

He’s carrying too much emotional responsibility and Dick’s dismissal, because he is fully locked into Gotham and being Batman, makes me mad. Get your head in the game, Grayson. Gotham is going to eat your family while you retread the nostalgic steps of your past.

We all know Dick’s not good at expressing himself emotionally, though he’s usually forced to express something when talking to or being confronted by Kory, so I was proud of him for giving Gar the floor to speak. I just wish Gar spoke about himself, but then again, he needs more time and consistent offers to be heard. I’m happy Dick followed up the conversation up with a bonding/training session. There was definitely pride in Dick’s face because Gar really has come a long way in this group, but he needs MORE SCREEN TIME. I’d like to see the two of them out in the field together the way we’ve seen Kory this season with Gar and Conner. 

I wonder if Gar losing control is the start of all his trauma bubbling up to the surface, will being in Gotham, hunting down a friend be too much?

As a side, has the CGI tiger face gotten worse?

Kom (and Conner):

First thing’s first, what music are we thinking Kom listens to? Probably the kind of music she can break your tailbone to, like, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole and Jay Z, or Prince, Jimmy Hendrix, Stevie Nicks and Led Zeppelin? Rihanna?

Kom is absolutely a villain this season and if she isn’t, what a waste that’ll be. A mastermind at mind games (see, her picking up the chess piece), who is going to drum up Kory’s paranoia and anxiety around her being there. Trying to kill her suspicion by guilt tripping her while simultaneously being a do good-er to the group, feigning interest in helping the Titans to earn her way in, a tip from our boy, Conner.

She says she wants acceptance and I believe that’s absolutely true, but she doesn’t know how to get that without using power, so she’ll continue to covet acceptance through and with power because according to Kory, she’s always been a climber. Add to that, being born the cursed child and the only royal member born without the gift of fire, something that differentiates them from the common folk, being too frail to participate in the same games as Kory, having a speech therapist be her only friend while being the object of ridicule and you have a villain origin story nicely set up.

I really enjoyed Conner and Kom’s exchange. The boy lit up when he spoke about seeing his family happy and it made me light up. He’s so genuine and has a big heart and Kom is going to take advantage of it, that’s not to say she won’t develop real feelings for him, but she can like him and still use him.

Conner’s “you have to earn your way into the family,” is perhaps an internal and personal struggle he has from sharing blood with Luthor. I think it may come from an insecure place because he was made a titan as soon as he woke up and no one questioned it, but as he’s only half of superman, he’s constantly trying to prove his usefulness for good, which losing Hank has rocked, leaving him vulnerable to Kom’s recognition for his otherness. Their otherness.

She gave us insight into her mind, but also she has likely seized an opportunity to use the vulnerability against Conner and to her favor by making him her kindred. Outcasts. Will she gain influence over him? He’s still young and learning, and trusting, too.

Her interest in him felt layered, ignoring the ugly customs of sex servants, she was also observing Kory’s relationships and ranking them in her sister’s life. Her being able to determine who may have Kory’s interest (which Kory gave away with her vulnerable display of worry over Dick’s welfare in front of Kom) will surely come into play at some point, right? After all, Kom did kill Kory’s last lover/royal guard. This may be me projecting. LOL.

Romantically, I’m waiting to see how they play it before I decide if I like it or not, but so far, they have a nice chemistry. Friendly.

Dick (and Barbara) :

What a lovable dumb ass. 

I was so happy Kory lost it on him and called him on his lone ranger shit, at least when it’s her, even when he’s being an idiot, he’s still listening. “Let’s go.” and I thought it was hilarious that he tried explaining himself, but when Gar called him out, he got all huffy with, “Excuse me, young man.”

Gar asking Kory not to have words with Barbara over Dick getting shot was so funny because Dick’s face seemed to ask the same when she asked how it happened. We love a protective Kory. I’ll be looking at him when it’s his turn to reciprocate.

I don’t like him dismissing their concerns about his personal safety and how it affects them, it’s like he’s learned nothing after running off alone to battle Trigon, or rather has unlearned his lessons of S2. I’d like to see some more permanent emotional growth from him by this season’s end. In his current state, he’s not an exuding leader. He can’t be when he’s still wrapped up in Bruce and all things Gotham. He’s not tuned into Kory’s anxiety, or Conner’s grief and insecurity, or Gar’s emotional burden. 

He’s started making it up to him, but he has much to do in taking Gar’s concerns and emotional needs seriously.

I’m not even going to try and work out the timeline between Barbara and Dick and Dick and old Titans in San Fran and S1. But it doesn’t bode well that Dick’s dream with Barbara ended in a nightmare. 

I wish they’d never did the whole Dick and Dawn relationship in S2 because they’re basically repeating some of the beats in showing us how they don’t work as a couple, only his relationship with Babs makes a lot more sense even though I don't care. Dick has unfinished business with that relationship, Bruce and Gotham and I can only hope he’s wrapped it up for good by this season’s end. I want to see relaxed, smiling and happy Dick in THE PRESENT. I still Babs will be the one to notice and point out Dick's feelings for Kory.

Barbara (outside of Dick) is being downplayed a little, no? Dismissing Dick’s suspicions about Jason when he arrived, showing no knowledge of Jason’s visits to Crane and then taking the bait and moving Crane after he got a light beat down. A commissioner who was also a very capable vigilante is tricked by a recording and goes to meet “Bruce” on her own. I really enjoyed that she could hold her own and the fight scene was really good, but it was a bit baffling that she fell for that ruse. So far, she’s not entirely good at her job.

Dick’s a distraction in his own right and her feelings clearly get in the way, which is why she keeps asking him to leave the precinct and Gotham; because she’s pining a fantasy and he’s ruining it. Lastly, I really like the way Savannah plays Barbara.

Why’d they do that to Tim?? :(

Overall, it was a better episode and I enjoyed it more than latter episodes, but they’re not quite there yet for me. I’m  still waiting for Team Titans.

[talesofthepinktape]

Oh my gosh, just know that your comment literally had me grinning for HOURS!!! I had to keep myself from smiling too wide at work, or else I'd look weird to customers just grinning down at my phone lol.

Thank you!!!! I'm proud of myself to be honest, I think 8k is the most I've written for a fic so far, and it sounds like I did an alright job with it! LOL. But yeah, I'm just so happy that you like it, tbh. I was worried that it wasn't actually any good so your praise is very soothing to me <3.

Yeah, what I really wanted to illustrate with Daiyu's family is the idea that they all genuinely love and care for her, but they also failed her (mainly her parents to be honest.) And I'd like to think I kinda showed that with that interaction: Dongmei tries to soothe and reassure her daughter, but ends up helping to plant an unhealthy idea in her head. In general, there's the obvious tragedy that comes with a loved one deliberately hurting another, but I also think there's another in which a loved one TRIES to help another and ends up making things worse.

And thank youuuu, I will say that Jiaying and Daiyu's sisterly dynamic ended up being friendlier in this fic than what I envisioned for their show dynamic lol. But I feel happy with it, in some ways as I was writing I realized I kind of wanted to portray Jiaying as being more well-adjusted than Daiyu but still having her emotional/mental health struggles. In this, it was going through grieving Lu Ten and ended up expressing her grief in the worst case imaginable (her violence towards Daiyu.)

And I could chat more with you later, but essentially my idea for them was that in Book One, Zhao was Zuko's personal antagonist. Jiaying would be Daiyu's (but I also still imagined them to reconcile later (spoiler??), so more like her antagonist for Book One and then reconciliation in the later Books.)

I kinda patted myself on the back for the Master Tao line lollll. Crazy thing is, Master Tao was never an explicit part of my outline. I had it put down as a MAYBE to include a line about her parents referencing someone else with the same duty (and then the internal bit about said someone struggling), but the idea of Master Tao specifically as Iroh and Ozai's caretaker and that line was something I came up with in the midst of writing. And yeah, she really is a baby :((((. Writing this just made me even happier to know she eventually gets the Gaang as her found family!

Yet again, the recounting of her ages thing is something else I was proud of. I was actually trying to stick close to the ages given to us in the show (or at least in supplementary material.) Daiyu is the same age as Azula, and both are two years younger than Zuko. So, I hope I make sense here lol, I was trying to make sure her age lined up with the other Fire Nation kiddos ages in the flashbacks. Me adding in the specific lines about her ages was, again as a little "behind the scenes" fact, was something I thought of in the middle of writing. I'm glad it was so impactful <3333.

I honestly LOVED writing for Ozai, he's SUCH a piece of shit but it's why I loved writing him lol. But yeah, he's suchhhh a cruel and awful person. This is also the part where you're smarter than me, because I admittedly didn't think of Ozai asking her parents as a cruel thing... I really did just think it was because he wanted to get their approval like signing off a field trip 000000.00000 But, ummmm, we're just gonna go with your interpretation because it's crueler and more fitting with Ozai's characterization lol.

Man, now that you point it out the sheer TRAGEDY of the Songs would be fitting in a Shakespearan play or something lol. Like, the parents indeed agreeing to send her away for her safety only to get no guarantee she'll have that... and this action meaning to protect her just leading to BOTH of their daughters being out of their grasp <<<<///3333. The entire idea of how their dedications to duty ends up stifling and ruining other parts of their life <<//33.

I KNEW you were gonna love the Uncle Iroh bit and tbh part of the reason why I included him was because I knew you'd love it!!! But I also wanted to leave off on somewhat of a light note... I meant for the fic to be a bit darker but not quite as heavy as it ended up being lol. I wanted some form of comfort, and I feel as though there's no better form of comfort than Uncle Iroh!!

It really does make me so happy to see that you love her so much 😭😭. I'm glad you're able to feel that attachment to her... hopefully it means I'm doing something right.

Honestly, I've always felt like sometimes as a writer that I do well at coming up with interesting ideas but struggling with executing it... I hope I didn't fall into that here.

And I also have more info on Daiyu's family that I might send over tonight, if that's okay?? Just some more details on them and their backgrounds <3.

Duty

Context: another one-shot about my ATLA OC, Daiyu. It talks more about her background, specifically with her parents and her older sister.

Word count: 8,348 words

WARNINGS: child neglect and mistreatment. Abuse of power and a brief instance of child abuse from a character named Lady Hana. Ozai being Ozai. Semi-graphic mention of self-harm (I don't think it's too graphic, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.) Brief moments of swearing and anger. Implied alcoholism in a background character. Daiyu's family don't mean to suck but they still end up failing Daiyu more often than not. I think that's it, I'll add more if needed. Obligiatory note for my bad writing, also didn't really edit ooopppsss.

At one point, there had been sweetness in her family.

            Admittedly, the memories were ones that she’d have to squint and scratch at to unveil. Regardless, after some prying she could vaguely remember it—her father’s tender hugs, her mother’s goodnight kisses to her head, her sister’s soothingly rubbing at her shoulders during tense moments.

            Of course, the sweet gestures were always saved for behind closed doors—it wasn’t expected (or, more appropriately, approved of) to see a family with a reputation like hers to be as weak as showing affection.

            How would the court react to her father General Zhulong, Prince Ozai’s childhood best friend and most trusted advisor, picking up his daughter and swinging her around in a hug? How would it appear if her mother Lady Dongmei, Fire Lord Azulon’s handpicked bodyguard for both of his sons, stepped out from her post to greet and coo at her children? No, no, it simply wouldn’t do.

            This duty was just simply expected of her family. The Song family—the family that produced generation after generation of skilled firebenders, and highly believed to be the ones to invent lightning bending. Since the beginning of the Fire Nation, they’d faithfully served the Crown and done whatever they’d asked. Daiyu’s grandmother had been Fire Lord Azulon’s most trusted advisor before her passing. Daiyu’s mother was, as mentioned prior, the fierce bodyguard of both Princes and had been assigned that at a young age. Even her father, after clawing his way up from peasantry and impressing the court, had no issue fitting in with the family code of service. It hadn’t ever been an issue with him—being loyal to Prince Ozai, his friend since saving the prince from a mugging and fighting off thieves together, came naturally to General Zhulong.

            Daiyu longed to be like them. To be seen as loyal and dutiful and honorable. And if following her family’s code of inconsistent kindness would help her, if wearing that emotionless mask would get her on the path, then so be it.

            And maybe sometimes discomfort would gnaw at the edges of Daiyu’s mind as she watched her friends be so openly… comfortable with their families. Whether it be Ty Lee openly crying out with joy and running to greet her parents or Zuko being attached to his mother’s hip; whether it was even Azula basking in Ozai’s praise or Mai receiving a kiss on the head from her father, Daiyu learned to push down the longing so adjust the carefully practiced mask.

            (“Why can’t we be more like Ty Lee and her family?” Daiyu could remember asking one night through a pout.

            “Oh my sweetling, I’m so sorry,” her mother murmured, eyebrows knit with sadness, “We just can’t allow ourselves to show that kind of… weakness.” Dongmei grimaced at the final word, though Daiyu hadn’t noticed.

            Instead, the four-year-old simply gazed down at her blanket and uttered out, “Oh.”

            Dongmei’s shoulders slumped as she gazed down at her youngest. She took a deep breath before leaning in, capturing Daiyu’s attention as she stroked her daughter’s hair, “But just know, that your father and I love you and Jiaying very much. More than anything.”

            Daiyu nodded, eyes brightening just slightly. Dongmei smiled softly, lips quivering in the subtlest fashion as she ducked down to press a tender kiss to Daiyu’s head. Maybe Dongmei would hope that Daiyu would remember from their conversation the declaration of love, the sweet kiss to her temple, the silent vow of devotion. But in reality all Daiyu would recall were those fateful words—

            “We just can’t allow ourselves to show that kind of… weakness.”)

***

            While her parents were bound by duty, her older sister Jiaying had less qualms with bending the rules. Zhulong and Dongmei kept their spines straight and gazes stoic, while Jiaying strutted about with the cocky swagger of a confident youth wherever she pleased.

            Jiaying was ten years older than Daiyu—at this point, fifteen to Daiyu’s tender age of five. Jiaying was a firebending protégé, and quickly getting the hang of lightning bending—yet another member of the Song family to be a master of her element.

            They didn’t have a whole lot in common—their ages, their personalities, and even who was or wasn’t a bender were all different between the two. It sometimes showed, in Jiaying’s stalling to find something to discuss with Daiyu, or in Daiyu’s awkward shuffling to approach her sister in public. Yet, they loved each other—and unlike their parents, Jiaying wasn’t afraid to be open about it.

            Whereas Zhulong could be relied on for an approving nod and Dongmei for the smallest of smiles, Jiaying was much more blatant. She made it a point to greet her baby sister with a high five or a hug, and always tagging on an affectionate nickname at the end of her greetings. Jiaying took Daiyu with her everywhere—to her training sessions, to her adventures down to the market, and sometimes even to her visits with Jiaying’s betrothed, Prince Lu Ten.

            Of course, Jiaying had a side of her that most older siblings did—a teasing side. She loved to pull pranks on Daiyu, whether in public or in private. Daiyu would always have to hold back tears when her sister tripped her in front of all the nobles or brought up embarrassing stories in front of Jiaying’s firebending peers, but she just remembered her mother’s words and straightened her spine like her parents did.

            And sometimes Jiaying would go too far. Sometimes she’d say the wrong thing or be too harsh in her jokes, and Daiyu would have to excuse herself before going off to cry in the closest private room. On those days, her parents would scold Jiaying in the privacy of their home. And Jiaying would always end up slinking into Daiyu’s room with a treat or a toy in her hands and an apology on her lips. Daiyu would forgive her sister, and they’d spend the rest of the night talking—or, however long it took for Daiyu to fall asleep.

            Daiyu was five at that point, and had learned a routine: her parents would gift her and Jiaying the subtlest forms of affection in public. And in private affection couldn’t be guaranteed either—what with how busy their roles kept them—but you could always count on comforting cuddles and kind words when they were around. But Jiaying was a blinding sun, and marched to the beat of her own drum—she’d hug Daiyu, encourage her, and prank her whenever and wherever she pleased.

            And Daiyu didn’t know a whole lot at her tender age, but at that moment it felt like enough.

***

            Daiyu was six when she was assigned caretaker of Prince Zuko and Princess Azula.

            To the Fire Nation officials, she was the perfect choice—a member of the Song family, one of the Fire Nation’s most influential and powerful families, continuing their direct service to the Crown was appropriate. Her father carried this out as the ruthless general leading the Crown’s armies, her mother kept to this vow by being Ozai’s loyal and protective shadow, and her sister would continue the tradition by marrying Lu Ten and fighting in their armies. Daiyu had her part to play, and, according to the nobles around her who suddenly cared so much, she was just so much wiser than the other children her age.

            “An excellent choice to guide the Prince and Princess,” said one official with an approving nod.

            “Is the age not of concern?” said another with an eyebrow raise. The second official’s gaze had a mocking glint that made Daiyu shift in her seat.

            “She might be younger than the Prince and Princess, but she has double the maturity of most her age,” said a third, “She could be a good influence on them.”

            “Well, how soon could she start?”

            “What about the Prince and Princess’ training? How can a non-bender oversee that?”

            “We’d need to get her to start lessons with the Lady Hana as soon as possible. We can’t afford to have the child sitting around and doing nothing.”

            “Oh, and also—”

            “But what about—”

            Words and phrases blurred together with Daiyu’s vision. Her breathing quickened and her hands began to shake.

            The council was asking her to become a caretaker to the royal children. Oversee the lessons, make sure they were fed and healthy, ensuring they were presentable to court, mediate their arguments… she was six. Daiyu was six, two years younger than Zuko, and two months younger than Azula. How was she supposed to take care of them?

            “—Lady Daiyu?”

            She jerked herself out of her thoughts, suddenly aware of all eyes on her. Her eyes instinctively flickered past all the other faces at the table—up to the furthest chair on the left side, where her father sat with his fingers laced together. Her eyes went further past to the shadows of the room, where her mother no doubt lingered. On instinct, Daiyu straightened her spine and raised her chin in Ozai’s direction.

            “Yes, my Lord? I’m sorry, my mind escaped me for a moment. It won’t happen again,” Daiyu said in her rehearsed, “wise beyond years” tone. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, weighing her down.

            “I was simply asking for your answer,” Ozai purred, gaze relaxed yet sharp and zeroed in on her alone, “What do you say? Will you take up the honor and responsibility of preparing my children for glory?”

            She gulped. Her eyes went back to the shadows—Dongmei made her presence known, eyes bright and a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Daiyu’s eyes went back to that chair—Zhulong’s orbs held an approving light, and pride rolled off of him in waves.

            Daiyu faltered, When was the last time they were this proud of her? In public, in front of the court and everyone?

            Dongmei’s smile. Zhulong’s pride. Daiyu’s eyes went back to Ozai. A moment passed, then two, and her mouth opened with a reply.

***

            “I’m so proud of you, my sweetling, you made the right choice today,” Dongmei gushed. Daiyu sat in front of her mother as Dongmei gently ran a brush through her long, black hair.

            “Thank you, Mommy.”

            “Oh, my love, you’ll be brilliant,” Zhulong said, “And really, there’s no greater way to serve the Fire Nation than to serve the royal children. They’ll be the next generation, and you’ll be the reason they continue the legacy of our people.”

            Dongmei nodded enthusiastically, “Like your father said, love. Our family has been serving the Nation in many ways over many, many years. You’re helping continue our service, and we’re so proud of you.”

            A knot formed in her stomach. Where was this when she scored top grades in her class? Where was this when she got the leading part in the school play? Daiyu gulped, twiddling with her fingers yet again. She spoke through the sudden dryness in her throat, “B-but Mommy, Daddy, I-I don’t know what to do or how to help them. Will you be there to help me?”

            Behind her, Dongmei gently set down her brush. Across from her, Zhulong rose from his chair and came to sit in front of her. Someone spoke, but her heart’s sudden pounding drowned out who, “My dearest, you’ll be fine. You know more than you think. And besides, no one was an expert on the first day. Both of us have had our learning curves, so has your sister, and now so will you. It’ll able be worth it to make the Fire Nation and the Royal Family better.”

            The other—whoever it was—spoke now, “You’ll learn, I promise. You’ll do great. Others have come before you and succeeded, and you’ll join their ranks in making our nation all powerful. Hey, you’ll be just like Master Tao. Don’t you love Master Tao?”

            Master Tao, Crown Prince Iroh and Prince Ozai’s own caretaker. He was a few years younger than Prince Iroh, and was still present in the palace to this day. He was a favorite at court, with his gallant nature and booming charisma. Her parents had a point—Tao was beloved and respected, two things Daiyu wasn’t. Though it also made her think of what her classmates said—how, apparently, Tao spent all his free time at the bar owned by one her classmates’ parents. Apparently, he spent a lot of his time staring off into space and slamming back as many drinks as he could.

            “Yes,” Daiyu managed with a forced smile, “I’ll be just like Master Tao.”

            Her parents’ cheer was drowned out by her heart’s continuous pounding.

***

            “So, caretaker, huh?” Jiaying’s soft voice broke through the darkness of her room. Daiyu jumped from her bed, too lost in her thoughts to have even noticed her older sister. The older girl was playing with the golden charm bracelet—a gift from Prince Lu Ten. In all her years alive, Daiyu had never seen her sister take the bracelet off.

            “You’ll have to be sharper than that, kid,” Jiaying said with a soft smirk. Daiyu’s gaze remained wide-eyed, though her shoulders stiffened and then slouched. The elder’s smirk dropped at that, a stricken look taking over her features, “Shit, sorry kid, I didn’t mean it like that.”

            Jiaying quickly crossed Daiyu’s bedroom, sitting herself next to Daiyu. She hesitated before throwing an arm over Daiyu’s shoulders, “I’ll be there. As much as I can, at least. I can make some excuses over having more stuff to teach Zuko and Azula. An-and Lu Ten said he’d make up some stuff about wanting to be around longer. I’ll help you as much as I can, kid. I promise. You won’t be alone.”

            Daiyu simply stared at her sister, eyes still wide and unblinking. Jiaying shifted uncomfortably. She opened her mouth to say something else, when she was suddenly interrupted by Daiyu throwing herself into Jiaying’s chest.

            It took Jiaying a second to recognize the dramatic heaving of her shoulders. It took her another to absorb the sounds of sobs echoing in the room. It took her a third to realize why her shirt was suddenly wet.

            Tears sprung to her own eyes. Jiaying sat there for a moment, before clearing her throat and wrapping her baby sister up in her arms.

            Nothing would get to Daiyu. Not while Jiaying was there.

            She’d make sure of it.

***

            Daiyu’s first year as caretaker came with messes and mistakes. She messed up on schedules, appointed the wrong teachers, and stuttered when presenting their progress in council meetings. But she also got Azula to learn lightning bending, helped Zuko unlock his firebending via old tips from a scroll, and mediated their arguments to perfection.

            (Her father hugs her in public for the first time at the ceremony marking her new duties. Her mother makes a declaration of her love and pride in front of the whole court. Her sister holds her hair back when Daiyu heaves up her dinner as anxiety wrestles and wins. Daiyu is seven now.)

            Daiyu’s second year as caretaker came with new faces and adjustments. Somehow, Mai and Ty Lee ended up being added to her nest of clients. Her duties go from juggling Zuko’s sensitive cluelessness and Azula’s blunt cruelty with their formal duties, to coaxing Mai out of her gloomy funks and soothing Ty Lee’s insecurities.

            (Her father lets her sit in on one of his meetings, perched on his lap and smiling brightly—never a public sight before. Her mother takes Daiyu as her “date” to a formal ball, and they spend the night with theirs hands locked and smiles shining like stars. Her sister talks her down from her gasping panic attacks. Daiyu is eight now.)

            Daiyu’s third year of caretaker sees her finally settle into a routine. There was the first year of scrambling and grasping for stability, when the stability she sought slid through her fingers like sand. And then there was the second year of being thrown off her axis, with more on her plate and duties becoming overwhelming. And now there is the third year, where her days pass in blurs of duty duty duty—

            (Her father gushes about her to visiting nobles. Her mother sings her praises to whoever listens. Her sister is shipped off to war, and reluctantly leaves Daiyu to handle her breakdowns alone. Scratching at her arms and ripping at her nails becomes her new coping mechanism. Daiyu is nine. The world is already swallowing her whole.)

***

            Prince Lu Ten is dead. Crown Prince Iroh returns from Ba Sing Se a failed general with no heirs. Whispers fly through court about who would succeed Iroh once he passed—Lu Ten was his only child, after all.                  

            Jiaying returns home with no victory to boast of and no betrothed to hold her in tender moments. Her wry smirk is replaced with a twisted snarl, and the light in her eyes is more akin to the glint of a sharpened knife than that of a bright spark. Her shoulders are fixed in a permanent tense slouch, and the rest of her frame is like a tightly wound coil, always ready to spring. She constantly has a hand on her golden bracelet, as if someone was going to rip it away at any moment.

            Zhulong tried to greet her during her return, and Jiaying simply pushed past her father without a second glance. Dongmei tried to coax her out of her room for dinner, and Jiaying simply hissed that she wasn’t hungry and slammed her door.

            Daiyu was only nine, but she thought she understood why Jiaying was so angry. Lu Ten had been her whole world—or, at least, that’s what Jiaying had said to Daiyu once when talking about the prince. The rest of it could be pieced together. Much like with Daiyu, Zhulong and Dongmei loved their first born but were bound by their duties. They were frequently busy, and sure they spent some time together as Jiaying learned bending, but it was still irregular. The other children had shrunk away in fear at Jiaying’s power, but Lu Ten hadn’t wavered once. He’d come to Jiaying with an open mind, and they won each other’s hearts in the end.

            Jiaying had expanded her circle a bit since then, but it didn’t change how Lu Ten had been the first and, for a while, the only.

            Daiyu thought of that as Jiaying slammed her way through the house, curses being uttered every now and then.

            Her sister once felt like a safe place, but now Jiaying’s security had been replaced by rage and despair. And that scared Daiyu more than anything.

***

            Her teacher as caretaker was the Lady Hana. She was effective and diligent, but also cruel. Lady Hana seemed to relish in the power her role gave her. It had been too many times where Daiyu had run to Jiaying through the tears in her eyes, and just as many where Jiaying had used all of her self-control to not attack the elder each time.

            Lady Hana had had less complaints as Daiyu settled into her role, but she still remained in the background… ready and waiting to strike.

            Today had been the Lady’s day to attack. Daiyu had messed up, once again—she hadn’t been watching Zuko close enough, and the older boy had fallen out a tree he was climbing to impress Mai. He’d broken his wrist, and it was all Daiyu’s fault (or at least that’s what Lady Hana told her during her lecture.)

            Lady Hana’s reprimands usually consisted of lectures that lasted who knows how long, consisting of the cruelest words and petty insults tossed in whenever she could. But today, the teacher had escalated—had grabbed Daiyu’s wrist in her hand, and her firebending kicked in to begin to burn at Daiyu’s wrist.

            Daiyu had shrieked in pain the moment it happened, and wrenched her wrist away. She hadn’t even taken a second to look at the Lady’s reaction or excuse herself, instead bursting from Lady Hana’s office.

            She sprinted through the halls, the courtyard, and the palace to her home. Her parents hadn’t been home (away on business, shocker), but Jiaying had been. Daiyu’s older sister was seated at the kitchen table when Daiyu ran in sobbing.

            “Whoa, what happened to you?” Jiaying asked with an eyebrow raise. She took note of Daiyu holding her wrist, and her expression barely changed. She kept fiddling with her charm bracelet.

            “I—Lady—it—please—I—Jia—”

            A huff and an eyeroll as she crossed her arms, “Just spit it out already, Daiyu. C’mon, I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

            Daiyu took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to school herself. She remembered everything taught in her lessons—taught to her by Lady Hana and—

            Her breathing quickened, sobs growing more aggressive as Daiyu’s shoulders heaved. The world spun out from under her, “Jia, please, I can’t—she hurt me—”

            Jiaying said something, but Daiyu couldn’t hear anything over the sudden ringing in her ears. She swore she could taste blood in her mouth.

            A sudden grab on her wrist made Daiyu scream. Jiaying snarled, “For fuck’s sake, Daiyu, learn to grow up already. So what, your teacher hurt you? People hurt each other all the time. You’ve got to grow up already and just deal with it like the rest of us—”

            “OWWWWW! JIA YOU’RE HURTING ME STOP IT!”

            Jiaying blinked and startled at her sister’s primal screech. She gazed down at where her hand held Daiyu’s injured wrist, and her stomach sunk. The area that originally only looked a bit red and dry was now a deeper shade of crimson, and had begun to blister. The newly burned area was in the shape of Jiaying’s hand.

            Jiaying practically threw herself into the kitchen counter as she stumbled away. Daiyu collapsed to the floor, sobbing and wailing.

            “Oh, oh Daiyu, I’m so—” bile rose in her throat, “I—I—oh sweet girl, I’m—”

            The bile was going to win. Jiaying stumbled out of the kitchen, out of the house and Daiyu remained in a heap on the floor.

            Pain flashed through her entire being, weeping and tearing at her.

            I need my mommy, I need my daddy, I need—her thoughts ran rampant, blurring together images of her parents and her friends and Jia and oh spirits, had the pain gotten stronger?

            Her parents weren’t here—they wouldn’t be back for a few days. She could try her friends—no. No, it wasn’t an option. She was their caretaker; she was supposed to solve their problems. It wasn’t their place to see her so weak. Daiyu couldn’t betray her duties like that. Even through the fire blazing through her, that message was burned into her very being.

            The medic, she warbled in her mind, the medic will help.

            She pulled herself off of the ground, stumbling through her home. Jiaying hadn’t even closed the door after running out, leaving it ajar. Daiyu pushed past, tears clouding her vision and her steps more like a clumsy stumble. She barely dodged the puddle of vomit by the front gardens in her quest to find the medic.

            Daiyu wandered without seeing through the courtyard. She was vaguely aware of people’s mouths opening and jaws going slack as they took their second glances. Daiyu thought she saw some try to approach, but she simply pushed past them.

            Weak, Daiyu, you’re weak, she thought spitefully, Letting the court see you like this. Making Jiaying angry. Zuko hurt on your watch.

            The sun was suddenly so blinding in the open courtyard. Wait, courtyard? When had she gotten there? She was going to go to the medic. Where were the medics again?

            Iron pooled in her mouth. Light burned her eyes. Her wrist pleaded with her, pleaded for something. Her heart beat out a new rhythm.

            “DAIYU? What’s wrong?”

            Huh, that sounds a bit like Azula, was the last thing Daiyu thought before her vision went black.

***

            A second-degree burn. Severe exhaustion. Emaciation. Scars from probable self-harm. All things the medic had somberly prescribed her with.

            She could hear the bits and pieces of conversation as she slowly stirred awake. Daiyu’s brown eyes blinked slowly as she took in the sight before her. The medic stood before her parents (when had they gotten back?!), the medic’s eyebrows tilted down in a gentle frown and her hands somberly linked together before her.

            Zhulong was practically a statue, but his eyes were screwed shut. Daiyu could see his hands clenched into fists, and she thought she could see them shaking slightly—alongside the quivering of his lips. Dongmei was equally as still, but her body was stuck with one hand held over her mouth and the other gripping at her stomach. Her dark brown eyes were wide and shimmering with tears.

            “Mommy? Daddy?”

            The words escaped before Daiyu could stop them. Zhulong and Dongmei jumped a bit, before reality set in and they were suddenly at her bedside.

            Zhulong held a hand in both of his, pressing several kisses to her head and face. Daiyu thought she felt the drip of tears, but that feeling was overwhelmed by Dongmei gently scooping her into a hug. Dongmei’s tears were more obvious, shaking at her mother’s shoulders.

            “Oh, my dearest love, I’m so sorry,” Dongmei wept, “How are you? What do you need?” None of them noticed the medic silently slip away. Daiyu was left reeling over the last question. What did she need? But what about her friends? Did Azula attend her history lesson? Did Zuko end up passing his latest firebending test?

            “How about some water, honey?” Zhulong suggested, pulling back just long enough to pour her a cup from the tea set by her bedside. Dongmei reluctantly parted, but busied herself with helping Daiyu sit up. Zhulong gently refused Daiyu’s attempt at holding the cup, insisting at holding the cup as Daiyu sipped.

            Daiyu found she greedily chugged the water, droplets remaining on her chin. Daiyu rose an arm to clear it off, but was beat by Dongmei using her sleeve to dry off Daiyu’s face. Zhulong gently pushed Daiyu’s long hair away from her face, tucking the strands behind her ears. He rested a tender hand on her upper back.

            “How are you feeling, love?” Dongmei inquired gently.

            Daiyu blanched, her memory filling her with shame as she stammered, “I-I’m sorry.”

            Her parents blinked, and took a moment to look at each other. Dongmei pressed, “For what? You have nothing to apologize for.”

            “Yes I do,” Daiyu replied with a frown, “I was weak today. I’ve been weak. I won’t be like that anymore, I promise.”

            Her parents both sputtered, but Zhulong gathered himself first, “What do you mean by… weak?”

            “Well, I cried and passed out in front of everyone like a loser.”

            “You are not a loser, and you are certainly not weak. Who made you feel like this?”

            Daiyu shifted, “Well, Mommy told me that we can’t afford to be weak.”

            Zhulong’s gaze turned sharp towards his wife. Dongmei’s eyes shut, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The older woman took a second before opening her eyes and fixing Daiyu with a steady gaze, “Daiyu, I—I can’t even begin to explain. I—there’s no excuse. I failed you and I’m so sorry. Did,” she gulped, “did you feel like you had to hide how you felt?”

            Ignoring her voice breaking, Daiyu thought for a second and simply said, “Yes.”

            A sob abruptly tore its way from Dongmei. Zhulong wrapped an arm around his wife and reached forward to hold Daiyu’s hand with his free one. Conflict made a mask on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, when a knock sounded. Zhulong paused before sighing and raising his voice just slightly, “Come in.”

            “I’m sorry,” were the medic’s first words, “I just came to check on Daiyu.”

            “Oh, please, go on,” Zhulong said, rising from his chair. Dongmei reluctantly followed him, eyes still trained on her daughter. “I need a moment with my wife, anyways.”

            “Mommy, daddy, is everything okay?” Daiyu asked, eyes wide.

            A pause hit the room. Zhulong looked at Dongmei, who pointedly avoided his gaze, and then Daiyu, “Yes, my love. Everything will be fine.”

            Daiyu nodded, gazing at her parents. A thought hit her, “Where’s Jiaying?”

            Her parents looked at each other. Zhulong cleared his throat, “Jiaying’s put in an immediate request to be transferred. Her request was granted, and she’ll be leaving soon. She’ll be working with General Zhao.”

            Daiyu’s eyes bulged out of her sockets, her stomach sinking. Her sister? Leaving? Was she leaving because of her?

            “We have much to talk about, sweetheart,” Zhulong said, leaning forward to rest a hand on her knee, “But we can talk later. Just rest for now and get better. We’ll be here.”

            “You will?” Daiyu’s eyes brightened.

            Zhulong gulped, a guilty tint in his eyes, “We will.”

***

            Jiaying never came to say bye. The closest sign of a farewell came with Jiaying leaving behind her cherished golden charm bracelet—the one Lu Ten had gifted her so long ago, the one she never took off. The apology seemed to radiate from it. Daiyu wasn’t sure what to do with it.

            The medic was happy to report her burn would heal. Daiyu was good to go in a few days burn-wise, but they opted to keep her in the medical wing for a while long for her exhaustion and emaciation (… whatever emaciation meant, at least.)

            Her friends kept her busy in the meantime. Zuko and Ty Lee were the most frequent visitors, with Zuko reading her stories that Ursa had shown him and Ty Lee showing off her newest acrobatic tricks. Mai and Azula visited as well, but they stuck mainly to the background. Though, it didn’t change the fact that Mai would pretend to leave with everyone else when visiting hours were over, only to sneak back in later in the evening and sit by her bedside. Or that Azula came in the earliest hours of morning, and would switch posts with Mai until she had to attend to her lessons.

(Of course, Daiyu pretended to be asleep during these times… well, sometimes. Other times she was actually asleep.)

And her parents kept their promise. If they weren’t there together, one of them would be a constant by her side. Her mother sang her songs and braided her hair. Her father told her stories of his life growing up and would affectionately mess up her hair. Jiaying remained a prominent absence… Daiyu still didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was one evening when her parents were both present that they were summoned by Prince Ozai. Daiyu didn’t miss the surprised look her parents shared.

“Right,” Dongmei said with a forced smile, “We’ll leave in just a minute. Did he say where?”

The medic hesitated, “... in the Agni Kai chambers.”

Another look. The medic nodded and left.

“Well, goodnight sweetheart,” Zhulong said, standing to his full height.

“Sleep well, my love, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Dongmei said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. When Dongmei pulled away, Zhulong dipped in to drop his own kiss. Her parents then smushed her in a hug between them.

“You’ll be back home tomorrow,” Zhulong stated happily after they had separated, “… maybe we’ll have to talk about some things.”

Dongmei nudged her husband, “But that’s for tomorrow. We do need to talk, but you rest for tonight.”

Daiyu nodded happily. She hesitated, and then stated, “I love you both. A whole lot.”

Her parents beamed. Her father warmly replied, “And we love you too. More than anything.”

Daiyu gasped and grinned, “Really?”

A twin pair of chuckles, “Yes, really.” More farewells were uttered before her parents took their leave.

Daiyu went to sleep, smiling and heart full.

***

(What happened that night, after her parents, wouldn’t be told to Daiyu until she was older.

After Zhulong and Dongmei left Daiyu to her peaceful dreams, they made their way to the Agni Kai chamber.

“I don’t get why he chose there to meet,” Dongmei uttered under her breath.

“Ozai is sometimes… peculiar. I’m sure he had his reasons,” Zhulong replied. Dongmei simply hummed her agreement.

What happened that night was simple, but impactful. Her parents would meet the then Prince in the chamber, and his first words to them were,

“I will be Fire Lord in twenty-four hours. You both will be by my side and in my court.”

The husband-and-wife duo froze in shock. Before either of them could say a word, Ozai plowed on, “He’s been given a colorless, odorless poison. It’s already in his system. His last request will be that I be made Fire Lord; Iroh doesn’t have the heirs to continue the line, anyways,” he sighed, “I need you both to get to work. We need to begin showing our power to the other Nations, and looking for the Avatar. Zhulong, you’ll—”

“Wait just a damn minute,” Zhulong burst out, “W-what do you mean you’ll be Fire Lord? And what’s this of a… poison? Who would even provide it to you?”

“None of your business, General,” Ozai snipped, “And didn’t I make it obvious? I’ll repeat it, I know sometimes peasants like yourself sometimes have a hard time comprehending information.

Dongmei snarled, “Watch your tongue, Ozai.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Save it with the snarls, Dongmei. Now isn’t the time to back down, both of you will be on my court come morning.”

Zhulong gazed in disbelief, “You’ve killed him. You’ve killed your own father and robbed your brother of the throne… but why?”

“Because,” Ozai bit, “I am the one deserving of the throne. My father is weak and passive. My brother spends his time losing wars and moping. But I have never been like them, and I never will. I will find and kill the Avatar, I will make the other nations bow at my feet and beg, and no one will stop me.”

Zhulong staggered back. Over the years, he’d been given warnings from Iroh… warnings about Ozai’s true nature. But he’d always scoffed at his warnings and ignored them. He’d even told Dongmei to disregard his words!

“We won’t let you,” Dongmei insisted, chin raised, “Both of us could take you.”

“And risk imprisonment? Execution?”

“It’d be worth it,” Dongmei hissed, “To keep the Fire Nation from being ruled by scum like you.”

“Neither of you will do a damn thing.”

“And how do you know?”

“Well, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your daughters, would you?”

Zhulong snapped out of his daze, and his sharp intake was matched with his wife’s.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Dongmei’s voice trembled with rage.

“Well, you’re right to an extent,” Ozai rolled his eyes, “Jiaying will get herself killed sooner or later on the battlefield, she’s never been the brightest bulb.”

Dongmei lunged forward, and Zhulong held her back, barely restraining himself. How could he do this? Zhulong thought to himself, rage and despair warring in his heart.

“But the non-bender, the weakling… what was her name again? Oh, right. Daiyu. Well, she certainly does a lot around the palace… wouldn’t it be a shame if she got into an accident?”

“Don’t,” Zhulong pleaded. The man he once called friend simply fixed him with a blank stare. He released his grasp on Dongmei to collapse to his knees, “Please, Ozai, brother, don’t harm my girls. Please. We’ll do anything.”

“Then I’d suggest you both step carefully and follow my instructions,” Ozai commanded, “Do as I say and I’ll keep your daughters, you little Daiyu, alive. If not, well… something can be arranged for the spare.”

Zhulong gazed at his so-called brother in utter horror, “How… how could you do this?”

“Listen to me, brother, I’ve always been like this. You and your wife here have just been too starry eyed to notice,” Ozai straightened, “Go and get some rest. Our work begins tomorrow. I’ll expect you at my ceremony.”

He strode out of the Agni Kai chamber, leaving Zhulong on his knees and Dongmei standing helplessly.

***

Daiyu wakes the next morning to learn that Fire Lord Azulon is dead, and that his last decree was that Prince Ozai would be his successor.

Her parents collected her for the ceremony… and they were both ghosts. Both were as pale as the moon, and it looked like they’d been crying. Nothing showed on either of their faces as the family watched Ozai be dubbed the new Fire Lord. Zuko and Azula are Prince and Princess.

Daiyu is nine when her parents seemingly pull away entirely. Gone were the days of her father holding her on her lap during council meetings, or her mother taking her out to balls. Gone were the days of her father even sending the smallest nods of approval, or her mother sharing secret smiles with Daiyu. They both had, over the span of one night, turned into public statues. Their gazes were blank, their movements stilted and rehearsed.

The only time they weren’t completely emotions were in rare cases, where if you looked at the right time you’d see one or both of them gazing at Ozai with something in their eyes. Something dark and angry that Daiyu couldn’t put a name to.

And then there was their home life. Her already barely present parents became ghosts in their own home, being sent on constant missions by Fire Lord Ozai. And when they were there, they kept staring at Daiyu with sadness in their eyes, and pulling back. With nights like that, Daiyu was sometimes secretly glad they’d both be gone—sometimes it was better to love the memory of a ghost than be treated like one by those around her.

Daiyu was nine. The last time she spoke to her sister, she’d screamed at her, burned her, and then run away to another post. The last time she’d spoken to her parents… well, it hadn’t been speaking as so much as sitting in awkward silence.

She was now caretaker to the Crown Prince and the Princess. She didn’t think her burden could grow any further, but fate had a way of surprising her.

***

Daiyu’s eleven when Zuko challenges his father, and is marred and exiled because of it. The smell of his burning flesh is imprinted into Daiyu’s memory, reminding her… reminding her of her sister.

Her stomach was in knots as she approached the room where Ozai plotted with his men. Daiyu knew her father would be stoically present, and her mother would be in the shadows.

Her presence was announced by an aide, and Daiyu tried not to shrink as every eye in the room swung towards her. She pointedly ignored the gazes of her parents as she bowed.

“Fire Lord Ozai,” Daiyu stated.

“Lady Daiyu,” he said flatly, “What is it?”

Remember to be brave, she told herself. Daiyu cleared her throat as she straightened, “I… I have a request. For you, if you don’t mind hearing it.”

Ozai sighed, “Just get on with it, girl. What is it you want?”

A moment of hesitance led to a firm, “I don’t have all day, you know.”

“Yes, yes, of course. My apologies, my Lord, it’s just… Prince Zuko has been sent into exile for his… transgressions,” That was a grown-up word, right? “General Iroh has volunteered to go with him. I would like to request that I be sent alongside them to search for and capture the Avatar.”

A gasp echoed across the room, drowned by the sound of a chair screeching as her father rose abruptly. Her mother’s feet padded on the floor as she slid out of the shadows. Their stricken looks of shock were almost identical.

Fire Lord Ozai didn’t react to any of it, simply humming, “And why should I send you, girl?”

Because I want to be there for my best friend. Because I want to make sure he isn’t alone, she thought. But she voiced, “Because for decades, my family has served yours. My grandmother was Fire Lord Azulon’s most trusted advisor. My mother is your faithful bodyguard, and my father one of your top generals. My older sister is one of the brightest soldiers in the field, and helped train Prince Zuko and Princess Azula in firebending. I’d like to continue what my family started and be of service to the Crown Prince. I might be young, but I’ve learned a lot by being the caretaker of the Royal Children. I’ve learned combat over the years, and would be able to defend Prince Zuko in battle. It’d be an honor to help Prince Zuko on his quest, and bring the Avatar back for you, my Lord.”

She almost wanted to pat herself on the back for going through the whole speech without stuttering. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the contemplating Fire Lord.

“Hmmm… a decent proposal,” he sniffed, “But not a horrible one. I’d like to see what your parents think of this. General Zhulong? Lady Dongmei? Your thoughts?”

All eyes turned to her parents. Daiyu’s eyes trailed to them a second after everyone else.

The room held its breath as her parents shared a glance.

***

Daiyu would leave with Zuko and Iroh a week later. Her parents had stiffly given their agreements in the meeting, but later that night it felt like hours had passed with her parents pleading with her to reconsider.

(“Please, my love, please consider staying. It’s not too late to tell Ozai you’ve changed your mind,” Zhulong pleaded. Dongmei stood behind him in silent agreement.

“Why are you two so against this? You approved earlier,” her next words were more of a spit, “Besides, it isn’t like you two ever pay any attention to me. Nothing’s going to change for you, you act like I’m not here anyways.”

Silence filled the room.

Zhulong and Dongmei were unsure of how to act around Daiyu after that fateful night with Ozai… how do you face the one you love more than anything, that you’d burn down the world for, and know that your ignorance and decisions have put them in direct danger? How do you not drown in guilt looking at your child, and knowing that they will always have a target on their heads because of you?

How do you face them? But also, how do you let them go? How do you let them go off into exile for who knows how long, to search for someone who might not even exist?)

Daiyu had all of her things packed and deposited onto the ship. She stood on the deck, swaying absentmindedly on her feet as she gazed up on her new home for… now.

Azula had said her goodbyes that morning before going off to attend to her duties. The princess had hesitated for a moment before crushing her into a hug. “… promise you’ll come back,” Azula had muttered.

“I promise,” Daiyu replied instantly, returning the embrace.

Mai and Ty Lee had just left. Ty Lee hadn’t hid her tears as she threw her arms around Daiyu. Ty Lee swore up and down she’d show Daiyu all the cool acrobatic tricks she’d learn when Daiyu returned. Mai had given her a quick one-armed hug, nodded, and wished her luck. Her quiet request about looking after Zuko had been made after a moment of silence. Daiyu’s response had been an instant vow of protection. Mai allowed her glimmer of a smile, then told Daiyu she’d miss her before taking her leave.

Now all Daiyu had to do was get on the ship and leave. It was… easier said than done. Something was holding her back from getting on the boat. Zuko had been the first one on, before the sun had even risen. Iroh had gotten on board with all of his teas and merriness. They were all most likely just waiting for her.

Now or never, Song, get a move on, she told herself. Daiyu took a deep breath, before going to take that first step—

“Leaving without saying goodbye, my love?”

She froze at the sound of her mother’s voice. She thought they might’ve forgotten or… were too mad to say goodbye. Daiyu turned, seeing both of her parents approach.

Daiyu sputtered, “You... you both showed?”

“Of course we did,” Zhulong said, frowning gently, “We wanted to say goodbye.” His voice wavered at the last word.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” Daiyu burst out as her parents reached.

“What? Why did you think that?” Dongmei questioned.

“I-it’s just you both have a lot of responsibilities,” she fiddled with the sleeves of her tunic, where all her scars hid beneath them, “I thought you’d be busy.”

“Not a chance we’d miss saying goodbye to you, petal,” Zhulong stated firmly, “Never.”

“… I thought you’d both be mad,” Daiyu admitted, “I was mean. What I said a-about you two not paying attention. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, my dearest love,” Dongmei sighed, reaching forward to cup Daiyu’s face in her hands, “We could never be mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. We’ve both failed you, and we can never apologize enough.”

“You were right, about us not paying attention,” Zhulong admitted, resting a tender hand on the back of Daiyu’s head, “Your mother’s right, we’ve failed. And we can never make up for it… we just hope that you know we love you. More than anything. I swear.”

Daiyu blinked the tears away from her eyes. She’d dream so many times of them saying those words. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had stared at her so tenderly, or when her father had last spoke more than a single sentence to her.”

“I-I—” I want to go home, “I’ll miss you both, so much. But I’ll be back, I promise.”

“We know, sweetheart,” Zhulong said with a sad smile, “We’ll see each other again. I know it.”

And then her parents, at the same time, reached out to hug her.

The feeling of two sets of warm, loving arms wrapping her in their embrace made her burst into tears. When had been the last time they’d hugged her? When had been the last time she cried? Daiyu didn’t have the answer at the moment. All that mattered was her mother rubbing soothingly at her back, and her father’s soothing coos. The emptiness and the coldness that draped over her like a shadow was fought off by her parents’ love.

She didn’t know how long they hugged for, but she knew the moment was interrupted by soft footsteps.

“Zhulong, Dongmei, Lady Daiyu… I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Iroh said softly, looking at the trio with a melancholy warmth, “We must get going. The ship is ready to sail.”

Daiyu reluctantly parted, wiping furiously at her eyes and fixing her hair, “Right. My apologies, General, for keeping you waiting.”

“Oh, my girl,” Iroh chastised gently, “Our families know each other well enough, you can drop the formalities. Just call me uncle.”

Daiyu’s eyes darted to her parents for permission, and they both chuckled through their tears as they nodded. She flushed as she murmured, “Alright… Uncle.”

Iroh chuckled, “See? That’s more like it. Go on, Lady Daiyu, I’ll be up in a moment.”

Daiyu nodded. She was about to go, when she turned back to address her parents, “I love you both. And if you see Jiaying, tell her I love her, too.”

Her parents almost broke again. Dongmei inhaled shakily, “We all love you too, sweetling, very much. More than anything.”

Daiyu beamed through her tears, before rushing up to the boat. She wouldn’t know how, earlier that day, Ozai had come to her parents and assured them that Daiyu being in exile wouldn’t make her safe from him. How he always had someone ready to carry out his orders. She wouldn’t know how her parents had come to Iroh, swallowing their pride to apologize and beg for him to protect their youngest daughter. She wouldn’t know that Iroh told them there was nothing to apologize for, and vowed to protect Daiyu with everything he had.

But maybe she didn’t need to know. At least, for now.

***

Over the years, a few ideals had been printed into her mind. As she stood on the bow of her home at sea, they painted themselves out for her: perceived, image, reputation. The trio of words had molded themselves into Daiyu’s mind over the years—they almost felt like an irreplaceable part of her at this point. The words made her straighten out her spine, push her shoulders back, and school her softer facial features into an icy cold mask. It was those qualities that made the generals and nobles of the Fire Nation give out approving nods and murmur praises; it was what made her peers shrink away and avert their gaze. It was what made her parents push her away in public; it was what made their home a ghost town.

Even now, the few moments of familial love couldn’t drown out years of conditioning and training. For a few seconds, she was her parents’ baby girl. But now she had to resume the role she’d had since the tender age of six—Lady Daiyu Song, the assigned caretaker of the Crown Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. Promising combatant, loyal servant, and dignified lady-to-be.

Like many Songs before her, she’d shed her weaknesses to do what was expected of her. Like many Songs before her, she’d allow her desire of love and tenderness to be snuffed out by the shackles of duty.

It was her duty, after all.

THE END

[nooneshome12]

Nooneshome12 Fic Masterlist

So I got some requests to make one of these, and I know how helpful these can be so hopefully I’Il make this correctly and not make it ugly as hell. 

One-shots:

Best Friends?- (Post Calamity, Zelda focused/POV, fluff) Rated T

With her century long battle with the Calamity over, Zelda has alot to think about. How should she reclaim her Father’s kingdom? Should she reclaim her Father’s kingdom? But the biggest question on her mind has to do with her relationship with her former Knight attendant  

If you can’t take the heat......- (Modern AU, Chef!Zelink, smut, explicit) Rated E

Link’s a line cook at Zelda’s restuarant, or was a cook before a small mishap with a customers order. Now stuck in front of a sink instead of a stove, he’ll take any chance he can get to make his way back to the kitchen, so when his boss comes in early before anyone else and wants him to help her prep, who is he to deny a chance like that?

Multiple Chapters: 

The Silent Ranger and a Curious Princess- (Fantasy AU, Alternating POV, WiP) Rated M

Link was nothing more than a standard Ranger, meant to patrol the Faron Frontier until the day that he died, and he expecting nothing more. So when both the King and Princess of the kingdom visit this ranger station at the edge of the world, he certainly didn’t expect to have to escort her all the way across the kingdom, hunted by bounty hunters and Gerudo warriors alike. This is my main focus right now.

Courage is (not) Forgotten- (Evangelion/BOTW AU, Mecha, WiP) Rated M

The Goddess is in her heaven, all’s right with the world.

The phrase always gave her chills, no matter how many times she would walk past it, littered in every hallway, cafeteria or dormitory. She tried her best to try and decipher it’s meaning, of course always landing on a negative connotation, that the Goddess has abandoned them, left them to fend for themselves against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm them. There was no Goddess power wielding Princess or Hero with a magic sword to save them, no, instead they would have to do it themselves, only with what they could create.

And they had created monsters, no wonder they had been abandoned.

Dancing, Apologise and Everything In-Between- (Genderswapped Zelink, WiP) Rated M

The Goddess must have played a trick on her subjects, a farmers daughter pulls the sacred sword, a useless prince is expected to have the blood of the Goddess herself. Neither like each other that much, which doesn’t help the kingdoms odds, so when the two are expected to attend a royal ball, they can’t run away from each other any longer. 

Dinner Party from Hell- (Pre Calamity, Finished) Rated T 

Before the Princesses pilgrimage to the sacred Spring of Power, she must attend dinner with her father, a noble who she has never met and his irritable son. Needless to say, it doesn’t go well for either Link or Zelda. Just a quick note this is the first fic I ever wrote so I’m not really proud of it.

Life Changing Field Trip with Zelda and Link- (Pre Calamity, Finished) Rated T

Sequel to “Dinner Party from Hell”, as an apology for the terrible dinner with Haturo and his father, the King grants Zelda a few days away from her royal duties. So what better place to visit than Links home at Hateno. All fluff, especially between Link and his sister.

The Avatar’s Day Off- (Post 100 years war, sad!aang, WiP) Rated T

After having been in meetings with the Earth King and his councilers for weeks, Aang finally gets a day off, and with his firends all over the world there is no distraction from his dark thoughts. Not Zelda I know, but I was in an avatar mood one day, will eventually finish it. 

Art/ Maps:

A Quick Lesson- by @iesnoth 

Link Reference- by @khaydriel 

Shitty map I made- by me

[yunhuntress]

I need to get somethings off of my chest in a vent because I feel like I am going to explode if I don’t let it out somewhere. I’m going to place it under a read more and tag it accordingly so ya’ll can ignore it if you wish. I just didn’t need today to happen. 

Today has been a literal hell for quite a while. It started off with absolute worry and fury on my grandmother's behalf as she was sent to a rehab center after recovering from pneumonia to try and get her strength back. She had a very rough night where she was extremely cold and no one would come in to check on her as she had no call button for the nurses on duty. This was all going on before I had to go into work and my mom had to make phone calls.

I went in to work and arrived only to find out within a minute of being there that one person had called off. About fifteen minutes before my shift was to start, another call off happened from out third person for close. So, from 3:30pm on, it was literally just myself and my closing manager on duty for an insane amount of traffic through the store. Before that time however, I slipped off a ladder grabbing cat food down for a customer from a widespan where it was sitting on top. I somehow managed to grab onto the widespan with my left hand with all my strength and swung toward it to keep from going backwards to the solid concrete floor. I ended up apologizing to that customer for nearly giving her a heart attack as she saw what happened along with her friend.

We got so hammered at work by people and ended up having our Assistant Store Manager come in for her own shopping. On her own time, she jumped right in to help me knock out a long line and also helped my Team Leader sign over a trailer for a sale before leaving. Granted, she didn't have to do any of it but she didn't even hesitate when she realized it was just myself and my Team Leader on the roster.

After getting home from work, I pull up my driveway to realize one of my paint mares is in the wrong field with my mom's mustang and our old mule. I run in to grab a halter and lead rope and come up to see our boarder's horse Toby also in the same field. Thankfully they all get along quite well as long as you don't have food in front of them. Somehow they busted through a section of fencing under our lean too and got in with them. So, with a lot of screaming from my father and swearing from myself while tripping in the mud ten times, we were able to lure the two horses over where they belonged and locked off the paddock so they couldn't get back out to the others. My father as I fixed up the fence and got it working for the evening and I will be checking that in the morning.

I hope to hell it works but I kept the paddock closed just in case as I don't want to have to play chase the damned horses again in the morning when I have so much stress going on stressing about my grandmother's situation. I thought that had improved during the day as my mom had texted me at work saying things had calmed down but now tonight her phone in her room is not able to call out or have calls come in. Thank god she has her cell phone but that is slowly dying and she doesn't have a charger with her I believe. So it's going to be a long ass night.

I'm also feeling tightness hit my chest so hard I can't tell if I twisted my sternum with how I kept myself from falling, or from fighting the horses to get them rounded up, or if it's a combination of stress as well. I'm just so fucking tired.

[vminity21]

Even in the Rain | knj [Part 1]

Pairing: friend!Namjoon X female!reader, exboyfriend!Jimin X bakeryreviewer!reader, friendshiptolovers!au, bakery!au, forbiddenlove!au

Word Count: 18,482

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warning(s):  foul language use, angst involving an ex-boyfriend, mention of alcohol on multiple occasions, mention of infidelity, mention of smoking, eventual smut (potentially in part 2), slow burn, taehyung and jimin are jerks in the story, based on the kdrama, Something in the Rain, i do not own the rights or the show; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Namjoon has been in love with you for what seems like forever. Despite you being five years older, him being your best friend’s brother, on top of your brother, Kim Seokjin, being one of Namjoon’s best friends- nothing will stop him from getting you to notice him, and he also will not let your relentless ex-boyfriend stand in the way of him winning your heart. You, on the other hand, an observer of bakeries notices the feelings Namjoon is starting to etch upon your heart; amidst this budding love, your mind is also confused upon the strange incidents happening between the bakeries planning to franchise together. But, who would want to jeopardize the businesses?

Credit to: @suhdays​ for such a beautiful cover!

The dreary clouds serenade the atmosphere with panging rain droplets while a faint brush of a sigh escapes your lips. Shoving loose hair from your ponytail behind your ears, you steady the umbrella above you- knuckles white from the grip you have on the handle. Once again, you’re scheduled to observe Jeon’s Bakery in downtown Busan- a thriving shop owned by the richest couple ever known, soon being passed down to their eldest son, Jung-hyun, whom you’ve had the pleasure of knowing throughout the years.

Stepping into the bakery- the cozy atmosphere brings a warmth you’ve been needing since you woke up this morning- shaking your umbrella through the crack of the glass door onto the sidewalk, you then return to face the dimly lit décor, leaning your umbrella along the wall. Aromas of freshly baked pastries waft in your direction while you inhale a hint of strawberry. Glistening sweets line beneath the glass cases while heated lights keep them appealing; the other side holds numerous cakes, decked with different colors or flavors- your stomach growling at the desire to purchase a treat or two before leaving.

“Ah, welcome,” Jung-hyun greets with a brief handshake and bow, though the nervous tension crinkles at the edges of his eyes. You, being one of the top members of the corporation, who franchises with Jeon’s Bakery, your reviews are very important- and, with the plans of opening another bakery along with a competing bakery on the other side of town, Jung-hyun is aware of the pressure his family line has to maintain a clean, yet successful business. Of course, with the hopes of the competing bakery, Ji Woo’s Café, signing the contract to officially set the opening date.

“How do you do,” you nod, hearing the padding footsteps of the employees rushing to stand at your presence. One, you recognize to be the youngest brother, Jeon Jungkook, folding his hands in front of him, while his eyes remain cast downward- brown hair swooping over his forehead while he timorously chews at the corner of his mouth. “My, how he’s grown,” you smile, his wide stare greeting yours with a timid bow.

“Just turned eighteen nearly two months ago,” Jung-hyun nods at his brother with pride before returning his gaze to you, “Next thing I know, it’ll be me handing the business to him,”

You can’t help the feeling of dread at how many years you’ve been a part of your job- essentially instructing cleaning reviews or food violations that are still not being met- and you hardly ever admit the gray hairs that you’ve remained to consistently pluck since your twenty-eighth birthday not too long ago. With a long glance around the bakery, you bring your clipboard forward while the click of your heels gives some sort of sound other than the rain prodding the rooftop.

“It is a bit dusty in this section here,” you run a finger over a shelf dawning coffee mugs and other trinkets, rubbing your fingertips together while an employee sprints with a damp cloth to clean the area you pointed out, “And the floor needs to be swept more thoroughly, I can see some crumbs even from this distance,” you hate sounding so nitpicky, but your boss Kim Taehyung, can be, and he expects a lot out of these businesses, so you maintain your duty in making sure everything is spotless, especially since you don’t want anyone, especially the Jeons’, to have to deal with Taehyung’s wrath.

Reaching the cold foods section, you tamper through the packages to check expiration dates, noticing a few will be out of date within the next week, “And, also, Mr. Jeon, make sure to check the expiration dates often, we want customers to be given exactly what they’re paying for without the risk of stomach upset,”

“Yes ma’am,” he bows obediently, while you study the rest of the store before turning to face every employee. A young girl, one who has avoided eye contact nearly your entire visit, cuddles into her thin sweater, your eyes falling to notice her open-toed shoes, “I know accidents may happen from time to time, but with heavy machinery, we use in the back to create such desserts, closed-toed shoes are a must,” though when first starting the job, you used to be afraid to single individuals out, with so many years of experience, it has become immune. “Let this be a warning, okay?” The girl nods in shame, though you give her a look of understanding.

One more detailed sweep, you give Jung-hyun a copy of the notes you made with the direction to continue his work. Reaching for your umbrella, you notice the heavy rain has died down to a soft sprinkle, and once the smell of the rain fills your nostrils, you still open your umbrella in an attempt to protect your outfit since you will be returning to work to finish out the day.

The familiar ‘ding’ of a text tone distracts once your clicking heels round a street where Jeon’s Bakery officially disappears behind you- retrieving it from your pocket, you realize it’s a text from your almost year-long boyfriend, Park Jimin.

Jiminie: ‘Dinner tonight? I think we need to talk,’

Just the simple text, with just a simple intent, with a simple meaning- or what is supposed to be simple- brings a strange feeling the moment you read it. Hardly watching the direction you’re heading, you’re very thankful when the ringtone assigned to your best friend jingles, prompting you to answer immediately,

“How, did you know to call me, right at this exact moment?” Your fingers feel ice cold upon your cheek once the phone is at your ear- and the tiny pain in your stomach is hard to ignore mingled with the bundles of nerves fluttering within your system.

“Glad to know I’m number one on your mind,” your childhood best friend, Monica, teases while a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips. “I’m assuming something’s up?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, brushing past a few pedestrians while your eyes cautiously trail the sidewalk to prevent from tripping over something, “It’s Jimin,”

“Hm,” Monnie hums, the crunch of a carrot sounding through the staticky phone line, “Please tell me you two didn’t fight. Again,”

If the humiliation rising within your chest isn’t obvious enough, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily, trying to suppress the memory of the past month or two within your conscious, “He’s been going on and on about that promotion,”

“And,” Monnie adds, “Let’s not forget you’ve made it clear that you’re not planning on leaving Busan.”

“I know, I know,” the solitude of the area you’re in seems silent, way too silent, and maybe it’s due to the budding sadness. Jimin’s job is wanting to take him to Seoul- nearly 325 kilometers away from where you’ve grown up- where you’ve held a successful job- and, where your family and friends reside. The two of you have been battling it out for what feels like too long, emotionally draining you just as evenly as the stress from your job, “I just wish he would just understand my side for once,” your voice is hushed as if he can hear you, Monica nodding on the other end though you cannot see it.

“Well, how about you change his mind,” a devious tone evident in her voice, “Give him something he wouldn’t want to miss out on if you catch my drift,”

“You are such a tease,” you shake your head incredulously, “But, you have a good point,”

“Uh-huh, when do I not?”

Sauntering minutes longer past the numerous rows of shops, you end the phone call with Monica before your eyes fall upon a small boutique with mannequins adorned in glimmering dresses poised behind the glass window. Maybe an ounce of hope decides to arise, especially the second it leads you into the shop, trying on a few dresses in the mirror until you’ve made your decision.

The dress hugs all the right curves while you run your hands over the fabric- loose curls tickle your shoulders, yet the dress is modest enough to leave mystery- leave eyes lingering whilst you walk by. Except, the moment Jimin takes a seat before you, across the table within your favorite restaurant, his eyes seem to pay more attention to his wine glass rather than sweeping you. His thick lips lay in an obvious grimace, disinterest in his expression to every word you say, yet you remain unaltered, showing him no sign of notice, until he interrupts you,

“I received news today,” he clears his throat, your mouth slightly agape while your eyes widen in anticipation for what he’s about to say next, “They’re promoting me. It’s official,”

“Oh, Jimin,” you breathe, though you’re happy his job is recognizing him for his outstanding work in his job field, you can’t help the sorrow plaguing you at what you know is considered the next step, “I’m so happy for you,” you feign enthusiasm, but he sees right through you, especially when his brown eyes nearly smother your gaze with disbelief, “When- when is the big day?”

“Two weeks,” He counters, eyes falling back to his drink, “Have to clean out my apartment, and leave within two weeks,”

“Two weeks?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden answer, not even giving you enough time to process, one- that your boyfriend of nearly a year will be leaving so soon whether you move with him or not, and two- the realization that maybe, no matter how hard you try to get him to understand you, he just simply won’t. “But that’s so sudden-”

“Just come with me,” he’s exasperated, waving a hand once in the air, “If you’re really as happy for me as you say you are, you’d come,”

“Excuse me?”

“What is it about Busan that you just can’t seem to let go? We will be able to visit family if that’s what you’re afraid of,”

“Jimin, we’ve already discussed this,” you run your hands over the bridge of your nose propping your elbows onto the table, while you try with all your might to calm the anger, “I have a steady job here, one I will not be able to transfer. I’m not ready to just give up my life like this, what part of that do you not understand?” You peer through your hands, “And, I mean, if there’s anything I don’t understand, is if you can visit as often as you say you can, then how come a long-distance relationship sounds so revolting to you?”

Frustration drips from him when he leans back into his chair, eyes scoping the side of the restaurant while his lips press into a firm line. A thought that failed to occur to you from previous arguments dawns,

“Wait,” you inhale, “Are you afraid… that you’ll start seeing someone else?” When he abruptly meets your gaze, your elbows fall to your sides, “Jimin?”

Shaking his head, “Forget it,”

“Then what is it?” You question, “If not that, then what is it?” Investigating his eyes, you’re nearly brought to your knees from the heartbreak wrenching within you, “If this is something that leaves such distaste in your mouth then why not just break up with me?” Without a second thought, you stand to your feet, not even sure how you’re able to with how your body is trembling, but you maintain your balance while you thrust your trench coat on, “You know what? I’ll do the honors,”

He follows you out the door in a mild panic, though he remembers to leave cash behind to pay for the meal. Declining the ride, he offers, you can’t even speak nor look in his direction, your heart-shattering in a million pieces especially when his presence leaves without even a speck of desire to fight for you. You’re rendered speechless the entire walk of the chilly night- shooting a text to Monnie to meet you at a local bar- her treating you to multiple drinks- gulping them down with the intention of drowning in your sorrows.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to stop,” she motions for the waiter to scatter any empty glasses he can before you down your final drops, “Besides, you’re the one who dumped him, so am I missing something?”

“No,” you drag out the word, your head dizzy from the heavy buzz you feel, “You and I both know this is something that’s not easily forgettable,”

“Maybe you’re right, but really, [Y/N], you’re going to make yourself sick,”

“And what if I do? What’s it going to change?” Your words slur, while you lean onto your knuckles- your eyelids squinted in a hazy glance. Mo’s concern is all you can envision while she lightly taps your arm.

“If he were worth it, he’d stay in a relationship with you despite any distance,” her voice softens, her turning to get you to rest on her shoulder, “Besides, if I were him, I wouldn’t have let you walk away, especially with how that dress snugs your ass,”

Cackles erupt from your throat while you lean more into her frame for comfort, “Shut up, no it doesn’t,”

Flabbergasted, she pulls away just enough to stare down at your glossy eyes, “Girl, you look like a twelve outta ten, would recommend, and any asshole would be stupid to let a dime piece like you go,”

“You mean it?”

“Of course,” she wraps an arm under your shoulders to help you steady on your feet, “Now, I’m going to take you home. Your brother is coming home tomorrow as well as mine, and the last thing I need is for them to smell alcohol on your breath,”

“But, but- I’m- I’m not done yet. Just one more,”

“No! Are you insane?”

“Monnie, please, just one more. Just one-”

“Drinking isn’t going to make Jimin’s absence any less painful, now come on, you need to get home,” Reluctantly, you obey, faltering into your home while your parents, who are retired, stare at you with mirrored worry, you immediately bowing in apology before stumbling to your bedroom. The following morning hits you like an ocean wave, your head thudding while you force yourself to sit up- the shower awakens you just enough for you to function, and the minute you’re dressed with a towel wrapped around your drenched hair- you open the door to be greeted by your younger brother, Kim Seokjin.

“You look like you’ve been trampled by ten elephants,” his arms outspread while you gasp,

“Seokjin! You’re home!” Crashing into his arms, he hugs you tight, the safety you feel with him finally returning home brings serenity to the household. You haven’t seen your brother in four years with him studying abroad in America, which reminds you that it must mean Monnie’s brother, Kim Namjoon, who studied the same program as Seokjin, is home, too- though you vaguely remember your best friend making that statement last night before taking you home.

Leaning back to playfully smack his shoulder, you tease, “Don’t think I forgot about what you just said a second ago! Remember, I am your elder,”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh sounds while his shoulders shake, “By what, a few years? And don’t think I didn’t hear about you coming home wasted last night,”

With a roll of the eyes, you hear your mother starting up food in the kitchen, “It’s complicated, but,” with a quick sweep, you notice, Seokjin is wearing an outfit as if he’s about to head out, a backpack still hanging off his shoulders, “But- wait, aren’t you staying?”

“Mom, didn’t tell you? I’m moving out with one of my past friends. Remember, Hoseok?” 

“Ah,” a lightbulb clicks, “The one whose parents own the competing bakery? The one we used to raid when we were children?”

“Yes, that’s the one,”

You remember Seokjin and Hoseok were thick as thieves growing up, so with a curt nod, you elbow your brother’s side, “Good idea rooming with him, but you better visit me. I literally haven’t seen you other than through a phone screen,”

“You know I will,” He promises, “No more phone screen,”

As much as the two of you love your mother, she can be overbearing at times- and, you can’t help with how hard it is to stifle laughter as you watch her pester Seokjin as he’s leaving, “Please eat once you get there since you won’t stay for the meal I cooked- and, please text me once you arrive- remain in good health for me okay- don’t do anything you will regret-”

Seokjin waves goodbye before your mother follows you to the kitchen. Of course, she isn’t going to ignore the incident of you rummaging to make a cup of coffee in an attempt to remedy the hangover you know you deserve after how much you chugged the night before. Unaware of the situation that caused your drunken state, your shoulders tense the moment you hear his name,

“I thought you were with Jimin last night? He’s never let you drink more than one glass. Very insolent of him if you ask me,”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that anymore,” you mumble against the rim of the coffee mug.

“I guess I can forgive him this one time, invite him over sometimes so I can cook you both some dinner. It’s about time for you to settle down and marry-”

At this point, you’re increasingly aware of how late you will be to work if you continue to listen to your mom banter about your ex-boyfriend, one you can’t bring yourself to reveal in fear of disappointing your mother. Although, your father offers to give you a ride, you politely decline, making your way to the nearest station before sprinting into the building of your job.

From the poker face, Taehyung has while everyone files in to their seats, your coworkers LenLen and Shai take a quick seat on either side of you- Yoongi, handy with the technological side of the business gets the screen to load to where everyone can see it. Chairs turned in the same direction, you swallow nervously when a picture of what looks to be bags of flour are revealed to have picked up pesky moths, and the horror you feel when it’s the same store your brother’s childhood friend has grown-up knowing: Ji Woo’s Cafe.

“This,” Taehyung’s voice booms while gesturing toward the screen, “Is unacceptable.”

With slumping shoulders, everyone knows he isn’t wrong, but it’s the embarrassment of knowing this has been missed.

“Who is in charge of keeping up with this particular franchise?”

LenLen hesitates beside you though you’re of knowledge that she is, in fact, the supervisor of the Jung’s shop. You don’t even hesitate to stick up for her, promising you will get to the bottom of this ordeal being that you know the Jungs’ personally. The bus ride over doesn’t take long, but you figure it’s from the trepidation of having to face a family you haven’t seen in so many years over something that wasn’t necessarily in their control. When arriving, the first face you see is Jung Hoseok, messy hair frilly across his forehead with your brother rounding the corner putting on his apron. It takes a prolonged second for everyone to register each other’s presence, and you factor in that maybe they hired a moving company to assist in helping them unpack their belongings. Or, perhaps, Seokjin is staying with Hoseok’s parents for the time being until the two can find a place of their own. Either way, your eyes flicker between the stunned pair prompting you to clear your throat- pressing the tip of your pen onto the pad of paper upon your clipboard.

“Hello, Gentlemen, you may have been aware, but it has been brought to corporate’s attention about flour bags being infested with moths?”

Hoseok wets his lips, frantically looking over at Seokjin who shrugs his shoulders, completely oblivious to the scenario that may have taken place prior to his hiring, “Uh, yes- yes ma’am,”

“And please tell me such a discovery was not, in fact, served to our consumers?” Palms clammy, you’re surprised at how intimidating you can be but with the way Hoseok’s panicky eyes scream innocence, you know that he didn’t do anything of the sort.

“Of course not,” he stammers, your brother glaring a look though he knows you’re merely doing your job.

“Good,” you scribble a few notes of areas you noticed may need to be tidied up before handing it to him, “Just remember to always, always, keep things clean, and to always store packaging in the correct areas. I agree sometimes we can’t prevent everything, but from what I could tell from the picture, the flour wasn’t stored properly.”

“I’m so-”

Gesturing a hand to stop him, you continue, “No need for apologies, just make sure staff is trained to follow protocols. And if I overheard correctly, Jeon’s Bakery may want to franchise along with Ji Woo’s Cafe for the opening of the new store. If that’s the case, then everyone must be on the same page in order for that contract to be signed. Do I make myself clear?”

Hoseok timidly nods, you being grateful that customers haven’t waltzed in especially with it being close to afternoon; glimpsing at your brother, he swallows, nodding once in understanding. In this circumstance, guilt wedges in the crevices of your mind, especially with it, now, involving a blood relative who works within one of the stores your company partly owns. Coming off harsh isn’t who you really are, but the job forces you to be this way, especially when stressing the importance of cleanliness and statistics of sales.

You’re nearly lost in thought- reminiscing on unwanted memories of Jimin, avoiding the ache in your soul when you can’t remember the last time, you’d seen him smile. Blisters form on your feet from your heels, the pain thudding to the point you hardly notice the tall figure inching closer to your frame. In fact, you choose to ignore whoever it is, keeping your eyes ahead with the goal of making it home.

“Is that how you treat a friend you haven’t seen in years?”

“Whoa!” You jolt, whirling in the direction of the deep voice- heart hammering against your sternum while your hand flies to your chest. Dimples immediately appear in your vision while hearty laughter escapes the handsome face of none other than your best friend’s brother, Kim Namjoon. “Namjoon?” Your voice raises in glee, his trench coat loose on his frame, while his wide smile remains on his face, “How long have you been following me?”

“Who said it was me who was doing the following,” he teases while you open your mouth in fake offense,

“Kim Namjoon, yes you were!” Your smile hasn’t been so genuine other than when your brother returned home and reaching forward to playfully smack Namjoon’s arm, he promenades around you while he dodges your every move. The view to outsiders looking in would appear to be a happy couple especially with the way you chase after him, with the contrived promise of embracing him, when really you plan on tackling him for following you for however long he did.

The teasing soon leads to the pair of you agreeing to drinks and dinner- planning to catch up over the four years lost between your friendship.

“So,” your voice is chirpy after taking a long sip of your beer, the waitress settles the entrees in front of you and Namjoon, your elbows resting on either side of the plate while you peer at him over your folded hands. Seeing his face brings a spindle of turning memories- laughter with him and Monnie alongside you, getting into mischievous spouts, causing both pairs of parents in continuous bouts of worry- and the way his brown hair is neatly styled to the way his brown eyes study your every move, you are thankful for his presence, along with your brother’s, being returned to you, “Meet anyone you’ve taken a liking, to?” Namjoon’s only five years younger than you, but with the pressure of marriage being a thought- you’re uncertain if he’s tied the knot- or, more so, your question is directed to if he’s fallen for an American girl, something you’re curious to know about your friend.

A breathy laugh escapes him while he sips his drink, grabbing his fork to play with a vegetable on his plate, “Unfortunately, you’ve remained at the top of my list,” reaching for his drink, he lifts it toward you while you mimic his gesture, clinking them together while you shake your head at him,

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Can’t remember a time it hasn’t,” he takes a bite of his pasta while you conjure up another question,

“Are you ever planning on going back? To America?” Honestly, you’re afraid of the answer, because if he says yes, then that could mean Seokjin will be following suit.

“Actually,” Namjoon carefully places his fork back on the napkin beside his plate, running the back of his hand at the corner of his mouth, “I hope to live there one day. But that’s only for when Korea gets too small for me,”

“Does Monnie know?” Crossing your arms, your appetite is suddenly lost, for the time being, the subject of anyone else disappearing from your life for a while making you feel a small wave of nausea. Namjoon’s eyes flicker to his plate before returning to your gaze which gives you an answer without any words, “You know she cares a lot for you. She’s been talking non-stop about your arrival since you left.”

“I know,” his voice trails, while he clenches his jaw, “I almost didn’t tell her Seokjin and I were coming back,”

“What? Why?”

“I just didn’t want her to worry,” his long fingers grip the handle of his mug while he swirls the contents within it, “She’s already busy enough with work, and my coworkers I’ve returned to have done enough for me, and I don’t want her to feel like she needs to contribute anything,”

“That’s her choice to make you know. You’re her brother,”

“And I care for her a lot, too. Hence, why I refuse to stress her out regardless of my arrival,”

He’s always had this aura about him that you’ve admired since knowing him. The way he refuses to let his burdens be known to the people he loves- he doesn’t want to put anyone through the trouble that he feels they shouldn’t go through. He’s so young with so much to learn, but yet, he is the one that you look up to the most, physically and figuratively, “You’re a good man, Kim Namjoon,” you coo, “Since when did you grow up so fast?”

Tilting his head, he leans forward with a taunting smirk, “And since when did you start getting gray hair?”

Gasping, you grasp a bundle of hair between your fingers while your eyes widen at him, “You take that back!” You threaten, “Are you asking for me to dig your grave?” The laughter that builds between you two is much-needed medicine that you’ve been longing for, and as the playful banter simmers, he takes a bite of his food, dapping the napkin onto his lips before speaking,

“How about you, by the way? Is there a man whose ass I need to kick?”

Squinting at him, you carefully chew your food, “Plenty.”

Offering to pay the bill, he objects, you mentioning how his sister may be upset if she were to hear that, but you make it clear that you will treat him to a meal the next time you two are to hang out. The night falls quickly, the city lights distracting visions of the stars, yet Namjoon leads you to the direction of your home, making jokes on how you never seem to break rules- or, at least, ever since you’ve gotten “old.”

When the city continues to disappear behind both of you, his large hand gently grabs yours, “Follow me,”

“Hm, what? Where?”

“Must you always question everything? Now, come on,”

Muttering under your breath, you squeeze his hand in a way to show your trust, him spreading a wired fence while you squeeze through the opening, him turning to tangle the brush along the fence as if nothing has been disturbed. “Now, can you tell me where the hell we are?”

“Behind the library. Beyond that, passing the bus station is your home,”

“How-?” You can’t help the surprise, especially when your voice carries just enough to interrupt a couple lip-locked in the distance. You’re nearly floored when you recognize the coworker being LenLen while the male, she’s clinging to happens to have strands of blonde hair revealing the face of Min Yoongi. “Holy shit,” you whisper, though it’s dark enough for the couple to not be able to see who has disrupted their peace. They jog away from the scene, while Namjoon chuckles, you wondering how long this has been going on without the corporate’s knowledge, “How did you know about this shortcut?” You change the subject, gulping at the lump in your throat.

“Do you really want me to answer that,”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you glare a suspicious look, “Oh?”

“Other than sneaking kisses to impress the ladies, I also taught Seokjin how to smoke cigarettes in high school,”

“Nam. Joon! You rascal!” You gape in surprise, “I’m telling Mom,”

“Aren’t you too old to tattle?”

“Oh, you smart ass-” He dodges your raising hand as you chase him down, “Come here you brute! Wait till I get my hands on you!” His joke brings you back to the exposed couple from earlier, which then gives you a steady reason on why you should keep your mouth shut- if anything, you are too old to dabble in drama- and if LenLen has finally found a lover who potentially will be her forever- then you will leave it as is, despite it being a work violation of dating someone within the workplace. When the jog slows to a steady pace, your home welcoming your sight, Namjoon speaks,

“Not sure if we ever get lunch breaks at the same time, but if so, you may need to remind me of all the restaurants around here,”

“Is that so?”

“Unless you want to avoid your promise on treating me,”

“How did you know?”

Eyes locking, chuckles reverberate into the breeze while he shakes his head at you, “I’m just kidding,” you finally say once you regain your senses, “Of course, I’d love to. Just text me every day when you start your lunch break. If there’s a time I happen to be heading to lunch too, then we will meet up. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he nods, watching you sprint to type in the security code, you whirling around to wave goodbye while he returns the same gesture.

It’s crazy how beautiful you were before he left for America, and how you’ve remained with the same beauty inside and out as if he never truly left. Other than his family, your face never left his mind the moment he stepped off the plane- some may say it’s because your brother sat right beside him on the plane ride home – but, that’s not exactly the only reason.

Entering your room, your mother bombards you repeatedly with the same conversation on why you reek of alcohol, and why Jimin would let you take it too far. Openly admitting, you happened to be with someone else, your mother continues to pester on how you and Jimin need to find a compromise in order for marriage; how his family are known for their efficacious jobs, how they’re made of money, and that you would be a fool not to marry into his family. Making the excuse that you’re tired and ready for bed, she mumbles that you’re always tired, before departing your room.

Work comes with the presence of Taehyung telling everyone to go to lunch with him, all your female coworkers throwing excuses from left to right about how they can’t make it; which he demands you to join, your coworker Shai promising to tag along, so you won’t feel so alone.

Namjoon: 11:49am- Starting lunch, want to join?

Though you wish you could say yes, you avoid the text message. Following your coworkers into an elevator, surprised to discover Namjoon standing in the corner, realizing his job happens to be within the same corporation but deals with different topics. It’s awkward when your coworkers ask what food you’d like, which you say you’re not particularly picky, Namjoon shooting you a text in a tease of how your taste has even aged. You retort with a text saying to ‘Shut your yapper.’

A few days pass when you’re scheduled to visit another bakery within the city where Monnie sends you screenshots of Jimin’s Facebook page exposing that he has found another girlfriend- one he’s apparently been spoiling before his supposed trip to start a new life in Seoul. The pain seers through every inch of your chest, and it’s hard to recollect yourself enough to return to your job- admitting to yourself you probably missed spots that needed to be cleaned, yet the only tornado jumbling your thoughts are the haunting ones involving Jimin’s face- and the feelings of love you once had for him, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

“According to one of the captions, she’s moving with him,” Monica exhales, “Because dating someone for a week means you should follow them all across Korea. Honestly, [Y/N], I bet this is all a show he’s putting on, or maybe he really has been cheating-”

It doesn’t take long until a recent post is made with the location of their current date- sneaking into the parking lot, you hastily find the valet, asking for the number matching the parking spot where Jimin’s flashy car glistens beneath the starry sky. You’re uncertain of this feeling you hold, but with the anger bubbling within your pounding heart, you know you can’t let this go. The way this girl on his page praises his every move, you even noticing how young she appears, and the lingering fact of him taking her to places you’d always begged him to take you. Nor the pictures he’s flaunting of her that he never once did when he was with you, nearly brings you into a stream of unwanted tears. With all you are, you know it’s not fair. And for that, he needs to pay.

The valet hands you the keys while you ploy your happiest smile. Stepping into Jimin’s car, you pull out the gooiest lip gloss you never use, planting it beneath the passenger side along with the tearing of black pantie hose you purchased from a convenience store on your way here; even laying out a semi-tattered bra you’ve been meaning to throw away, but instead relics beneath the back seat of Jimin’s car. Returning the keys to the valet, you thank them before hiding into the brush a distance away from Jimin’s car where you watch the whole scene play out before you. Watching the girl stampede away while confusion is etched in Jimin’s staggered expression, as his mouth remains agape, doesn’t leave you with the satisfaction you hoped to gain. Instead, you find yourself sitting across from your best friend, gulping down an alcoholic beverage, her moving the glass beside her when she sees the way your eyelids flutter.

“Shouldn’t you be rejoicing?” She questions, your chest feeling emptier than it had before you gained your buzz, “You got your revenge for goodness sakes!”

“Oomf,” you plop your head into your palms before rubbing them slowly along your face, “It’s not that. I mean, Jimin got what he deserved, but that’s not the reason I feel like shit,”

“Okay?” Mo shrugs, “Then, what is it? I know I’ve pestered about your needing of higher standards of men, but really, [Y/N], you deserve so much more than a player like that,”

“I just,” you lazily sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I really thought I knew what love was, you know?” You pause, “With Jimin, the way we met, and the way we clicked at first… I guess I just don’t understand where it all went wrong. Or, what made us fall apart… Maybe, we were never in love after all,”

“Let me ask you this,” your best friend leans forward, playing with a loose string from her sleeve, she tilts her head while she investigates your hazy stance, “What is true love?”

The question isn’t one to shock you; it’s one to make you think, really looking into the depths of your memories to a person you may have experienced love with, and as your eyes flicker upon her face, the answer becomes quite clear, especially when you lean back, the realization bringing the truth you never thought you’d find, “I… I-I don’t know,”

“Exactly,” Monnie points a quick index finger in your direction.

“I’ve never been in love,” you murmur, trying to make sense of this, and wishing you would have realized it sooner.

“If you were in love with Jimin, you would have left Busan behind in a heartbeat. And, if Jimin really had been in love with you, he would have settled for a distant relationship until you made your choice. So why couldn’t either of you find a compromise?”

“Because… we didn’t want to,”

“Because neither of you wanted to,” Monnie smiles deviously before sliding your glass back to your hand that curls around it instinctively, “Now, drink up,” she says, refilling your glass to the brim. Light giggling sounds for the next hour until Namjoon walks in with the intent of checking on his sister. It’s a surprise when he sees you occupying the seat across from her, and as he teases lightly at why Monnie let you get so wasted, she then asks him to give you a ride home.

His heart flutters at the thought of once again getting to spend time with you but he refuses to show it in the slightest; hugging onto Monnie tightly, you drunkenly plant numerous kisses upon her cheeks while she ushers you into the passenger side of Namjoon’s car- you uttering slurred words of songs you hope to karaoke to whenever you see your best friend again- her punching Namjoon’s shoulder for making a joke on who’s going to pay him for being your chauffeur which then prompts him to joke on how violent the two of you are.

Silence becomes too overwhelming while Namjoon keeps his focus on the road, yet all you can think about is how the alcohol hasn’t done its job in letting you forget about your breakup with Jimin. When tears stain your cheeks, Namjoon pulls over, leaving the car until your tears dry- not wanting you to feel embarrassed for crying in his company. Though he wishes nothing more than to hold you in his arms, he knows he can’t.

Your whines to why he stopped the car are what brings him back to the driver’s side, you falling asleep the rest of the way home while he lovingly stares at the peace on your slumbering face. The way your mouth hangs open, cuddled into the corner of the window, he can’t help how cute you look, pulling out his phone to snag a quick picture.

Forgetting his ringer happens to still be on, the sound of the camera jolts you awake, you groggily wiping at your mouth while glaring a hole through his head, “Did you just?”

“No,” Namjoon nearly drops his phone from being caught in the act, sliding lower into his seat as if to hide from you. Sitting up slowly, your eyes dazed from still overcoming your nap, you peer at him shadily,

“Yes, I did, I saw it,”

“Then, why did you ask?”

“I- Hand it over,” palm up, you reach over with the operation to delete the picture, chagrin flooding your features humorously of the thought of him using it against you by posting it on social media for all your mutuals to see.

Jumping out of the car, he can’t help but laugh at your tiny frame, yet again, chasing him down while he holds the phone high above his head. There’s no hope- you can’t reach it- but that doesn’t stop you from trying, “Namjoon, you better delete it, or-”

“Or what? If only you could reach it, then I’d let you win,”

“Oh,” you groan, pressing your forehead into his chest from the exhaustion of the exercise you didn’t plan on doing, “You do realize you are disparaging your elder, correct? My bones feel cracked now thanks to you, Legs,”

He can’t help the way he smiles at you, so wide, that he nearly catches himself, hoping that you will not notice the longing he has to tilt your chin up and plant a sweet kiss to your rosy lips. The rest of the walk to your home continues in spirited bickering- him refusing to delete the picture of you until you accept the fate- igniting the promise you will get him back eventually.

It’s hard for you to look away from him once you type in your security code- the strange jitters you have in your heart at the thought of parting from him- the feeling of missing him, though you know you will see him again. He smiles at you with the same dimpled grin he always gives when looking at you- waving goodbye, you trying to decipher these feelings you’ve never felt before.

The persistent thoughts soon leave, especially when greeted at work with the panic of finding out the contract has yet to be approved for the Jeons and the Jungs to open the new bakery together.

“I thought Taehyung said it would be taken care of?” Your eyes are frantic while you search LenLen’s- her hand running through her hair to then pressing her fingertips to her lips.

“He handed me the documents to give to Yoongi to sign for the approval. I don’t- I don’t understand how it wouldn’t have gotten signed- I highlighted the words for an immediate agreement.”

The tension you bury from the knowledge of LenLen and Yoongi’s relationship makes you think he would have gotten the papers considering it was a love interest who delivered them to him. Shaking your head, you briskly walk to his office, him immediately standing to his feet- numerous folders holding documents crowd his desk, “Hello, Mr. Min, I gather you’re doing well?”

His brown eyes seem alarmed, his shoulders tensing in your presence from the way you hold your stance, “Why, yes, yes I am,”

“And I’m assuming you know why I’m here?”

“Word- word gets around,”

“Mhm, I see,” you nod, though you refuse to cower, “So, did you or did you not receive a document regarding the franchise of the Jeons and the Jungs?”

When an ‘oh’ falls on his lips, his eyes enlarge in confusion which you can’t help, but furrow your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his expression, “Mr. Min?”

“I thought- I thought you were referring to the coffee stain in the break room,”

You wish you could feel a hint of laughter upon this misunderstanding, but instead, you clear your throat while you wave away the reply, “No, Mr. Min, I am addressing the documents of approval in order for the Jeons and the Jungs to be able to open up the new bakery on the other side of town. Now, it has come to my attention that LenLen brought you the documents to sign?”

“Not-not to my knowledge,” he stammers, scratching at the back of his neck while sweat beads form along his forehead. In the end, the discussion results in Taehyung’s office, him harshly accusing the ordeal to be your fault, though you callously want to reveal LenLen and Yoongi’s affair being you have a theory as to why he wasn’t aware of the document. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to do it. Ultimately, you hope everything will get taken care of with the promise that it won’t happen again, LenLen texting you an apology for not double checking on whether Yoongi received the papers or not.

When faced with Seokjin, who continues to ask you for updates, just to be let down again- you can’t help the frustration building to the point you want to explode. It’s when the next day comes, and lunch break finally rolls around, that there’s only one person you want to see. Sending a quick text, Namjoon meets you at a local restaurant, one he happens to pick out, the sight of him bringing a breath of fresh air you desperately needed.

Just a dull, thin sweatshirt and jeans, yet he shines more than anyone else bustling on the streets. When the waitress seats both of you- each ordering- Namjoon makes a joke on if you’d want wine, of course, you wanting to object since you are working today, yet he teases the thought of you needing to break a rule already.

“You are just out to get me, aren’t you?” You say between slurps of your noodles.

“The day that I’m not is the day you should be worried,” he counters with a side grin poised upon his thick lips. Sitting back, he moves his sleeves to rest mid-arm while he continues to watch you.

“Worried? I think I’d throw a party,”

“What?” He gapes, “A party without the main attraction?” He jabs a thumb at himself, “We will see how many will even show up,”

“Must you always have the last word?”

You’re grateful he was able to join you for lunch, especially when he listens to your vague rant on the stress your job holds, walking with you to the elevator of your work building before the two of you part ways. When night comes, you clocking out to head to the bus station, you make your way out into the warm breeze, when the figure of a familiar face nearly knocks you off your feet, yet you stand firm, swallowing the lump in your throat until his steps halt before you.

“[Y/N],” Jimin’s eyes hold worry while he stares into your hardened gaze.

“Jimin,” you grit your teeth, biting back the foul words wanting to tumble off your tongue. You’re not surprised when he asks why you haven’t returned his calls, because, with every message he sends, you delete it, refusing to let him get to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we- can we go somewhere with fewer people?” He pleads which you directly decline. Initiating an argument, both of you are unaware of the gathering audience, standing behind the glass doors, watching the flustered pair of you whispering frustrations that sail off with the wind. LenLen and Shai happens to be two witnesses, joining them Namjoon, whose heart nearly breaks from the man, he can tell, will not leave your side unless you comply.

The rage is unsettling, especially with the way he sees you trying to break free from the man’s grip- prompting Namjoon to come to your rescue, wrapping his arm around you to free you from Jimin’s relentless remarks.

“What- what are you doing?” You whisper in surprise, swiping your hair from your vision while your widened eyes sweep along Namjoon’s unreadable face.

“I’m your boyfriend, okay? Act natural,”

You can hardly process what he’s trying to do, especially when Jimin becomes an object in the path causing you and Namjoon to pause in place.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jimin gestures a stiff digit toward Namjoon, whose jaw clenches in return, “Who is this?”

“I- uh- I- yes, I-” You stutter, uncertain on if you even heard Namjoon right to begin with. Did he just call himself your boyfriend? And, how come that sounds like such wonderful music to your ears?

“Pretty sure that’s my question to ask,”

Jimin’s taken aback, waving off Namjoon’s statement as if it’s useless, “I’m [Y/N]’s boyfriend, so, therefore, it’s my right to ask, you bastard,”

“Mm, is that so?” The tension is smothering especially when Namjoon takes a small step forward, his arm guarding you while he holds an angered glance- not breaking eye contact with Jimin whose shoulders slump with the slightest fear he doesn’t want to show. “If I were you, I would fuck off,”

“Excuse me? What the hell did you just say?”

“I said to fuck. Off,” Namjoon’s voice is thick with vile, your hand tightening around his wrist while you gulp over the pounding of your heart.

“Who are you telling to-”

“Unless you want to be reported to the cops for harassment, I would advise you to walk away,” it doesn’t take but a millisecond for Namjoon to slip out his phone, immediately calling his sister, unbeknownst to you and Jimin, Monnie’s voice in a panic when Namjoon continues talking over her as if he is speaking to the authorities. Jimin, reluctantly, scampers off- Namjoon repudiating to leave your side when you lower your glance, gradually walking in the direction of your home.

“Hey…” His voice is soft after a few minutes of silence- you’re so lost in your thoughts, it’s hard to distinguish the fog wanting to encompass your mind. When you don’t hear him at first, he merely pauses, placing his fingers underneath your chin in a manner to get you to face him. Meeting his eyes, there’s a concern there that you’ve never seen a man hold for you, and it takes you a second to fully understand it. “Talk to me,” he murmurs- his frame so close to colliding with yours in a warm embrace, you nearly give in.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to look away, but Namjoon tilts his head until your eyes meet again,

“Why are you sorry, [Y/N]? There is not a thing you have done wrong here,”

You sigh in exhaustion, wishing nothing more than to slip underneath your covers where you long for Namjoon to hold you, though you continuously deny it.

“[Y/N],” the way he says your name in such an eloquent whisper brings you to hushed tears, “I don’t think you realize how lucky you are. You could have married the man for the rest of your life, but you didn’t,”

Never thinking of it in that way, relief floods your senses when Namjoon reminds you that indeed, you are lucky, “Maybe, I shouldn’t have such bad taste in men,” you mutter, him chuckling at you before ghosting his fingers from your chin, giving you space enough to back away.

“Monnie and I have been saying the same exact thing for years, it’s about time you join our side,”

You nudge his arm with your knuckles while you glimpse at him with a hearty smirk, “Why do you make everything so much better?”

“Because I’m the best,”

His gloating is typical Namjoon- humorous, yet charming- causing contagious laughter the rest of the walk, leaving your heart with the subtle longing even when his presence leaves to return to his own home- you wishing nothing more than to follow him instead. Because for once, after years and years of knowing him, you ponder: he always finds a way to make your world brighter, even if he is nearly falling apart- it’s you who in return molds the halves of his heart together- signifying that there is something special – something that flickers the hope that maybe you do have feelings for him you have yet to admit.

It’s the meeting your work holds that ends with Shai timidly glimpsing at you here and there; your shoulders tensing especially with the rumored whispers of theories as to what was witnessed from the previous night with Jimin. Scattering bodies heading in different directions to their office leaves a lingering Shai behind in your presence, still feeling her stare while you compile your things to carry,

“Shai, I appreciate the recognition of the makeup I actually put on today, but is there a reason why you’re acting strange?”

Caught off guard, her mouth becomes agape, her cheeks reddening while she keeps her eyes panning the table, “I just have a question, um, so you know the man from last night?”

“Yeah?” You drag out the word slowly, shoulders rigid as you’re uncertain as to which man she could be referring to.

“Not-not your ex, but-but the tall one,”

Nodding, you bite the corner of your lip, urging her to continue whatever point she’s trying to make,

“Are you interested in him?”

The question hasn’t been asked of you, though you’ve realized you have spent a lot of time with Namjoon ever since his return from America. Why you feel so cornered, you can’t quite pinpoint? Because is it wrong to say no when in fact, it’s possible?

“Well, if not, it’s okay for me to, you know, ask him out, right?” She proceeds to ask if he’s single- waiting for your confirmation as if that’s information you would happen to know. She offers to help carry your things to your office once you answer her question with a terse nod- giving her permission to talk to Namjoon, though it’s not really your place.

As if the day couldn’t get any ‘worse’, or in a better term, ‘annoying’, Taehyung invites the staff to another luncheon, this time involving alcoholic beverages, him getting tipsy enough to subtly make a rude joke toward you. Though you’ve grown used to him over the years, you’ve learned how to tolerate him despite the gossip from the women of the workplace who deem you his favorite due to the fact you handle his demises. After the gathering ends, he proceeds to invite everyone to a karaoke bar not far away- all the women making excuses, in which you make mention you have a lot of work to finish.

“It’s not like you have a man waiting on you at home, come on, let’s go,” he counters- Shai standing beside him helpless while she watches your expression harden in offense.

“I’m pretty sure I never refused to go even when I was in a relationship,” you retort, rendering him speechless, leading him to shove his hands in his pockets out of discomfort. Prancing away with your head held high, you stop to purchase a few of your favorite beers before entering the work building. Stunned the moment you recognize the slim legs of Namjoon who you figure has gotten out of work late.

“Namjoon? It’s late, what are you still doing here?” The happiness exuberating from your smile flickers a hope you can’t bring yourself to ignore.

“Boss had me doing a few extra things, but what are you doing back at the office? Isn’t today your half day?”

“Ah,” you shake your head, “I know, but I still have a few notes I must finish. Also, times I need to schedule to evaluate more bakeries… Are you doing anything later?” Wanting to be in his company is the first thing on your mind, yet your face falls in disappointment when he mentions he has plans.

“Yeah, actually I’m going to the club tonight. Seokjin called asking if I’d like to go with him and Hoseok,”

Curse you, Seokjin, you cringe mentally, but you put on your best smile in an effort to hide the pathetic hope you can’t believe you’re feeling.

“Oh, I see, planning to pick up a few ladies?” You say the word as if it’s a song, though you want to regurgitate at even saying out loud. Shrugging his shoulders, a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth,

“I have plenty of those, so no,”

In your mind, you know it’s just a light-hearted joke, so why does it hurt to think of him with another woman? Fresh out of a relationship, and yet, you’re upset about a childhood friend wanting to mingle with women with the possibility of finding the one, he will marry. When his phone begins to ring, he gives you an apologetic glance which you return with a nod of understanding, Parting ways, he stares after you while you power walk to the elevator, him unaware of your eyes turning to stare at his back while he heads out of the building.

When in the realm of safety, called your office, you switch on music from your favorite KPOP band letting the music flow through the room. A buzz forms after you gulp the first beer, swaying your body with the music. Namjoon, can’t bring himself to leave, and last minute, he texts your brother and Hoseok, canceling for the evening, not revealing the reason out loud that his heart wants to be planted right next to yours.

The elevator seems to be against him, especially with how slow it rises to your floor, him exiting the moment the doors open. Rounding a corner, his eyes scan the glass windows until he sees your silhouette- twirling around the room, flipping your hair from side to side, completely lost in your own little world- oblivious to the now smiling Namjoon whose heart dances with joy overcoming his countenance at seeing you frolic among the room.  

There’s the woman he’s fallen so deeply in love with, and there’s the woman, he one-day hopes, he will hold in his arms for the rest of his life. Besides, one would find it blatantly obvious, as an outsider looking in, especially with the shiny smile plastered upon Namjoon’s face that he is irrevocably entranced by the soul, being you, dancing from side to side unaware to his presence outside your office walls. There is no one like you- there has never been anyone like you in his eyes- someone who he’s secretly admired from afar for all these years but remains to bury his feelings for the fear of what you would say. What your family would say. What his sister would say.

While you continue sashaying to the rhythm of the song echoing in your office, Namjoon disappears out of sight from the glass windows to dial your number. When the screen lights up with his name, you have the inkling to answer, but deciding to ignore it, you whirl around to sway your hips to the beat wondering why he would be calling with the supposed plans he has with your brother. It doesn’t take but a second before you hear a voice overpower the pounding music,

“Why aren’t you taking my call?”

Your heart, as if on cue, thrums whilst a look of shock overwhelms your expression, prompting you to hide at first in embarrassment before rising gradually to face Namjoon who is stifling a laugh while waving slowly to greet you.

“Kim Namjoon! What the hell are you doing here?” You simulate as though you’re annoyed, but the joy of his arrival isn’t something you necessarily want to admit, for you too, have the uncertainty on how to explain the way he’s stirring such feelings you’ve never considered before. With his sly smile, he repeats the question that interrupted your distraction from “work”, but you won’t let him win this argument that easily, “Excuse me, sir, I was working until you decided to intrude on my vibe,”

“Vibe? Is that what the cool kids are saying these days?”

The offensive gape you glare amuses him that you can’t help but boop his smirk with your fingertips- chasing him down with the threat of catching him, yet he zigs zags through your office effortlessly without even an ounce of exhaustion. When the unexpected arrival of a drunken Shai echoes within the hallways, the panic that overwhelms you is enough to shove Namjoon to hide behind one of the bookcases aligning the wall far enough to where Shai may not notice. Namjoon, who is unaware of Shai’s attraction to him, you suppress the thought while you usher her to take a seat, swiping her hair out of her face while tears stream down her cheeks,

“Shai? What’s going on?” When you remember Taehyung, along with Min Yoongi, and other coworkers had an alcoholic planned evening, your heart pangs with guilt for leaving Shai alone. She silences the moment she recognizes the knowledge behind your almond eyes, “It’s Taehyung, isn’t it?”

She nods quickly, keeping her head lowered, fiddling her fingers while her hazy eyes sweep along her tense lap, “He wouldn’t stop talking about my sister and how she broke his heart,”

“Damnit,” you whisper, knowing very well Namjoon is uninformed of the mean words Taehyung flaunts toward you every now and then due to his personal pent up anger. Though you decided not to attend the event tonight, you highly regret having Shai fend for herself. “Shai, I’m so sorry,”

“It’s not like anyone will stand up to him. He literally insults you about your break up with Jimin all the time, yet you let him,” you know she’s intoxicated, especially with the way her words slur, but despite her state of mind, you know what she’s saying is right. Namjoon’s chest fumes with anger at what he’s hearing- wishing nothing more than to approach your boss with the sheer intention of slamming his knuckles into his face; but, for the sake of your job, he knows you may be angry with him if he were to jeopardize that. “And,” Shai presses her fingers to her forehead, “LenLen apparently couldn’t come pick me up because she had some business to attend to. I asked Yoongi about it, but he was no use,”

“Yoongi?” From the way Shai talks, it seems as if she is aware about the relationship you accidentally stumbled upon. When she slowly meets your gaze, her eyes scream that she may have said too much, but you politely urge her to continue, “Yoongi would know about LenLen’s whereabouts?”

“Shit,” Shai sighs, “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,”

“Anyone what?”

It’s a strange way that she changes the subject, bringing up Jimin which you are not happy about, leading you to stand to your feet while frantically ushering her out of your office, “I know you were in love with him,” she whines, “So why do you let Taehyung make fun of you for it when my sister dumped him-”

“Let’s be clear,” your hands squeeze her shoulders, “I was not in love with Jimin,”

The tension that had consumed Namjoon’s shoulders from the mention of your ex-boyfriend’s name eases into relief at your words. The hope he has to one day tell you how he feels finally comes into view, which he dismisses for now. Once you finally force her into a taxi, her mumbling her adoration for you-you jog with as much speed that you can gather, return to your office to unlock Namjoon from the trap you didn’t mean to set. He watches you from the window at how adorable you look running across the parking lot- all with the excitement of returning to his rescue- he can’t help himself but throw subtle teases at you for ‘taking so long’ which you reiterate with comments saying ‘well if I would have known you were going to be that way, I would have strolled with the speed of a snail.’

He walks you home as he normally does, refusing to let you be alone at night. He can’t help but bring up the conversation he overheard about the knowledge of your coworkers.

“LenLen doesn’t know that I know,” you confess, running a cold hand through your hair. You cuddle further into your trench coat, wishing the breeze would bring warmth to your aching frame. “In the end, I don’t care if they’re dating, it’s just if the company were to find out, it may not end well for either of them,”

“Yet,” Namjoon tilts his head while his eyebrows furrow, “Taehyung can harass women on multiple occasions and get away with it?”

A sigh of shame escapes past your pouting lips, shaking your head at the truth you wish wasn’t real, but it very much is, and without realizing, you inch closer to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours, bringing a coziness you’ve needed. “He hasn’t touched anyone inappropriately whatsoever; he just has a mouth he can’t control when he’s angry,”

“Still doesn’t make it right,”

“I know,” you wince knowing that not any excuse will make this situation any better.

“I can call and file a complaint. I’m pretty sure it’s anonymous,”

“No!” You gasp, lowering your voice once you realize the volume you held for that split second, “I can- I can handle this on my own,”

“If that’s the case, then how long has this been going on?”

Pausing, you don’t really want to answer because you know how protective Namjoon can be- you’ve seen it with his sister, and with how he became at the presence of Jimin- you will not be surprised if his protective instincts arise if you were to admit it. Instead, you mildly change the subject, “I just- I tolerate it okay? And this whole ordeal at work has been strange anyway. With Yoongi and LenLen dating and not completing documents that Yoongi needed to sign- to the moth infestation at JiWoo’s Café. It just- it reminds me of the time a few years ago when Jeon’s Bakery went through similar instances… Taehyung almost lost his mind to the point he nearly fired the whole staff,”

“I remember Monnie telling me about it. She said she’s never seen you so stressed out in her life,”

“Yeah,” your laugh is breathy, but in an exasperated sense while you shake your head at the memory you have tried to forget about, “the Jeons’ nearly lost their business, but I refused to let it happen.”

“Did you ever consider foul play?”

The thought hadn’t necessarily occurred to you, it’s been years since everything happened, but the survival of Jeon’s Bakery thankfully lives on. When the conversation dies, leaving minds fogged with deep thoughts is the moment you realize you’re nearing your home- Namjoon respecting the fact of not pressing the subjects any further. Freshening up for the evening, the gentle recall of his face smears your mind while you press a plush towel to dry your face; you reach for your phone almost instantly to wish him a good night. If only you could see how giddy he becomes at receiving your message, cuddling into his covers with nothing but the anticipation of getting to see you the next day.

And, if only, he could tell you that.

The following morning, he arises in preparation for work, leaving his apartment to find his sister doing the same, “What are you doing up so early, you ham?”

With a swift roll of the eyes, he waltzes to her side, joining her with the offer of dropping her off at her job, “What do you think? I’m not dressed to impress for the hell of it,”

Eyeballing him, she punches his arm while he fakes pain, Monnie knowing good and well, her punch didn’t have as much impact as it could, “Watch your tone with me, Peasant.” Stepping into his car, she buckles into the passenger side, making herself comfortable before speaking up once more, “Besides, I’m surprised you’re even capable of awakening at such an ungodly hour. Didn’t you just party the night before?”

“Is that what you think I’ve been up to? Since when has your brother been deemed a slacker?”

“Oh, are you really gonna go there?”

The bickering transitions to the mention of Namjoon hardly ever being at home, which Monnie ponders the question on why he can’t just live with her, being the two can save on rent, “Can’t you just respect my privacy?”

Suspicion crosses his sister’s sneer while she raises an eyebrow, “Privacy. Since when does one avoid his sister like the plague without a reason to claim why they need privacy?” You appear on his mind because when is there a time that you’re not on Namjoon’s mind? A tender smile tugs at the corner of his lips which Monnie observes almost immediately, “There’s a girl isn’t there?”

“Which one?”

Grasping Namjoon’s earlobe, Monnie pulls at it, causing Namjoon to panic, “I’m driving! I am driving!”

“And?” She ultimately lets go, turning to face the windshield while droplets of rain become evident on the glass, “Speaking of a girl, do you know how freaked out I was when you called me pretending to be [Y/N]’s boyfriend? I seriously thought Jimin was going to kick your ass,”

“Hmph,” Namjoon switches his hold on the steering wheel, unintentionally pressing down on the gas pedal, “I’m pretty sure that was the least of my worries,”

“Jimin has a history of self-defense classes, I wouldn’t completely dismiss it,”

‘Yeah, but he doesn’t know what I’d do if it means protecting her,’

“And while we’re on the topic,” Monnie waves a quick index finger, “if you ever bring home a snotty thot, I will suffocate you both with my bare hands,”

Namjoon shakes his head at his relentless sister though he knows she has not an idea of his undying crush on her best friend, “But… What if she’s attractive?”

“Can’t be more attractive than I,” Monnie gloats, tracing a finger to place a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What did you say? I think my ears have gone deaf,”

Monnie captures his earlobe tightly within her grip once again, Namjoon pleading sorry until she lets go, “Mhm, about to mute that mouth of yours while I’m at it,”

Another meeting takes place the second your clicking heels sound within the workplace, you retrieve your notes before taking a seat before Taehyung whose lips close in a firm line. The rest of your coworkers file in, hardly making eye contact, and with this meeting not being on the schedule, you’re anxious to know what caused such a last-minute gathering. When pictures of Jiwoo’s Café appear on the monitor above, your mouth drops while your eyes scan each picture. Water has flooded every inch of the place, ruining some of the storage from what you can tell, and though your eyebrows crease with the thought that maybe pipes have busted- you notice in the corner of the photo that the sink had been left running all night. Worry consumes you, especially with the thought of your brother and Hoseok, whom you know were out clubbing last night without a care in the world.

“It would be one thing if this situation was not preventable,” Taehyung folds his hands before him in an ill manner, “But, clearly, it was. And the food cost on top of the cost to get everything cleaned? We’re talking thousands.”

LenLen doesn’t appear as nervous as she had before which you take a mental note of. With her in charge of the store, shouldn’t she at least show some concern? Taehyung continues with his angered rant, threatening to fire someone as he always likes to do, which you choose to ignore, happy to leave once the meeting is over when LenLen and Shai invite you to join them for lunch.  The conversation about the frustration with Taehyung is vague, but you assure the two that you will get to the bottom of this when you can, though you can’t help but wonder why your brother never contacted you about the scenario. Stepping into the restaurant, you’re taken by surprise when you notice Namjoon, who is sitting across none other than Jung Hoseok, who is leaned forward, pressing Namjoon to set him up with Shai which you are unbeknownst of. When greeting the gentlemen, you decide to not ask Hoseok about the mini flooding being you’re off the clock as well as he. Namjoon and Hoseok stand to their feet, telling all three of you to take a seat. An uneasy feeling settles at the bottom of your stomach, leaving a sour taste in your mouth once you notice Shai timidly flicking glimpses in Namjoon’s direction. And, not making it to your knowledge, Hoseok kicks at Namjoon’s foot under the table with the hopes of him conniving on gaining Shai’s attention.

“So,” Namjoon prepares his noodles with the goal of consuming them, but with Hoseok playing footsies, he decides to break the tension, “Where are you from?”

Shai pauses mid-chew, scouring for a napkin to dab her face, “Are you talking to me?”

She wasn’t the only one who stopped mid-chew at Namjoon’s sudden question- your eyes peering at the overly excited girl with the denial that you’re not sure how you feel about her. LenLen remains quiet- solely concentrating on her bowl of noodles in front of her.

“I’m from the city originally, but now, I reside in Busan of course. Alone,” Cringing at what Shai is trying to hint, you barely notice Hoseok immediately jumping at her answer, though she returns the question to Namjoon, “What about you?”

“Sangdo-dong, but moved to Busan with my family at a young age,” Namjoon’s mouth is full of food at this point, but Hoseok isn’t about to give up,

“I live across town in Busan,” his dimples show with his determined grin, “Alone,”

Choking on some broth you slurped, you bury your mouth into the crook of your arm while Namjoon pats your back in a way to calm you, “You alright, [Y/N]?” Taking a moment to recuperate, you nod toward a concerned Namjoon, clearing your throat in an attempt to suppress the tickle.

It’s later that evening when you approach your brother, anxiety apparent upon his face and frame as he paces back and forth within the living room, “So, do you want to explain what happened at work last night?”

Seokjin huffs, leaning his head back while slamming his eyes shut, “[Y/N], I swear to you, Hoseok and I always do a sweep of the store before leaving. I swear to God the sink was off,”

Crossing your arms, you carefully lean against the wall, not letting Seokjin get off so easily if he’s fibbing, “Were there a lot of dishes or something?”

With wide eyes, Seokjin whips his head to stare at you incredulously, “No, we’re not a restaurant, we’re a café, meaning we serve finger foods and desserts, why the hell would we have a lot of dishes?”

“I don’t know! For all I know, the café was busy yesterday! And we’ve already discussed protocol on storing items properly, so what gives, Jin!?”

“Look, I’m just as mind blown as you are. Also, the flour was stored correctly- Hoseok just didn’t have the balls to admit that he doesn’t know how they got moved,” Seokjin’s confession does pang surprise, your hands folding across your chest while trying to make sense of it, “I actually googled if there was a horror story that happened at JiWoo’s Café because how else can I explain to corporate about the sink randomly turning on in the middle of the night?”

Your fingers press against your lips that are pursed in concentration, “Because it didn’t,” you murmur.

The ring of the doorbell jolts you and Seokjin out of your conversation, him sharing a look with you before prodding to the guest bedroom. Overall, you know corporate is going to take care of the water issue regardless, so ultimately there isn’t much to worry about, but the gnawing feeling that something just doesn’t sit right with you seems to bring your suspicions back to light.

Upon opening the door, your eyes widen in sheer incredulity at a nervous Jimin, dressed in a snug tuxedo, who’s lips are quivering with what to say.

“What the hell are you doing here!?” Teeth clenched from the anger boiling within your system, Jimin’s eyes widen with panic as he raises a hand as if to stop you.

“Please [Y/N], hear me out,”

“Hear what out? Clearly, you do not understand the process of a breakup, do you?”

“Listen, just give me a chance to take you to dinner. Let me explain myself-”

“Good night,” his hand stops the door from shutting and with the strength you know he holds, you no longer feel the need to fight; and from the desperate way his eyes flicker between yours, the seriousness behind them unwillingly convinces you to join him, “I just want to make things right, again, just-just please,” Maybe for once he will indeed explain himself; maybe even apologize for making you feel so low all because of a long distance relationship he refused to try; or, maybe he will admit to cheating on you, although you’re highly confident he had been with how fast he seemed to move on. Lost in thoughts, the sight of a familiar restaurant peeks into view, your mouth falling open while your eyes widen disbelievingly.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you mouth, turning to face Jimin who’s eyes sweep outside the car and back,

“What? Do you not like it here?”

It’s not just a restaurant you know all too well; it’s the restaurant- the one specifically raising the memory of a tattered bra, red lipstick and black stocking used to the advantage of Jimin’s second breakup, “Have you been here before?”  It’s a trick question, one Jimin does not seem to pick up on, but he’s smart enough to not answer you with his most recent event regarding this restaurant.

“Yeah, with coworkers forever ago. The food here is pretty decent, but, I-I, we can go somewhere else if you’d li-”

“It’s whatever,” Fumbling with unbuckling your seatbelt, the anger is burning hot upon your chest- you could scream, you could cry, you could pull your own hair out with how inconsiderate a man can be. Bringing an ex-girlfriend to the same restaurant he recently brought another woman- how is that okay? Evidence continues to pile, especially when the waiter greets with a ‘Welcome back’, one Jimin awkwardly dismisses.

“Forever ago, huh?” Gulping, Jimin steps ahead of you while you follow him to the numerous tables- you precisely pick out the table Jimin had sat with the last woman a week ago, you ask the waiter if that’s okay which he nods. Settling down, you fold your arms across your chest once you hang your purse on the back of your chair- Jimin scrambling to unfold the menu which covers half of his face.

“Everything sounds good tonight. I wonder what we should order,” Jimin purposely keeps his attention on the menu to avoid the daggers you’re glaring into his skull. Tilting your head, you set your jaw, tightening your already folded arms in irritation,

“Cut to the chase, Jimin. Why did you come to my house? Aren’t you leaving for Seoul soon?”

His fingers grip tighter onto the menu, his eyes peek nervously at you before wetting his lips, “Uh, can we, uh, order first?”

“Okay then,” you lean forward, clasping your fingers together, eyes refusing to leave his tense frame, “Let’s have what you’ve ordered recently,”

“I-I haven’t been here recently,” Jimin still scanning the menu- the screech of your chair surprises him to the point the menu falls from his hands, you hovering above him with a taunting sneer, “I’m going to use the restroom,” Any excuse that leads you to dial your best friend’s phone number is the ultimate excuse. The moment you hear Monnie’s voice over the line, it soothes you enough while you force a long sigh,

“Are you kidding me right now? Jimin showed up again?” The muffled sound of a car is heard over the line which you assume to be a taxi, except it’s not a taxi, it’s Namjoon, who’s ears tune in when he overhears Jimin’s name.

“You won’t even believe where we are right now,”

“What I don’t understand is why you’re even wasting your time with him. Have you ordered wine yet?”

“…No?”

“Water will have to do. Pour it over his head and leave!” Namjoon’s smirk is hidden in the evening, Monica’s attention remaining ahead of her where the streetlights glisten beneath the moon, it’s what she says next, that nearly shatters Namjoon’s heart to smithereens, “Wait a minute, what did you just say? You’ll see how it goes? [Y/N], whatever he has to say is bull shit. Do you plan on seeing him again?” Eventually hanging up the phone, Namjoon’s knuckles are white from the grip upon the steering wheel, Monnie rambling about the news she has just received, “Jimin showed up again, I swear he needs to let her go,”

“Does she not see what he’s trying to do? Why does she keep giving in to him?” Jutting his jaw, his eyebrows furrow, his concentration on the road becoming hard with the irritation he withholds.

“Well, it’s not like she can help it. The asshole keeps showing up without her permission,”

“She just needs to learn to stand up for herself. She just lets men walk all over her like it’s nothing,”

“Calm down, Joon, I’m sure she’s not going to give him another chance,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Confused, she turns to face her brother, wondering why he’s getting so worked up over her best friend- though she wants to ask out loud, she decides against it, more worried about their safety with him driving more than anything.

Pained silence still has a hold at the dinner table, the waiter placing you and Jimin’s meals before each of you, yet your stiff digits can’t even fold suitably around the fork. Instead, you observe Jimin, who clears his throat before taking a sip of his wine- him mirroring the same rigidity. Shaking your head slowly, his shoulders slump, because he knows it’s now or never- and he knows the only reason you’re here is because of the promise of him explaining himself. When a few more minutes pass, the quiet is filled with a clinging fork against his plate before dropping it onto the napkin.

“I turned down the promotion. I’m not leaving Busan,”

“What!?” Gasping, that is the last thing you want to hear, in fact, you stand to your feet, shuffling for Jimin’s phone, “What do you mean you turned them down!? Call them back! Tell them you’re just kidding!”

“[Y/N], I can’t do that right now, they’re closed! Don’t you want to work things out? I thought this would be the best! For me, and for you!”

“Work things out?” Still handing his phone towards him, he stares up at you in apparent shock which shows he did not expect your reaction to be like this, “How come me not leaving Busan was such a sin when we were together? And working things out? You want to work things out in the same place you brought another woman?” Realization dawns his entire expression, his eyes glued to the table while his thick lips poise in surprise before his eyes trail to lock with yours- he’s speechless because he knows he’s been caught, and you’re not done with what you’ve kept buried within your heart, “Oh, what, you gonna press charges against me? Cause if so, I can do more to add to them,” your fingers curl around the shaft of the wine bottle, Jimin throwing his hands up in defense,

“[Y/N]!”

Fingers slipping to return to your side, you attempt to calm yourself for a moment, realizing maybe assault is not such a good idea, “Originally,” you sigh, “I wanted us to be civil. But you’re so deceitful. And,” you throw your purse over your shoulder, “I would take my advice and call your job back. Seoul has plenty of women for you to fish for,”

Stomping out of the restaurant, you’re taken aback when a strong hand whips you around- Jimin’s frantic, yet you stare at him- air escaping your agape mouth into the icy weather.

“It’s not entirely my fault!” His voice raises,

“Excuse me!?”

“Who was that guy you were with the other day?”

“Wow,” you look away, wishing with all your heart Namjoon was by your side, but that’s not something you will reveal, especially not in front of Jimin.

“See!? I’m not the only one who cheated! You were seeing someone else too! Can’t we just say we both are at fault and move past it? Why are you making me the bad guy!?”

“You know what?” You murmur- gathering your bearings, swallowing the lump in your throat while you cuddle more into your coat. He just admitted he cheated on you- something he’s lied about countless times before, and at this point, you’ve been given enough proof. You can’t do this anymore, and the truth is you don’t want to- he’s done enough, and you’ve had enough, “Jimin, it isn’t your fault. It’s mine,”

When his expression softens, he inches forward, but stops abruptly the moment you finish your statement,

“I’m the one to blame for dating you in the first place.”

Crying isn’t something you typically do, not in this case, and the march home seemed much longer than usual. Tossing and turning all night, you force yourself to get ready for work, going through the same routine of taking the bus, heels clicking into the work building to see Hoseok, coffee in hand, conversating with Namjoon along with a smiling Shai while they’re waiting for the elevator to be available. Hoseok must have picked up a temporary job for the time being until his parents’ café is back in business; and, little do you know, Namjoon’s heart still weighs heavy at the knowledge of you being with Jimin last night. He can’t stop himself, continuing to ask Shai questions upon where she resides, her mentioning a pizza place to which they should visit sometime.

Jealousy rears its ugly head when you grimace at Shai asking for Namjoon’s number, Hoseok immediately grabbing her phone to put his first before handing it to Namjoon. Your eyes remain focused on your cellular device the entire time to the point you almost miss Namjoon’s invite to come with them. He’s visibly hurt when you retort that you didn’t hear him, sauntering off the elevator with Shai trailing behind you. Taehyung isn’t in a good mood which you’ve expected, and he sends everyone on a wild goose chase about another bakery that apparently hasn’t been open for a few days, except he asks for LenLen and Yoongi to stay behind- something that catches you off guard. Shoving the questions subconsciously, you and Shai squeeze into one of the vans when the ring of her phone causes your ears to perk up.

Why are you so angry when you hear Namjoon’s name slip off Shai’s lips? And why do you feel so territorial when it comes to him? Shai cancels plans with him from what you’re gathering, apologizing to him repeatedly. If only you were aware of Hoseok’s ear is pressed to the back of Namjoon’s phone- fussing at him to tell Shai that the two have time this evening to accompany her- Namjoon shrugging off Hoseok’s desperation, wishing he could just be with you instead.

“What happened to the approval that was supposed to be signed?” Taehyung’s eyes steadily observe the employees before him- shoulders tensing while LenLen carefully chews her spoonful of rice. Yoongi raises his head slowly, turning to her with nervous eyes.

“They didn’t make it to Yoongi’s desk,” LenLen’s curt smile could fool anyone, yet she remains unphased, “I’m sorry, Mr. Kim.”

“Is there a reason why they didn’t make it to his desk?”

Yoongi’s heart thuds, wondering if Taehyung is suspicious upon his relationship with LenLen. Never in his life has he been so enchanted by a woman as much as he has her- and, he remembers, despite the confusion, of her saying not to worry about the papers- setting them aside before she distracted him with devious kisses. How he forgot about the documents is something he will take with him to his grave, yet he could have sworn they remained on his desk even after she left his office.

“I must have misplaced them,” LenLen’s voice lowers, digging another spoonful of her meal to distract herself from the way Taehyung’s eyes sweep her fidgety fingers.  

Exhaustion seeps through every bit of your limbs- offering to take the van back to work while your coworkers bid you a good night. The moment you park, you’ve fought to keep your eyelids open the entirety of the drive, slumping into your seat before slumber takes over. Namjoon has worked yet another late shift, ambling to his car to notice someone sleeping in one of the company vans. Recognizing it to be you, he watches while you’re leaned against the car door peacefully, mouth slightly ajar, and he longs for a day where he can wake up next to you- your pinned hair frilly from the touch of the pillow, while the bed covers bundle underneath your chin. Just the thought of your almond eyes fluttering to find him- corners crinkling from the smile that will fill your lips.

Waking up, you return loose strands of hair behind your ear before embarrassment knocks on your door at the discovery of Namjoon who is now giggling at your widening eyes. “Oh, no,” you moan, pressing your head onto the steering wheel, the honk of the horn causing Namjoon to lean back. Of course, his presence includes an evening out to dinner, the two of you ordering your meals- holiday lights dazzling outside the tiny restaurant.

Running his chopsticks along his food, Namjoon swallows in frustration at the memory of last night, Monnie later informing him that Jimin isn’t planning on leaving Busan. Wanting to ask you about it, he does- his tone sounding a tad bit harsh compared to what he was intending, “So, I hear that asshole isn’t leaving Busan after all,”

“That asshole?”

“Ah,” Namjoon lays his chopsticks onto the napkin next to his plate, leaning back in his chair, “Am I supposed to be respectful considering the way he treats you? Or the fact that he’s your boyfriend again,”

“What?” You murmur, though it’s hardly audible- your folded arms slipping from the table while you investigate Namjoon’s stern gape. “Is that what Monnie said? That I’m dating him again?”

“Well… No,”

“Okay, then what is the problem? I don’t understand why you just jumped to a conclusion like that,”

“Because maybe you have a hard time telling him to back off,”

“And is that any of your business?” Silence takes hold upon the tension while Namjoon lowers his head, biting the corner of his lip in culpability.

“I just heard about it all last night, okay?”

“Then that’s something you should have approached me about first before accusing that asshole of being my boyfriend,”

Namjoon finds joy in hearing you curse Jimin’s name, but he knows now that he did approach the subject inappropriately, “Hey,” his voice softens, your lips falling in a saddened frown before meeting his eyes, “I’m really sorry for upsetting you,”

Huffing quickly, you nod your forgiveness, Namjoon awkwardly taking a swig of his beer. The sound of water droplets on the rooftop of the joint prompts Namjoon to turn his head to face the window- eyes flickering around the atmosphere while you take in how handsome he is. Gentle brown eyes shiny against his tanned skin, his full lips parted with the amazement of nature outside, while the line of his jaw sends a desire that causes you to look away.

“It’s raining,” he murmurs, “You have an umbrella, right?”

Peering up at him, you shake your head leisurely, cringing when you remember that you left it at home, “It’s okay, I’ll just walk home in the rain. I’m used to it,”

“But why would you do that?”

The comment rolls off your tongue before you can stop yourself, “You upset me so much that maybe I need it to cool me off,” you take a shot of your beer, keeping your eyes peeled in a direction away from Namjoon’s jaw falling open.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“No,” you shrug, pouring some more beer into your glass, a smile of annoyance planted on your face, “I should be apologizing for you missing your date with Shai,”

“I invited you to join. You’ll come, correct?”

“And what makes you think I should? I don’t necessarily feel like being a third wheel,”

A subtle smirk pulls at the corner of Namjoon’s lips because seeing how you’re reacting to the idea of him being with Shai ignites a hope that maybe you do have feelings for him. Something he’s been dying to gain since returning home from America, “Why would you feel like a third wheel? Maybe I wanted you to be my date,”

“Oh, don’t start with your sarcasm. I’ve seen Shai, and you’re not the only guy who goes smitten over her. I get it, she’s pretty, but is appearance all that matters to the male population!? Goodness, men are-”

“You’re prettier,” Mid-sip of your alcohol, you nearly choke, especially when the words leave Namjoon’s mouth, making your heart flutter in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time. He timidly avoids further conversation while you pat at your loose strands, him paying for the meal before the two of you step outside. A storm brewed during the dinner to the point the rain is panging heavier than when it started.

“Shit,” you whisper, dreading the idea of walking in the rain though you made mention of being used to it. Namjoon doesn’t even hesitate, telling you to remain under the awning of the restaurant while he sprints to the nearest convenient shop. You gape after him, tilting your head wondering what he has up his sleeve. The ding of the door alerts the employees of yet another presence, Namjoon’s hands scrambling along the umbrella rack- originally picking out two just to return one to the rack, a tight-lipped grin planted upon his face. Once the purchase has been made, he returns to your side- your eyes showing the confusion that he’s holding only one open umbrella, “Why just one?” You laugh, Namjoon gesturing for you to step closer while he holds the umbrella higher, “Aren’t we going to get soaked?”

Both turning in the direction of your home, it’s unexpected the way Namjoon’s expression glows, “I think I have a way to fix that problem,” his arm drapes around your waist; he pulls you much closer to his side showing a perfect way to prevent rain from drenching the pair of you. You’re astonished, but in the most glorious way, you can even imagine, his warmth smothering your chest with giddiness- rain pouring on all sides, yet the smiles upon both of your faces light the world much brighter than even the orange streetlights decorating the paths.

“Want to call a cab?” He peers down at your tiny frame- something he made a joke about earlier where you fended for yourself claiming you’re of average height. His question stirs a mild panic, because for once, the walk in the rain isn’t so bad, especially with the way Namjoon’s arm remains planted around you, your head cuddling into the side of his chest after both of your steps cease.

“No,” you tenderly reply, “I think I want to keep walking… With you,”

There’s a magic in the air that outsiders could feel even a mile away from the couple embraced underneath the crying night. Even when you make it to your doorstep, Namjoon insists on watching until you’re safely inside- him gifting you the black umbrella that you reluctantly accept, thanking him for the evening. His trip home ponders him to settle onto his bed, gazing at the picture he never deleted from when he first watched you fall asleep.

A misunderstanding does fall into place the next evening- one where Shai receives a text from Namjoon in regards of the pizza plans that happened to be missed the day before. You, being informed of it by Shai, pauses, wondering how such a great night with Namjoon could shatter your heart in just 24 hours of time. Unaware, Namjoon has made plans with your brother, bailing out last minute with Shai who is walking alongside Hoseok- expression falling in disappointment at the knowledge that Namjoon will not be attending the pizza date as she hoped.

“He’s going clubbing,” Hoseok nods swiftly, her giggling that she enjoys clubbing as well in an attempt to win Namjoon’s interest. Namjoon politely declines, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trench coat while he watches Hoseok, who came up with the plan this morning, joyfully dancing by Shai’s side while they disappear farther into the glistening city.

Heartbroken and confused, yet again, you make plans with LenLen who sees you’re not okay- the two of you enjoying your meals despite the hushed banter, “I can tell you still think about Jimin,”

“If I told you that I don’t, you wouldn’t believe me,”

“Maybe you should date around? Live a little,”

The conversation turns into LenLen giving dating advice- saying not to take men seriously- how they most likely flirt with every female in order to keep their options open- you biting your tongue about her secret she still has not an idea that you know about it. Doubting everything that has been happening with Namjoon, now the uncertainty of him having feelings for you plague your thoughts. Were you stupid to fall for another man’s tactics? But you’ve known Namjoon most of your life, and he’s never been one to cause toxicity amongst others, and you’ve always admired his maturity in situations. So, why can’t you come to terms that maybe he’s not like any other guy? But, then again… What if he is?

Namjoon bends onto the pool table while he squints his eyes at the ball, he’s planning on hitting. Seokjin waves the video games Namjoon surprised him with from America, thanking him once again while he awaits his turn.

“You know, I was going to invite you over to visit my parents with me, but apparently, Mom invited [Y/N]’s boyfriend over for dinner. And, of course, I’m aware of Hoseok ditching me for some girl my sister works with,”

Namjoon’s heart falls to his feet while he leans against the pool table, Seokjin’s focus remaining on his pool stick as he jabs it- the clacking of the balls sounding through the ringing in Namjoon’s ears. Jimin. Again?

“Boyfriend?” Namjoon tries to keep his emotions at bay to prevent any suspicion from your brother, straightening his back while his hands grip the wooden stick in frustration.

“Oh, I figured Monica may have mentioned him, but he’s some guy my mom won’t shut up about. He comes from a rich background. I could care less about the bastard, but I would never tell [Y/N] that. You know how she is about reminding us she’s our elder,”

“Yeah…” Namjoon takes his turn, head spinning from the news he’s receiving, “He comes over a lot?”

“Unfortunately,” Seokjin murmurs, “Just glad I’ve moved out with Hoseok so I don’t have to deal with any of it,”

“We can still go by there,” Namjoon says it without thinking, Seokjin nodding in agreement while they finish up their game. Why he feels the urge that you may need him he doesn’t know. Maybe if he sees Jimin in person again, he can feel some type of closure in letting you go. If Jimin is who you want, then maybe you should be with him in the long run.

Waltzing through your door after spending the evening with LenLen, your auditory senses are greeted by the familiar clinking of silverware mingled with the voices of your parents. At first, you assume that they’re talking to each other until a third voice makes an entrance, your body rigid from the rage rising within your chest. You’re relentless as you stomp to the living room- Jimin’s blonde hair glistens beneath the chandelier, while he sits at the table before your parents. He nods at you when your eyes lock, him timidly looking away when he sees the pure anger resonating from your stance. Your mother joyfully sprints to you, shoving you towards your room to change into something ‘better’ as she proclaims- spinning around dramatically to tell Jimin to continue with his meal.

When ten minutes pass, you haven’t budged from where you’re frozen before your mirror, the black umbrella Namjoon had given you just the night before leans against your desk. Your mother doesn’t even bother to knock, carefully shutting the door behind her while you immediately tilt your head up, “Why the hell is Jimin here!?” You raise your voice, her shushing you abruptly as her hands' fan in front of your face.

“First of all, I asked you to get ready! And I don’t understand why you’re being so damn selfish! Jimin is perfect for you in every way, and you should be very grateful to have found a man like him,” at some point, during your mother’s pointless banter, it all goes in one ear and out the other, and the relief of her leaving your room sends a frustrated exhale from your lips. You did all that you could when you were dating Jimin; you’ve even dressed up to the point of winning his affection in the bedroom which failed miserably as you recall the night of the breakup. And, you know what? Why not flaunt yourself like you did that night? You’ll show him. You’ll show all of them who is really missing out on who.

The smear of blood red lipstick decorates your lips while dangling pearl earrings match the lacey dress that now hugs your figure. Cleavage prominent, you swiftly straighten your hair, making the last task on your list to be a fresh pair of stockings- the intent of the article of clothing to remind Jimin of the night he was with another woman- the numerous nights he had been with other women.

Head held high, you gradually step into the living room, your father gulping at the sight of your bold choice of an outfit, while your mother gasps in disgust. Jimin doesn’t know where to look- trying to keep his gaze away from the tops of your bosoms squeezing together in the nicest bra you could find in your closet.

“Well?” You spread your arms while you sway to your side, “Is there a reason why you all seem appalled?” You gloat, “I’m sure I’ve put every woman in Busan to shame with this dress, isn’t that right Jiminie?” you’re acting obnoxiously, yet you don’t care, seductively tilting your head while you glare at the back of Jimin’s head, “Why are you sitting away from me, Honey? Look at me,” when Jimin glances at your wide-eyed parents, he cautiously turns to face you, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “What? Do you not like it?” You bend slightly, showing the size of your ass to remind Jimin of the nights he turned you down, muttering on how your sex life was boring due to the lingerie you refused to buy, “Should I have worn an even tighter dress? How about the stockings? Remind you of anything?”

“[Y/N]!” Your mother snaps, you straighten your frame whilst an exasperated giggle escapes your shiny smile,

“Oh, I forgot my parents were here. Oops,” you slur- your dad gesturing for you to take a seat which you do, Jimin having a hard time processing whatever you are doing. Beer is crowding the table with the many different plates of food your mother prepared, yet you turn to Jimin with a whiny request for wine.

Namjoon rests the side of his head on the window of the passenger’s side while Seokjin keeps his attention on the road, “So, have you been seeing anyone since we’ve been home?” He glimpses over to see his friend- distance in his expression which brings a concern to Seokjin.

“No,” Namjoon says after a moment.

“Okay,” Seokjin says slowly, “What about interest? Anyone, that you’re interested in?” He notices the hint of a smile on Namjoon’s face from the corner of his eyes, “Ah, there’s a smile. So, you do have an interest in someone,”

“You caught me,” Namjoon raises his hands in self-defense, “Ask away,”

“Tell me about her. What’s her name? How old is she? Is she from Busan?”

Namjoon contemplates his answers since he doesn’t want to reveal to Seokjin that it’s you, Seokjin’s sister, that Namjoon is hopelessly in love with, “She’s 28,”

“Dude,” Seokjin is shocked from the obvious tone of his voice, “That’s five years older than you, have you gone mad? That’s our sisters’ age. That’s like you dating my sister,” Namjoon glances at Seokjin while he proclaims on how creepy it is to date an older woman- Namjoon remaining silent for the rest of the drive, pain evident on his face now knowing your brother would disapprove if Namjoon’s feelings for you were to be made known.  

Chugging half of your second beer, since Jimin failed at bringing wine, you wait for the perfect opportunity of Jimin’s lips molding to take a sip of his beer when you face your mother, “So, mom did dad ever cheat on you at any point in your relationship?”

Coughing, Jimin buries his mouth into his hand that curled into a fist, sliding his beer further from him while your mom’s eyebrows furrow at your random question, “No. No, your father’s been faithful. Wh-”

“What would you do if he wasn’t?”

Your father stares at you in distraught, yet he seems to catch where your conversation is headed.

“I’d smack him upside his head-”

Hesitation is not part of your vocabulary in this section of time, for your palm, with all the strength you can muster, slaps the back of Jimin’s head while he cringes beneath your touch. The burn of the hit lingers within your palm, while your parents freeze in realization- your dad raising his voice to ask what you’re trying to get at.

“Wait a minute,” your mother counters, while Jimin rubs the back of his head, “Did you… Were you seeing another woman while courting my daughter?”

Jimin drops his gaze to the table, running the tip of his tongue over his lips in panic.

“I’m- I’m- I don’t know what to say,” your mother says in obvious disappointment. Your father rises slowly while he glowers at Jimin who raises his arm in a plea to your father, but it’s too late, he attacks Jimin, slamming him onto the table while bowls of food hit the floor- your mother getting in between the men while Jimin begs for your father to let him go.

“When is everyone going to start acting like adults in here!?” She bellows whilst scampering for cloths to clean the food stains off your father’s sweater.

“Look,” Jimin’s hands fly before him, “I messed up, okay? But I am not the only one to blame here! [Y/N] cheated, too! She’s seeing someone now!”

“Jimin!”

“Oh, are you going to deny it!? Do you think that it’s simple for me to come here? Your parents practically begged me to-”

“Then why the fuck did you not say no!?” Gasps escape from both of your parents at the choice of words you have chosen. But you are so livid, you could care less. “For heaven fucking sakes, Jimin, where is the respect? If only I had a few more drinks in me, I’d smack the shit out of you even more!”

“You know what?” Jimin clenches his jaw, settling to his knees before you, “Hit me then. Put me out of my misery. Do what you need to feel better, I just want to fix things here.”

“Like you’ve had such luck with patching things up before,” you mutter, “It’s not happening, Jimin,”

“Why?” Jimin taunts, standing back to his feet, “How about you tell your parents why you no longer want to be with me, huh? Who’s the man who told me to fuck off at your work? You dodge the question because you’re just as guilty as I am!”

Crossing your arms, you inch closer, a sneer present on your red lips, “Accusing me makes you feel so much better, doesn’t it,”

“Then why can’t you admit who he is? I’m going out of my mind about it, just fucking tell us already-”

“I like him, okay! But that was after my relationship with you!” Your voice is loud- so loud it carries throughout the house, stunning your parents as well as Jimin as they gape at you, “I really like him, you have an issue with that Jimin? Huh?”

“Oh no,” your mother groans as she collapses on the couch, “No, no, no, no-”

Seokjin bursting through the door makes matters worse to your mother as she clambers to tidy the table with whatever she can salvage while everyone’s attention turns to see not one, but two men, joining everyone in the living room. When Namjoon trails behind a wide-eyed Seokjin- Jimin’s expression shows astonishment as he points a shaky index finger toward Namjoon, whose eyes are too busy looking at the ensemble he has never seen on you before. A look that’s distracting him from the tension smothering the vicinity.

“That’s- that’s him! That’s the guy!” Jimin’s desperate- desperate to clear his name of any negativity, though he truly is the only one at fault for infidelity. Grasping your arm tightly, he drags you an inch forward while you struggle to get out of his grip, “You need to explain to everyone!”

Your parents are jumbled with who Jimin is exclaiming about at first, but when they realize his crazed eyes have yet to leave Namjoon’s, they know exactly who he’s referring to- but, Namjoon is more focused on the tightening grip Jimin has on your arm, Namjoon grits his teeth while he swallows slowly, “Let go of her.” Stepping forward, nobody has time to blink when Namjoon clutches the front of Jimin’s suit, dragging him roughly toward the outside of the house while Seokjin hysterically chases after them. Panicked voices of your parents scream towards what seems to be the start of a feud.

You can’t move. You just remain speechless while your hero intervenes once again. 

[drxwsyni]

Comprehension︱Yandere Shinsou Hitoshi x f!Reader

Anonymous asked: “Could you write a one shot where the reader (female) is mute and gets kidnapped by yandere Shinsō who just thinks the reader is trying to avoid his quirk.”

a/n: *IMPORTANT* So, I had to do quite a lot of research for this oneshot to be medically correct. For the sake of clarity, the reader is depicted with Broca’s Aphasia, a branch of a speech impairment that lets them understand what people are saying to them, but are unable to form a verbal or written response. This can happen due to stroke or injury. I am in no way romanticizing this condition, this is a work of fiction and I don’t believe in these glorifying ideas in real life. Aphasia is a serious medical condition and should be treated as such.

Thank you to @theladyshinigami​ for helping me work out the outline to this oneshot, your assistance is always much appreciated <3

Warnings: mild violence, swearing, mentions of injury, imprisonment, angst, gen. yandere themes

7k words

“The only person getting in your way is yourself.”

A distinctive earthy aroma permeated through the air, the soft pattering of raindrops colliding with the rooftop foundation around him. Perched atop a ledge, overseeing the idle backstreets of the residential area he was appointed to patrol, Shinsou’s eyes landed on a crouched form on the streets below.

The last time he heard your voice was in the final school year before joining UA, the both of you planning on enrolling in the general studies course there. He was paying no mind to your counterargument―one he’d heard plenty of times before. You insisting that he’d become more than what some nonsensical individuals made him out to be, him blowing off the sentiment due to a long established complacency over the occurrence.

He fought with you over it, much to your dismay. In a fit of frustration you stormed off in the opposite direction, leaving him to brew in his displeasing thoughts. Now however, he wished he ran after you. Apologized for acting so insensitive, making a point to thank you for believing in him and lending him advice with only good intentions when others would cower in prejudiced suspicion.

The next morning he went to class as normal, except you weren’t there. The teacher explained you’d moved schools and wouldn’t be returning. He never got to say goodbye, the last interaction with you being one filled with undeserving ignorance against your warmhearted nature.

Now a full fledged pro hero, having trained relentlessly to become everything you sought to bring out in him, Shinsou remained motionless in the steady stream of rain. Not even the darkness of the 2 am night could mask those undeniably identifiable features.

That soft smile gracing your face, gentle and welcoming. He followed your gaze, laughing slightly in disbelief. Not just at how out of nowhere you appeared back in his presence, but at how you’d also managed to find his adventurous outdoor cat.

The two of you were protected from the downpour by a bus stop shelter, the metal frame being overtaken by wildly growing vines. His cat was perched atop the wooden bench, and you’d positioned yourself to be perfectly eye level with the affectionate feline.

If he wasn’t currently experiencing an intense wave of recollection having found that you were alive and well, he might be able to fully appreciate the sight for what it is―heart wrenchingly adorable.

Of course he found his cat cute, but you were on another playing field entirely.

He noted with fondness that at least outwardly, you appeared just as entrancing as the day you left him. With age brought new reasons for him to be enraptured with your being, maturity allowing new, equally soft features to shine through. Although shamelessly taking the time out of these ungodly hours to pet a wandering cat, it showed that you still held that same sense of innocence.

When you were younger, that trait had him deeply worried at times. It left you skittish in the wake of those who took advantage of your unassumingly positive approach to life. Of course he never treated you so wrongly, especially after you’d proved how the functionality of his quirk didn’t phase you.

But he never was there for you as much as you were for him. Shinsou didn’t really bother to ask you just how you were doing, if you were dealing with being treated in such a way all the time. You always made a point in making sure he was okay, but something always held him back from doing the same with you.

It was a level of intimacy he wasn’t quite ready for, no matter how much you conveyed your comfortableness with him.

Does she even remember me?

Giving a final few offers of attention towards the feline, Shinsou watched from his spot on the rooftop as you stretched out to be standing. Your black umbrella, already wet with rainwater from being used just minutes ago, popped open in quick succession. Carefully, so as not to step in the deep puddle of water forming in the indents of the sidewalk, you strided out from underneath the small shelter.

Regret for his past behaviour kept Shinsou at a distance as you turned away. However, the allure of wanting to see just how you’d grown in ways he hadn’t yet observed since he last was graced with your presence kept that distance unchanging.

With each of your steps away, he met with his own advance. Trailing you from the rooftops, Shinsou watched over your form, unconsciously guiding him further into your life. And, as it turns out―your apartment.

Judging the surrounding area, your home was just five blocks from his own. How long had you gone unnoticed, living day to day alongside of him yet somehow still so far apart?

Ever so slightly, he could see your frame shivering from the chill that the rain brought on. He hadn’t acknowledged his own discomfort, being far too occupied with your sudden reappearance. As you let yourself into the complex, Shinsou ran a hand through his damp indigo locks, attempting to ground himself with the information of your existence.

Having nothing of yours left to take in, not unless he wanted to make his own existence known to you, he resigned his duties for the night. With a brief phone call to his agency, the area was kept guarded with a fresh pair of eyes, allowing him to return to the sanctuary of his own home.

His cat was awaiting his return, pawing angrily at the door which was adorned with scratch marks at the base from similar occurrences. He ruffled the fur atop its head, earning a reflexive shake to remove the built up dampness from the cat.

Calloused hands slid a key into place, unlocking and pushing the door open for his pet to enter. It moved past his own advances with disregard for the risk of him tripping over its small body, Shinsou mentally cursing himself for letting the adventurous being out in the first place. But then again, it did allow him the opportunity to see his two favorite girls spending time together―so maybe the disrespectful behaviour could be forgiven.

The warmth that electrical heating provided did not go unappreciated, a stark contrast from the chill of the night air. Yet although the sensation was welcoming and capable of calming his mind, Shinsou could not simply return to the routine of basking in its comfort after a grueling and extensive shift.

You were out there, completely unaware of him―and he didn’t want things to remain that way. Even if he didn’t directly approach you to learn of the ways you’d spent all those years apart from him just yet, Shinsou still had to know more.

_____

You worked at a bar. Fairly low in traffic and on the edge of town, but a decent establishment nonetheless.

Call it impulse, but Shinsou couldn’t contain the urge to distantly concern himself with watching over you as you made the trek to your job. He respected it―the occupation you’d taken up. Although he didn’t observe you in action, he figured you worked as a waitress or something of the sort. The position made good money, and he knew you could fill the requirements with your kind attitude.

However, he wasn’t as fond of the idea that it was likely you’d experienced some unpleasant customers. It comes with that sort of job, and he was all too aware of the defiling thoughts people had, and thus the actions that resulted from them.

That was what got him to swallow any apprehension to meet you face to face. At least if he was in the bar, it’d make it easier to help you if someone came on a little too strongly.

Shinsou reserved the next possible moment to be devoid of any hero work. He sat down in the bar, ordering a drink to stave off the budding anxiety of finally meeting you after such a long time of being apart. He planned to play it off as coincidence―showing up after a long day, and just so happening to stumble into the bar you worked at.

But he never got the chance to. Shinsou could’ve sworn he saw you enter the building, but after sitting in the same spot for three hours, he never laid eyes on you.

So he did the next best thing.

Patiently, he leaned against the rough brick wall outside of the bar. A few moths batted against the artificial lighting above the heavy metal door to the back exit. The spot where he stood was illuminated with an orange glow, dissipating down the alleyway. Impatiently, checked the digital watch on his wrist.

The door’s handle creaked under the influence of someone turning it from the other side. Shinsou’s eyes shot in its direction, widening slightly as he pushed away from the wall.

Slowly, you stepped through the threshold, an exhausted sigh escaping your lips as you nudged your bag up your shoulder.

The moment you met his anticipated gaze, your own expression formed into a content disbelief. The door shut behind you with a thud, you remaining in one place as he made the first move to speak after clearing his throat.

“I, uh...I saw you, yesterday. On patrol―you were walking out of the bar so I assumed you worked here...You remember who I am, right?”

A wave of relief washed over him as you nodded, that oh so gentle and familiar smile enveloping the soft features of your face. You didn’t say anything, and he figured you were just too much in shock to respond.

Shinsou continued, “I ended up joining the hero course at UA―even have my own agency now. You were right about me, those assholes didn’t know what they were talking about.”

A swell of warmth enveloped him being back in your presence, and with being able to regard those kind eyes again, looking proud for his accomplishments.

But you still didn’t respond.

A crease formed between his brows, a once friendly smile faltering in confusion. If you looked so happy for him, why weren’t you talking back?

You always, always responded to him. Even when he was in a sour mood, you stayed consistent in your acceptance that although his quirk could be used for malice, it wasn’t something he’d ever do.

“Y’know, sometimes I get so sick of the way you act―self-deprecating no matter how much I tell you things won’t always be like this. And honestly ‘Toshi, it’s starting to rub off on me a bit!”

The argument was crystal clear in his mind, your words repeating inside his head as if you’d just uttered them in the present moment.

That was impossible though. You hadn’t said a single word, just standing in front of him in silence. He knew you understood what he was saying.

Only one explanation made sense―it was his quirk that was keeping you from talking.

As Shinsou’s expression fell with feelings of betrayal corrupting his previously relieved feelings, the look on your face changed as well. Like you hadn’t realized your mistake, you presented conflictingly.

You looked like you wanted to say something, but no words came out of your mouth. 

The door behind you bust open, a few bar workers spilling out, sporting obnoxiously loud chatter. What appeared to be the ringleader of the group noticed the exchange taking place between the two of you first.

“(Y/n)! This your friend or something?” He slung an arm around your shoulder, the action putting a small grimace on Shinsou’s face. You looked up at the man, nodding while shifting uncomfortable under his weight.

The strangely affectionate worker regarded him, “Nice to meet you, dude! We were just headin’ out for some drinks―you’re more than welcome to join seeing as you’re all buddy buddy with this pretty lady.”

Shinsou gritted his teeth in irritation, feeling majorly uneasy with the developing situation, and with the worker’s behaviour. He didn’t take his eyes off of your shied form as he spoke. “Uh...I don’t really like crowds, sorry. Maybe another time.”

While that wasn’t a lie, his dejection was mostly a result of his stirred up emotions over your uncharacteristic behaviour.

“Uh...Alright then―see you around, man!”

The group dragged you along with them, forcing Shinsou to side step out of the way. As they stumbled out of the alley, he caught the way you looked back over your shoulder. For a brief moment your eyes locked, and he could’ve sworn he saw your mouth open as if to say something―anything.

Still huddled with the other bar workers, you disappeared from his sight as you exited the alleyway.

He stood there, immobilized with a torrent of how’s and what if’s racing through his mind.

“If that’s how you’re gonna act, then whatever. I don’t wanna deal with this right now.”

The sight of you walking away from him was ingrained into his being. Before, with a moment of stubbornness on his part causing him to unintentionally push you away prior to you disappearing completely. And now, as it appeared in how you finally believed his doubtful words all that time ago.

A low rumbling sounded off in the distance, and although the sky was steeped in darkness, the thickening of the air signaled an approaching storm. There was nothing left for him to do, far too riddled with inner turmoil from the meeting that was supposed to be the start of your rekindled relationship together.

Reluctantly, the indigo haired man made his way out of the alley, shoulders slumped with hands stuffed in his pockets. Out of all the people in his life, you were the only person who he was sure of to never lose faith in him.

And yet, it would seem his careless sentiments had more of an effect on you than he once thought. That day must’ve been the nail in your coffin―what he wouldn’t give now to rewind time and make up for those actions that unknowingly influenced you into your current untrusting mindset.

_____

He should’ve taken the encounter for what it was at face value, and subsequently move on before the regret could eat him up. But Shinsou was stubborn, he always had been with you.

It was far too easy to keep tabs on you. He knew you were naive, but never to this degree. And disturbingly so, it wasn’t just your naivety that scared him―it was how much worse you’d gotten since you were younger.

You always tended to let people walk over you, to allow those ill intentioned individuals to prey on your openness and take advantage of the kindness offered without hesitation. He hated that part of you, but still never said anything.

Maybe he should’ve―no, he definitely should’ve.

Aside from going out to work and the unavoidable errands, you were practically a shut in. Those coworkers he watched drag you off to whatever bar they had in mind that night seemed to be your only friends. And really, Shinsou didn’t even think he could call them that.

Not once had he seen them give you a chance to speak your mind. It was always about them, all day every day without fail. Clearly those years the two of you spent apart was used to foster this placid behaviour in you. He was always in suspense, waiting with worried thoughts for the moment when you’d open your mouth and finally put an end to the meaningless rambling of your questionable acquaintances.

And yet no matter how long Shinsou waited, observing you with the eyes of a hawk stalking its prey, the anticipated behaviour never came.

You weren’t quite the same girl he knew back before UA―before out of nowhere you just up and left with zero explanation.

Shinsou watched as you simply existed in the world around you. Ignored and never sought after for your opinion, keeping quiet while others took the spotlight. And you always let them. What was more alarming was the fact that even if those realities were harmless, your newfound behaviour was a cesspool for people with dangerously worse desires than the ones he observed so long ago.

Making sure he took the time to see you to work or as you went home, obviously entirely unbeknownst to you, was practically a mandatory task in his life at this point. It wasn’t his original plan, mostly because of how much it took away from his own work day―but once again, your behaviour had an influencing effect on him.

In passing one night, you nearly let a total stranger follow you home. Shinsou watched in disgust and horror as the man called out to you as you walked by him, spouting indecent nonsense from his foul lips. And you ignored him. Not even so much as a glance in his direction as you scuttled away. The man went after you, and the thought of what might’ve happened to you if Shinsou wasn’t keeping you safe made his stomach churn. 

Sometimes your shifts weren’t consistent, resulting in him not realizing you’d already left, or that it’d be a while until you did―or even if you were leaving at all. But always making sure you were okay was his only option, the alternative something that he feared, and you would too if you’d just be a little more aware of your surroundings.

Although he preferred this routine of overseeing your day to day excursions, it didn’t hide the fact that his once repressed issues were starting to resurface.

Since proving himself to those who only looked down upon him, working hard and becoming a pro, Shinsou stopped experiencing the pain that came with apprehension from others. 

You always did everything in your power to dissuade him from falling for those poisonous words. More often than not, he disregarded you. Now however, he no longer had the same problems of the general population judging him―just you.

He was upset. Angry with how you threw all that hard work and understanding knowledge of his problems to the wind. You were always there for him to be open with, and for what? Now that you were back, was he just supposed to forget about all the times you stayed with him when nobody else would?

Whatever went down in those years apart, it was clear that your final words and his nonchalant attitude left a deeper impression than he thought. You didn’t respond to him. 

You were avoiding his quirk.

But you should know better. Even without his quirk, he was still able to bring forth what he wanted in people. What he desired to know, how he wanted people to behave. No amount of silence could keep you from that reality.

Shinsou was mad at you for how you treated him. Even worse, those hate filled feelings were brewing alongside fear for the way you’d changed. A nasty concoction of emotions, entirely directed at you. Before, it was you who put so much mental energy into the relationship, and now it was his turn. Shinsou didn’t realize how taxing that state of concern could be.

It was his job to make up for lost time and long perceived mixed messages. In doing so he would no longer want to rip his hair out at the thought of you so casually resigning yourself to the deceptive whims of those around you. And hopefully, you would realize your perceptions of him were misplaced. No matter what happened, you wouldn’t be able to avoid this.

He’d give you one last chance though.

Mostly, it was to make sure he hadn’t convinced himself that you were that naive. That what he was seeing day in and day out wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He wanted to make sure that the attachment he never really let go of wasn’t altering his perception of the truth. That maybe you were still the girl he knew back then. 

He must really care about you, as the way he prepared to go about this moral evaluation went against the instincts that were relentlessly beaten into him from training for all those years to become a pro. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but realistically it was a perfect opportunity to show that even if you did resent him for blowing off all the kind sentiments you always offered without fail, at least you would be able to fend for yourself. Maybe if you passed this test he’d be able to get over the fact that you no longer thought he was capable of being good to you, with the ease of mind gained from other promising actions allowing for the energy to move on.

Honestly, he doubted that he would ever completely get over that, but at least with the notion that maybe you weren’t so helpless, he’d be able to return to the life he had before spotting you on that astonishingly coincidental night.

The sight made his blood boil―seeing you cower in fear from the men he’d sent to do his bidding. Knowing it was himself that was to blame for ripping away your sense of safety in the face of such individuals hurt him to no ends. Shinsou had to keep telling himself it was a necessary evil. There was no other way he could go on about his normal life thinking that in such a situation you wouldn’t do a thing to protect yourself.

And so he waited, eyes narrowed and calculating as the low level villains proceeded to back you into a corner. Shouting all the vile things they were going to do to you, laughing as you stumbled backwards with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You didn’t fight back. 

You didn’t call for help. 

Even as your back hit the brick wall, all you did was stand there in pure and unbridled fear, hyperventilating like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Your pursuers were a little confused at the sight too―they must’ve expected even a little resistance. But regardless, they went through with the orders they received anonymously, expecting a sum of cash for their troubles when all was said and done.

Shinsou let the scene play out for as long as possible. The seconds going by felt like hours as he silently begged you to fight back, to prove to him you hadn’t developed into a weak shell of a girl he once knew.

The quick and panicked breathing that was wracking your body got in the way of that. It was the fear that he’d let be inflicted that led you to pass out under the stress of the situation, telling Shinsou all he needed to know for what he was supposed to do with you next.

_____

Shinsou blamed himself for unknowingly convincing you to go against the ideals that you held so strongly before you vanished from his life. Even worse, he blamed you for finally believing his self-doubting words. You took them to heart, something he would’ve never expected you to do.

Mostly, he blames others for trying to take advantage of the person you’d become.

It had pushed him to do things he never wanted to. To put you in situations that you found terrifying, that confused you to no ends. And he knew from the look on your face how you were feeling.

Baffled and betrayed just as much as he was. At least he wasn’t alone in that sense.

Shinsou could admit that he could’ve been a little nicer to you after you woke up, subsequently finding yourself in an environment you’d never seen before. The only thing you recognized was him, but that did little to put you at ease once you realized he was the one to put you through so much distress in the first place.

He tried telling you that you were safe, that everything he’d done was to make sure that there were no other options aside from the current predicament. He told you that he didn’t want to see you so afraid of him, and that you didn’t need to be.

But that didn’t stop the wide eyed look you gave him whenever he came close to you. Shaking like a leaf whenever he was in the room, keeping your gaze fixed on him should he do something horrible. And he would never do something bad to you, so your reactions only made him feel so much worse.

Or at least, he thought he would never do anything to make your feelings toward him all the more apprehensive.

He was just so angry. Shinsou couldn’t get over the way you regarded him. The way you treated him like a villain. Everyone always used to tell him that that’s what he’d become. And you always told him he wouldn’t.

Yet, when he saw your face twisted in anguish for his actions, those kind words left his mind completely.

If he could just get you to say a single word, he would show you he meant no harm. But no matter what―no matter how much he tried to simply talk to you, a response never came.

And so he was always angry. Shinsou tried not to show it, to keep the intrusive thoughts and behaviours to himself. However, even that became a herculean task when you started to show pity for him.

It was the small actions.

You’d pick up after yourself, even when he told you that he’d handle everything. Shinsou would come back after a shift at the end of a particularly stressful day to see that you’d tidied the house, maybe vacuumed the floors, or cleaned the couch from the building cat hair against the fabric of the cushions where the small animal liked to sleep.

Knowing that you still resented him, yet let those complacent features shine through in your circumstances bothered him immensely. He would’ve liked it more if you stayed mad at him, at least then it would’ve shown him you were learning. That his little test of strength had paid off, and you were starting to understand the concept of what it meant to defend yourself. But even while you stayed consistent with the looks of passing despair and confliction, you never once made a move to leave him.

That wasn’t to say you enjoyed remaining chained to a bed at night, or how not once in the past month had you experienced fresh air. It was just that you didn’t ever try for the door, or even a window. Shinsou would know if you did, he cared a lot more about home security than you had after all―but the alarms signalling such an action never went off.

He knew that the main reason for why he kept you with him was because really, he loved you more than he loved any person in his life before. Having you around him constantly was great, even better was the fact that he knew nobody else would have the same opportunity.

The only problem was his guilt, and the way you mindlessly fueled it. That’s what kept him angry.

At himself.

At you.

At everyone.

It was only so long before those wrathful emotions took hold of his common sense.

Generally speaking, the atmosphere was calming. The fireplace was lit in the background, casting a warm hue to the dining room. A storm was beating against the window outside, the noise of the water hitting the glass dulcifying. Shinsou had gone through the trouble of cooking your favorite for dinner, it turning out better than expected. The pleasant aroma was the final touch to stave off rampant nerves, welcoming only thoughts to ease the mind.

But Shinsou’s mind was everything but at ease―you weren’t eating.

The issue was a persisting one. He didn’t know why you were doing it, only that the problem was becoming more of an issue as time went on. You were losing weight, becoming sickly looking. The food was right in front of you, and yet you remained still.

He couldn’t put up with it, breaking the silence that always hung unless he was the one to make noise. “You need to eat something.”

Just barely, you flinched at his words. He didn’t bother coming off soft, knowing he needed the assertiveness if he was ever going to get through to you. Your eyes flitted to meet his, not a second did they remain in place before going back to staring at your lap.

He persisted, “I thought this was your favorite―did you get sick of it after you left?”

The reference to your untimely departure had your brows furrowing slightly, a worried look forming across your face.

A deep sigh escaped Shinsou’s lips, him leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table while regarding you with a stern expression. “I promise I won’t use my quirk on you. I know that’s what you’re worried about, but you don’t need to be.”

Thick silence settled back into the room. He didn’t make a noise for fear of interrupting any potential motivation you might be having to respond. But you stayed still, eyes remaining downcasted. And more importantly―unspeaking.

It was probably a good thing that you weren’t looking at Shinsou, given the heated glare he was sending your way. With each passing second spent without you acknowledging his promise that you’d only heard a thousand times before now, the feeling of intense frustration inside him festered.

Another few moments, then a harsh “Fuck it,” and Shinsou was grabbing both of your plates. He had finished eating, always waiting patiently for you to do the same. It was clear you weren’t going to do so tonight though, and honestly, he was too pissed to even give you the chance to anyway.

He brought them into the kitchen, setting his plate in the sink while retrieving something to put your dinner in, should you be more motivated to eat it later. “You can just...go to your room for the rest of the night.” Shinsou spoke the words with a certain edge to his tone, not even regarding you as he talked over his shoulder. 

Why couldn’t you just do this one little thing for him? It wasn’t hard―the food was good, even if it turned out not to be your favorite anymore. Was it really that difficult to even acknowledge the fact that he put so much work into making sure you were well fed?

The sound of your bare feet padding against the tiled kitchen flooring alerted him to your presence. You stood a few feet away from him, expression looking conflicted and, what he hated the most―pitying.

“I told you to go to your room, unless you’re ready to eat now?”

He watched as your eyes flitted to the dirty dishes, giving him another brief glance before you made your way to the sink. Carefully, you emptied it and began running the water, leaving a finger under the stream to wait for it to heat up.

Shinsou stood frozen, a hand gripping the edge of the counter that had his knuckles turning white.

“You don’t need to do that. Go back to your room.”

You paid no mind to his words, clearly not recognizing them for what they were―a demand.

Seeing this, Shinsou walked over to the sink, leaning over you. “What part of ‘go back to your room’ do you not understand?” He was trying so hard not to raise his voice, yet as he spoke his tone only grew in strength.

Ever so vaguely, you let out a small huff in frustration. You just wanted to help. It was the only thing you could think to do so as not to piss him off. Unfortunately, you didn’t realize that you doing so was exactly what was making him so mad.

And he didn’t realize that you thought you had no other choice.

Shinsou’s hand slammed down on the faucet handle, cutting off the stream and finally raising his voice to let out the pent up anger he’d been suppressing for so long. “So what, first you can’t give me a fucking response and now your straight up ignoring me?!” This time he forcefully moved you from the sink, shoving you away from it. “I try so fucking hard and you can’t even listen to me now?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

The moment the words slipped from his mouth, Shinsou froze in his place. You had stumbled back from the force of his push, now balancing yourself on the counter of an island that rested in the middle of the kitchen. You were looking at him wide-eyed, scared and shaking.

Like you had been when he sent those lowly criminals on you.

Like he was a villain.

“I...I didn’t mean that.”

You were already backing away, retreating like he would try to hurt you again, not only with his words.

His voice was quiet, as if any shift towards further aggression would have you breaking down. But it was too late when the tears were already streaming down your face.

“Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to be like that, I promise. Just―”

You were rushing back to your room before he could finish his sentence. The door slammed shut, him flinching as the loud noise reverberated off the walls of his home. 

Three times now.

Shinsou had the courage to act as a hero, selflessly risking his own well being for the sake of others. He disregarded his feelings to make people he didn’t even know more comfortable, he knew how to de-escalate the tension and troubles of any situation.

And yet, this was the third time he had watched you leave him. The third time he remained in his place as you walked, or in this case, ran away from him. The coward that hid inside him while he remained a pro at work revealed itself in your presence.

He hated himself for it.

But he would fix things. Mend the gap in your relationship that was keeping you from opening up, and keeping him from being there for you when you needed it the most.

_____

Shinsou cursed himself for not doing it sooner.

It would only make sense for him to conduct some form of research on you, seeing as how close he’d made you be with him. He was just so caught up in his own feelings and inner turmoil to take the time to, and now he wishes he’d done it the moment he came back into contact with you.

Looking at the records on file of you nearly made his heart stop. For one, they were extensive, forcing him to spend copious amounts of time just sitting in his study and reading for hours.

The moment you ran off after dinner, he’d locked your bedroom door and left, resolving to find answers. And find them he did. 

In the form of hospital records dating back to the very day you disappeared before high school.

You were in a car accident. The vehicle that had collided with the one your parents were driving hit the side of the car, but only at the back of it―where you were sitting. And it was bad, you had to undergo multiple surgeries to fix the damage inflicted onto your fragile body.

Amongst the repairs, the file of a brain surgery stood out. Along with the records of your rehabilitation, Shinsou learnt everything he needed to know.

You weren’t avoiding his quirk―you physically couldn’t talk.

The accident and the surgery left you unable to, and all this time you were putting up with his incessant encouragement to speak because you couldn’t tell him to stop. You’d left back then because of your inability to communicate like the average person, your parents moving you away for a fresh start―it was easier than having to explain to everyone what had happened. When you were older you moved back, it being the only place you truly were familiar with.

Shinsou connected the dots. Your physical condition and how it affected that of your mental state. Given your limitations, he could understand how you came to be so lenient with the way people treated you. You couldn’t tell them if you were upset, so it must have become easier to just let life have its way with you.

He clutched the stack of files in his hand, pausing outside your bedroom door. Even on his side of the frame, the quiet sniffles escaping your body were all too distinct for him. The sound made his heart clench in anguish, being painfully aware that it was all his doing. And if he had just taken the time to get over his own intrusive thoughts and stopped blaming you for everything, none of this would’ve happened in the first place.

Hesitantly, Shinsou brought his hand up to the door, giving a few knocks against the wood. When he heard the sad sound of your cries being stifled, he fished the keys to the locks from his pocket. Pushing the door open slowly, both as a secondary motion to let you know he was entering, and to use the time to brace himself, he let his eyes fall upon your form.

You had curled up into a ball on the bed, back pressed against the headboard. There was a blanket held tightly in your hands, shielding most of your body from his face. Your eyes met, and despite the dim lighting of the lamp to your right, he could see the puffiness around your eyes.

Shinsou stepped through the threshold of the door, letting it shut behind him. Your eyes remained trained on him as he made his way to the side of the bed you were closest to, sitting down on the edge.

Carefully, he set the stack of papers atop the sheets, sliding them closer towards your shaking body. He waited patiently as you fearfully reached a hand out and took the files from him.

As you opened the yellow folder keeping the documents in place, Shinsou broke the heavy silence.

“I didn’t know. And―I feel like shit for not finding out sooner.”

He had no clue how you’d react, so dreadfully, he kept his gaze on you as your fingers flipped through a few pages. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think―”

What he said now was more important than ever, knowing just how shaken your state must be due to his stupidly impulsive actions. Shinsou paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling before continuing.

“When you refused to respond to me the night I caught you at the bar...I thought it was because you were avoiding my quirk. This whole time―I assumed you’d given up on me after we had that fight, before you left.”

Your lower lip was trembling as he continued, a few voiceless sobs escaping your broken form.

“I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I was just frustrated that you weren’t responding, but that’s not an excuse for the way I acted.”

By now you had abandoned the flimsy records, curling in on yourself as your emotions took over. Shinsou watched as your body convulsed with sobs, listening to the way your breath escaped rapidly, with the typical sound of your voice accompanying the action missing.

He wouldn’t idly sit by as you hurt anymore. That was something he used to do, and look at where it got him.

Removing the folder from your hands and placing it atop the nightstand, Shinsou scooped you up in his arms. He took your place on the bed and sat down with you on his lap. Gently, he held you close to his chest, a hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion as you continued to cry into his shoulder.

“I promise not to ever do something like that again. I know none of this was your fault, and I understand why you behave the way you do now.”

He knew that you’d still fear him after what he’d done, and the fact only made the sinking feeling in his chest worse. It was his fault you were so distraught, he could only assume that you were unable to find any way to tell him what was wrong before. And Shinsou had blamed you for your situation, when really it was out of your control entirely.

Now, he would have to make up for the damage he’d done.

Shinsou wasn’t sure how he was going to go about making amends for the problems he’d created, but one thing was for sure―it was still his job to protect you from yourself. He understood now why you’d grown to be someone who takes things in stride, far too much than one normally should. The way you behaved wasn’t okay, whether you quite realized that fact or not. 

As far as he was concerned, your vulnerability wasn’t to be taken lightly. He’d seen first hand what could happen should he abandon you. 

Letting you leave wasn’t an option.

You needed him, even if it took you a while to understand that. Shinsou knew you would likely continue to resent him for the treatment he’d subjected you to―anyone would. But he could handle it, that was his responsibility after all.

His fonder feelings for you never changed, only growing in passion the more time he spent with you. At this point, he wouldn’t be able to part with you even if you proved you could take care of yourself.

And so he resolved that you would never stray from his side, and he would always be there to take care of you.

Shinsou would’ve said more to you, but in the moment he doubted you would even hear him amidst the distress you were in. The voiceless sobbing continued, and he did his best to calm you, gently rocking you while whispering reassurances through the motions. He didn’t know what you were thinking, and he knew you’d never be able to tell him. 

But actions spoke louder than words, and right now they told him that even just a bit, the way he held you was slowly calming you down with each shaky breath you took. So he didn’t let go, and you didn’t fight him.

In that moment, he knew he’d finally done something right. He was there for you in the way you’d been there for him all those years ago. It was how he wished he’d been when the regret plagued his being at the recollection of you walking away from him.

Shinsou wouldn’t let you walk away anymore. He’d take care of your silent troubles in ways that he knew nobody was doing for you before, in ways that you needed someone to help you with.

He understood what was to be expected of him now, and he would no longer let any self satisfying behaviour get in between the two of you ever again.

[luniellar]

The Union: Chapter One - Sebastian Stan X Chris Evans X Reader

Summary: This fictional story takes place between the three kingdoms that hold great power in the untouchable lands located in Europe. Despite the modern developments in the other countries, these three kingdoms, Callisto, Europa and Io, exist hidden from the rest of the world and embrace the cultural customs shared for centuries from the early human civilizations.

You are the daughter of the Europa Kingdom led by your father, King Jovian. This year you reached the fruitful age of 21, meaning that it’s finally time to fulfill your duty as the princess of Kingdom Europa. The arranged marriage between Kingdom Europa and Kingdom Callisto has been something that your father planned for a long time to finally bring peace between the three kingdoms. Whether you like it or not, you are the key piece to it all. King Stan of Callisto is who you will be sharing the honor of the arranged marriage. He is known by all as a man of savage fighting nature and very few words. You know there is no hope wishing for the passionate love your father and mother shared, but will you be able to bring peace to this land to fulfill your father’s last wishes?  

Link: Prologue | 1 | 

Warnings: Inappropriate languages & minor heated scenes 

Word Count: 2.6K

The dining table was filled to the brim with the fancy reception feast. High level nobles and knights sat around the table as they dug into the feast as if they had been starving for weeks. You and King Stan sat at the head of the table and your father sat by your right hand talking to the other noble men. When you glanced over by the King’s side, there was a handsome male with golden brown hair that reminded you of the warm autumn’s sun. He looked much too young to be the King’s father.

The Callisto’s family tree has been hidden under the table for a while after King Stan took over the land. One rumor said that his father died during one of the many battles, but no one ever heard about his mother. Some said that she passed away when he was young and others spoke of an illegitimate birth. You glanced over at the brown hair smiling lad by the King again. 

Hm…

“How bold,” the King’s velvet voice spoke calmly, startling you. “The queen dares to look at other mates in front of her king already.”

Your face turned red as you quickly darted your eyes from the blonde male and back to your plate. The food was untouched and starting to get cold.

He chuckled, sending shivers down your cold skin. “I can introduce you. He’s a close friend and my right-hand man, Duke Christopher Evans.”

You glanced up and made eye contact with the clear, crystal blue orbs that belonged to Duke Evans. He made a pleasant, genuine smile that lit up his entire face and tipped his head towards your direction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Euro- I mean Queen Callisto.”

You smiled back despite the awkwardness you felt when he spoke your new name. Any small amount of appetite you had left over was lost.

“The pleasure is mine, Duke Evans.”

“Please, call me Chris.”

You were taken back from the friendly nature of the Duke and didn’t know what to reply.

“Oh, uh-”

Before you could finish your sentence the king interrupted. “Aren’t you going to eat at all, my queen?”

You reached out for the brass fork beside the porcelain plate and stabbed a piece of salad through it. You felt the King and the Dukes’ eyes on you as you quietly chewed and placed the fork back down.

“The food must not be to your liking.” The King said out loud causing your father, who was engaged in another heated discussion with one of the nobles, to turn his head.

“My daughter loves all the food prepared at our castle, King Stan.” He replied disapprovingly. Your father took pride in the exceptional quality of food prepared in the Castle Europa kitchen. He even made sure to hand pick each and every staff member who was assigned to the kitchen.

“My apologies, King Jovian. I didn’t mean any harm in my comment. My queen looked like she was having a hard time finishing her meal.” King Stan replied with respect.

Your father cleared his throat which he did often when he disapproved of something. Ignoring the King’s comment, he turned to you. “Daughter, are you alright? Should I ask them to bring you something you would like to eat instead? What would you like?”

You smiled politely and shook your head. “No father, I appreciate your thoughts. My body is just exhausted from the long day, I’m looking forward to resting soon.”

King Stan’s smiling face and amused tone attracted the attention of the few sitting near us. “My queen, I didn’t know you were so eager to share beds.”

You glared up at him and saw a few unfamiliar eyes in your direction who caught his words. Your father’s pale fist around his steak knife caught your eyes. At this rate, there was only going to be one King standing after this dinner and King Stan was the one with a perfect track record. You looked over at Duke Evans who hung his head in shame at his friend’s embarrassing behavior. This dinner was already over.

You stood up from your seat and every pair of eyes around the room looked up including King Stan’s. “Please excuse me while I check on the preparations for my leave. Enjoy your dinner and thank you for coming.”

Whispers drowned behind you as you navigated yourself out of the dining hall. You walked over to the grand lobby and saw the helpers organize the boxes of your belongings for the move to Castle Callisto. You stood in the lobby and your chest felt heavy again.

“It looks like they are almost finished,” the velvet voice echoed behind her.

The tears teased around your eyes and you bit down on your lips hard to the point the taste of iron lingered around your mouth. You were going to make sure the King never saw your tears today. You were the Queen now. The last thing you needed him to think was that you were just another female body he could push around like a lifeless puppet.

He stopped next to you and your shoulder was touching his hard biceps through his commander uniform. You nodded in response without turning to look at him. “I am excited to see the beautiful Castle Callisto, King Stan. I should head back to say farewell to my Father.”

As you were about to head back, his strong grip grabbed your left wrist. His warm touch felt like needles against your cold skin.

“I’ll be waiting outside in the jet. Don’t make me wait too long.”

You wanted to rip your wrists out of his grip and shout profanities for asking you to cut your farewell to your own father short. You let out a soft exhale as you moved your free hand to move his warm hand. Despite the grip, it was fairly easy to move. Your hand felt tiny holding his large, masculine hand.

“Yes, I’ll be quick, my King.”

✧✧✧

You begged your father to continue the dinner instead of coming to say farewell. You knew that your goal of staying tear free this wedding was going to be ruined if you had to formally say goodbye. He then went on cursing about how he was going to kill that boy, but you had to quickly talk him out of that idea.

You looked at the massive Callisto Kingdom private jet that lit up the dark forest surroundings. A loud sigh escaped your lips as you looked behind the great Castle Europa. So many memories that made you into the woman you are today existed in this land. Biting your lips again, you closed your eyes to remember the air, soul, and people this land meant to you.

It was time to say goodbye.

“Goodbye Europa.”

✧✧✧

The jet trip was a little over two hours. Despite the empty seat next to the King, you sat in the row behind him. Surprisingly, he didn’t request you to sit next to him. Across from you was Duke Evans who fell asleep in the plush seat the moment the jet took off.

You stared out at the window the entire ride without a word. You couldn’t tell if the King also fell asleep, but you assumed he did since he also didn’t move a bit for the entire span of the ride like Duke Evans.

When the flight attendants came out from their space at the front of the jet, they announced that we landed in Callisto. You felt anxiety in your heart increase as you got up from your seat. As you were making your way to the aisle, a hot hand gently touched your arm. Unlike the prickly needle sensation from before, the touch was different, it was soft and caring.

The King quickly took off his jacket. In one motion, he wrapped your tiny frame inside the velvet material. You were still wearing your reception gown that was a toned down version of your white crystal wedding gown. It was sleeveless and made out of thin material. You didn’t realize how cold you were until the warmth encompassed your shoulders, arms, and bare back.

“It’s much colder in Callisto,” he said as continued down the aisle towards the exit.

“Thank you,” you managed to get out as you felt his warmth soothe your anxious feelings.

You followed the King and the Duke out of the jet. Like Europa, the landing field was located in the forest for privacy. When you got out, you couldn’t see anything but a large black SUV vehicle that was parked further out.

“Queen Callisto,” Duke Evans said as your feet touched the Callisto land. “Welcome to Callisto. I’ll be driving you and Sebastian back to the Castle.”

✧✧✧

Everything was a blur from the car ride to Castle. King Stan didn’t speak a word. You only captured a quick dark view of the castle as the car circled around through a private entrance and went underground. After what felt like five minutes in the tunnel, the car reached an empty parking garage.

Once the car parked, King Stan got out first and came over to your side to open the door. Half surprised that he still had manners after today, you hesitantly stepped out and looked around the space in curiosity.

“This is the private parking garage that gives you direct access to the King’s Suite.” Duke Evans spoke as if he could read your mind.

You knew that Castle Europa had similar security systems in place, but you never witnessed one in person.

Duke Evans led the way and you followed him and King Stan towards a glass door that led to the elevator. There was only one button that Duke Evans pressed and the elevator doors opened wide.

King Stan stepped inside and you followed. Duke Evans smiled as he waved back to us. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Queen Callisto and Seb. Have a good night.” Then the elevator doors closed.

✧✧✧

Each of the three kingdom’s castles had their own special charm. Castle Europa was unique from the others because it maintained the tradition and legacy of the old castle. They did make modern upgrades like jet landing sites and other security features, but the castle still maintained most of the original state. On the contrary, Castle Io was redesigned from the ground up with the latest security and highest quality materials. You never visited, but your father always made disappointed remarks about how the Io King was eager to tear down centuries of history for an iron fortress full of “useless” technological updates.

When the elevator dinged, the doors opened to a contemporary designed hallway. Black granite floors and gold accents in the wallpaper reminded you of what the penthouse floor of the royal hotel suite would look like. Dim circle warm lights lit the hallway as you quietly followed the King. As you shared the car and elevator ride before and now this hallway, you noticed a unique scent that lingered from him. He had a warm and spicy scent that was a mixture of rum, tobacco, and vanilla.

After a short walk down the hallway, the King stopped at the grandiose tar black wooden doors. There were elegant brass knobs as the handle. He biometrically scanned his hand on a glass panel next to the doors and there was a soft click signaling the doors were unlocked.

“We will make sure to add your biometrics tomorrow for access to my chambers.”

His intoxicating and addicting scent rushed towards you as he opened the doors. Unlike the modern and contemporary design of the hallway outside, most of his room still resembled the King’s chambers that was passed on for centuries. The dark stained wooden floors were covered in ornate deep purple carpets. The same deep purple color saturated the walls and the gold accents looked as if it was etched into the damask pattern like it was some precious fabric. The room was dimly lit with crystal chandeliers around the room.

His overly large four poster bed was stretched out in the middle of the room against the back wall. The rich gold and purple fabric hung from the bed frames.

His velvety whisper from the wedding ceremony played in your mind.

“I will be looking forward to tonight, my queen.”

You glanced around to the king who was starting to remove his formal wedding attire. He expertly removed his commander uniform and dropped it on the purple velvet couch. The numerous amount of medals on his uniform made a soft thud as it landed.

“Aren’t you going to undress?” He asked nonchalantly as he walked to the bathroom.

You froze in place not sure of what to do. You wanted to wash up and go to sleep after a long day like today, but you had no idea where your change of clothes were. Most importantly, the wedding night tradition was just as important as the wedding.

You were going to lose your virginity tonight.

You took off the king’s velvet jacket and placed it on the same couch he dropped his uniform. Unsure of what to do next, you started to make your way to the bathroom. Your heart was racing in your chest as you got closer.

At the same time, the King stepped out of the bathroom and your eyes widened in embarrassment. He was shirtless and was only wearing his black suit pants hanging from his hips. You had never seen a shirtless man before. Well, that wasn’t completely true, you studied Greek and Rome art enough to know what it looked like, but you never saw a live one in person. The only references you had was the Statue of David, but his body was so much more than that. His entire body was covered in muscle and each muscle was tight and hard. There were some faint scars around his body that you could catch in the dim light, but it was still a chiseled, marble perfection.

“Are you done staring?” He asked with an amused voice and you felt your face heat up.

“Oh- um-” You quickly diverted your glance to the carpet as you brought up your hands to the side of your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry- I- I- didn’t mean to stare.”

You heard his footsteps move closer to you until you saw his shoes across from your feet. His hands moved over yours as he brought your face up to meet his. Your eyes searched for his familiar jade orbs and your heart was beating louder against your chest.

His rough lips collided with yours as he kissed you softly, biting at lips. The feeling caused little butterflies in your stomach as you reciprocated the kiss back tasting his lips with your tongue. His warm aroma saturated the air around you. When he felt your tongue, he immediately responded by erasing the space between your bodies and pushing his tongue into your needy mouth. His warm body felt comfortable against your body. He explored your mouth like he did at the wedding, but this time taking the measures to feel and learn every inch. You kissed him back, entering a piece of you into his unfamiliar and enticing territory.

By the time you both pulled away, you were both gasping for air. His forehead gently touched yours as your hands fell from your face. His right hand grabbed your left hand as he brought it up to his lips. He gently kissed your hand and held it in his. The warmth quickly traveled around your body like an infection.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “You have no idea how long I waited for you.”

---

Note: This chapter was getting too long and I had to cut it here. Next up is their first bed night, I promise. Thank you for the likes and comments on the prologue. Please share any feedback with me! Thank you for reading!