#I am going to create an AU that is so far-fetched | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alluringjae · 4 years ago

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until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

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perfectpaperbluebirds · 2 years ago

Text

Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness

@sicktember 2022 Prompt #12

Fandom/OCs: CottageVersity AU / Sick!JB (student years)

Title: I Would Have Stayed Up With You All Night

Words: 1228

Inspiration: Read Thad and JB’s other fic here.

Author’s comments: For whatever reason it took me forever to decide what to do with this prompt until I realized I’d already created a character that canonically has stress induced fevers lol. I didn’t expect to go back to Thad and JB’s university days again, but it is the CottageVersity AU afterall. This is set a few years after their other standalone fic when JB is still in grad school and Thad has just finished.

"JB? Are you here?" Thad called, shutting the door to their shared apartment behind him. "I brought you food."

"Where else would I be?" came the irritable reply from the back bedroom.

Thad rolled his eyes as he kicked off his shoes. "Is that a rhetorical question or do you want me to answer? Guess what, I will anyway. School library, city library, cafeteria, bagel shop, one of your group mates' dorms, or one of the four coffee shops within walking distance come to mind. And those are just places that I know you've studied in the past month. I can add half a dozen more if you want to look at the whole semester. So I think it was a pretty fair question."

"I'm really not in the mood for the smart assery tonight, Thad, so save it," JB snapped.

Thad sighed quietly but didn't push it. He made his way to JB's room with the takeout he'd brought for him, pushing the door open with a little knock.

JB was sitting on the floor with half a dozen books spread around him and looking very frazzled. His hair was a mess, as if he'd run a hand through it many times and the color was high on his cheeks, but his eyes looked tired and red. Thad sat down on the floor across from him and set the styrofoam container down beside him pointedly. JB glanced at at with muttered thanks before returning to what he was writing. Thad didn't move, and sat quietly watching JB study for a bit. JB was agitated, muttering to himself, scratching at his skin, fidgeting with his pencil, writing and erasing over and over. He seemed hardly aware that Thad was there. Suddenly JB spoke, making Thad jump:

"Not nearly enough. I'm so far behind on citing my sources, and I can't get this section to flow properly, and I should have already started on the next bit."

"...huh? What are you talking about?" Thad asked, confused.

JB glared at him. "What do you mean what am I talking about? My thesis. You asked me a question and I answered it."

"I didn't ask you anything about your thesis," Thad said quietly. “I didn’t say anything at all.”

A strange look flitted across JB's face, but he decided not to reply, ducking his head to return to his notebook instead.

"How long did you sleep last night?" Thad asked casually, after letting the quiet linger for a bit.

JB reddened even more. "Three and a half hours," he mumbled.

"That's a nap, JB. That's not sleeping."

JB shrugged, not meeting Thad's eyes. Thad slid around so that he was sitting beside his partner. Reaching up a hand, he gently began to rub JB's sweaty back. JB flinched at the initial touch, but didn't pull away, and in fact moved almost imperceptibly closer.

"You're shivering," Thad said.

JB nodded. Thad fetched him a sweatshirt, then sat down beside him again, returning his hand to JB's back once he had donned the extra layer.

"When did the fever start?" Thad asked softly after another few moments had passed.

"Three or four hours ago is my best guess," came the even softer reply.

"Have you checked it?"

JB shook his head. Without another word, Thad fetched the thermometer from the bathroom. JB knew the drill well, and knew it was futile to argue, so he opened his mouth absently when Thad returned, and held the device in his mouth as he continued to study. Thad grabbed it as soon as it beeped.

"One oh one point eight. Too high for you to be studying. You and I both know you're basically useless with a temp above one oh one."

"This isn't just another exam week, Thad. This is my thesis we're talking about. And I'm so far behind."

"By whose timeline?"

"Mine, of course. The only one that matters."

"I don't want to argue with you. Obviously this is important. But you can't keep working and stressing like this. You'll never survive until the due date. You need to eat and sleep."

JB only shrugged again, and Thad resisted the urge to shove him. He hated shrugging. Gritting his teeth, Thad tried another tack.

"What do I have to do to convince you to go to bed and sleep off that fever? Or at least take a break to eat? Preferably both."

"I dunno, Thad. I want to eat. And rest. But there's too much that needs to be done."

"What's stressing you out the most?"

JB didn't reply and seemed to be casting around for an answer, but Thad noticed his gaze kept hopping to the stack of books piled up on his desk.

"You said you're behind on citing your sources… how many need to be added?"

"Couple dozen," JB mumbled, yawning.

"Then I'll do that. I'll update it for you. As long as you promise to go to sleep, I'll stay up and work on it."

JB was about to protest but Thad cut him off, guessing his arguments perfectly. "It's not cheating. You did all the studying. It's just writing them down in APA format. Tedious busy work. But it needs to be done, and you need to rest. So I'll take care of it. And I'm off tomorrow anyway. You would have done the same for me when I was doing my thesis."

JB visibly relaxed, as if a weight had fallen off his shoulders and a tired smile wobbled its way onto his face. "You are a lifesaver. That is… exactly what I need."

"Good." Thad stood and stretched. "I'll give you five minutes to get to a good stopping point. Then you're going to eat, and then you're going to bed. Shower optional."

"Shower required," JB mumbled. "I feel disgusting."

"You are very sweaty," Thad agreed. "Okay, then food, shower, and sleep in that order."

JB knew when it was useless to argue. This was also the exact sequence of events he desperately wanted and needed, so he went along with the plan gladly. The best part of the evening, though, was after his shower, when he came out to find Thad curled up in his bed, arms open invitingly.

"I'll do the sources tonight, I promise. But not before I make sure you hold up your end of the deal and sleep."

JB crawled into Thad’s arms eagerly. Bone-tired, sick and cold, all he wanted was to be held. Thad hugged him against himself tightly, covering him in tender kisses.

"I'm glad you finally saw reason," Thad murmured. "I was prepared to stay up all night with you if that's what it took to convince you."

"Convince me how?" JB was already nearly asleep, his words slow and slurred, yet Thad could hear a smile in his voice.

"Oh, the usual tactics. Manipulation. Reverse psychology. I probably would've hidden your textbooks at some point." Thad made his voice as soothing as possible, like a lullaby. "But if all else failed, I know your greatest weakness. When you were least expecting it, I would've wrapped you up in my arms just like this and hugged you into submission. There was no way you were going to argue with that."

If JB had heard any of this, he gave no sign, for he was already fast asleep.

#sicktember 2022 #Prompt 12 #CottageVersity AU #sickfic #everyone is hotter with a fever #thad and jb

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xgardensinspace · 3 years ago

Note

Nygmobs- AU 16- Sit 15- Sent 13 pls

Eyyo! Look at me finally finishing up your drabble ;b Which is at...1,300 words so like...is it even a drabble at this point? xD Reading it back now...it could of been more in depth but...OOF! I'm so bad at writing feels xD I hope you still enjoy it!

Ollie's prompt was: AU 16: Stranded on an Island/Stranded. Situation 15: Staying in a cave overnight due to a storm. Sentence 13: “I chose you. I’ll always choose you, no matter who comes in the way. There’s no one else.”

And a reminder to folks that I AM writing and drawing in exchange for donations to Ukraine! More info on the pinned post. I'm writing/drawing for multuple fandoms ;)

Ok ok, here we go! :D

Oswald certainly didn’t think the ending to their ‘perfect’ picnic dinner on the nearby island would involve a heavy rainstorm and a cold cave, but here they both stood; looking out of the cave’s mouth and to the cumbersome raindrops creating boisterous sounds on the sand. He had already apologised to Ed multiple times, but that wasn’t enough to ease his mind about the entire ordeal. He’d rather be found dead on this island than admit the whole plan was orchestrated to impress Ed and make sure that he would stay by his side. And this time, preferably for life.

He’d gotten his limo driver to rent a small boat and take them to said island, but the trip had been overtly humid and he’d hoped the actual meal would make up for the lousy weather. Turns out he should have taken the humidity as a clear sign of eventful rain. They could have turned back before everything even began. And yet.

His driver had been instructed to leave them alone on the island for a couple of hours, and here they stand now… stranded in a cave, drenched and lacking dessert. Everything had gone excellently prior to the storm, and Ed was surely satisfied, but the pouring water came so unexpectedly that it ruined their berry tart to Oswald’s utter dismay. He assumed Ed’s evening had probably been ruined just as much as it had been for him. But the truth was that Ed hadn’t been bothered by the rain at all. Mostly, he’d just been glad and excited that he got to spend a lovely dinner and a bizarre experience with Oswald tonight.

“Out of all the days it could have rained in Gotham, why today?”

“Well,” Ed tried cleaning his glasses with his damp tie, but it proved to do absolutely nothing. “I do think the weather in Gotham tends to be somewhat unpredictable at times.”

“You must think this dinner was just atrocious! Please forgive me, Ed.” Oswald removes and pockets his monocle.

“It’s perfectly fine, Oswald. You can stop apologising now.” He sits down to start removing his shoes.

“But Ed, I had planned this all day yesterday and I just wanted everything to be absolutely ideal.” He removes his gloves and starts to twist and squeeze out the excess water. “I’m just so afraid to-” it slips out.

“...Afraid?”

“I-I didn’t mean that. I…” Oswald shyly places a hand to the side of his face.

“You can tell me, Oswald.” Ed pushes his smeared glasses up to look directly at Oswald’s face.

“It…it’s just that I’m afraid to lose you again.” His voice breaks a little.

“Oh, dear-.”

“I was afraid that if I made a mistake again, another Kringle would show up and take you away.” Oswald turns away from Ed. “Last time I set up a dinner for us…one damned Isabella surely did just that.” He says with a bit of spite at the end of the sentence.

“Oswald, please…we don’t have to bring that back.” He starts to get up; one shoe off.

“But of course we do, Ed!” He looks back at Ed, startling him with the sudden bolt. “It really hurt me, you know? I keep trying to be perfect for you and it just seems that destiny won’t let me have that opportunity.”

“Ozzie, destiny is a bit of a far fetched argument.” He makes his way towards Oswald. “Opportunities like these are random events and occurrences of this nihilistic planet.” Ed notices tears forming in Oswald’s eyes so he tries changing the topic. “We don’t truly have control over the weather, and it just so happens to have caught up with us tonight.”

“But you can’t say the same about Isabella!” He looks away again and folds his arms over his chest. “It’s WAY too specific for someone that looks just like Mrs. Kringle to come into your life out of the blue…after my confession.” Oswald sounds weak, and in pure sadness looks down to avoid Ed’s gaze.

A cold silence falls upon them for a second, as Edward is at a loss of explanations. But finally he musters up the words he’s been looking for all this time.

“Oswald, you shouldn’t reminisce about the past. And if it makes you feel better, my idiotic, repressed emotions are to blame in this situation.” He tries to sound cheery and reaches for the side of Oswald’s arm. “My feelings made me act out and…run away from you.” Ed encourages Oswald to turn and look back at him. “Sure, Isabella’s appearance might have been just like Miss Kringle’s…” They both blink. “Extremely bizarre…but it had to be just as much a coincidence as this rain, right?” He wipes the tear that finally runs down Oswald’s chubby cheek.

“But you preferred her!” Oswald complains.

“But I’m here now!”

“But…I’m still hurting.” His voice breaks once again, yet the tears stay pooled on his good eye.

“Look, Oz…I did a lot of thinking in Arkham.” He takes Oswald’s hands into his. “I realised a lot about me. And a lot about us.” Ed moves their hands back and forth between their bodies. “That night we met again at your limo and we went back to your place…I meant all that I said.” He smiles fondly and is glad to see Oswald smile back. “I’m glad you gave me a place to stay! And it felt so nice and warm to be back in your manor. Enjoying domesticity like we used to during your Mayor days.” He finally closes the gap between him and Oswald. “It was pleasant, and a comfortable living arrangement. That was of course, until I had to face my suppressed feelings with your confession.” Oswald blinks and looks down. “Thinking about it now truly makes me feel like a grade-A idiot, because your feelings were so pure and I was…” he does that fluttery thing with his eyes. “Confused. But now I know more about me and what I want…as well as who I want.” Ed winks and Oz can do nothing but blush. “This time I had a choice, and I chose you. I’ll always choose you, no matter who comes in the way. There’s no one else.” Ed goes to kiss Oswald’s forehead and Oz swears his body probably dried up from the heat he felt.

“You…you mean that?” He asks shyly once the redness leaves his ears.

“Of course I do!” He starts swaying whilst enveloped in the hug. “I’ve been by your side since we arrived at your house that night and I swear I don't plan on leaving your side ever again." He kisses the penguin's forehead again. "I was going to look for you if I hadn’t accidentally walked inside your limo anyways. And even if I don’t show you my love and appreciation, I promise you it’s there. I’m just…terrible at expressing them sometimes.”

“Well, I suppose you have been very comfortable with physical touches this time around.” Oswald digs his head into Edward’s chest.

“Is that not enough proof?” Ed smirks and Oswald loves it when his Riddler side comes out; giving Ed that confidence.

“I suppose it is. Although I’d be pleased if we moved this relationship a bit more forward.” Oswald walks into Edward, pushing him back a little.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Well, for starters I think I’d like to have you for dessert since our tart was ruined.”

“Mr. Cobblepot.” His back hits the rock wall. “What are you implying?” Another smirk.

“Oh…you know.” Their lips meet and Ed’s hand moves from Oswald’s waist to behind his neck, where he can grab at that hair he adores so much.

“By the way…” Ed breaks the kiss for a bit. “I’m grateful for your hospitality; the guest room is most comfortable, like always. But I was wondering if perhaps I could move inside your bedroom soon?”

“Oh, how I wish you’d ask me that sooner.” Oswald reunites their lips and begins pulling Ed down to the floor.

‘Perhaps it’s a bit late to suggest we start a fire for warmth.’ Ed’s nerd brain ponders under the pressure.

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a-cupof-jo · 4 years ago

Text

Dyspnea

Parings: Potion Master!Jaehyun X Medicinal Herbalist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Intended Angst, Magic!au

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: magic inaccuracies, food mentioned, tiny bit suggestive

For @ficscafe fic scenario event!

Summary: The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple, but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Prompt: 38. When they test out a love potion on their partner.

It wasn’t fair that so many people get to enjoy this day while he is stuck behind the shuttered windows dark shadows. He doesn’t hate this day. How could he? It was Valentine's day- and his birthday but that never mattered. Not to the everyday people who slip through his door hours before this day begins. He can’t blame them. For they came in search of something only he can provide.

Love.

Or at least some figment of love. For some it was a way to prove their love. Others used it to try and get their long time crush to like them back. Jaehyun can’t help but laugh every time a young teenager pushes open the door to his shop for the nth time that week saying that they wanted to test this “love potion” on another person. Of course he doesn’t give them a full love potion. Just something diluted down closer to an addictive, like honey. It barely lasts 15 minutes.

He hears a bell chime from the other room. Whipping his hands on his apron he walks through the separating doorway. “I’m sorry,” he glances toward a cracked window that no longer had sunlight gleaming through it. “I am actually closed.”

“Oh,” a man just shorter than Jaehyun stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll just come back tomorrow.” He bit his lip lightly glancing around the room.

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun waved his hand. “You are already here. Might as well make good of the trip. Besides. I don’t mind.” He grinned at the man, trying to ease the tension that laced through the newcomers face.

The man sighed before stepping closer, “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Jaehyun gave a light laugh. “Gives me something better to do than stir pots,” he watched the man warily as the sentence left his lips. “Magical beings” were still a wary subject for some people even if they had been able to practice in the open for nearly 50 years now. When the man just gave him a small smile Jaehyun stepped behind the counter that held his potions and elixirs. “What can I help you find today Mr…”

“Oh, Lee. But just call me Taeyong,” he waved his hand around peering through the glass at the display. “Well here’s my situation.” He glanced up at Jaehyun. “I have a date coming up and my date said there is this potion that allowed a person to change their hair color just by drinking it,” Taeyong looked amazed as he stared up at Jaehyun. “I wanted to try it out for our next date. That, and I’m not sure how much more bleaching my scalp can go through.” He combed his hand through his hair giving it a light tug at the bangs afterwards.

Jaehyun grimaced as he watched the straw like strands fall back into place, “Well you’re where you need to be. I have a lot of potions for that.” He moved down the row to where a shelf full of colorful bottles filled every inch. “There’s all of these, plus I can also create other colors if you don’t see one you like here.”

Taeyong peered back through the glass eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around the box a few times. "What about white?" He rested a hand over a bottle he assumed to hold the potion.

Jaehyun grinned, "One of my best sellers." Reaching for a little black jar Jaehyun scan the man. He would obviously look good with white hair. He probably looks good with any color of hair. "You just want to try the white?"

Taeyong hummed a second glancing toward the moonlit window, "Yes, just the white."

Jaehyun set the bottle is a small leather pouch, "2 shillings." The coins clinked as rested on the counter. "Enjoy! Have a good night." He watched the thin man walk through the door and past the window before latching the door shut. Taeyong had been pleasant and kind but Jaehyun couldn't help but be slightly peeved with the man. Unlatching the door he peeked his head out; he glanced to his left and, yes, there was still the sign with hours stating 'Dawn to Dusk' hanging off the building.

The moon was bright tonight and he couldn’t help but stare at it. How could it be that a ball of rock could bring him such peace. Maybe it was just the ambiance, but a little part of him wants to believe that there's a little man that lives on that moon and watches over the earth. It might seem ridiculous, but he could brew color changing elixirs and make people fall in love, so it couldn’t be that far fetched.

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Jaehyun jumped lightly as arms wrapped around him from behind. He sighed as you placed your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. I got stuck talking to Johnny at the market.” Your finger traced little patterns on his stomach as you both stood in the dimly lit doorway. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” You pulled at his arm. Jaehyun closed his eyes taking a deep breath of clear night air before turning and giving you a soft smile. “I may have something for you. You know, considering it is valentines day.”

“Only because it’s valentines day,” He raised an eyebrow at you as you glided through the small store.

You were once an enigma to him. Someone he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch. Your brother, adoptive brother, Johnny was Jaehyun’s best friend growing up. You were the aloof younger sister that Jaehyun hardly knew about until you made it to your apprenticeship. For as long as Jaehyun had known you, you’d have always been enamored by plants and flowers. So, when he found out you were studying herbal medicine, he wasn’t surprised.

“Of course, what other day would it be,” you gave him a small smile as you stood near the pot Jaehyun had previously been working at.

Jaehyun's relationship with you had been moments of fleeting looks, paths crossing, and unspoken rules. Two lives bending and swaying, following the same path, but never touching. Until you broke the pattern, you veered off course.

He had just finished his apprenticeship with the, now retired, potions master Kim. Mr. Kim had taken Jaehyun in from a young age, raising him when Jaehyun’s parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with someone containing magical properties. Johnny had planned a small party congratulating Jaehyun on his success. He didn’t know you were going to be there. Even if you were Johnny’s sibling you never showed anything but indifference to Jaehyun. Music had played from a small group of boys too loud for the space they were in.

You had sauntered over, a small flute of champagne dangling from your fingertips. "Can you do it?" Jaehyun had been surprised by your bluntness. "Take over for Kim. There's gonna be a lot of pressure," you noted, not unkindly.

"There will be, but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me take over if he didn't have at least some confidence in my abilities," he swiped the glass from your hand and swallowed down the contents. "Besides, he's still going to be around. He hasn't cut me loose yet."

You grabbed his hand in yours and tugged him towards the outskirts of dancing people, "A dance?" You didn't wait for a response as you twirled him closer to the center of the floor.

Jaehyun was not surprised at your fluid movements. Johnny had always bragged about how his sister was a natural dancer and the best in their city, perhaps the world. He smiled at you now sharing Johnny's sentiments. You gave him a small grin in return as the music died, "You're going to be great."

A whoop went up from one of the musicians, Donghyuck, Jaehyun's brain supplied. Your grin grew as you raised your voice in a louder whoop. Jaehyun watched as the sentimental atmosphere changed. You grabbed his hands leading him to a lively dance, "Beside, you can't fail, not when I'm just a few doors down."

"You mean cause Ms. Joy is a few doors down," Jaehyun teasing corrected.

You shake your head at him, "I'll be a few doors down."

You were, and a line that you didn't know existed between you both was crossed. Jaehyun wasn't sure who started the late night rendezvous or the unspoken pact of always standing by each other, but turned into late night talks which turned into early morning coffee, and later, shared lunches.

You guys fell into a rhythm, a three year rhythm that morphed into passing kisses, soft hugs, mornings of gentle coaxing and nights of soft loving.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you glancing into the pot full of a clear liquid, thicker than water and smelled of sweet syrup, "Busy?"

You spun to face him shaking your head as you fixed the collar of his shirt, "Everyone was too busy being in love to be worried about visiting me.”

“Ah, the prettiest healer on the street doesn’t have love on this day,” Jaehyun furrowed his brow. “I knew this would happen. You would leave me because I have given love to everyone but you.”

You gave him a light giggle kissing the corner of his mouth, “I would never leave you.” You spin out of his arms walking further towards the house that sat behind the shop. “You are my soulmate,” you gave Jaehyun a look full of adoration and love.

Jaehyun was sure that his face read the same, “My perfect half.”

You motioned for him to follow you, “Come, I made something for you.”

“Made something for me,” Jaehyun stepped into the small living areas entryway. “What is the occasion?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” you had shrugged, pulling a large dutch oven out of the convection oven. You turned and furrowed your brows at him, “and I think there’s something else going on today. Any idea what that is?”

Jaehyun shrugged, “None that I can think of.”

“Hmm,” you opened the lid letting more of the aroma fill the room. Your mouth popped open in mock surprise, “Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday.” You placed vegetables on the table before scooping up some hot soup. You widen your eyes at him, humor dancing through them, “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Especially because I got you something special.”

“Something special?” Jaehyun placed cups on the small table as you set down the plates. “Where is it?”

You grinned and leaned in close to his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find.” You laughed as Jaehyun let out a choked breath and scanned you up and down. “Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need all of your energy.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jaehyun gave an astonished laugh grinning as you sat across from him placing a small cupcake in front of him.

The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Jaehyun hummed under his breath as the sun shone through his shop's open windows. Spring was just around the corner and Jaehyun’s happy mood couldn’t be dimmed. Warm bright weather brought in more customers. More customers meant that he was busier, and brought in more revenue, but mostly he was busier. That was one reason Jaehyun loved his job. He was working with his hands all day. There was never a moment where he was bored.

He watched as a little boy walked between the two aisles the shop held. It wasn’t much, but the little trinkets and common potions that lined the shelves made Jaehyun proud of how far he had come. He could still picture the small store from when he was around the young boy's age. Laughter sounded through the store as the boy tried to escape his mother's hands. "Have a good day!" Jaehyun watched the giggling pair walk out the front door. Turning to the backroom he sighed looking at the pot that sat there.

The weeks he had spent trying to develop a new love potion was wasted as he, once again, failed. Since before Valentines day, now nearly 2 weeks ago, he had been cooped up in that backroom, trying to find a better love concoction. You, while fully willing, were starting to become an annoyed test subject. Jaehyun couldn't help but get testy when you complained about the new love potion. If you were gonna tell him it wasn't good or right then maybe you could give some ideas on how to fix it. Maybe he just needs to find a new test subject. Jaehyun looked through the list of love potions and ingredients that he had already used. Too many, he scowled down at the pages and pages of notes he had made on each variety of potion he had made.

"Hello," he heard the little bell connected to the front door ring and someone walked around the shop, obviously looking for him.

Jaehyun sighed, rolled his shoulders back and tried to put on his best smile, "Hi, what can I help you with- Oh Taeyong. Hello." Jaehyun scanned the man in front of him. "The white looks good."

Taeyong reached up and ran a hand through his bright white hair, "Thanks. I love it and so did my date." He tapped his index fingers together as he walked back up to the counter full of the colored potions. "I wanted to try more."

Jaehyun smiled as the man scanned the rows, "We've plenty to choose from."

Taeyong narrowed his eyes, concentrating on different colors. He eyes flickered up and met Jaehyun's, "I can't decide. What do you think? What would look good?"

"He looks great in pink," a hand wrapped around his bicep. "He knows it too, but not many can pull it off well. You might be able to," Jaehyun grinned at you. While you were right about pink being a difficult color to pull off, you knew more than that, the pink dye was the hardest one to make. Which is why when Jaehyun glanced down at the box, he saw only 2 pink vials while the others had at least 10. "What about red? Maybe a green?"

Taeyong watched the two of you share another quick look. Clearing his throat slightly he looked down in the box again. "Red and green," he nodded his head. "Yes, I think I'll try those. One of each, please."

Jaehyun grabbed the two vials and placed them both in a leather patch that you held open, "Okay, 4 shillings." Taeyong placed the coins in Jaehyun's hand. "Have a good day!"

"You too," Taeyong gave a half hearted wave.

Jaehyun sighed as your arms wrapped fully around him, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his face, your eyes fluted around looking for an answer.

“I still can’t get this potion right,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. Jaehyun felt you press closer to you, your hands started running up and down his sides. “I want something different, something that shows who you are supposed to love, but how are you supposed to know that.”

“Soulmates.” Jaehyun startled as the voice rang through the shop. He turned to glare at the man who had made him jump, “Sorry.” Taeyong raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to intrude or overstay my welcome, but I can’t help but be fascinated by all of this. And also you can’t really-”

“It’s fine,” your arms dropped away from Jaehyun. You finger tapped your chin as you considered Taeyong words, “Soulmates… that may work, but, how could you put something like a soulmate indicator in a love potion.”

Jaehyun tapped his hands on the counter. Soulmates, while not nonexistent, hadn’t been thought about in decades. In fact, Jaehyun didn't know the first thing about finding soulmates or even if he believed in them. It’s not not very plausible, he can’t just give someone a potion and tell them that it will give them their soulmate. There's more to it than that. More to love and being in love then just having souls destined to be together, "I can't do that." He shakes his head at the two who had continued to excitedly discuss the topic. He watched as their faces morphed to disbelief and disappointment.

Your hands came up to rest on your hips, "And why not."

Jaehyun reached into the glass cabinet rearranging vials and avoiding eye contact, "There's no way I can reveal soulmates. Too many indicators and no defiant way to squeeze all of those into one potion. Soulmates and their indicators have been hidden for years and it's rare that people ever find or want to be with their soulmate. Besides, there are too many variables."

"Too many variables," you gave a light scoff.

"What if you didn't give them a way to instantly reveal their soulmate," Taeyong cut in. "What if, instead, you revealed soulmate indicators or made them stronger."

"What do you mean," Jaehyun sighed. He knew they weren't going to give this up. The hope and excitement in their eyes made Jaehyun more hesitant to even consider creating this potion.

Taeyong walked closer to the counter where Jaehyun and you stood. “Soulmates, they are predestined, we can’t control or decide who they are or how we get paired. Now, many of us don’t meet our soulmates, the bonds aren’t as strong and people can find people they truly love. What if you strengthen the bonds? Revealed them?” Taeyong lifted his hand wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I think I feel a tug on my hand, especially when I am at home alone. I can’t help but wonder if, hope, it’s my soulmate.”

You watched him, an unfamiliar look in your eyes. Slowly you turned to Jaehyun and grabbed his right hand in both of yours, “Please Jaehyun, you can do this, we can do this. Help others find their soulmate, their perfect half.” Your eyes pleaded with him.

It really wasn’t fair. You knew that he would do anything for you, and you used that against him. Jaehyun sighed, “Okay, I’ll try. If you think this will work I’m willing to work on it.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face as you gave him a hug cheering along with Taeyong. He watched as you danced around the room bidding goodbye as you ran back to work. Taeyong also raced out of the shop, saying something about a ruby and some fish. As he watched the door swing shut the smile dropped his face. He couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach and the distinct feeling that this would not end well.

Jaehyun stirred the sweet smelling syrup again. This was his fifth attempt at this potion. By this point he was frustrated. Nothing was working, all he kept making were diluted love potions, potions that made eyes change colors when they saw their loved ones, and a potion that made your heart glow from inside your chest. Both you and Jaehyun had been disturbed by the last potion. He had spent two weeks trying to figure this out. Both Taeyong and you had been helping when and where you could. You would get herbs and plants of magical origins, guiding and helping with the new ones that Jaehyun hadn’t seen before. Whereas, Taeyong would stir the potions or gather, obscure, ingredients- fairy dust, dwarf warts, pegasus hoof shavings. While impressive, Jaehyun was too scared to ask Taeyong how he got all real, authentic these ingredients or knew about all of these ingredients. As far as Jaehyun knew, Taeyong wasn’t a magic user. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he descended from fairies or mermaids.

He sighed as the potion bubbled the mugwort he just dropped in hissed as it blended, “Make a potion, they said. It will help people, they said.” He pulled out another vial. He had it simply labeled “love”. A base potion that he used when creating all his love potions, but this wasn’t a love potion, not truly. People don’t fall in love because of it, they may not even be able to find love because of it. With that thought in mind he set the base potion down and pulled out a different potion. It’s more medicinal, healing than anything else. It was the first potion that you and Jaehyun had made together. A potion that could heal a bond. Chi bonds specifically. Maybe it would work. If he broke it down to its core parts and mixed it with the current love potion or maybe the one that made your heart glow just a few nights ago.

Jaehyun jumped from his seat racing around the room grabbing ingredients and writing down ratios and doses. The smell of linens and irises filled the room. Jaehyun could help but feel comfort from the two smells. It smelled like you. Like a warm day under the sun laying in the little meadow sitting on the outskirts of town.

“It smells so good here,” Jaehyun looked up as you entered the room. You closed your eyes inhaling a deep breath. “Like just after it rains and…” you took another deep breath, “and roses.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. That was interesting. The scent was different to everyone. Maybe it was a comforting scent or the scent of your beloved. It may have worked this time. Jaehyun stirred the pot a few more times before turning off the heat, “I just need to let it cool now.”

You walked closer to him peering down into the now pale yellow potion, “You think it worked this time?”

Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your waist. He shrugged, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, “Maybe. I tried something different this time. It may do the trick.”

You hummed as he swayed you both back and forth, “That’s good. I’m really glad that you decided to make this. Soulmates were intended to be together, to have each other and we’ve moved so far from that.” You reached up and played with his hair twirling it between your fingers a few times, “I know that it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know, to confirm what I know, you’re my soulmate.”

Jaehyun was so in love with you. So ready to spend the rest of his days with you. He took another deep breath, linens and irises, “My better half.” He kissed under your ear before moving to grab a ladle from beside the pot, “Would you like to ladle or hold the bottles.” You grabbed the ladle from him motioning to move closer to the pot. “Would you like to know what I used this time? What the heart of this potion?” He watched you nod your head urging him to continue, “Our first potion.” Your head shot up surprise lighting up every feature. Jaehyun laughed, “I still remember you rushing in here and demanding I help you. You had never had to make a medicinal potion for a chi before. I hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop us from trying. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe it was fate because that day I feel deeply and madly in love with you. You unlocked my ability to love.”

You stood still. Face slack jawed but eyes full of love, “You’re such a dork.” Jaehyun couldn’t say anything before you were in his arms, lips on his, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jaehyun grinned at you, pulling further away from you. He looked over at the now empty pot. “Now, rock, paper, scissors for who has to drink the potion.” He held his hand up in a fist.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Rock, paper, scissors.” You sighed as he held up scissors motioning to cut through your paper. “Fine,” you picked up the small vial tilting it in a small cheers before drinking the liquid inside.

Jaehyun waited, the air tense around the two of you. A bell rang, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. A small red string pulled at your previously bare pinkie, “Hey guys! What’s going on. It smells so good here, like fresh linen and Irises. Are you guys back he- oh.” The string led past Jaehyun and tugged tight where Taeyong stood, his hand lifted in surprise.

Tag List: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

#ficscafe scenario event #ficscafe #k-dinernet #knet-bakery #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #soulmate au #magic au

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imarealnamenow · 4 years ago

Text

Here we go

This blog was literally created because of the sheer volume of Spooky!Lads stuff I've collected on my phone. The AU is originally by @alittlesliceofcucumber and I am currently slightly obsessed with it. The tag is also kinda empty, so I wanted to help fill it up a bit. Here's a little drabble that I wrote after one of their recent asks. Warnings for slight angst and fire, because Kevin.

It had been another exhaustingly long day. A small band of hunters had been setting up in town and things came to a head when Brian literally ran straight into one at the store, losing his hat and exposing his laser eye. It was definitely one of the more stupid reveals they had had. Right up there with Seán shifting in the middle of a crowded park so that he and Kevin could play fetch.

Either way, it turned into a fight with all of the lads leading the group into the forest and scaring hunters off one by one. Now, they were all exhausted. Dan insisted that everyone stay at the mansion for the night. Brian tried to refuse, but backed down when Dan used his Mom Voice to explain that it was safer if they were all together. They needed to be sure that the hunters had completely left and wandering off into the forest, alone, in the dark was not smart.

Normally Kevin and Seán would pounce at the chance for a sleepover, dragging the others into helping them build a fort in the living room, but tonight they're both too exhausted, wishing the others a goodnight and heading straight to their beds. Dan knows he'll be up for a while yet. His biology keeps him from sleeping at night more often than not. Even if he's tired, he just can't ever seem to get to sleep until the sun is already rising outside. He settles down in the library with a sigh, pulling out a book that he's read too many times to count.

The words pull him in and he's almost a third of the way through it when a commotion from upstairs draws his attention. There's shouting and a crash, the faintest smell of smoke, and he's sprinting up the stairs. He goes straight to Kevin's room completely prepared to start scolding him the minute he opens the door. Instead of Kevin's usual brand of light chaos, though, he finds confusion and a much larger fire than he was expecting.

The whole bed is up in flames. Seán has Kevin pulled onto the floor, using a discarded jacket to smother the fire clinging to the rest of his clothes. Dan lunges for the fire extinguisher. He pulls the pin and aims it at the bed, drenching it in plumes of white. The fire dies quickly with nothing else to spread to. For a moment the only sound was their collective heavy breathing. "Christ, Kev. We've been over this before. The one thing that you should absolutely not be setting on fire is yourself, " Seán mumbles, breaking the moment.

Kevin makes a wounded noise and pulls himself up to lean against the wall beside the nightstand. There's a nasty burn taking shape on one of his shoulders and stretching down onto his chest where his sleeve had caught and kept the flames too close to his skin. Otherwise he thankfully just looks a little singed. Dan has to wonder how far along the fire was before Seán had noticed.

The thought pushes the little ball of fear that he always has for Kevin and his fires to the forefront of his mind. "What the hell were you trying to do?" he demands. Kevin looks at him, confusion written across every line of his face. "I -I didn't...I don't know."

#spooky!lads #can you tell I still don't know what I'm doing?

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

Note

Are you still taking prompts? We are thirsty and were hoping for “bite me” in a fivan vampire au. Pretty please? What’s that you say? That’s not on the list you shared? Um, oops? I said we are thirsty! 🤤

Ahaha, okay, I think this is going to do it for the prompts for now. I want to get back to working on PEL, and I have (mostly) given the people what they want. But before you hasten to my inbox to request more of this (which I know the Very Hungry Lot of you will do, and I love you so much for it): do know that this is indeed related to a larger project and this is just the first bit of it.

What is that project? Shh. I am not telling you just yet. It's a secret.

Belgrade, Kingdom of Serbia

June 1896

The summer evening is warm and purple, lit atmospherically by both the older gaslamps and the newfangled electric lights (there is a Serb in New York, a man by the name of Tesla, whose great scientific inventions and experiments with alternating current may soon illuminate the entire world), and the well-dressed crowd flows toward the café in a tide of rustling satin, silk, and velvet, ladies in evening dress and men in top hats and monocles. The establishment is the Golden Cross, in Terazije, a bustling neighborhood just south of Stari Grad, and the attraction is an exhibition of the marvelous moving pictures of the Lumière brothers – the first such show in the Balkans, and indeed outside of Paris, after they were first premiered in great triumph six months ago. Or at least, so it is for most of the attendees tonight. Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky has a different task.

He stands apart from the milling throngs, well dressed in a high-collared coat and silken cravat, dark hair parted ruler-straight and face freshly shaven, a old golden watch tucked in his breast pocket and his shoes polished to a perfect sheen. While the people hurry past almost close enough to jostle him, they have a peculiar difficulty in registering that he is there. They sense something, yes – a cold breath on the back of the neck, a prey animal’s inborn reflex to warily search the shadows – but it never quite clicks. They continue on their way without being troubled in their own sense of reality, or ever realizing who – what – is standing there with them. It is just one of the odd, disjointed experiences that Fedyor has had to come to terms with, in the twenty-two years since he became a vampire.

By habit, he checks the horizon. These summer days are late and long, and Fedyor is still young enough that he can’t tolerate more than a few minutes of sunlight. It has taken years to be able to go out by day at all, half-thinking he had dreamed the waking world, become wholly one with the shadows and the night. When he emerged in the last gasps of afternoon, when he felt the golden warmth on his face for the first time in almost two decades, he wept. It still causes him vestigial pain, but not as much. Not so much that it cannot be borne.

He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket and checks the name again. Then he puts it back and slips smoothly into the crowd. At the threshold, he feels that faint, telltale twinge, the knowledge of entering another creature’s territory without being explicitly bidden to do so. The Golden Cross belongs to the vampire king of Belgrade, who is rumored to be five hundred years old and a veteran of the Battle of Kosovo in 1389 (which, so far as Fedyor can tell, the Serbs have never gotten over losing to the Turks) and Fedyor is not interested in pissing him off. But therefore it is, by Conclave law, a place where all vampires in the city can freely congregate, so long as they haven’t committed some terrible crime. It also means that Fedyor may find the man he is looking for in here, and not have to cross into enemy turf.

A rich reek of wine and brandy, of hand-cranked ice cream in cut-glass bowls, of ladies’ perfume and men’s cologne, of sweat and starch and thrumming hot blood, rises into Fedyor’s nose as he inhales, as his senses have been honed a hundred times more acutely than what he was previously used to. He searches the crowded room, on high alert for another supernatural. Nothing, at least not thus far. But it is a delicate and fiddly bit of bloodsucker diplomacy for which he is here tonight, having to do with the rumor that a local group of creatures have formed a shadowy secret society called Црна рука, the Black Hand, with the aim of expressly interfering in human politics. This, of course, is strictly against the rules, and they need to be reminded of that fact. Fedyor would very much prefer not to fight an anarchist rebel vampire in the middle of a café crowded with oblivious humans, but the thought crosses his mind that this is an excellent soft target. The eyes of the entire city, the Balkans, the international art community, are fixed on this place tonight. If something went wrong – if the Golden Cross and all the souls within it were blown to smithereens –

Fedyor orders a drink at the bar – he has been promised that one day he will again also be able to eat human food if he craves the taste, but it will not nourish him – and sits down near the back, keeping a sharp eye out. Andre Carr, the Frenchman who has traveled from Lyon as the Lumière brothers’ representative, is setting up the unwieldy projector and barking at his assistants to be careful with the fragile, bulky spools of film, his mustache bristling in agitation. Fedyor gauges the mood of the crowd, the din of their heartbeats, their eager interest, their whispered gossip. Still no other supernaturals that he can sense, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not here. The vampire king and his underlings will have plenty of ways to conceal themselves from a relative child like Fedyor. As will the Black Hand.

He leans back in his chair and samples the whisky. Not bad, he thinks, though it’s been a long time since he drank human libations. It’s nice to be out among regular people, but he always has to keep strict watch on the part of himself that yearns to feed, that wants them to run, to fear, to fall. Fedyor has been a vampire long enough to control the hunger, to drink mostly from animals and space out his feeds on humans, to ask them for their consent or pay them for their trouble, but it’s still a struggle. He understands the urge that drives vampires to sequester themselves, to only live among their own kind, to keep drones and other willing human servants to feed from, so that you are not put to the trouble of chasing down a stranger and politely asking to bite them in the neck every fortnight or so, don’t get mixed up as to whether the mortals are your dinner company or just your dinner. It is a deuced bloody bother of a business. Fedyor always feels like an idiot whenever he tries.

Carr and his minions sort out their difficulties, and eventually the lights go down, provoking another eager murmur. Fedyor is not immune to the lure of whatever they are about to see, and he could have done much worse for a new home. He arrived here six years ago from his hometown in Russia, once his lack of aging became too difficult to conceal from his friends and family. Belle epoque Belgrade is a cosmopolitan, cultured world of stately opera houses and marble palaces, grand balls and gaslights, synagogues and streetcars, mosques and museums, bohemians and bordellos and broad balconies, telegraph wires and trolley cars and twisting lanes, churches and coffee shops in the Viennese style, with white-aproned waiters and colored mosaics and demitasse cups of Italian espresso. It is an ancient city, placed in a lethally strategic location at the confluence of two rivers, fought over in almost a hundred wars and razed almost forty times (and doubtless there are still more unmakings yet to come). Fedyor has found a place among the vampire community here, enough that he is trusted to deal with the Black Hand, despite his immortal youth. As to how that will go, well…

He watches the film with half an eye, impressed by the moving pictures just like his human counterparts, and then he feels it. The coldness on the back of his neck, the chirp of a sixth sense, the unshakeable awareness that he is being observed by a fellow bloodsucker. Though that term is considered somewhat dated and passé these days, mildly offensive. Vampires are eager as humans to participate in the scientific and industrial revolution, to concoct more enlightened regulations for themselves, to create an academic literature for their origins. There is talk among the sophisticated supernatural set of organizing an Academy for Preternatural Science, to hire vampire scholars, to establish a university. It’s a nice thought, if somewhat too ambitious (or so Fedyor thinks) for a race of beings that has only just decided that solving every problem with blood feuds to the death might not be the best idea. He wonders if one of those unreconstructed barbarians is behind him now.

Slowly, smoothly, so as to demonstrate that he is perfectly aware of being hunted, Fedyor turns around, and catches sight of the newcomer across the way. He is handsome – but then again, most vampires are, as it’s one of the benefits of the transformation. This one, however, is possessed of a roguish, rough-hewn attractiveness that seems genuine, still close to the face he wore as a mortal man, and not the eerie, glossy, imperturbable beauty that Fedyor sometimes finds so off-putting about his compatriots. This vampire is also wearing good clothes, and his overcoat is dark red, embroidered with curling black patterns. He looks at Fedyor, their eyes meet, and he nods once, half an inch. Game on.

Fedyor does his best to sit still until the lights come up, and the crowd claps rapturously and disperses to fetch more drinks and gush about the performance. Then he gets up and drifts toward a velvet curtain, slipping unobtrusively behind it. Back here, it is dark, dusty, and smells of candlewax and grease paint, the remnants of another performance, a conjurer’s closet. He steadies himself, turns around, and –

“Good evening,” the voice says, cold and curt. “I believe you were waiting to speak to me.”

“Yes.” Fedyor does his best to smile and appear charming and in command of the situation. “My name is Fedyor Kaminsky, and I am a representative of the Conclave. They have sent me here tonight in hopes of locating Ivan Sakharov, of the Black Hand. Is that you?”

The other vampire regards him flatly. His eyes are brown, as is his hair, which is cropped military-short and kept as sharp as his face. When he folds his arms, his muscles bulge, even through the sleeves of the well-tailored coat. “And if I was?”

“Then,” Fedyor says, “I am authorized by that same Conclave to deliver a warning to you and your associates that your current activities fall outside the bounds of the common supernatural law, and if you persist in pursuing them, there will be consequences.”

The other – well, he hasn’t denied it, so this must indeed be Ivan Sakharov – looks back at him with an utterly unimpressed expression. “Oh, so the Conclave found a new stooge to do their bidding? You’re a bit younger and fresher than the usual corpses those desiccated old tightwads usually send out after us, I’ll give you that. How long have you been in Belgrade?”

“How long have you?” Fedyor is almost sure he recognizes Ivan’s accent; they’re speaking Serbo-Croatian, but in both cases with a familiar cadence. “You’re Russian, aren’t you?”

That catches the other vampire by surprise. He hisses, baring a pair of white and very sharp fangs, and his eyes go briefly black. “You think so?”

“Yes,” Fedyor says. “But older than me, I think. Possibly quite a bit, though by how much, I can’t be sure. If we were to – ” he switches languages smoothly, in midsentence – “continue this conversation in Russian, would that be more to your liking?”

Ivan Sakharov eyes him icily. He must know that if he speaks their native tongue, he risks giving away his age by the style of his grammar, or perhaps his place of birth, and that is dangerous information for an unknown quantity to hold over you. There is a whiff of the emperor’s court around him, or perhaps the empress – does he hail from Catherine the Great’s day, Fedyor wonders, or earlier? There’s a long, crackling pause. Then Ivan says in brittle, too-correct English, “Or perhaps we should converse like this?”

Fedyor inclines his head, accepting that he has – for now – been outmaneuvered. They still haven’t taken their eyes off each other, standing close together in the dim velvet-draped shadows, near enough that if they were human, they would feel the other’s heat. There’s nothing but the faint wintry chill of unliving flesh, though a certain hunger rises unbidden in Fedyor’s stomach nonetheless. Then he says, “This does not have to be difficult. Cease your lawlessness and tell your friends to do the same.”

Ivan takes another step, close enough that their noses almost brush. “The Conclave has no power over me, Fedyor Kaminsky.”

“Do you want to test that?” Fedyor breathes, struggling to keep his focus at the other vampire’s threatening-but-thrilling nearness, the way his blood is singing under his skin in an entirely different way than he expected or frankly, that he wants. Just because Ivan Sakharov is annoyingly attractive (and also Russian) does not mean that he is not a dangerous, war-mongering, secret-cabal-plotting megalomaniac, and Fedyor does not need that sort of nonsense in his life. “If you did, I would, of course, be authorized to place you under arrest.”

Ivan looks at him goadingly. “I would like to see you try.”

Oh, so he is indeed one of those immortals (read: the kind who really need to experience mortality just to be kicked very hard in the balls). Fedyor struggles to contain his irritation. If he shows that this handsome bastard has gotten to him, this will only get worse. “If you promise to desist,” he says, “the Conclave will drop this matter and consider it closed. You and the rest of the Black Hand will not be subject to further investigation. That, or – ”

“How do I know that you are even from the Conclave? That you are who you say?”

“Why would I lie about it?”

Ivan shrugs. “I want proof.”

Fedyor grits his fangs. “What do you expect? A badge?”

“No. But I will accept your blood.”

That catches Fedyor off guard. Not that it should, necessarily. Since vampires can sense the thoughts and feelings of the creature that they’re feeding on, it’s a quick and time-tested way to prove that there is no funny business going on (or at least, no business that is funny beyond the usual). The obvious difficulty, however, is that it requires a possibly unfriendly rival to bite your neck or at the very least, your wrist, and one can understand why there would be a natural hesitation to yield one’s neck (Fedyor happens to be rather fond of his) to the clutches of the likes of Ivan Sakharov. But if he says no, he looks like he is weak or that he has something to hide, that he doesn’t trust Ivan or regard him as an equal, and the already-febrile situation with the Black Hand will only get worse. As bluffs go, Fedyor could call this one. But it would be very risky, and if it blows up in his face…

“Very well,” Fedyor says, chillingly correct. He pulls aside the collar of his evening coat and tilts his head, exposing the side of his throat. “Test me all you like.”

Ivan looks at him with something that makes that thing in Fedyor’s stomach rise up again, hot as an ember left burning in a brazier even when all the other lights go out. He hasn’t been warmed like this, not even by the sun, ever since he was turned in 1874 by a vampire named Dmitri Karamazov. He does his utmost to force it down. If Ivan bites him and senses that –

There’s a final pause, soft as tissue paper, fine as crystal. Then Ivan steps forward, looking almost impressed, as if he expected Fedyor to find some reason to back out. He flexes his jaw, bringing out those two impressively white and sharp fangs again, and reaches out, gripping Fedyor’s waist with his big hands and drawing him somewhat closer than is strictly necessary. Then he whispers, “As you wish, Conclave whore,” and bites.

He’s not entirely gentle about it, not that vampires usually are and not that Fedyor wasn’t expecting it. But all at once, as Ivan sucks at him, his mouth pressed hungrily to Fedyor’s neck, wet and raw and savage, Fedyor goes weak in the knees. He’s been fed on before, tested before, and this is different from any of those. He utters a mewling noise of need that he is shocked and deeply outraged to hear from himself, pressing still closer, knocking Ivan a few steps backward into the wall. His hands come up, seeking purchase on the other’s broad shoulders, a smoky curl of desire rising through him like rich incense. “Mmm,” he mutters. “Mmmgh. Yes. Like that. Yes.”

Ivan doesn’t answer for obvious reasons, since his mouth is otherwise occupied, but Fedyor can feel the little frisson of pleasure that travels through him at those words. That takes him aback. Not that he should rush to generalize, since most vampires are fairly flexible in their intimate preferences (you don’t live that long without wanting to sample everything that is on offer, carnally speaking) but for some reason, he just assumed that this tough, frightening, hard-as-nails secret anarchist supernatural idiot wouldn’t be inclined to gentlemen. Not that Fedyor is necessarily objecting. This feels far better than it has any right to do, considering that it started out as a naked challenge to his veracity. Agh, fuck, he should not think about naked. That makes the arousal burn even more hungrily, as he arches his back and presses himself wantonly against Ivan and knows that he’s hard as a rock and that this utter menace can definitely feel it. Ivan is in no hurry to pull away. He drinks for a few more seconds, past when there can be any reasonable doubt that Fedyor is telling the truth, and then slowly, deliberately breaks contact, fangs still half in Fedyor’s throat, as he withdraws with luxurious leisure. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and growls, “Ah.”

“Yes, ah,” Fedyor says, trying not to stammer, as pulses of hot and cold rush through him from head to toe. “Are you satisfied?”

Ivan gives him a wicked smile, drops of Fedyor’s blood still glistening heart-scarlet on his lips. “Maybe.”

God almighty, kill me now. Difficult, of course, when one is – strictly speaking – already deceased. (And now deceased in a different way, which makes it two kinds of dead at once, which makes Fedyor a prodigy.) He wants to ask if Ivan will perform the customary service of licking the bite wounds closed, but he’s also afraid that he may physically incinerate if Ivan does so, and since fire is rather famously one of the only things that can harm vampires, it is better not to take the risk. Instead, Fedyor pulls out his handkerchief and dabs at his throat, with as much casualness as he can muster. “Well,” he says. “You’ve had my word, Ivan Sakharov. Will you give me yours that you will bring your illegal organization to an end and return to the rule of Conclave law?”

Ivan looks him up and down, eyes lingering on the too-tight fit of Fedyor’s pinstriped trousers. Then he leans in, so close that Fedyor truly does think they’re about to kiss and momentarily blacks out, and whispers against the shell of his ear, “Absolutely not.”

And with that, and no more than a rush of air, he is gone.

#ivan x fedyor #heartrender husbands #fivan #fivan ff #anonymous #ask #my god i'm so predictable #(we are all predictable)#but also yes

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jae-canikeepyou · 4 years ago

Text

| closer | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: au + idol!jae & choreographer/dancer!yn

a/n: this request is long overdue but here it is! :) i’m sorry for the long wait ;-; it’s challenging to write since i’m not a dancer so my explanation’s a lil’ suckish. also! i had to edit a song remix for this oneshot, so the dance and imagination’s clearly up to you *wink wink* enjoy reading! ~j

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though you lost count of the frequent, unexplainable somersaults you experienced in your stomach, you weren’t sure whether this always happen whenever you were told to join other dancers to monitor a routine for a group. perhaps it was just you, that today felt entirely different compared to when you first started.

as far as your career went, this was the only time you felt so stressed. and by ‘stressed’, it didn’t mean that the boys’ couldn’t get the steps right— they were fast learners and the choreography you helped co-create wouldn’t be a problem to them.

nct 127’s rehearsals were at a spacious backstage for straight two days now. in those short days, there was a certain air that lingered and you couldn’t fathom it properly. with you around, the boys would suddenly crowd in a circle, anywhere in the area, and began to utter out whispers you hoped your ears were able to hear. maybe if you were reincarnated, you’d choose an animal with great hearing to be able to hear what they were saying.

and honestly it got you wanting to pull your hair out because.. what if?

what if they disliked how you were a person of few words during practice? or that they preferred if you gave more feedbacks toward their dance like other choreographers who came before you? there weren’t any hints leading to the source of action and really, if this was an actual investigation you’d be removed from the team for not having quick-wits.

taeyong immediately became your close friend right when you were introduced to them by your seniors. he had this you-can-tell-me-anything aura all over him and was the only person you always conversed with among the boys. given that you were part of the choreo team since kick-it era, the boys welcomed you; like so much. but in those greetings, a gut feeling kept bothering you that you would be pulled into something.. perhaps something you might not be able to handle? you wouldn’t know. it was a gut feeling anyway, fifty percent of your intuition were always proven wrong.

you stared at the widespread mirror, arms up to record them while examining their moves and rhythms to the beat. they were tired, you could tell with the way they swayed and continuously wipe off the sweat rolling down their temples. so you decided to give them a break after three hours of practice.

replaying the video over and over to check if they got the timing right, taeyong went to sit by your side gulping and squeezing the water bottle. “relax y/n. you’ll get more wrinkles if you keep doing that.” he nudged you gently to catch your full atttention from the phone.

“do what, exactly?” you looked at him, eyebrows furrowed tiredly above your death-gazing eyes.

he poked you with the butt of the cold bottle he held, where beads from it soaked your forehead. “this.” he lectured you again, almost annoying to the ears. “it’s not at all attractive.”

“we both agreed you have better brows than me but ouch that’s rude. i think i’m quite pretty and you know it.” you return a playful poke that had him nearly trampling backwards, a slight sting felt by your ankle once you regained balance.

per usual, you disregarded his innocent comment and continued to monitor the practice via phone. he didn’t mean it and you knew that. taeyong kept bugging you to cool off from work and hang out with them since you were all good friends to begin with. of course that development happened in a span of few months to be able for you all to reach that certain relationship.

however, was it possible to attain the level of intimacy when recently, all you felt from the other guys was the weird gap? you couldn’t even describe the awkward distance. taeyong shook both of his sleeves into sweaterpaws to rub the droplets on your forehead.

“quite pretty? you’re beautiful! you’re like a cool princess every guy wants and i’d honestly date you if what we are isn’t platonic.” he danced in a wave effect with his arm. you gently hit his chest for being very vocal even if it just was the two of you.

“aww, you always know how to make me feel better! thanks.” you sweetly compliment him for a second before your smile turned into a frown.

at the corners of your peripheral, johnny, jungwoo, mark, donghyuck and yuta all averted your scrutiny. the action was obvious and quick, but what made it more suspicious was that it happened respectively like falling dominos. although they did typical and cliché gestures of escapism from your response, still they pretended to ignore you either with their hands shoved in pockets or whistles of their own song.

a surrendering huff caught taeyong’s attention. you never sighed nor show any emotions of distress before and this was a little concerning to him. “what’s wrong y/n?” he turned around to see the others minding their own business despite taeyong already realising the edginess they showed.

“can you help me figure something out with them?” you begged as you tilted your gently slightly to the side. “it’s been weeks and i have no idea why they’re acting this way. am i that unapproachable compared to my seniors?”

taeyong suddenly pursed his lips to a small circle as if he was hiding some top secret information that was ‘exclusive for members only’. “oh- y’know.” he nodded quite repetitively but with hesitating breaks in between. he knew what you were going to ask him since it hasn’t been the first time. he usually could dodge your curiosity and wondered why he couldn’t now. “they’re p-probably just chilling.. like always.. yep.” he popped the ‘p’ and stood. “i’m sure it’s because they’re tired from rehearsals!”

things couldn’t just get any weirder. you squinted your eyes as you scooted in closer to him. “you’re stuttering. you never do that.” you pointed out, observing his wavering eyes. “do you know something-”

he stammered and gently pushed you away a little like it would stop you from asking further. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking a-about.”

“hm you sure about that?” you hummed and he mouthed a ‘yes’. “you don’t know what’s coming after you if i figure it out buddy.”

“i’m sure, y/n. stop being a worrywart.” taeyong pinched your cheeks. “i’ll let know you right away if i hear anything out of the ordinary.”

“uh-huh. jaehyun’s the one i think who’s ’out of the ordinary’. we never talked. just hi’s and bye’s and he doesn’t smile at me.” you commented as you spotted him at the entrance door. “bummer, i really find him good-looking..” your phone buzzed a message from your leader. technically he wasn’t, but a person in-charge of your schedules to teach other idol groups.

somehow you felt a wave of relief that you would be out of the venue for the day. it would be assuring to not be around 127 for a while when they behaved like they did. who knew thinking too much would bring exhaustion? this was more tiring than dancing. a lot more. you swung your phone to taeyong, telling him that you were going to leave. “i gotta go, see you.”

“oh, alright. take care.” taeyong waved subtly, confused as to why you suddenly spoke of jaehyun out of the blue.

you let out a long sigh and exited the venue with thoughts of wonder; they were good people and most definitely you were the approachable type, so why were they keeping distance besides taeyong? johnny, yuta and donghyuck were super friendly, and it’s unlike them to suddenly keep quiet. mark and jungwoo were fun to tease; seeing the expressions they usually don’t put on around you was really fishy. taeil and doyoung have similar affection for you because you were like a little sister and.. jaehyun?

well.. jaehyun’s jaehyun, and among them, he was the far-fetched one. that was what you felt from him,

from the beginning.

because every single time you crossed paths, he would look away right when you locked eyes with him. there was no smile, no expression.

nothing at all.

maybe it pinched your heart a little. and maybe there would be a right time for this. just maybe not today. hopefully that wouldn’t extend for another month. hopefully you would get to talk to him like you did with the rest of them. it was a challenging to be patient when you’ve kind of taken a liking on jaehyun despite the inexplainable treatment. he was.. cute.

once you were out of the group’s sight, jaehyun came in with a duffle bag and a beanie— that basically made his hair in a frenzy- along with taeil & doyoung. he had his arms frantically shaking as if he was trying to reason out. “i can’t hold a normal conversation without tensing up.” he dropped his belongings and joined the crowd, not noticing the growing smirks slowly coming into view from his friends.

“and you think choosing to freeze and stare would make her talk to you?” taeil asked straight up. “that’s called cowardice bro.”

jaehyun combed his hair back and wore his beanie again when the focus was shifted to him. “no it’s not. it’s called being shy.. i guess.” he crossed his arm, unsure of his answer as well.

mark took a sip of watermelon juice, later eyeing a bowl sitting peacefully on one side of the table for seconds. “hyung, do you expect to get closer to y/n if you act like that though?” he gave johnny a side-eye as he hid his smile behind the cup, to whom the latter responded the same.

“all of us are trying to keep quiet of your ecstasy towards her like you asked us to.” jungwoo implored because what was done has to be said eventually. “and now she thinks we’re hiding something from her, i can feel her suspicions for the past weeks.”

“did you make it obvious?” jaehyun hissed a little. “i warned you to act natural-”

johnny wrapped the young man in his arms, earning laughs from the others. “the one who’s not acting natural is you. i thought you’re a straight-forward kind of guy. this should be a piece of cake for you.”

“everyone, please come to the center.” their manager called them to gather up, informing details regarding the next schedule for the week.

sm town concert was just a week away and they’ve been practicing nonstop for it. the exhaustion on their faces fled when the manager said something that would make the fans see them in a different light. some staff giggled at their reactions, some told them to go with it, the rest just wanted to see how it would turn out to be. the boys weren’t expecting it, not at a sudden time like this when they’ve gotten the rundown memorised already.

normally they complied and no arguments were brought forwards. now they managed to scream all vocabularies to reason out that another dance routine would make them more exhausted than before. “we’re not pulling a prank nor a hidden camera if that’s what you’re thinking. anyway, the added part is around a minute interlude.. it’s before the actual track. only one of you will dance it.”

yeses and cheers of relief made majority of the staff exchange looks because they weren’t finish with the information they received. “this interlude is by volunteer, so whoever wants to do it just raise your hand or come up front.” the manager instructed as he wrote down the minutes, later both of his brows arched high forasmuch to his surprise, the decision was quickly decided; it would usually take the boys a while. “oh! thanks for being cooperative, jaehyun! the rehearsal starts tomorrow...”

jaehyun’s head never shot up as fast as it did just now. he didn’t pay attention to the short meeting and since all of the voices were indistinct to him, he was astonished with hearing his name being said. he wondered why they concluded with him doing the interlude. in his head a second ago, he was coming up with plans to finally— and normally— conversate with you. and upon turning around, his friends failed to keep their snickers in. they all simultaneously took a step back, leaving the dimpled boy remain standing in his position.

“...and take ten, then we’ll proceed to the last two songs for today.” the manager left the boys for a break.

wheezing breaths and heavy falls on the floor were soon followed by exploding laughters. they were like fireworks, jolting the nerves out of jaehyun and he rolled his eyes at his friends’ intentions to tease him. “that’s not fair, you guys plotted against me.” he pinched the bridge of his nose when a flush of betrayal finally covered his entire conscience.

they laughed since it was a reaction they expected, but more so when he missed out the most crucial information. “oh my g- he doesn’t know! hahaha!” haechan and jungwoo clung onto each other for support. it was too much to handle.

yuta scooted close to johnny, who had his phone up the whole time. “that was on record, yeah?” he asked and the latter grinned devilishly.

“rgha!” jaehyun growled, soon accepting the role that was predestined to him. “i swear john if you-”

“he didn’t really hear it!” mark cut him off and joined the younger ones, hitting each other and as they couldn’t believe that jaehyun, could be this dense. “wow this is insane!”

jaehyun’s ears turned faint pink. he didn’t like the excessive attention he was getting from his friends, and he has no idea what the sudden outbursts were all about. “hear what, exactly?” he had a petulant expression and shifted his weight on one leg as he waited for the answer.

taeyong choked a giggle at his question. it was similar with yours when you innocently asked earlier. “jaehyun, he said the other half of the remix duet is y/n. you’ll dance with her tomorrow, and until the concert.”

his heart pumped so fast that he didn’t know how to react; whether it was due to obvious fact that he would see you again for the third time this week, or it was your name and his.. in the same sentence.

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if there was something you didn’t like to experience again in your life, that would be spraying your nose in public. good grief, and it had to happen nearby the boys. you shut your eyes closed at the sprinkly yet piercing shock rising up from the nostrils to your head. after few seconds of calming down, youngjoon pat your head as if that would bring you comfort. not really.

“i thought hana’s doing the nct dance duet?” you rubbed the small tears from the corners of your eyes, the striking pain still lingered around your senses a little.

he shrugged that his shoulders the action made you think he has something to do with the sudden change of plans. but assuming too much would ruin your mood and affect the way you dance later, so you let it slide for today.

“i’m your senior. you’ll do what i decided on,” he gave you his phone; the title of the track was one that you were told to choreograph. “it’s about time your monitoring days are over. anyway, you’ll dance with..” youngjoon trailed off himself.

you scanned the spacious venue to figure who he was referring to. none came into your mind until jaehyun walked past by you, and youngjoon pulled him close. “ah! with him!”

oh great, i’m dancing with mr. far-fetched.

staring off into space, taeyong appeared briefly in your peripheral, mouthing that jaehyun ‘volunteered’ for the interlude— which didn’t really add up why he would decide to do this performance when he hasn’t talked to you at all.

it was funny how friendly and warm jaehyun was to your fellow choreographers. he would smile freely and offer spare bottles or snacks. however, he looked stiff now and you craved for answers for strange his behaviour. still, you would be lying to yourself if you said he somehow made you.. squirmy, in a good way.

“let’s work well.” he heard you speak as you began to walk to the centre of the venue, jaehyun soon following you from behind.

he noticed the boys sitting on bleachers for a break, secretly snapping pictures to tease him later on. they mouthed and told him to talk— he was leaving you hanging and making a lady wait for a response was not a gentleman thing to do. he was stunned with your natural beauty and to think you were before him, just made him realise that this was the chance,

to get closer.

because remembering what taeyong told him yesterday, his friends told him to step up his game after it was revealed you found him good-looking. that alone should be enough for jaehyun to have the courage to hold a conversation with you. soon jaehyun cleared his throat, pulled his t-shirt collar and bit his inner gums. “yeah, likewise.” jaehyun cleared his throat. “this should be easy. where should we begin?”

“this is the track we’re dancing to.” you fished out your phone to let him listen to the new version, noticing how youngjoon nod at you.

the said man approached, whispering words that had you wanting to facepalm. a gasp escaped your lips and jaehyun raised a brow in curiosity. “i’m gonna kill her-” your face bubbled up in subtle anger.

jaehyun couldn’t hear much, the volume of the interlude was loud enough to make your voices inaudible. he wasn’t good at lip reading too, but he felt different when his eyes met with yours. a smile you wore earlier flattened, your positivity was still there, yet little did he know the changes made on the spot. youngjoon walked back to the mixer and made jaehyun’s hair a mess.

oh how the gods and goddesses of love must’ve liked shooting arrows continuously at his barely-comprehending mind. he almost ran out of breath hearing those words come out of your mouth and he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy for him.

because to him you were a beautiful distraction.

he recalled how you first met in the practice room during kick-it era; comfy clothes, a chill person with light make-up colours and pretty much his friends instantly introduced themselves. he wished that he was close to you as taeyong was. hopefully by the time the whole concert video was out, fans wouldn’t make a meme out of him given the fact that they did when mc-ing for broadcasts, he unknowingly created a gap between himself and other girl groups.

half an hour had passed and perhaps at this minute, you decided to take back what you said; that they were fast learners. proven you wrong, again. some of them were but jaehyun kept messing up and you were close to losing your patience. he couldn’t get things right. whenever you asked him if he was alright, he claimed to have gotten the hang of the steps taught earlier.

what a lie that was. so far he has stepped your shoes, bumped you though they were minor, and missed some moves. what made you teeth grit was that he looked like he wasn’t aware he did those at all.

ugh look at him. he can do better than this. if he doesn’t catch up, i’m requesting for another member to dance with me.

although he quickly memorised his solo part before dancing with you, the one second break in between have already made him forget the next step. he wasn’t in the right mind, he knew that much and was continuously questioned himself why he lost concentration. dancing with naeun was an exemption. she was a fellow mc, and even then he was shy to hold her hand. but this? this was different. this was more than just holding hands. this included skinship he has never done before, let alone executing intimate movements.

“pretend you’re pulling a lever as she flicks her hips side and back the second time. your hands should be by her hips.” youngjoon instructed, observing jaehyun’s shaky movements at the mirror reflection with reference from the video you sent him before. “good. jae, body wave to the left. y/n to the right and both swing your shoulders outwards..”

but if he wasn’t in the right mind, you were slowly getting there too. the more you were faced with jaehyun, the more you head became fuzzy. you could feel yourself heating up and this wasn’t due to the dance at all. “y/n, caress his jaw and grab him close.”

jaehyun gulped, trying not mind his friends and focus on the routine. “oi, step in closer.” your senior said, nudging the boy at the back. “i said closer like you’re hugging her- ah.” youngjoon realised he made a mistake. the boy froze again and his figure hovered you, the lights above blocked by his shocked expression.

you were falling back.

at this rate, both of you might cause the other an embarrassment of a lifetime. you braced for impact and it was written on your face. jaehyun saw how you shut your eyes. he was afraid of injuring you and somehow did the unthinkable; not even his friends expected that from him and were worried the big guy might crush you. he flipped you around the moment you both were inches above the ground, landing on him instead. “mfgh. ow.” you heard him groan, followed by few gasps and shocked voices.

hesitantly, you opened an eye and felt his palms around your torso. he too had a sour face from the fall. “that was close.” jaehyun squinted you take a peek of you and let out a sigh, which already brought guilt showering over you. “glad you’re not injured-”

“are you two alright?” hana with concern, asked as others repeated the same question.

you got up to sit on your calves in apology but soon spotted hana and youngjoon grinning like their plan worked. so they did have something to do with this. “are you an idiot??” you sighed with a drumming heart, taking jaehyun aback. “you’re performing in two days and it’s best if i’m injured than you are.”

“hey, you’re dancing too..” jaehyun chuckled though was surprised with your sudden fits and tone of your voice, standing up to lend a hand. “..so it’s best if you’re not injured.”

he waited for you to respond to his offer and as you took it, you felt a painful throb at the left ankle. tsk, must’ve twisted a bit it when we fell. dammit jaehyun. you cleared your throat loudly. it came out more of a growl in an annoyed tone. “look, i don’t think you get it. you have two days to practice and there‘s only one you. there are many dancers who can replace me-”

“no, i don’t think you get it. you’re the only one who knows the choreography. you’re basically irreplaceable.”

perhaps if this was told to you in a different sight, you would be squirmy and walking on flowers now. but this was nothing of it. you had to remain professional and set your personal feelings aside.

“not unless if another dancer perfects the dance in two days..” you trailed off.

“okay okay, stop the talking and continue where you both left off. a fall like that shouldn’t be a reason why you’re quarrelling.” youngjoon clapped his hands, moving you in front of jaehyun to start from the top.

when you said that, jaehyun was unsure why you were suddenly irritated. he held his position for the duet before speaking words that had you all fluttery again. “well, i’m dancing with you and staff said it’s final.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the following day, your ankle swelled overnight and informed that you would teach jaehyun and yeri, whom you’ve chosen to be his dance partner— the only idol available prior to nct 127’s performance. you crossed arms, observing how she got the steps quicker than jaehyun. “i want you to pop your hips a little more and match the timing with jaehyun. look at him intently before he holds your hand and you letting go.”

a pout then was seen on her face, hesitant and shy to do what you instructed. “i know it’s weird but i’d like you to think what you’re doing is art..” you tried to sound encouraging and later saw jaehyun taking a break at the far end of the stage. “just expressed in forms of movements.”

yeri stifled a laugh, feeling a lot better now she saw how you looked at her fellow label-mate. “yeah that’s not how jaehyun sees it-” she hushed immediately for speaking her thoughts. “y/n, how has he not learned his part yet? didn’t you teach him yesterday?”

“trust me i did! jaehyun’s a great artist but he just doesn’t seemed focused like i imagined him to be.” you took a bite from your sandwich, and yeri giggled that you unconsciously ignored the first half of her sentence. “i mean his solo was a 15-second one. i don’t see why he would forget the rest of the 35-seconds.”

she pursed her lips and took sight of taeyong winking at her, hinting your density with these situations. “well i think he actually got the steps now.” she arched her brows, pointing at the direction where jaehyun was at. “i heard he works hard alone- not that i’m offending you! you’re a great teacher and dancer!”

you smiled as you crumpled the plastic wrap and tossed it in the bin. “none taken, i kinda understand why he would be nervous around me.”

her ears perked up and pulled you to the side. “ooh ooh you do? what is it? i’m in for the tea!”

“i pull a resting face while i monitor them. probably why he found it hard to approach me. he thinks i’m the kind who doesn’t want to be disturbed.” you and yeri walked further off the stage to sit at the very front.

she held her chest hearing how awful you might’ve felt from him. “aw that’s bitter tea! y/n i’m sure he doesn’t think that way! it just takes time, might be longer than the other guys but you’ll get there.”

“get to where?”

“to being friends, and not only the professional level.”

at another side of it, taeyong and the rest heard the whole conversation. they shared looks knowing that they had to relay the news to jaehyun, who was staring at you giggling away with yeri. he met eyes with them and had a thin lipped smile, walking towards his friends. “you guys are weird, quit the creepy smiles.”

doyoung smacked the boy’s head for the density his currently possessed. “do you know the impression she has on you?”

“who? yeri?”

now it was taeil’s turn to smack his head. “y/n, you dimwit.” he sighed, looking at your silhouette under dimmed light then onto jaehyun. “she thinks you’re great..”

“but what you do around her seems to have shown you’re not interested in her.” jungwoo completed his sentence.

jaehyun never felt so attacked by both from them and the facts thrown upon him. “what? no! i am interested in her!”

“then tell her that. it isn’t that hard to say you’re interested in being friends.” haechan bent to release the tension in his muscles.

they wanted to encourage him a little more yet were then called to stand-by for another practice, with the interlude as the beginning. the signal from the staff have ordered for the lightings and music to be queued and readied.

mark nudged him in a strength that nearly made him fall. “hey, it’s about the right time you get closer to her,” he said in a low voice, highkey referring to your ruptured ligament on your ankle yet jaehyun seemed to have missed the point. “or else there’ll be no development.”

jaehyun chugged on his bottle in silence. “what do you mean?”

“youngjoon hyung said she’ll be on leave for weeks. i don’t know how long but if you don’t do anything now, you’ll continue to live up to the impression without even talking to her.” he explained and cringed afterwards feeling taeyong and johnny’s presence among them.

“show her that what she choreographed for us is not in vain, okay?” johnny made his hair a mess, before leaving the stage to go to where you were. the stage director said his count down. you cheered on yeri with a thumbs up and the music started its tune.

a/n: can’t seem to add song in between texts, so here’s a link instead ;-; let me know if it doesn’t work :3

it was your choreography up there, that was soon to be shown to the world, recorded to be part of the rundown and later burnt in c.d’s. you felt nervous at the fact if they would really execute what you wanted to show— the form of art you put your sweat upon even if it were just 50 seconds. when jaehyun began taking yeri’s hand after his solo part, leading her then mirroring her movements, your heart squeezed for no reason. they should be able to nail this part until the last beat of the song.

but as you clenched your chest to prevent your hands from shaking, taeyong saw your expression, convincing him enough that your reaction towards this said otherwise.

the boys usually held a small dinner a day prior to the concert, for a good show and performance. yuta decided to invite you to a japanese restaurant nearby so you wouldn’t feel left out or feel a lot distant than you already were with them.

you prepared your essentials before meeting them, the tapes of your ankle band came loose and you reached to adjust it as discomfort was all you felt for a while. jaehyun knelt down to sit across you, licking his dry lips to simmer the nervousness he felt inside. “do you need help?” he asked when you looked up to notice his presence. “or is there anything i can do to help?”

“y-yeah. it needs a proper tightness to it.” you gave a faint nod. he smiled and held your left leg to rest it on his thigh.

silence was slowly killing him, he had to admit that at least. now that you both conversed, what then? would this just be another acquaintance talk like yesterday, where it was only a mere one? nothing else to it? nothing happened?

jaehyun wanted to set the professionalism to the side, heed to his friends’ words and actually become close to you. perhaps put his feelings for you behind him for the meantime. “sorry.” he conceded, which made you confused for a second. “i’m sorry.”

“from the fall yesterday?” you stretched back that your palms were your support as he taped the band around. jaehyun shook his head, making you more confused. “then what are you apologising for?”

“for making you feel like i didn’t want to talk to you since you arrived.”

you stared at him, lips parting when you finally grasped his purpose. “oh.. that! it’s okay. i’m not expecting to be that level of friends immediately.” you chuckled awkwardly because it was a bit of a lie. i mean it took a while to be good friends with the others-”

“i’m sorry that i chose not to talk to you and it might have given you a bad impression of me.” he took your shoe so you could wear and head to the restaurant. “i guess it really is difficult to when i admire you a lot. heck i even asked my groupmates to tone down their knowledge about that because they have plans to embarrass-”

he jolted at the drop of your phone and your sigh, eyes wandering and wavering at it then looking to you. he helped you stand up and when he did too, you sighed heavier, flattened lips and a smile. “my anxiety convinced me that you hated me.” you confessed, finally letting out the worry that has been bothering you for months.

you shyly looked back at him and noticed how he was fidgety as you were. you couldn’t handle the visuals he has— even more now that he was close to you. so ethereal and magnetising.

maybe this was what the somersaults you’ve been feeling all the time. the unexplainable gut feeling that you’d be pulled into something you couldn’t handle?

it was him.

jaehyun panicked at the word. “h-hate? i don’t! not even a bit. i really like you!” he sputtered, then waving his hands to deny his feelings. “i mean like as in like you as person and your dedication to all this.”

“heh..” you both turned to the voice and taeyong smirked what he heard. “just tell her already, jae.” he pointed out, and you were left clueless as they shared the same brain cell. jaehyun’s eyes grew, hoping that his friend wouldn’t expose him, but taeyong answered him with his eyes, as if his voice was almost telepathic.

‘not confessing! you’re not at that intimacy level yet! tell y/n that you wanna hang with her!’

“i-i just wanna get closer to you?” he pondered, scratching his neck from the tornado of feelings whirling inside. “as friends, not as workmates or anything.” he waited for your response, staring in your magnetising orbs that lured him into something deeper.

“we would’ve been if we talked earlier on.” you smiled, hinting that you didn’t mind taking that step with him too. “but yeah, same here, jaehyun.”

jaehyun smiled genuinely at you for the first time, no awkwardness nor forcing himself to. “yes!” he had his fists up with ecstasy that you said his name, only to panic at the time. the dinner was already starting.

taeyong exhaled and swung his arms to let the blood flow normally. “ah, now that’s settled. let’s get to the restaurant too.”

you punched his arm and he flinched at the impact and hissed that it came out more of a question than a reaction you expected. “what you get for lying that you didn’t know anything.” you stuck a tongue out.

“and i’m supposed to pay the price for it?” he rubbed to sooth the pain. “not fair.”

walking to the backstage, you slowly lifted your foot to head down the stairs. “don’t worry, they’ll get their punches from me real soon.” you whistled.

jaehyun took your hand, supporting your weight at the same time. he couldn’t rush you in the state you’re in.

“what about jaehyun? he’s the one who did all this, and had the rest of us included.” taeyong jut his lips to point to the boy, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jackets. “he should get a punch too.”

“i’m not punching someone who wants to be closer to me. it’s not a good.. first impression.” you hid a laugh with flattened lips, jaehyun mirrored you and gave a flirty wink.

with that, he managed to magnetise you, just to make his gap with you,

closer.

#nct 127 #jaehyun oneshot #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #nct #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

To Be Continued - Part 6

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

In this chapter, the jealousy flare up is strong lol.

Word count: 2307

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The warning bells you had been hoping to ring sounded around your home a second time, and you stepped down from the tips of your toes that you hadn’t realised you were standing upon and ducked under Brian’s arm, escaping the almost kiss to see who was here.

You guessed it was your mother, knowing her impromptu visits often occurred at night. Or Lily was back from visiting her family and wanted to check in on you as she usually did. However, nothing prepared you for who was standing there.

“Su-Sungjin.”

“My other rival has arrived,” you heard Brian mumble under his breath as he stopped beside you.

The police officer looked at you and then Brian, suddenly growing reserved. He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, Y/N. I should have called ahead of visiting you. I just was worried about you and wanted to check if you were okay. It seems like you are.”

“She is,” Brian confirmed, and you glanced at him hopelessly before shunting him in the stomach and opening your door further.

“Please, come inside.”

“Oh, I don’t wish to intrude when you have a guest here already,” Sungjin mentioned, though he stepped over the threshold far too easily, eying Brian carefully before smiling down at you. “Did you find out about the stalker?”

“Stalker is a bit of a far-fetched term, don’t you think, Constable?” Brian answered before you could, and you noticed the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You knew that Brian, when protective of someone, wasn’t afraid to use his hands if necessary. Jumping in front of him with a light laugh, you then smiled up at Sungjin to try and break their staring war.

Thankfully, it worked. “Have you had dinner at all, Sungjin? I was just about to order in something and can add on another serving for you?”

“I’m sure the busy police officer doesn’t have time to stay for dinner.”

“Interesting that we don’t even know each other and you’re answering for me,” Sungjin rebutted, glowering at the man behind you. “I’m guessing Y/N told you about me?”

“It’s a long story,” you mentioned, wondering just how many more times you’d have to use that line when it came to Brian’s existence. “Dinner?”

“Would love to,” Sungjin agreed.

It was awkward as you waited for the delivery to arrive, glancing between the two men glaring at one another and then at the door hoping for salvation. Whilst you were excited to see Sungjin again, you hadn’t really thought this through.

After all, before he turned up on your doorstep, you were fully committed to kissing the man who firmly placed himself at your side. Then again, you had already day-dreamed about kissing Sungjin multiple times before Brian had even stepped out of your computer.

Your heart and mind were a mess, as was this dinner suggestion. You were relieved when the pizza turned up, diving towards the front door with your purse in hand. Paying the driver a tip, you then returned with the meal, placing it down on the table and spreading it out. “Let’s eat!”

“So, let’s hear about this long story,” Sungjin asked midway through your second piece of pizza, in which you choked upon. Both men thrust their drink towards you, and you looked at their offerings before meekly reaching for your own.

“The story,” Brian repeated, and Sungjin glanced at him curiously. “I guess you want to know who I am.”

“He’s my cousin’s friend!” you blurted out, and Brian gaped at you instantly. “Brian is just staying here because his flat is infested with bugs. You don’t do bugs, right, Brian?”

“Cousin’s friend. Bugs. Uh-huh.” Looking over at Sungjin’s surprised expression, Brian sighed heavily. “That’s me. Brian, the cousin’s friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that,” Sungjin mentioned, a small relieved smile crossing his lips. “Hopefully it gets fixed soon.”

“Actually, I think it’s going to take a really long time. I might just end up moving in here permanently,” Brian commented with a strained smile, and you clamped your eyes shut with frustration before trying to smile politely at Sungjin.

The police officer smiled warmly back at you and began to eat again.

Thankfully, he didn’t stay too long, happy enough to see you were okay and when you confirmed you hadn’t heard from your strange intruder since Brian had arrived, it placated him enough to head for your front door.

“Dinner was lovely,” he mentioned, and you laughed.

“It was an awkward disaster.”

Sungjin nodded, chuckling softly. “Next time, I’ll take you out somewhere, if you like.”

“Re-really?”

“Only if you’re free too.”

“She’s going to be reallyyyy busy writing the next story in her trilogy, right, Miss Writer?” Brian added into the conversation, and your mood dampened again with his arrival at your side. Slinging an arm over your shoulder for effect – which worked – Brian smiled all too happily. “So busy that I wonder if she’ll even have time to eat. You know, when she’s stuck up in her worlds, she often forgets to even feed herself. Lucky I’m here, right?”

“I’ll call you!” you managed to tell Sungjin with a wave, before shutting the front door and spinning around to face the remaining man. “Wow! I never expected you to be like this!”

“Surely, you did! I mean, you created me!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And now I’m your cousin’s friend too?! You’re so good with stories, Miss Writer. Do you know what is real life and what isn’t?”

“You’re impossible when you’re jealous.”

“And you invited your hero in here when you had no need to! What are you going to do? Have a moment with him in the kitchen too? Tell him how he’s the only cop for you?!”

“Your bitterness is unfair!” you warned, stalking over to the table to clean up the takeout containers. Brian joined you, stacking the plates and cups you had used and took them over to the sink. You worked in harmony in clearing up the mess before you realised what you had both done. Stopping to watch as Brian vigorously scrubbed at a cup, you reached over for his hand and ceased his actions altogether.

“I panicked.”

“About what exactly? That the man you’ve been pining over since you met him just recently was on your doorstep or the guy you created in your stories was about to kiss you for the first time?”

So it was about to happen. Gulping back your emotions from his admission of the fact, you nodded. “Of both.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Y/N? You can’t play us both.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“I guess that hero of yours makes me the villain for turning up, huh?” he muttered before rinsing off the cup and placing it to the side of the sink, turning on his heel for your guest bedroom and shut the door with a bang.

The following morning, you were the first one up. Binks met you in the living room, winding himself around your legs and mewling for his breakfast. Smiling, you picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the kitchen. Settling him down by his food mat, you then picked up his bowl and filled it with fresh food before placing it back in front of him. You watched as he ate happily, relaxing into the simple nature of your usual routine.

Without Sungjin or Brian, life sure had been just that – simple.

Yet, you knew you wanted to fill the loneliness in your heart also. It had taken you some time to fall asleep last night, staring at the screen of your laptop at the words To Be Continued over and over. Wondering why Brian kept changing it to that instead of The End had plagued your thoughts all night long.

You had been hoping to meet him in the kitchen for breakfast and discuss it with him but you had gotten up before him. Waiting for over twenty minutes, and making as much noise as you could without being too rude, you finally walked down to the room and rapped your knuckles over the door. “Brian, can I come in?”

No answer.

Knocking a little louder this time, you repeated your question to receive, once more, silence in return. Unlatching the door, you stepped inside to find it empty of his presence.

It all hit you then like a tonne of bricks, and you went through your house from room to room in a blind panic, wondering where he had gone. Finding yourself in your office, you opened the lid to your laptop and hurried to turn it on, waiting to sign in to your account before dashing into your files for your latest story. Opening it, you bounced on the spot as your fears got heightened.

What if Brian had gone back into his world without even saying goodbye?!

You had definitely turned off the device last night before bed, but could he have turned it on and headed back into Captivated? Would he even remember you if he had?

After all the thoughts of insanity you had endured with his sudden arrival in your life, you were now equally despairing his departure. You hadn’t even kissed him yet! Let alone shared a day with him doing all the things you wanted to do. How could he just leave you like this –

“Y/N?”

Spinning around to find Brian behind you in exercise clothes and sweating from a morning run, you let go of your laptop and lurched towards him, wrapping your arms firmly around his waist. Whilst he immediately held your distraught body, he chuckled a little also. “I just went for a run. I don’t care what you say about me, even guys like me stink when we sweat.”

“You’re still here!”

“Of course, I am. Where did you think I was?” Brian asked, and when your sniffling turned to sobs, Brian attempted to pull you away from his body but you gripped on tighter. “You thought I had gone back into the story?”

“What else was I meant to think when you weren’t here, and there was no note?! Especially after last night-”

“That’s why I went for a run, to clear my head,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a note. I thought you would sleep in like usual.”

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, shaking your head, your tears spreading around the room and landing upon him in the process. “I shouldn’t be like this over you. I mean, I feel like I’ve known you forever yet you’ve only been here a couple of days and you’re right, I should be more clear with Sungjin, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

Your sentence was caught against his mouth, swift as it pressed upon yours, did it leave. Brian, evidently surprised at his attempt to stop your fevered rambling, cleared his throat before staring down at you for your reaction.

It only took you a second to think about it before you stretched up and coveted his mouth with yours. Unlike his quick peck, you moved in with the intention of savouring this one. Slowly, your mouths pressed together, tasting one another. He was slightly salty, due to the way his skin has perspired from his run and yet you didn’t care, pressing into his body further the longer your lips were attached to his. Your mind swirled with desire, and your heart thumped erratically as a result.

You were kissing Brian Kang.

When writing kissing scenes with him and Charli, albeit there had only been three so far, you had struggled. Just how would Brian Kang be as a kisser? No matter how much you had imagined his style or the way he would caress Charli, this moment in time was unlike anything you had penned. This was an entirely new feeling.

There was a hunger driving his lips now, his hands firmly taking purchase of your hips, drawing you in closer, making you his as much as you had made him yours. The taste to him changed, heating up with how his tongue dipped behind your teeth to greet yours, as if this exchange was something you two had done before. Kissing Brian was new, and yet it felt as if you had been doing it all your life. You were certain you could continue to keep kissing him as well, had you no need for air. However, you pulled away then, gasping in deep breaths, your mind and eyes blown from the experience.

Brian appeared just as dishevelled.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologise for kissing me,” Brian murmured, running his thumb over your now swollen lips. He smiled giddily before looking back at you with bright eyes. “Don’t ever apologise for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“That was some kiss,” he told you, cupping your cheek within his hand. Leaning in closer again, you felt your breath heighten, moistening your lips for him to take them hostage again. However, he merely kissed your cheek before letting you go entirely. “I’m going to have to watch myself around you, Miss Writer. Our story’s only just begun, and we’re already kissing one another. You’re more dangerous than I thought you’d be for my heart.”

“Why did I create you to say lines like that?!” you groaned as Brian slipped away from you and headed down the hallway towards your bathroom. Sticking your head around the corner to watch his departure, Brian stopped outside the door and glanced back at you, biting his lip before shaking his head and stepped into the bathroom to shower from his run.

Leaning against the threshold for support, you held your heart again.

It was beating in tune for him now.

_________________

Part 7

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#kwritersworldnet #young k #young k fiction #young k fluff #young k romance #young k au #day6 #day6 fiction #day6 fanfic #day6 fluff #day6 romance #day6 au #pwyl; to be continued #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop romance

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aerinsfables · 3 years ago

Note

📝7️⃣🙇‍♀️

:) :)

Flower Shop AU, part 7 below.

Read part 6 here!

---

That had to have been one of the most energetic games of volleyball Bracken had ever been involved with in his life. Granted, he hadn’t actually played volleyball since high school PE classes, but still. The amount of banter which had gone between mostly Seth and Warren had been quite amusing to observe, and when Tanu joined in on the teasing, it became even funnier.

Warren had claimed a partnership with Tanu as soon as he reached the net, which left Seth with Bracken; a mistake, Bracken thought, which Warren would not soon forget. Seth and Bracken were a pretty formidable team, and they found their balance with one another very quickly. Bracken had always possessed a natural talent of quick reflexes and good coordination, and it appeared that Seth was similarly inclined. They worked well together. Tanu and Warren were both also good at the game, but were not always on the same page with each other, which led to Warren diving into Tanu’s shins once and Tanu knocking heads with Warren another time.

He had to admit, this was nice. The camaraderie, the friendly teasing and banter, the smiles and obvious love each of these people held for one another… it was nice.

Perhaps Father had had a point about it being time for Bracken to come out of his shell.

“20-17,” Seth announced as he served the ball across the net. Warren returned it, Bracken popped it over again, and the ball was passed back and forth several times before Tanu just barely missed it and the ball landed on his side of the court.

“Boo,” Vanessa yelled from where she sat. “Warren, I thought you said you were going to kick Seth’s butt.”

“Working on it,” Warren replied. Tanu fetched the ball and tossed it back over to Seth so he could serve it again.

“You’re not doing a great job,” she replied.

Warren turned around and pointed at her. “Why don’t you come join us, then, Miss I-Can-Do-Anything-Better-Than-You?”

Vanessa’s eyes narrowed and she turned to the others who were still around the unlit fire pit. “Anyone else want to join in? Mara? Dale? Kendra?”

Kendra started to shake her head no, but Dale stood up and planted a hand on her shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “Some exercise will do you good. Besides, we can’t let them think they’re better than we are, now, can we?”

A semi-smile crossed Kendra’s face, and she stood up. Dale gave her a quick hug and walked toward the net with his arm around her shoulders. Vanessa and Mara followed behind them.

“Who’s joining whose team?” Seth asked.

“I’m with Warren and Tanu,” Vanessa announced. “Mara’s with me.”

“That leaves us with Seth and Bracken,” Dale said. “My heart is broken, Vanessa. I thought you loved me.”

“Oh, I do, sweetheart. Somebody has to babysit your brother, though.”

“I do not need babysitting.”

“Sure looked like it from where I was sitting,” Vanessa replied.

Bracken deeply enjoyed all of the playfulness around him. Kendra had been correct when she’d told him that her family was a lively bunch.

“Welcome to our normal,” Kendra mumbled as she walked over to him. She wore a tired smile on her face.

“I am very entertained,” he admitted. “Are you alright?”

She replied with a sort of half shrug. “I don’t really feel like playing volleyball right now, but Dale is right. We have to kick Warren’s butt.”

Seth gave Kendra an enthusiastic grin and called to the other side of the net. “Did you hear that? Kendra just said we’re gonna cream you all.”

“Kendra should put her money where her mouth is,” Warren retorted. “Serve the ball, Seth!”

—————-

Lunch was ready before their game ended, and all parties had opted for food in lieu of continuing to play. Both teams had achieved roughly the same score up to that point, which was pretty exhilarating; it had been a very long time since Bracken had played a competitive sport, and he’d enjoyed the experience.

His phone alerted him to a new text message while everyone was eating lunch and chatting with one another. He gave it a quick glance, typed out a reply, sent his message and placed it back in his pocket.

“Is everything okay?” Kendra asked. She sat opposite from him at one of the picnic tables which had been set up on the deck. Scott and Marla shared this particular table, and the other attendees sat at additional ones.

“Yes, everything’s fine. One of the farms my family purchases a lot of flowers from likes to set up stalls at a local farmer’s market on Saturdays, and with Mother’s Day coming up in a couple weeks, they’ve asked for help with creating bouquets that weekend. It’s something I’ve helped them with for the past few years,” he explained.

“Which market?” Scott asked.

“It’s downtown,” Bracken replied. “Not too far from the flower shop and Warren and Dale’s café.”

“Oh, the one on 2nd Street?” Marla asked. “I like to go there to buy fresh produce. I don’t remember seeing you there before, though.”

“I usually only help them on Mother’s Day weekend,” Bracken explained. “Otherwise, I work in the shop on Saturdays.”

“Which farm is it?” Marla asked. “There are two or three different ones I can think of that sell flowers every weekend.”

“Bluebell,” Bracken said. “They usually have two or three stands in front of their tables where they put finished bouquets for customers to choose from, and their event tent is a light blue. It’s a family-run business as well. The parents and I put bouquets together all morning while the other son and their daughter handle the money and customer service part.”

“Interesting,” Scott stated. “I’m guessing their stall is pretty busy that particular weekend.”

Bracken nodded. “It’s their busiest day. Bouquets are purchased as quickly as they’re made. It’s typically a pretty busy weekend for our shop, as well, but the difference is that my family’s store receives probably 95% of our orders in advance of the holiday, whereas Bluebell creates and sells on the spot. It’s easy for my parents to handle the few customers who pop in that Saturday for quick arrangements. In exchange for our help here and there, Bluebell offers discounts to my family on the flowers we purchase from them.”

“A business move,” Kendra supplied.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We’ve worked with them for many years now. They’re practically family at this point.”

“Well. We might have to come visit you that weekend, then,” Marla said with a smile. “I don’t usually buy flowers, but it might be nice to grab a bouquet for once.”

“I buy you flowers,” Scott corrected. He sounded perhaps a little wounded in Bracken’s opinion.

Marla waved her hand at Scott. “I know, dear. I meant that I don’t usually buy flowers,” she said. “It might be nice to choose a bouquet for myself.”

Ruth walked up to their table and patted Scott’s shoulder. “Elise is here,” she announced. “She brought an assortment of little desserts. You four should go get some before Seth finds out.” Scott and Marla laughed and followed Ruth back inside the house.

Bracken looked up as another woman, presumably Elise, stepped out onto the back porch. She wore a loose-fitting tank top which showed off the tattoos on her upper arms, a studded nose ring in one nostril, and her hair was a stylish undercut on one side of her head. He remembered what Kendra had told him about Elise dating Mara, and he found it interesting that such different people were attracted to one another. Mara was much more conservative in appearance, and also seemed a little standoffish (at least to him, anyway), whereas Elise exuded very welcoming vibes.

Kendra smiled when she saw her. “Elise!” she called. She stood up and embraced her.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Elise said. “How are you doing?”

Kendra shrugged. “I’m fine. How are you? You look gorgeous. I love your hair!”

“Awww, thanks,” she replied. “It’s not totally done yet. I want to get it dyed, but haven’t decided on which color I want. Maybe orange.” She made eye contact with Bracken. “I’m Elise,” she said, and held out her hand to him in introduction.

“I’m Bracken,” he replied as he also stood up and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” she replied. She quickly looked him up and down, then whispered into Kendra’s ear loudly enough for him to hear, “Where’d you find this handsome man?”

His face started to warm up at her words, and he averted his gaze to the table. It wasn’t necessarily uncommon for people to remark on his appearance, but he felt a little awkward about it whenever it happened.

Kendra cleared her throat. “Bracken made the bouquet I sent you a picture of last week. He’s one of the florists from the shop across the street from Warren and Dale’s place.”

“A man with creativity and a little sass, hmm? I approve.” Elise nodded her head. She then laughed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird. Mostly. If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to go hug the rest of my people.” She bounced on the balls of her feet a couple of times before she gave Kendra one more hug and ran off toward her girlfriend.

A small laugh escaped from Kendra, and a fleeting thought of how pretty her genuine smile was ran through Bracken’s head. “She seems nice,” he said.

“She is,” Kendra replied. “She’s like a favorite aunt, or cousin.”

“Elise brought dessert!” Seth shouted from the other side of the deck. He let out a loud whoop of excitement and ran for the kitchen. Bracken laughed.

“Grandma was serious about getting some before Seth takes it all,” Kendra warned.

Bracken shrugged. “It won’t hurt me to forego a little sugar. I don’t mind. Today.” He smiled. “Would you like some? I can fight him for a piece of cake for you.”

That elicited another genuine laugh from her, which broadened his own smile. “Thank you, but I’ve eaten roughly my weight in ice cream this week and should probably refrain from further sugar consumption as well.”

He wanted to hug her, but wasn’t sure if she’d appreciate it. Instead, he placed one hand on her shoulder and said, “He doesn’t deserve your tears.”

Kendra’s face reddened and she looked like she might suddenly start to cry. She turned toward the lawn and hugged herself, but didn’t otherwise respond.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he immediately apologized, distressed at the thought that he might’ve caused her distress.

She waved a hand at him. “Not your fault,” she said. “It doesn’t take much these days. You’re right, I know you’re right, but I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay to be sad,” he replied. “It’s okay to be angry, hurt, and upset, too.”

Kendra looked back at him with watery eyes. “Are you a therapist?” she teased with a weak smile.

He laughed a little. “I have four sisters, remember?”

“Right,” she giggled. “I feel so crazy right now. One minute I’m laughing, the next I’m crying, and now I’m laughing again.”

“Sounds pretty normal to me,” he said. “I don’t think I’d be much better off if our situations were reversed.”

She looked down at her feet with a soft smile. “Thanks.”

Vanessa walked up at that moment and wrapped an arm around Kendra’s shoulders, then glowered at Bracken. “Is he bothering you?” she asked Kendra while clearly staring at him.

“No,” Kendra said. “I’m just an emotional wreck.”

A short ‘hmm’ was uttered by Vanessa, who continued to glare at Bracken.

Her crystal clear and plain-as-day mistrust and what felt like hatred was really quite uncomfortable to endure. Before he had the chance to ask her what her severe dislike of him was founded on, seeing as they’d just barely met, Warren stopped by and pulled Vanessa away from Kendra.

“There you are,” he said. “I was looking for you. Elise was just telling some story about a ridiculous customer of yours from the other day. Why didn’t you tell me about him? The dude who insisted on misspelling a word in his tattoo design, then got mad when it turned out misspelled on his skin?”

She rolled her eyes. “That was Elise’s customer,” she corrected.

“My bad. Maybe you should come over and make sure I understand the other stories she’s telling.”

A sigh escaped her. “I know what you’re doing,” she said to Warren. She squeezed Kendra again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m alright,” Kendra replied. “Bracken is being kind.”

“If you’re sure,” Vanessa answered. “You know where to find me.” She narrowed her eyes at Bracken once more, who was starting to feel more than a little annoyed by her attitude.

“I’m watching you,” she told him.

Bracken sent her what he hoped was his best unimpressed expression.

Vanessa shook her head at him, then turned toward Warren. “Go ahead, take my overbearing ass away from here.”

Warren shot an apologetic look at Bracken before he escorted Vanessa back toward Elise, Mara, Dale and Tanu.

“She’s been a little protective of me this week,” Kendra explained. “Sorry about that.”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay. She doesn’t have to like me. I would’ve appreciated a chance for her to get to know me before deciding that she hates me, but that’s her problem, not mine. I can’t please everyone.”

Kendra blinked. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“If she hated you, she would’ve sent you back to your car and told you to never come back.”

Bracken shrugged his shoulders again. “It’s alright. I can deal with being disliked. I just wish I knew what I’d done to warrant it.”

“You didn’t do anything. She’s just being protective,” Kendra said. “I promise.”

He decided that he didn’t want to carry that particular subject any further. “Understood.”

An awkward silence fell between them for a few moments, and then Seth reappeared on the deck from the kitchen with a small plate stacked high with an assortment of mini desserts. He made his way over to them, apparently unaware of what had just happened with Vanessa, and announced, “She brought cheesecakes and brownies.”

“Did you take them all?” Kendra asked as she gestured toward his plate.

“There’s some left,” he replied. “I couldn’t stack anymore on top without them falling over.”

“Sugar addict,” Kendra teased.

Seth faked being wounded in his chest. “Kendra. My sister. You’ve hurt me.”

“Do you deny it?”

“No.”

“Well then, there you go.”

“I can’t help it,” Seth said as he chewed on one of the brownies. “Sugar is delicious.”

Bracken and Kendra both nodded their heads, then Kendra stole one of the tiny cheesecakes from Seth’s plate and popped it into her mouth.

“Hey!” Seth protested. “Get your own!”

“I can’t help it,” she replied. “Sugar is delicious.”

Bracken laughed as Seth held his plate over his head while Kendra also laughed and tried to reach it.

——

Read part 8 here!

#fablehaven #brackendra #aerinm writes #anonymous #asks #this is rapidly spinning out of control my dudes #whyyyyyyy do i do this to myself

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petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

my story for the @bakudekubigbang w/artist @kurisutythehero

Summary: Kitsune yokai Midoriya Izuku is a simple shrine fox protecting the Tamaki-jinjja shrine as well as the surrounding forest. One day he comes across hunters who dare to poach in his forest along with an injured wolf they'd shot. But after nursing this wolf back to health, Izuku learns... he's a yokai too.

Tags: fantasy AU, Japanese folklore, Sex, A/B/O elements, marking, elemental magic. Kitsune & Okami.

Ch 1 of 4 to be posted in completion between now and New Years 😊 and when the artist posts I’ll add a link into the story.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352196

The loud cry of a wolf rings out through the sacred forest surrounding Tamaki-jinjja shrine. It’s spirit keeper, a kitsune fox yokai named Izuku Midoriya looks out, training his ears towards the direction it had come from. A second guttural growl pierces his ears causing him to flinch; the animal was in pain, followed by the fainter sound of male human voices. How dare! Hunters in his forest and so close to the shrine! Furious, the kitsune races through the dense brush using his keen senses to track the hunter’s movements. They would pay dearly for coming here.

In the 1100 hundred years since the shrine had been created, a kitsune yokai has protected it and all those that sought to gain enlightenment through Shugendo. Nature was sacred to these mountain worshipers and they believed that deities could be communed with there. The forest surrounding Mount Tamaki was precious to Midoriya and he didn’t care if a wolf could provide meat for the humans, they needed to leave this place in peace! He was only 200 years into this job, and he would be damned if he let a bunch of hunter’s ruin Tamaki’s tranquility.

The men were traipsing through the brush as well searching for the wolf. Midoriya could hear them talking now, the animal had been hit by an arrow twice but managed to escape into the dense underbrush. He needed to be careful, scare these men away and not become a victim too, but his cleaver and somewhat devious nature was one of the reasons a fox yokai guarded the temple. His two-tails swish excitedly as he survey’s what turns out to be only two men, one with a bow and the other brandishing a large broad-bladed knife. Based on their attire, he assumed they were most likely just peasants from a nearby village at the base of the mountain.

He needed to work quickly for the stench of blood rang true in the air. The wolf was definitely hit and bleeding badly enough for its smell to permeate the surrounding area. Midoriya turns on his invisibility magic and moves in to where the hunters would be able to see him.

“Who dares to disturb this sacred forest! We will not allow you to hunt within our territory!”

“What the hell is that?!” Midoriya sees the hunters ready their weapons and frantically scan the area. The one who’d asked the question has their bow knocked and raised.

“This land is protected by the spirit guardians of Mount Tamaki.” Midoriya sends out a blast of spiritual, blue-flamed fox fire close to the men as a warning. “Leave now and never come back or face the wrath of the kami!!”

“I told you this place was inhabited by spirits!” The second man now speaks up, punching his friend in the shoulder. “That’s why no one hunts up here, baka!”

“I don’t believe in stupid spirits!”

‘Oh, you don’t huh?’ Midoriya sends out another blast of fire this time hitting the man’s bow. The man screams and drops the weapon as the fire quickly consumes it. He takes off without a second look, running along with his friend, and heading down the mountain. “Good riddance,” the kitsune grins and turns off his invisibility. Now to find the wolf.

It couldn’t have made it very far. He tracks the trails of blood and scent through the forest for about one hundred feet back toward the side of the mountain. Perhaps it was heading for a cave? But beneath one of the ancient cedar trees, he finds the wolf barely clinging to life. One arrow had hit it in a hind leg, and the other the chest area. The frightened wolf growls at him.

“Don’t be afraid,” Midoriya shuts off his cloaking magic to show the wolf he was no ordinary human. “I am the spirit guardian of the mountain and shrine. I can help you.” He tries to reach out, but the wolf continues with a low growl. “You will not survive unless we take care of those wounds.” Frankly, until he inspected the chest wound, he wouldn’t know for sure. He lowers his ears to show concern, “please let me help you. It is my duty to care for this forest and its inhabitants and I do not want to see any die.”

Now that he was up close, this wolf was unusual for the area with its yellowish fur and red eyes. Japanese wolves were usually a brownish gray color. He kneels next to it and tries again to reach out his hand, very slowly, allowing the wolf to take in his scent. The wolf’s heartbeat was strangely calmer than he expected it to be, shouldn’t it be beating rapidly? But just as Midoriya lowers his hand again, the wolf tries to get up and run. It makes it only a few feet before collapsing with a pained cry.

The kitsune rushes over and drops next to the wolf with tears building in his eyes, its tail flicking with agitation. “Please let me help you!” He reaches for the wolf, but this time, it growls low, and turns its head away, communicating its intention not to stop him.

Midoriya assesses the wolf to determine the best way to get it back to the shrine. He would have to carry it as gently as he could. The terrain shouldn’t be too difficult for him, but ugh, it would be so much easier if he had more powers. Those came with age and experience, and at 450 years old, he was still young in the eyes of other yokai. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers as he picks the wolf up, knowing the jostling and shifting of its body would cause more pain. It shrieks, but at least doesn’t try to bite.

He takes the wolf to his part of the temple, a section reserved only for the spirit guardian where the human priests are forbidden from entering. There he creates a simple make-shift bed and begins collecting medicinal herbs to treat the wounds. The monks keep many on hand in case lost or injured travelers are found. Midoriya places a few drops of Hokuto mint into the wolfs mouth, hoping it will have the same pain killing effects on an animal as it does for humans.

“This will hurt, so I am binding your mouth and limbs to keep you from injuring yourself or me,” Midoriya explains as he wraps a strip of fabric around the animal’s mouth. “I need to remove the arrow.” Luckily, based on what he saw from the hunters, they were only using plain pointed sticks rather than full arrow heads. If he’d had to dig out arrow heads, things would be a lot more complicated.

“Okay guy, brace yourself,” he warns regardless if the wolf understood him or not. But when the wolf looks away and locks the muscles its jaw, Midoriya realizes that somehow it understood. Odd, but nevertheless a minor mental note is made for later.

Using his sharp claws, the kitsune slices through the skin where the arrow has lodged itself to make freeing it a smoother transition. Surprisingly, the wolf’s body only reacts with a slight tremor and nothing more. Animals often refrained from showing weakness, but this was strange. Shoving that intrigue to the back of his mind, Midoriya focuses on his task, removing the two arrows and using various medicinal rubs to stem the blood loss. He stitches up the wound’s gaps, then wraps bandages around the area to keep infection to a minimal.

He sits back on his haunches, twin tails flickering as he gauges the animal. “You’ll need time to heal Mr. wolf, but you can stay here where no one will bother you. I’ll have to change the ointments and bandages daily, and hopefully you’ll be back to new in no time. Until the flesh mends and the stitches are no longer required, you shouldn’t move around.”

The wolf just stares at him but makes no movement to get up from where it lay.

Midoriya smiles and chuckles, “It’s so weird that you understand me. Stay here, I’ll fetch you some food and water, you must be hungry.” Maybe it was a part of his magic that allowed animals to understand him. Wouldn’t it work both ways if that was the case? Again, he pushes the idea to the back of his mind for now. He places a bowl of water next to the wolf along with some fresh meat and goes back to his shrine duties, promising to check on him through the day.

He swore every time he entered the room where the wolf lay, it’s ruby red eyes would track his movements like a predator stalking its prey. No sounds, no head movement, just the eyes. If it was a human, Midoriya would have sworn it was glaring at him. He didn’t blame the wolf for being wary. All across Japan, wolves were slowly being hunted, and in some areas to extinction. Well, as long as there was a forest guardian, they would do their best to protect this area.

“Not hungry?” the kitsune questions the wolf when he sees the food untouched. “Does it hurt to eat? You really should put something in your stomach,” he holds the bowl closer, “to help you keep up your strength.” But the wolf doesn’t make a move. “Here,” he picks up a piece of meat and holds it next to the animals mouth, “please?”

After a couple of seconds, the wolf blows out a puff of air as if it was huffing in annoyance but takes the meat gently from Midoriya’s hand. Did it roll it’s eyes at him? Regardless, the kitsune repeats the action, and again the wolf takes the meat. Well at least this was working. He continues to feed the wolf until all the meat was gone, then holds the bowl of water close enough to the animal’s mouth so it can lap up the liquid.

“I’m going to check your wounds, okay? To make sure it looks okay.” Midoriya feeds the wolf a few drops of the mint once more, enough to last him the night. He then slowly unwraps the bandages, careful not to pull in the areas where the drying blood has stuck to the wounds.

The wolf flinches and growls lightly when he tugs to get the last of the stuck areas off. “Sorry, sorry!” the kitsune flinches too, ears drooping. He’s never endured such a wound before, so he couldn’t even imagine what kind of pain the animal might be in. When the wolf settles down, Midoriya leans closer to inspect the flesh. There was a bit of bruising, but the area was a nice pink color indicating the blood flow was good and working on healing. So far, so good, no indication of infection, and the bleeding had stopped.

He smiles at the wolf, “you’re on the road to recovery my friend.” After removing the old bandages and placing them to the side, he readies fresh ones. He wipes off the old honey and ointments gently with a wet cloth, then pats the area dry. Then he applies a new coat of medicinal ointments and honey, explaining as he goes along. “I know, it probably seems weird right?” he chuckles, “but the honey helps against infection.” The kitsune finishes securing the new bandages and sits back to admire his handywork; not bad for his first time tending to a wounded creature.

“Are you comfortable mister wolf? Hmm, you know I should give you a name.” He taps his chin, “how about Akaime?” The animal blows a deep puff of air at him and growls. “No? Okay, um, what about Tsuyoshi?” Again, the wolf just stares at him looking irritated. “Alright fine, how about Ryota since you’re such a strong one.” The wolf puts his head back down. Midoriya couldn’t tell if the wolf was annoyed, gave up, or really didn’t care. “I’m just gonna call you Ryota then.” He bundles up the old linen to wash and stands up, “I’ll see you in the morning Ryota. Good night. Oh,” he turns back around and smiles, “I’m Izuku by the way.”

He finishes tidying up, depositing the soiled linens into the laundry pile, washing the food bowl, and putting away the medicine jars. After one last look at the wolf who appeared to be asleep, Midoriya grabs his candlelight and moves into an adjacent room to set up his futon bedding. It had been a tiring, but exciting day for sure and he was ready to get some sleep.

Part of him wondered if the wolf had been waiting until the cover of darkness to sneak away in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t surprise him considering it was a wild animal that shouldn’t be very comfortable around a human establishment. But then again, in its condition Midoriya also knew it wouldn’t be able to get away very quietly. Judging from the fact it hadn’t moved at all through the day, not even to adjust its position, the wolf had to still be in a lot of pain.

‘I wonder if there are other wolves in the area?’ These animals tended to live in packs, but where was Ryotas? It wasn’t impossible for it to be a lone wolf, just odd if it was. Maybe because he looks very different from the others… In fact, why was it a different color? Is there something special about it? All the questions that had concerned him were coming back up as he tried to get to sleep, but probably the biggest one was why did it seem like the wolf understood what he was saying? ‘I’ll probably never get an answer,’ considering the animal couldn’t talk.

Guess it can’t be helped.

As the week went by, each day Midoriya would dutifully care for the wolf’s injuries, making sure it was fed, and carrying it outside whenever it needed to take care of bodily functions. It was a strange little relationship that by the second day, the monks were aware of the animals presence in the shrine because the kitsune required extra meats and supplies. Not that they questioned anything, nor would they dare to venture too close, but it was unusual.

Slowly but surely, the wolf was getting better. By the end of the week, it could limp outside to do its own business, and yet would still return to the bed Midoriya had made for it. This only added to the kitsune’s confusion, confirming that the animal truly understood it was being cared for. Confused, but it brought a smile to his face to know he was doing something truly good. Under his tender care the wound was almost fully closed up and soon the wolf would be able to return to the wild good as new.

But another part of him wasn’t happy about that idea. It was almost a full two weeks since the day he’d saved Ryota from those hunters and the wolf was becoming like a roommate to the kitsune. Even though the animal couldn’t talk back, it didn’t stop the forest spirit from conversing with it, sharing things that happen at the shrine or just things about himself. It passed the lonely hours away especially in the evenings and he looked forward to hanging out with the wolf once his shrine duties were finished. He couldn’t tell for sure and yet it felt to him as if the wolf was tolerating it... maybe even enjoying the company too? Yeah… he was sure gonna miss his new friend when it left.

“Well, Ryota,” Midoriya sits back after unwrapping the last bandage, “you’re pretty much all healed up now.” A bit of moisture gathers in his eyes. “You could go home now, wherever home may be.”

The wolf looks at where the injury had been as if inspecting it for itself, giving it a sniff, before looking back to the kitsune. After a minute, it stands up, stretches it’s body and legs, then bolts out of the door into the night.

Midoriya hangs his head, wiping the fresh tears away. Knowing this day was coming didn’t make it any easier, but hey, ‘you did a great job,’ he assures himself, ‘you saved that wolf.’ “I know,” his voice murmurs out to no one but the empty room. Maybe he’ll see the wolf around again. “Goodbye, Ryota.” ‘I’ll miss you.’

For the rest of the night, Midoriya putters around through his normal routine. He disassembles the makeshift bed the wolf used while under the kitsune’s care and disposes of the soiled linens. When he was finished cleaning up, it was as if Ryota had never been there at all. With a heavy heart, Midoriya climbs into his own bed and closes his eyes. Tomorrow will be a new day. It was time he resumed his normal life once more.

“Mmm, warm…” Midoriya mumbles and wraps his arms around the furry warm body. His mind was only semi lucid and certain it was a dream, but a really amazing one for Ryota had come back and curled up next to him in his bed. “Missed you…”

When he opens his eyes the next morning, Midoriya yawns and stretches, reaching out but finding nothing. He frowns, it really was just a dream that felt so real! Wait a minute? The kitsune sniffs at the bedding. It smelled like Ryota! The wolf had come back in the night but left before he woke up. Why had it done that? This wolf brought about a plethora of unanswered questions for the kitsune and even after two weeks he really knew nothing.

Days turn to weeks as a strange new routine takes root between the kitsune and the wolf. On random nights the wolf would return after Midoriya has gone to sleep to curl up with him in bed. There was no rhyme or reason to these visits. Sometimes the wolf would sneak in for several nights in a row while at other times it would disappear for many days. Always waiting for him to be asleep and always gone by morning, leaving only his scent and the lingering warmth he’d brought to the kitsune. It was odd to say the least, like having a ghost for a pet.

Life at the shrine could get lonely at times, so these gestures filled Midoriya’s heart with happiness. He hoped Ryota was doing it because he cared for the kitsune. Sort of like accepting him into its pack. His only wish was that it would show itself when he was awake. So many nights would go by with Midoriya’s last thoughts centered around the wolf and those ruby red eyes that almost peered into your soul.

But this wasn’t the only change in their relationship.

Because of the shrines location set away from urban settlements and knowing that visitors would leave money in the offering box, wayward robbers would occasionally pass through and break into the prayer box. It happened so infrequently, that Midoriya and the priests didn’t try to stop them because it would require someone to be on guard all night, every night. All that would remain was a broken box empty of its contents.

“What’s this?” Midoriya surveys the broken offering box laying on the ground that morning. It appeared to have been cracked open, but the money was still in it. He looks around curiously and notes a few more signs of the intended robbery. The gravel area next to the box was disturbed as if a scuffle had taken place as well as finding several drops of blood still tacky to the touch along the stone walkway leading away from the shrine.

Someone or something had evidently thwarted the robbery. The kitsune tips his nose to the air scenting for any other traces, then follows it to a nearby shrub. There he finds a tuft of yellowish blonde fur stuck to the brush. “Ryota?” Midoriya looks around even though the wolf’s scent was no longer in the immediate vicinity. Had the wolf stopped the robbery? And where were the robbers? He hoped the wolf had not killed them, for even though what they did was wrong, he didn’t believe in killing unless absolutely necessary.

A part of him wanted to search for his missing friend, but his duties at the shrine were more important for now. He washes the blood off the stone walkway, smooths back out the gravel of the garden, and takes the offering box to his rooms to fix. Ryota’s scent was definitely on the box, so it must have touched it at some point during the fight. Was this the wolfs way of paying him back for his kindness? If it was such a gesture, the kitsune was appreciative and so were the priests.

Almost a month later, a similar incident is discovered bright and early one morning. Another broken offering box, another thwarted robbery. This time the thief had gotten farther than the last one. There were coins scattered across the stone walkway, but the bulk of it remained inside the vessel. To Midoriya, it looked as if the box had been dropped, perhaps when the savior had caught the robber in the act. He gathers up all the coins, placing them back into the box before taking it back to his room to fix, while another priest takes care of cleaning up the area.

As he works on fixing the wooden container, Midoriya can’t help but think about what’s been going on. He was certain that Ryota had snuck into his room last night… and come to think of it, the wolf had been here during the previous robbery as well. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, only that it made the thwarted robberies easier on the wolf to deal with. “Maybe that’s why he comes here?” He thinks out loud. “So, he can be closer?”

But on the third incident a few weeks later, that logic doesn’t apply. Ryota hadn’t made his nightly visits to Midoriya for several days, and on the night of the latest attempted theft, the wolf never came to his room. Yet it was clear based on a few strands of fur left behind, it was Ryota that had saved the offerings once again.

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