#I especially loved the old lady. She is noisy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ophelieverse · 10 months ago

Note

Oppy my baby,can you please please please take in consideration to write something about my man Cregan Stark?🥺🥺

⊹˚₊only you could have called me back home

Cregan Stark x fem!reader

-Summary:reader is from house Manderly and she meets Cregan when they are kids,during his stay at her house she reads him a book about mermaids to help him sleep during a storm.Years later he does the same thing for their children.

-I finally gave in and decided to try.This is the first time that I write for Cregan,even though i love him very much and i can’t wait to see him(I pictured in my mind Tom Taylor)so forgive me if this sucks.

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It was night,late evening.

The sky,which was usually a dark blue,was covered by a thick blanket of gray clouds that made the stars and that moon disappear,which were supposed to illuminate New Castle of White Harbor.The blue blazon with the green merman holding a trident,symbolizing House Manderly,was dancing in the wind.

A little girl,who seemed to be not older than eight years old,was observing the world and that summer storm,one of many she had seen in just a month.Sitting in her chamber,on the carpet in front of the window that brought into that small balcony,curled up and with her arms hugging her legs,she let her eyes get lost in counting the thousands of droplets that rested on that sheet of glass.

She began to stare at a drop of rain,trying to see it flow along the entire length of the window.But this one soon disappeared,bursting into smaller droplets or joining others.

For Lady Y/n Manderly,the rain made everything so fascinating.

She came closer to the glass,almost squashing her face against the door-windows and waiting for a thunder to arrive.She had never been afraid of thunderstorms,quite the contrary.She found them fascinating.She still couldn't conceive that all that noise and lights came from nature and not from something created by men.

Watching a thunderstorm was more interesting than reading a book.Her mother used to read her dozen of them to help her sleep at night,especially during storms like this one.But at the end,the books in their library all looked alike and never change final.If she didn't want to read them anymore she could just close them.While thunderstorms are unexpected and uncontrollable.But above all,always different.

People can never predict the duration or intensity of a thunderstorm.You can just try to guess or stay and observe it.And Y/n loved to see thunderstorms.

But that wasn't the case for everyone.

The little girl knew for sure that there was someone who instead hated them and had a big fear of them.A young boy,just of two years older than she was,the son of the protector of the North,had revealed that he was very afraid of storms during one.

Lord Rickon Stark had arrived to White Harbor four nights before,just in time for dinner,to discuss with Lord Desmond Manderly,Y/n father,about the union of their houses.A calm but still noisy storm was what welcomed them,alongside the blue and green blazon of New Castle.

Y/n didn't understand what was scary about those lights and noises,but she couldn't help but think about what the boy was feeling at the time.

That boy who was also her husband to be once they would be old enough to marry.They already knew each other,they had met in different occasions and places,yet they had never forged a particular bond or friendship.

Their characters were particularly different and they both knew that they would find themselves colliding easily if they became friends.Moreover, there had never been a particular opportunity to get to know each other better.They were always surrounded by their families,politicians and maidens.

They were simply two children,two heirs of big and powerful houses and one day they will become husband and wife.Nothing more,nothing less.

And yet,at that moment Y/n was just thinking.She was just thinking about Cregan.That was his name and what he had told her to call him when she had addressed him as “Lord Stark” with a polite bow.

Y/n wondered if he wasn't scared.

She remembered once,when there was a tournament in Lannisport,he didn’t showed up to see the horses in the morning when it started to rain.Once again,during a visit a the Wall he had been more restless than usual when he had heard the sound of the thunders.

But didn't the dark sky of the evening emphasize the whole thing even more?

Y/n loved night thunderstorms,she found them even more impressive.But also scary.Especially now that her mother was heavily pregnant and needed to stay in bed to rest,meaning that she couldn’t read her stories to help her sleep better.

In Y/n that fear gave a sudden adrenaline rush,but in Cregan no,she could have said it with certainty.So,after thinking about it for too long,the little girl got up,took the cloak on the chair and without even thinking anymore,she opened the window-door wide and within seconds she found herself on the balcony,while the rain was beginning to increase slowly.

That wing of the castle was where both Y/n and her brothers chambers were,the same place where young Cregan was staying,in the room right next to hers.

Y/n stayed for a while to observe the sky,and the drops of rainwater falling on the palm of her hand that she had turned upwards,fascinated by everything as a child could be.But she hadn't gone out to the balcony to admire all that,no.

If she had only wanted to do that,she would have been content to sit in front of the front door-windows as she had until then,instead of getting wet.

No,Y/n had gone out to check on Cregan.To make sure that he was alright.

Their balconies were connected,divided only by a low wall of light bricks.She had often seen the young boy on that balcony in those days,watching people occupying those crowded streets or just wanting to breathe some air.

And on those occasions they had just waved to each other politely with kind smiles.

Y/n knew that the window on that balcony led to the room where Cregan was staying.

Still in the rain,half protected by the windowsill of the upper floor,she barely reached out her neck to observe the young boy room.But it was dark and the curtains were pulled,a sign that Cregan was probably already sleeping,as he would on any night.

The little Lady wanted to call herself a fool for coming out of her room just to make sure that he was okay,a boy whose she exchanged a few words and nothing else.The same boy that one day would have been her husband but the she didn’t knew nothing about.

Yet,in some way,she was relieved.Relieved that he was not awake yet and afraid of those thunders.

A part of Y/n wanted to go back into her room and go back admiring that storm from behind the glass plate of the window,but first she got closer to the wall that separated her from her neighbor.

To,she said to herself,just to check more closely.Just to make sure.

But check what exactly?

Y/n shook her head.She really had to be out of her mind if now she was worried about an almost - stranger that seemed to not like her at all.She made to retrace her steps,when a curled figure caught her attention.

Sitting on the ground,with his shoulders leaning against the wall of that balcony and with a black cloak on him,he stood with his head hidden by the hood.Still like a statue,with his arms around his legs.Half of his body was protected under the windowsill,while the other half was being wet by that rainwater.

Y/n tilted her head to the side,confused.

“Who is that?And what are they doing?”she wondered.

Even though she knew very well who it was.It couldn't be anyone other than him.

«Cregan?»Y/n spoke without having the slightest control over her voice,attracting the attention of the boy.

Cregan raised his head,which he had kept sunk between his legs until that moment,turning his head then towards the young lady on the other side of the wall.His eyes were usually clear and calm,but now they were wide open with astonishment.

Wide in a way that Y/n couldn't but find adorable.

She ignored these thoughts and just reopened her mouth«What are you doing out here?Don't you see .. ?It's raining.»she asked with a soft tone.

“As if i hadn't noticed,Y/n”Cregan wanted to tell her with a little voice.He wouldn't have put on his cloak if he hadn't seen the rain.

But a part of him decided to keep his mouth closed.Lady Y/n was immensely pretty under the pale moonlight and wet by the rain.He had always been fascinated by her,by the way her eyes shined bright and the way she talked fast about something she liked and knew about.She made him nervous to speak whenever he was around her,she was far smarter and wiser than him even at that young age,always so kind and he was afraid to make a fool out of himself.Especially when he was still scared of thunderstorms.

Cregan didn't answer,just staring at her with his big blue eyes.

«Are you hurt?»Y/n brown furrow as she scanned his pale face to find something.

The rain kept falling and it seemed that its intensity continued to increase as the seconds passed.The trees in front of that castle moved to the right and left,driven by a force they already knew,but which they were still unable to repel.

Cregan shook his head and then spoke«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he just said.

Y/n nodded«I know that.But why are you outside?»she offered him a kind smile.

Cregan seemed to think about it for a while, undecided whether to say everything to her or keep shut up.But there was something in her,something that was pulling in from the inside.Something that was screaming at him to tell her everything that he was afraid of,because with her it would be safe,she would have kept him safe.She would’ve understood him and comforted him.

He chose the second option and returned to stare at an indefinite point of his cloak,hoping that the young lady with wet hair and sweet eyes would soon leave,leaving him alone.As he had only been until recently.

One day Cregan would have been Lord Stark,protector of the great North and he needed to learn to not be afraid of thunderstorms on his own.But Y/n presence,the little girl that would become his wife,was louder than any thunder and brighter than any light.

In fact she had no intention of leaving.

«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he found himself repeating and then adding«I really can't stand them.»he murmured.

She listened to him carefully,standing in front of that little wall,while Cregan continued to turn his back on her and look down as he spoke again:

«I can't sleep when there are thunderstorms.And being alone in the room,in the dark with only sudden flashes to illuminate,is scary.»he explained quietly.

Y/n nodded sympathetically,although she didn't find anything scary at all in his description.But for once she tried to put herself on Cregan side.

«So why don't you go to your father?My mother always makes me sleep with her when I have nightmares.»she asked with curiosity.

Cregan shook his head,clutching in that heavy cloak«He doesn’t want to.He say I have to overcome my fears sooner or later.»he said,with a glint of sadness in his eyes.

Y/n curled her nose,confused«And do you get over them by standing in the rain?��squeezing her hands to create a little bit of warmth.

This time he took some time to respond.

Then,shifting his gaze towards the horizon«It's less scary.I can see the lights of the villages and the boats passing by and I know I'm not the only one awake.I know I'm not alone.»he found himself admitting«It's less scary.Or at least I think…»

He didn't know why he was saying these things.Especially to her.For all his ten almost eleven years he had carried that fear of his with him without saying anything to anyone.Revealing his fear only to himself.And seeking comfort only in him.

A comfort that most of the time was not enough.

His father kept telling him that he was grown up by now,that he had to overcome his fear of thunderstorms by now.A fear that was too childish for his age.For the Lord he was destined to be.How could he protect people when he was the first to be scared?He needed to start acting like a man.

But how adult can a ten year old be?

Without meditating on his words,Y/n replied«And are you going to stay out here all night?Until the thunderstorm stops?»her angel face was worried.

Cregan just nodded,without staring at her directly in the eyes.The little girl made a grimace that the other could not see.It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.Yet she still didn't find the strength to leave him alone.Leave him there alone and go back to her room.

Y/n had felt,she had felt for a few seconds,almost a perceptible thread that drew her to Cregan.Maybe she was just imagining everything. Maybe it was just her childish mind that was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it was just that summer storm fault.

She didn't know,but now she felt tied to the boy with the dark cloak and blue eyes.

«Come.»Y/n voice was firm and warm.

Cregan jolted,surprised to still hear the young girl voice.He thought she had returned to the heat of her room by now.And instead there she is,on the other side of the low wall,reaching out to him with a pure smile on her face.

“She’s cute when she smiles.”Cregan immediately thought,noticing her soft eyes and all her teeth shining in the light of the torches in the street.

He also found her so reassuring.That kind of safety that he desperately needed.

«Where?»he asked confused.

Y/n smiled at him again,getting closer and reaching out her hand again,almost touching his face making him shiver.

«If you spend the night out here you're going to get sick.If you don't want to be alone,I'll keep you company.»she stated fiercely and he knew nothing would’ve changed her mind.

They were simple words.Words of a child of eight,almost nine,years old.Yet Cregan swore he had never heard such beautiful words.No one had ever given him such attention and didn't know whether or not to trust that young lady.

They had met numerous times and now they were even betrothed to each other,but they weren’t exactly friends.

And Cregan was very skeptical to those he knew very little.Especially the ones that made him feel nervous just by looking at him.

He decided to refuse Y/n invitation.

But when he made to decline the offer,the first of many flashes lit up the sky,followed by a noise so loud that raised Cregan hair,or more commonly called thunder.

The boy snapped to his feet in fear.Perhaps the idea of going out,so as not to stay in the dark of his room,had not been the best.Or maybe it was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him and only now did he find it stupid.

«So?Are you coming or not?»Y/n called for his attention again,noting the thin veil of blush on his pale cheeks.

She was younger than him by only two years,yet she was still more mature than him.She had this aura surrounding her,of someone that would have took care of him.Someone he could really start to trust and lay down his strength.A little sun,personal and only for him,to remind him that the storms he was so afraid of were only temporary while she would have been by his side forever.

Cregan found himself shaking Y/n hand,who helped him climb over the wall that divided them, and in a moment he was on the other balcony.

He crossed his eyes again with those of his future wife,who immediately answered him with another sweet smile and opened the window door,to let him enter in the warmth of her room and protect him from that storm.

Immediately closed the door behind them and,after a moment of uncertainty she spoke first«Give me your cloak,i’ll put it here with mine so that tomorrow the servants can wash them.»she told him,taking her off to remain in her pink nightgown.

Cregan blushed even more as he nodded as if in a trance and took off his dark cloak,handing it over to her and revealing a pastel-colored pajamas.

He thought it was impossible for a room to look like it owner,but Y/n bedroom was just like her:a mess of colors,books everywhere and with a pleasant warmth that made him feel safe.

«Why are you still awake?»Cregan suddenly asked,trying to not move around too much.

The little girl took two pillows from her bed and a blanket,walking to the fluffy carpet in front of the old fireplace that the servants had lighted up before she went to bed,once the thunderstorm had started.

«I like to watch the storms.»she said,patting the empty space next to her with one hand«Also,now that my mother is pregnant and my father stays up with his advisors,i need to check on her.»she continues.

Cregan looked at her carefully,the long hair falling free on her shoulders,her perfect face.He was right,she so much mature than he was,already taking care of everyone around her at such a young age,just like a proper lady should.

As he took place next to her on the pavement,still keeping a proper distance between them,Cregan realized that he didn't know anything about her.But he knew how much she loved her mother as he always saw the two of them holding hands.He didn't know if she had the same relationship with her father,who seemed to prefer her older brothers,but he still didn't have enough closeness to ask her for more information.

In fact,they had absolutely no closeness and it could be seen in the silence that fell between the two children.One of those silences that always arise in similar situations,when two people don't know each other but have to spend time together.

«Would you like to do something?»Y/n calm voice sounded even more melodious up close.

She tried to mask that awkwardness with a polite tone,asking her guest with a kind expression.

Cregan spoke little and for the rest of the time he just agreed or disagreed on a certain statement.

The younger of the two was shrinking her minds to think of some kind of game to play together, but the boy next to her would just stare at her,frowning,as if he was annoyed by that situation,while standing close to window of that room like he wanted to escape that situation.

Y/n curled her nose,bored by that sudden superior attitude that Cregan was carrying on himself.

«Look,you can still go back in the rain if you prefer.»she told him,with a sour tone.

She felt bad to see him frightened by that thunderstorm,but if he didn't even show her a minimum of gratitude or a spirit of collaboration, then he could very well leave.Y/n was a sunny child,always with a smile on her face and ready to raise the morale of anyone who needed it.

But“This boy is really unpleasant”she thought.

Cregan crossed his arms to his chest,squeezing his eyes and staring at her,offended and angry at the same time.He thought that he shouldn’t have accepted her invitation and that both their fathers had made a mistake by promising them.They would never get along.

He could very well go back to his room and overcome that storm on his own,as he had always done until then.He didn’t need Y/n help.He made a grimace in the direction of the little girl,who responded to the gesture by raising her eyes to the sky.

But when he was about to open the window door and return to his room,without his dark cloak,a flash illuminated the sky and his face.

Cregan eyes went wide,as he was falling backwards and ending up on the ground on his butt as he waited for the arrival of the thunder that did not take long to arrive.His lower lip trembled,while he couldn't move any muscle.

He hated how thunderstorms could do this to him.He hated how they could make him tremble and frighten.

“They are a normal thing,dictated by nature”his father had always told him.

Yet Cregan didn't believe it.He continued to hate thunderstorms.

And something told him that this fear of his would never go away.

«Cregan.... are you all right?»he heard a soft voice behind his back.

Cregan looked up and saw Y/n standing on her knees on the carpet and he only remembered at that moment of her presence.

The boy gasped,looking for an answer.But before he could speak,another flash lit up the room,and before the thunder could be heard,Cregan had already put his hands on his ears.

The arrogant facade,which he had previously put on,had now completely crumbled, revealing his insecure and frightened side.

Y/n didn't know what to do.

The annoyed face she had a little while ago,was gone.Now she was really worried for him.She just wanted to find a way to distract him,and to put an end to that clash of lights that illuminated the room.

Cregan did not move,with his head resting on his bent knees,and the palms of his hands were still covering his ears,in the vain hope of not hearing that almost metallic and shackled noises.

«It’s alright,don't worry.»Y/n tried to reassure him.But it seemed that no one could move the young boy.

«They usually just make a big noise and then they go away.»she continued with a reassuring voice getting closer to him.

But Cregan was still shaking, scared,and Y/n didn't know what to do.She was never scared of thunderstorms.She would have liked to hold him tight in a hug,to drive away all his fear.But she knew that if she did,she would only make things worse.

In the meantime,Cregan continued to make himself small,smaller and smaller,curled up almost on himself on that light pavement.

«I mean…deep down it's just water,isn't it?Water and lights.As if it were an ocean... and the oceans are beautiful,aren't they,Cregan?»she asked with a hint of hope.

Y/n was used to the water,she lived near the sea and she had grew up running up and down on her fathers boats with her brothers.Her mothers read her stories about fishes,sailors,mermen and mermaids.

And while he did not respond,too busy controlling his fear,Y/n came up with an idea.

«I know what to do!»she almost screamed,catching Cregan attention and shicking around the room,as if looking for something.

The boy looked at her confused,forgetting – but only for a short time – of the thunderstorm.

«There you are.»Y/n exhaled,almost relieved.

Cregan blinked,observing the more confusion she had created throughout that room,the books scattered on the floor and the cabinets wide open,just for that medium-sized old book she now held in her hands,with a proud and satisfied smile.He didn't understand what use that book could have,but he didn't breathe,limiting himself to observing the young girl sitting carefully next to him and opening it.

And then millions of billions of fishes began to swim between the old pages.Cregan mouth widened into an “o”, but he quickly closed it again before Y/n could notice his astonishment.It's just a very simple book of fairy tales,he said to himself.

Yet,in some way,it had distracted him.

«If you lie down on the bed,you can see them better.»Y/n spoke,making herself comfortable on her bed and starting to turning the pages.

Cregan grimaced,watching how she was smiling.That wasn’t proper.

«Why should I lie down-»yet another thunder«Alright... I lie down.»he immediately changed his mind.

He hurriedly took the steps that separated him from that bed,before sinking into the lavander sheets that smelled of flowers and vanilla.

Y/n by his side smiled at him.But Cregan didn’t,remaining impassive and jolting at every thunder.She closed the curtains around her bad,only the soft light of the candle on the nightstand remain.The 'lightning' factor had been solved.

«They're beautiful,aren’t they?»she said,tracing with her fingers the different fishes.

They were.Their shapes,colors,sizes were mesmerizing.

Cregan didn't know to answer again.Those bright,fishes seemed to moved quickly on all those pages in a continuous flow.They were simple,so damn simple,yet they had caught the his attention.

«Yes,they ar–»he tried to agree with her,but here's yet another thunder made him jump out of fear.

Y/n by his side watched him close his eyes and plug his ears with both hands.

She had to find a way to distract him from the sounds too.

«You see him?»she turned the page and pointed to a strange figure on the right corner.

A man with a tail of a fish.

Cregan turned to her,taking his hands off his ears and moving his eyes on what Y/n finger was pointing to.

«It’s a merman?»he sounded uncertain,the figure on the book looked like the blazon of house Manderly.

Y/n nodded her head confirming his question«They said that he loved another mermaid and when the pirates had captured her,driven by grief,he turned his body in marble creating White Harbor.»she explained him,showing him another picture of the place where now she was living.

Cregan looked confused,his eyebrows raising«Why would he do that?»

The girl next to him sighed,her shoulder touching his,the sweet perfume of her hair was tickling his nose.She was warm and soft and made his stomach twist and his hands sweat.

«I guess that he couldn’t live without her and preferred to die.»she simply answered«Years ago i used to cry when my mother read me this story.»she continued as she flipped the page.

In the dim light,he could see that her eyes were a little glassy and only now he remembered that just like him,she was still a child with fears like him and stories that made her cry in her mother arms.

«How about her?»Cregan eyes and hand went to point to a female picture.

A mermaid with a red tale and long wet red hair on her shoulders,sitting on a rock near the coast.Her beautiful expression seemed pained,her mouth opened as if she was saying something.In the distance seemed that a storm was coming,the waves crashing into the shore,dark clouds on the horizon.

Y/n smiled,stretching the book out to him so that he could take a better look«She was a princess that fell in love with a sailor.Her father,the King of the fourteen seas had forbidden their love.»she started to explain with a soft tone«They could see each other only on the beginning of the Long Summer,when her father was away in the ocean»she said.

Cregan yawned«And how did they knew when the Long Summer came?»he seemed genuinely interested now.

«The storm.»Y/n quickly answered«It was her way to let him know that she was waiting for him.She was calling him back to her.»in her expression he could find a hint of teasing.

He shuddered,the thing that scared him the most,for this children book,was just a mermaid calling for her lover.

«But how does he know?»he asked again and his voice was becoming softer,his eyes closing a bit,yet he stayed very curious about the story.

«Does he know what?»Y/n whispered.

«That it was her.»he continued.

«Because he had loved no else but her in his life.Only her could have called him back home.»she explained and he swore he could’ve seen her eyes shine bright.

«I hate her father.»Cregan mumbled.

He found it stupid,it was just a fairy tale to help people sleep,but if the mermaid father didn’t get in the way tonight he would’ve been scared.And that’s also must had been the reason why she wasn’t afraid of them.

Y/n giggles made him blush,as she shook a little onto him«But you know what’s the best part of it?For the rest of the summer there wouldn’t be any other storms,just the bright sun as the two of them could be together.»she whispered.

It was a way to say that after every thunderstorm that would’ve been the sun.Always.

«Wasn’t she scared of her father founding out that they were still together?»his voice was sleepy and his eyes heavy.

Y/n shook her head«Love is stronger than fear.»she stated«Don’t you find it beautiful?»she said then,a dreamy look in her eyes.

There was no answer.

Y/n turned to him,finding him with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open.His chest would rise and fall at a regular pace,while his slight breathing could be heard.She smiled at that sight as she stroked his hair.

Cregan had fallen asleep.Y/n was satisfied.Satisfied and happy.

She succeeded in her intent,help him and distract him from the thing that scared him the most.She wondered what Cregan would do at this time if Y/n hadn’t invited him?

He would probably still have been awake.Because the thunderstorm hadn't stopped,no,it had never stopped.The mermaid was still calling for her lover.

The flashes,however,had mixed in the images on the pages and the noise of thunder had been lost among the stories of Y/n mermaids.Cregan had been so busy observing those images drawn on the book and hating the King of the seas,that he completely forgot about the thunderstorm.

Y/n closed the book,placed it carefully on her nightstand and reached out to grab a thin sheet at the bottom of their feet and covered the young boy who slept well by her side.

«Good night,Cregan.Tomorrow there will be the sun,i promise you.»she whispered kissing his forehead and drifting to sleep too.

And for the first time,after so many years,he slept.After so many years,Cregan was sleeping peacefully with a thunderstorm.

On any day in the early summer,ten years later,Lady Y/n Stark of Winterfell was laying in the bed she shared with her Lord husband.

Wife and husband,that’s what her and Cregan had been for the past four years.But before pronouncing their vows in front of the Seven and their families,they had became the best of friends.

When did they start calling each other that way?When did they become friends?Could they find a precise moment when they had gone from being strangers to even best friends?Were they able to establish the exact moment when their bond changed?

No,they couldn’t.

Maybe it was the year after that fateful rainy night.Maybe it was the next month when Cregan had spent all of his moments and attention in Y/n presence,falling in love with her more and more.

Or maybe it had happened at the exact time their hands had touched,when Y/n had proposed to be together in that thunderstorm,to mark the point of change for their relationship.

They didn't know that though.Neither of them knew for sure.But they didn't even ask.They fell in love with each other before they got married and that was that mattered.There are bonds that are born before the interlocking of the hands and connections that are born before touching each other.It was just pretty to think that,all this time,there was some kind of invisible string that was tying them together.

Anyone who cared for Cregan had to understand that he needed a little looking after.Someone who could help him sleep,who reminded him that he was just human and that he could still a child sometimes.And Y/n understood that,she held him gently,far more gently that anyone ever did.She stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep at night,she stood next to him to greet the arrival of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and supported him in his decision to fight for the Dragon Queen.

All because she loved him more than anything and because he loved her.To love and to be loved was to rest.

Yet,now that Cregan was away,on the Wall of the great north with the young prince,Y/n couldn’t seem to find sleep.It was raining heavily outside,the long summer had arrived earlier that year and a violent storm was what welcomed it.

The pale rays of the moon filtered through the clouds,the wind was blowing against the windows,the lights of the lightning shaped the dark room she was in.

Cregan had ruined her,she thought to herself,ever since they got married and started to share the bed she couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t next to her,holding her in his arms,kissing her lips softly and whispering how much he loved her.But she knew that,with the war at their doorstep,he was busy with the young prince Jacaerys who came two weeks ago in ask for the help of the North.

Her husband was a man of honor,the Lord of Winterfell that never forget his oaths.

When a particular loud thunder broke through the quietness of the castle,Y/n got up from her bed.Taking the candle on the nightstand,she started walking down the dark corridor to reach her children chambers.Her sons,Rickon and Brandon,only four and two years old,looked exactly like their father:true men of the north but with their mother eyes and kind smile.

Just like their father they were scared of storms,it took her hours to put them to bed that night since the first drop of rain had hit the ground.They both reminded her the first time that she had spent with Cregan during one of those,curling up on her as she read them one of her books to help them sleep.

But that night was different,after two weeks of writing letters and longing,Cregan was finally home.As she quietly opened the door,the candle that Y/n was holding in her hand almost fell,when she saw her husband sitting on a chair in between the two beds where their sons seemed to sleep so soundly and well.

He was still wearing his dark fire coat and his long were wet,the tip of his nose red from the cold,while in his hands he was holding a old fairy tale book that they both knew very well.As if he had heard her behind the door,he smiled,and his face was like the sun.

He had came back as soon as he had heard the first sounds of the thunders,like a sailor bewitched by the melody of a siren voice.His sons were the first ones to greet him,running barefoot down the hallways to reach comfort in their father strong arms.

Cregan had been there before,his heart clenched in his chest as he dried the tears off their eyes and saw the fear on their little faces.But he knew what he had to do,unlike his father,he would always be there for help his children no matter what.

«The mermaid had waited all winter for her lover return,her voice guided him through the storm.»his voice was quiet and soft like a warm blanket«With the first lights of the new sun,he came back to her.»in his hands the hold book.

His oldest son yawned«But wasn’t he afraid of the storm?»Rickon asked,holding his teddy bear closer to his chest.

«He was.»Cregan nodded«But you know what is stronger than fear?»he whispered,noticing his younger son fast asleep.

Rickon shook his head,his eyes fighting to urge to close«What?»he chirped.

«Love.»his father simply answered«The idea of coming back to his lover was stronger than the fear of the storm.»Cregan stood up,caressing his son head.

«One day i want to love someone this much.Just like you love mama.»Rickon murmured sleepy,with a little smile on his face.

«And you will.»he promised«One day you will have someone that will help you overcome your fears and that will always call you back home when you are wondering too far.»he kissed both of his sons forehead.

Cregan was still a little nervous about storms,but that night he was finally back home as sun on water.Y/n reached for him and skimmed her hands over the light of him.

«I missed you.»she whispered on his lips,kissing him sweetly.

Cregan was holding her in his arms,gently caressing her hair,his forehead on hers«I saw the storm and i knew.»he smiled,trailing his lips on her chin and cheeks.

Y/n shivered,not only because his icy fingers were rubbing up and down her back,but because only her could understand the meaning of those words.The intimacy of having something only them could share with each other.

«So you came back early because of the storm?»she giggled as his beard tickled her beautiful face.

He smiled even more,tightening his grip on her smaller body«I came back because of you.Only you could have called me back home.»he whispered placing a kiss on her lips.

The smell of her hair,the taste of her mouth,the feeling of her skin seemed to have gotten inside of him or in the air all around him.She had become a physical necessity,not only to ease his fear,but to have someone to come back to.

She placed her head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat beating alongside hers.They stood there for a moment more,embracing each other,in the dark corridor.

«Do you hear it?»Y/n softly asked suddenly.

«Hear what?»Cregan voice was low.

«The sound of the rain.»she explained,closing her eyes and relaxing against his touch.

For a while they just listened to the incessant ticking of the rain,while a thousand fish continued to swim on the pages of their book.

But suddenly a flash illuminated the corridor,followed by the due thunder.

Y/n jolted,expecting her husband to do the same.

Yet this was not the case«Aren't you afraid of thunderstorms anymore?»she teased him.

«How can I be afraid of thunderstorms when I'm by your side?»he said,caressing her cheek lovingly.

«Tomorrow there will be the sun.»she smiled against him,brighter than any light.

She was right,after the storm there was always the warm weather and Y/n was the golden sun at the horizon.That one thing that gave him hope for a brighter future,the only one that could bring him back home.Because his sleepless nights are better with her than any nights could ever be alone.

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skiiyoomin · 11 months ago

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ღWhat the JJK characters listen to

ʚCharacters included: Gojo, Getou, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji

⤑Back to navigation ⤑part 2

a/n im doing this for my own entertainment purposes, thank you.

Gojo Satoru

You absolutely cannot tell me he didn´t have a frat boy phase during high school.

I´m talking Drake, Travis Scott, Kayne West, Chris Brown and obviously we can´t forget about Usher. (SAY DADDYS HOOOME)

As he got older his taste definetly evolved and he cringes HARD when he thinks about his high school phase. Dark times.

To me he´s someone who´s very very trendy and is always listening to whatever is trending on Tik Tok.

Honorable mention: Beyoncé (he would die just to breath the same air as our queen)

Getou Suguru

Yes he listens to The Weeknd, he´s a slut like that. BUT. Hear me out.

When he was going through it, he had Tame Impala and The Neighbourhood on REPEAT.

Also, he had a Panic! At the Disco phase during high school and you can´t tell me otherwise. He tries to keep it buried but honey ain´t no hiding it.

Gojo always argues with him over this, but he prefers Rhianna over Beyoncé.

I feel like out of all of the ones in the list, he´s the one with the most diverse taste except he always ends up listening to the same 5 songs (he´s like me fr)

Honorable mention: MGMT

Nanami Kento

Did you see that man during high school? he was EMOOOO.

My Chemical Romance, Green Day, Evanescence, Paramore, and obviously Panic! At the Disco.

He LOVED listening to P!ATD with Geto and singing to I Write Sins Not Tragedies.

Now that he´s older and realized it was indeed a phase, his taste evolved into more classic artists. Like ABBA or Queen.

Deep down he still enjoys emo rock music but he won´t ever admit it.

Honorable mention: Justin Timberlake (don´t ask why, cause I don´t know either)

Choso Kamo

It´s obvious, i don´t think I even need to say it.

CHASE ATLANTIC BRO

he´s so Chase Atlantic coded it hurts😔

Also Arctic Monkeys and The Weeknd, but you knew that already didn´t you?

Yuuji introduced him once to Lady Gaga and she´s on repeat. Especially The Fame Monster album.

Tries to diversify his taste but somehow always ends up listening to the same type of music.

Honorable mention: Kali Uchis (i was listening to Dead To Me while writing this so 👍)

Sukuna Ryomen

In the modern day, cause manz is old as fuck, he either listens to hard metal or phonk. There´s no in between.

He just loves noisy ass music that gives you pounding headaches after 50 seconds.

Mostly listens to it to block out Yuujis music. Cause he internally cries every time Yuuji plays preppy ass pop music. Makes him fr wanna rip his eardrums out.

BUT.

He has a huge guilty pleasure that not even he is aware of.

And that´s Britney Spears. No I will not elaborate

Honorable mention: Adele cause who doesn´t like Adele

Toji Fushiguro

ANYTHING but preppy music.

Literally anything but that.

I feel like he isn´t the type to listen to a lot of music but when he does he always listens to the same songs cause he isn´t interested in exploring and expanding his tastes.

Lowkey feel like he has a thing for Doja Cat and Bryson Tiller.

I´m convinced he found out about reggaeton once and has become the only thing he listens to.

Honorable mention: Michael Jackson (just because)

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colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago

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Just figured out you are taking requests for my sweetie L lawliet, so could you do L lawliet with a little sister (reader) probably a 8-10 year age gap between them, she's shy, introverted, quiet, and is always avoiding anyone other than L. She's sneaky and noisy. Her and L has that same crouching position while sitting, you'll never catch her eating anything unless she's eating with L. She's always around L and is with him while sleeping or basically while L speaks on the computer about cases she'll be there sleeping quietly in his lap She's a mini version of him and if she speaks to someone she either responds very mean and blunt with a monotone voice like she doesn't care or will just respond with one word or just a nod. Just recently thought of this sooo yeah🤯!! Anyways have a good day💕

Hmmm! So we’re basically just L again! Well… I suppose I can try already but thank you anyway, I’ll do my best!

Lawliet L- Kindred Shackle

A second L you say? The Taskforce will blow up in flames when they meet you, stood alongside your biological older brother, L. Not in a bad way but in a; “God, there’s two of them” way. One L is bad enough, two Ls is almost like hell

You and L match so much, you might as well wear matching clothes or be the same age since you two mirror each other to a extreme. You’re just as introverted and quiet as L, you’re just as devoted and stubborn, and most importantly, you’re as attached to L as attached he is to you

No joke. You will not eat nor sleep without L present and he knows that as much. So he has you hooked to his hip 24/7 and he never lets you out of his sight. All to make sure you’re healthy and okay

L views you as a cute little lady and he does get a bit scolding when you speak all monotone and blunt to people. Cmon, be nicer! He always tries to encourage you to be a kind, sweet young lady since he wants you to have friends. You should have everything he can’t have

L doesn’t really mind having a littlest sister as clingy and puppy-like as you. You’re a very helpful source, both in work and in his person as he can rely on you in all fields, rather you be MUCH younger than him. He’s 24 and you’re 15!

L believes he works better with you around. Either sleeping on his back or baking with Watari only a couple feet by him, he is fully convinced you provide him with the energy and motivation to work harder on cases, especially the Kira case

L prefers you not adapt to his habits in the slightest. His insomniac sleep patterns, his sugary diet. He is a awful role model and he knows that so he openly tells you to never follow in his footsteps and be like him; it may be intriguing but to him, your health is so much more important than a title

L is a very loving older brother. He may not seem like it but he is, he’ll comb fingers through your hair to help you fall asleep faster, he’ll buy you all kinds of cute accessories and clothes, he is practically your caretaker as the only family you have left. It explains the equal attachment you both have for one another;

L carefully shuffled against the plush couch cushions in order to get more comfortable whilst you were cuddled up in his lap and arms, he had you caged to his scrawny chest with the way his arms stretch out to type on his laptop, the jingle of metallic chains echoing through the spacious room with each wrist movement. You had always been next to L, ever since he willingly took on this horribly deadly murder case and you were willingly to die for your older brother

He is the only thing you have. And you are the only thing he has, L remembers how he carried the only few months year old newborn you through the orphanage when Watari was introducing him to the establishment and the children inside. How he beat down every single one of the kids that dared to try touch you, no, L will never let anybody touch you. Especially when you’re asleep and vulnerable

Light merely approaching or leaning over to L at the very moment to discuss topics or hand over file documents had the pale insomniac man kicking at him in a protective panic. L almost lost you to a horrible rainstorm-induced cold, where he had to use everything his IQ could prosper at that young age to produce a effective medicine alternative to save your life. After that, L has always been overprotective and as your caretaker, he must do everything to raise you and still work as the World’s Greatest Detective

He was very against you joining the case but you went everywhere with him, to every case and to every country. He would never leave you alone, not even for a minute. The only person he truly trusted you with was Watari but since the beloved elderly man was nowhere to be seen, L has to protect you from basically nothing but his own anxiety. He knew his protectiveness was nonsense but he didn’t care, his brotherly love was stronger than his rationality

You’re the only blood he has left in this cruel harsh world and you’re now sitting in the building complex where the Police try track down the world’s most deadly killer. He can’t lose you. To nothing, no Kira, no Taskforce, no wannabe Detective Ls. He will die to the Death Note for you and only you, he won’t let Kira discover your name and drag you into heaven far too early. You must live your life first and if risking his means it will happen, it will happen at all causes

“Dokusha… sweetheart. Up you go, Watari has arrived to transport you to our room. Don’t fret, I’ll be joining you after I’m finished with my duties here, alright?”

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thethingaboutrenas · 4 months ago

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The thing about... The Tortured Poets Department:

Is that the real torture is in the organization of this whole album.

When Taylor first announced this album I was actually excited, keeping up with the re-recordings (and *still* patiently waiting for the Rep TV) was very fun, but it started to annoy me a little, and not because of dumb reasons like "it's been years!", but because it was preventing her from doing new stuff.

As if.

Since 2020 doing press for albums, whether that be new or new-old ones, and going on the biggest tour of her career and of the current industry, Taylor still found (or made) time to write many many songs.

"You know in the past few years, I have released more music than I did in the entire decade preceding that, [...] so, I found that the more music I made and the more music that I put out, the happier I was, the more I kept that channel open and just kept creating, kept making things," - Taylor Swift during her AMA's speech (2022)

As much as the fans, and the industry, loves to hear that, as a music fan and somewhat of an artist, i was terrified to hear that. It is important to create, especially when that resonates with how you're feeling or going through. Art is supposed to do that, be a tool, a shoulder to cry, even a kiss if you're sweet enough to vision it.

What shook me up on that speech though was the "the more music i put out the happier i was". That to me showed me that right now music to her is a vehicle of communication that says everything she wants to hear.

I do not know Taylor Swift, I am not her personal secret friend or even someone who's had little hangouts with her - as it is not her fans. But looking at her previous lyrics and previous interviews, Swift has obviously built a fanbase that sees her as a friend, not an idol or family figure, but a friend. They can count on her as much as she can on them. Sure, there are the psychopaths, which Swift has rightfully complained about, but looking at the "normal" ones, Swift does sees them as friends as well.

Release after release, Swift has stated that it is comforting writing songs and seeing people identify with such songs, telling their stories and thanking her for writing them. That's a friend relationship in the Fan World. They can count on her as much as she can on them.

When talking about "The Tortured Poets Department" to an audience of The Eras Tour, Taylor said the album came from "a need to write". And quoting NME "It’s just that maybe we didn’t need to hear it." Rough! Not untrue though, but to me, maybe we could've want to listen, but mostly Taylor needed to hear it.

My excitement for the new album came from the shallow reason of me being noisy and wanting the full on gossip of her previous relationship with Joe Awlyn, but also because the whole aesthetic she created, the name and taking in context how much her life has changed in the past four years, and knowing her ability to use that (we've seen in folklore, reputation and Speak Now, ladies and gentlemen) made me excited for the body of work i would listen to.

Thing is, said body: sounds like Frankenstein with a bunch of loose stitches. The album has so many stories, so many feelings, so many genres, so much information, that one would think that's a good thing but when you listen to it, it's just a mess.

"The Tortured Poets Department" is so clearly an Eras Tour album that it just feels like you're hearing her entire discography. Which is really a shame 'cause she has a great discography, but in this context it's redundant. You get tracks that sound like folklore, red, 1989, reputation with lyrics that rarely don't sound like she didn't read after writing it.

"Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming "But Daddy I love him!" I'm having his baby No, I'm not, but you should see your faces" - But Daddy I Love Him (Idk it's just dumb, strike me as a buzzkill but it's so lame)

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike, I Haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - gonnagetyouback (A bike?)

Was any of it true? Gazing at me starry-eyed In your Jehovah's Witness suit Who the fuck was that guy? You tried to buy some pills From a friend of friends of mine They just ghosted you Now you know what it feels like - The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived (Weak analogy)

Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto - So High School (I just hate it. Don't care i'ts called the way it's called, she could've done something better, especially with the "bros" part

We wished we could live in instead of this I'd say the 1830s but without all the racists and getting married off for the highest bid - I Hate It Here ("But the took out the racists" baby it's a weird lyric that honestly would only work out in a very specific way to a type of activism that Taylor is not)

Had Taylor been a little more crytical on her writing, instead of... listening to a whole bunch of fans that have 0 reference besides her to the point they think she invented synthpop. She could've done a really good body of work, and i know that because out of the 31 (31!!!) songs on the album, that are such great sensational songs - had them been placed on the right album.

After being on several short relationships, Taylor was with a guy for six years, to the point of marriage expectation, it was a relationship way different from the others. She went from no politics to publicly endorsing candidates and many social movements. She went from number one public enemy to somebody no one cares about to renowned artist to "that annoying singer" in the spam of four years.

She's a skilled songwriter, one hell of a instrumentalist, perfect at singing a song exactly how i'ts supposed to be sung and with a big ass baggage to use as material. Yet here we are.

I will say though, there are glimpses of what this album could've been. This was the perfect chance to, just like folklore, experiment with a genre she and her fans weren't comfortable with yet. Not only showing artistic growth but intertwining with how much she has grown with the changes from the past 4 years. A bit afraid to say that, maybe, this didn't happen because she didn't.

"The Tortured Poets Department" to me is: Florida !!! (feat. Florence and the Machine), Clara Bow, Fresh Out The Slammer and The Black Dog.

On hindsight, The Tortured Poets Department is a waste of potential with solid songs but overall a bad album.

BONUS: As a known capitalist, she lost her chance to release a Live Album of The Eras Tour with two bonus songs, one of them being "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart" and "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me".

3/10

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leeyanyanyaaan · 2 years ago

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genshin!oc headcanons: renge

i've been wanting to use this oc somewhere for a while now and after playing yae mikos story quest i just thought that she'd fit really well in genshin! so have my little chaotic gremlin baby >:3 might make a proper oc profile for her like lian one day

(renge ref board)

SO this kid (even though she's like a hundred years old) is half kitsune.

she's distantly related to miko from her kitsune side, but she calls miko auntie... old lady/hag if she's trying to annoy her. (she called her a witch once but miko immediately knew and punished her for that oof)

honestly she's the death of miko. an absolute handful, gives the yuuji gae a headache whenever she's around.

BUT as much as a little menace the half-kitsu is she's also the yae publishing house's ace card.

renge is an avid writer AND artist, very passionate about her works, and even introduced graphic novels/mangas to inazuma.

girl got tired of being hounded for manuscripts and having to go through editing and all that so she thought making it more visual-focused would help... boy was she wrong 💀

speaking of, renge is ALWAYS being hounded about deadlines, especially with miko being her dear lovely aunt and the owner of the publishing house :))))

renge didn't even have a choice in the matter miko was just like if you have nothing to do and no way to earn money you might as well make profit for the publishing house

(jk, miko just convinced renge that her work is actually good and that getting her works serialized would be a good way to share it, isn't she such a nice aunt?)

so if you find renge coming crying to you, the traveller, to help her hide from her aunt who's hunting for her, don't be surprised.

haven't played gorou's story quest, but i do know ms. hina is gorou, and i can imagine renge teasing gorou for it and never letting him live it down LOL well if she knows it's him, that is. if not, she'll make jokes saying "lol imagine if u were ms hina gorou-nii" while gorou sweats nervously

but at the same time gorou's her dependable older bro, but he's also the bro who falls victim to renge's scheming and puppy eyes to get what she wants

probably gets along with itto, being an absolutely chaotic and noisy duo and giving in to each other's childish antics. renge bullies him lovingly <3 also has a big bro/lil sis dynamic

mm apart from writing and drawing, renge loves street food, especially tomoki's stall with all his new food (she's a total foodie, give her food and she'll love you), and the color red :) she dislikes skirts/dresses (prefers hoodies with comfy pants), being lectured and told off, deadlines and when aunt miko gets mad

overall she's just a chaotic gremlin and a menace that just likes to enjoy life and have fun!

idk if she'd have a vision but if she did it'd probably be either pyro or anemo, weapon might be claymore or catalyst but with heizou's fighting style

#original character #oc #oc headcanons #genshin impact #genshinsona #genshin persona #genshin impact persona #genshin oc #genshin impact oc #kitsona koven #renge

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topreviewin · 1 year ago

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OAKLEY — An 18-year-old Antioch guy ended up being arrested Wednesday in a shooting that left one teenager dead and three other individuals injured at a house party Saturday-night in Oakley. Jason Walizada ended up being scheduled into Contra Costa County prison relating to the shooting, which rattled pupils at multiple nearby high schools and caused one walkout amid hearsay of continued assault. U.S. Marshals assisted arrest Walizada within the 2600 block of Orange Method in Antioch, in accordance with the Oakley Police division. He had been held Wednesday evening on $1,150,000 bail. Authorities stated he had been becoming held on a “homicide warrant,” though no more details had been circulated about their so-called part within the shooting. The arrest arrived four times after a property celebration in Oakley went to by a large number of young adults concluded in bloodshed, only a half hour after authorities went to the house to analyze a noise problem. Oakley officials had been very first known as around 10:45 p.m. Saturday to a property within the 400 block of Shannon Method after some one reported that an event truth be told there was in fact also noisy. An 18-year-old lady which existed there informed authorities she ended up being attempting to turn off the celebration, but teenagers held turning up. Officials left after she declined their particular provide to aid separation the celebration, in accordance Oakley authorities Chief Paul Beard.. About thirty minutes later on, about 20 to 30 young adults attained the home and – utilizing the door becoming secured – utilized a side gate to get involved with the yard, authorities stated. Immediately after, screams might be heard from the household and lots of teenagers started running-out leading home. That’s whenever five or six shots had been fired at the house. Killed within the shooting ended up being 16-year-old Kemarion Tucker, which lived-in Brentwood and went to Liberty highschool. Three teenagers had been taken fully to hospitals. One of those, a 17-year-old woman, was launched within a few times. Two guys – centuries 17 and 15 – stayed hospitalized on Monday, though their particular problems weren't understood. Over recent years times, authorities and college officials been employed by to dispel hearsay that Freedom and Liberty large schools encountered yet another “threat of violence” stemming through the shooting, which Beard labeled as “unverified and unvetted.” The rumor, which swirled on social media marketing, caused these types of issue that some pupils at Freedom highschool stepped from course. In a statement Wednesday announcing the arrest, Beard vowed to carry on examining the shooting. He noted that Walizada “does not represent the sole focus of our investigation.” “This case has absolutely shattered the lives of family, friends and loved ones of the victims in this case, especially the deceased child,” Beard stated. “I am hoping we will see full measures of accountability achieved in this case.” This is a developing tale. Always check straight back for revisions. #Arrest #deadly #weekend #Oakley #house #party #shooting

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pinksirensong · 2 years ago

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THE ADDAMS FAMILY (I)

- What are you doing here? – were the first words Y/N Addams said after opening the door of her parents’ house. After seeing her boyfriend wasn’t alone, she turned her head to the bird. – Hello, Matthew!

- It is your uncle’s Festus marriage, it is polite of me to accompany you.

- With that? – she pointed to the flowers that were so full of life. – I don’t think so. Go back to the Dreaming, we can see each other when I am back. – Y/N tried to close the door, but he used his hand to stop her.

- I would like to… - Morpheus looked at his raven for help and that intrigued the young Addams. – meet your parents?

- Morpheus, are you alright? – in all those years dating she had never seen him like this, it was almost like he was nervous.

- He’s alright, lady boss! Just some good old case of cold feet, you know? – if she wasn’t there surely Matthew would be receiving a very different treatment from his master.

- I believe that only applies to the bride and groom, he is neither of them. Must I ask again what is going on or shall I only hit the door on your face like Constantine once did?

- I have never meet parents before, Y/N – if this was anybody else then maybe there would be some sympathy, but it was her and she couldn’t understand the stress over it. Her parents never asked to meet him, neither did the rest of her family, the Addams weren’t noisy about romantic relationship, honesty they just hoped their firstborn wouldn’t date one of those too much normal and popula2r people, the kind that made fun of their way of living.

- If it makes you feel better, my dream, I’ve never brought anyone home. And you do not have to come, they are not expecting you. – it was such a intimate thing to know exactly what to say to the person you loved, how easy it was make the other feel better with only words. Y/N took the bouquet out of his hand and started separating the flower from the stem from each one. – You must decide what is your wish for I cannot be busy for my uncle’s wedding.

- Is that what you’re wearing to it? – Matthew asked, surprised with her full black look to a wedding. The black did highlight her skin and it was her marked style, always in black from up to down, she was an Addams after all.

- Yes and no matter the answer I must say that you’re always welcomed, Matthew. Although it would be unwise of you to be too close, my sister likes to play with my crossbow, and you would make a fine target.

- Would you look at the time, pretty sure I should be back at the Dreaming. Have a very nice wedding. – and with that he flew away, but they both heard when he murmured “weirdos” before vanishing at the sky.

- What about you, my dream? Will you follow your raven? – he was gazing at her, studying her movements as she plucked the last flower. – You never got me flower. I always thought it was because you knew, perhaps because of my dreams, that I do not like them. Especially the ones that are very colourful, something that I inherited from my mother. – she gave him back the bouquet now only with stem with thorns. – Much better now.

- It was Matthew’s idea, he said it was custom to bring flowers to the mother of your beloved. I thought he would have more…experience at this. Not long ago he was a human while I…

- Know me better than anyone else. There is no pressure, you don’t have to come in. – she touched his left check with her right hand, making him close his eyes at the contact. – As you told me the first time you asked me to come to the Dreaming, to meet your family, I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable. I’ve no wish to make you do something you don’t want to. We have time and this doesn’t make me love you any less.

- My love, my little dreamer, I wish to do all with you. There is not a moment where you make me feel uncomfortable or unsafe, the truth is that you make me feel so…happy. You give me hope, every day, on your own way. I feel like everything is possible with you by my side, even after doing something for the first time in my endless time.

- Oh, my dream. – she brought him in for a kiss, which he gladly and passionately corresponded. No one at the Dreaming could explain the couple, neither could the people around Y/N at the waking world, but when they were together there was not a single being that could deny that they loved each other with a burning passion. Both Y/N and Morpheus would kill and die for the other, they would burn the world down to ashes if necessary and that was how much strong their love was. Once the kiss was over, they continued close and keeping eye contact.

- Shall we come in? – Y/N smiled and adjusted his coat.

tag list: @asexualaromosafezone @jesllianaquilesrolon @andieperrie18

- Yes, we shall. – with smiles on their faces and joined hands they entered the Addams residence, ready to face everything and everyone.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman #morpheus x oc #the addams family

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sohin-ace · 3 years ago

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Kakyoin - Fateful Day

Kakyoin x Jotaro's sister reader

I freaking love the Joot-sister prompt

You were always used to Jotaro and you walking separatedly from and to school. The guy had way longer legs than you and would rather not be seen with you in public and near school, for reasons mysterious to you.

At first you felt offended that he would be ashamed of you, or just not bear your presence.

You did not know, in fact, that the reasons he kept his distance from you as much as he could when on schoolgrounds or when going to school, was to protect you from danger.

Not only was Jotaro constantly surrounded by crazy girls who would probably harass you for existing in his world, but he also had troubles, to understate, with local delinquents and other gangsters who wanted to throw some hands at him.

Furthermore, with the new discovery of that bizarre, seemingly evil spirit that started following him around, you were really the last person he wanted to hurt.

Unfortunately, being distant from his little sister wasn't near enough to protect her this time.

One fateful day, soon after your grandfather arrived in Japan and Jotaro got out of holding, you were walking home from school as usual.

Jotaro was already a solid five minutes away in front of you, which meant you were all alone.

You didn't mind the lone walk, the town was peaceful and you were used to it. But something irked you when you felt an insistant presence behind you.

You turned around, checking, but no one was there. You shrugged the feeling off, feeling a bit stupid for thinking the worse and kept walking, telling yourself it must have been a cat or an innocent someone who got home.

"Jotaro~! Welcome back- hm? Where is your sister?" Holly asked as she welcomed her son who just came home.

The boy grunted, reluctantly accepting his 'welcome home' smooch. "She's coming. She's just slow."

After a long while of waiting for your return, Holly started to worry, stress and anxiety clouding her mind. Panicked, she barged in Jotaro's bedroom. You weren't usually this late.

"Jotaro, are you sure Y/N was behind you? It's been almost thirty minutes and she's still not back…"

Jotaro huffed in annoyance as he got up from his laid down position on his bed.

"Yare yare daze, quit worrying over nothing, she's probably fine."

" 'Probably'?!"

"What's going on, Holly?" Joseph joined in after hearing the commotion.

"Y/N's not back from school yet… I'm scared something might have happened to her…" Holly explained to her father, dread even more evident in her voice as she worded her worries.

Joseph rubbed her shoulder in reassurance, "It's okay, Holly, I'm sure she's not that far. Jotaro! Get up and go look for your sister! You're supposed to keep an eye on her, that's your role as a big brother!"

The old man scolded as the teenager stood up and got on his way, as if he had been asked an annoying chore.

"Yare yare, you're all so noisy over nothing." He put his shoes back on and took his leave.

Stopping every once in a while and unable to shake off your uneasy feeling truly delayed you. You were sure you'd never hear the end of this if your father knew how late you were today.

"Kujo..." A sudden deep voice called right behind you, and you turned around, meeting with a complete stranger. "…Am I correct?"

"Yes?" You replied a bit shyly as you turned fully to him. "And you are...?"

As you now had a better look at him, you realised how handsome he actually looked. Not at all how you imagined a potential creep following you.

He wore your school's uniform but you didn't recognize his face. He must be a new student, you told yourself. He had beautiful red hair and a white shawl that flew gracefully in the wind. He was also strongly and elegantly built. Just who was he?

But all that charm quickly shifted as he smirked eerily in response. He approached you, his eyes glaring into your soul and you stepped backwards as fear built up inside you. Why was he looking at you like that so suddenly?

The uneasiness from before came up tenfold, this time completely justified. You spoke up as he came uncomfortably close to you, towering over your much smaller form.

"U-um… Did you need something…?" You hesitantly stuttered as he now stood arm-length away from you.

"Yes I do." He spoke confidently, his goal like set in stone. "I need you to lead me to your brother."

"What? My brother? If it's a fight you want with him, I won't let you." You protested with more confidence, now that you started to understand where he came from.

You were used to people trying to pick fights with Jotaro. You knew your brother had way too many enemies for his own good, and surely you wouldn't let anyone get to him and filter them out if you had the occasion.

"Who even are you? I don't recognize you from school…" You squinted your eyes warily. This boy arised too many questions in your mind.

Kakyoin smiled softly at you, which you didn't trust at all. He was fishy and there was something in his eyes that you quite couldn't put you finger on.

"My name is Kakyoin Noriaki." He sighed. "I didn't want to use force on a lady, but you don't leave me any choices..."

Before you could even react, green tentacle-like appendices appeared from behind him and lunged at you. You gasped and bolted away as fast as you could.

You knew it. It was bad. Real bad. You had no chance against a Stand user like him, you couldn't manage your own newly found Stand just yet. It was exactly like your grandfather said.

You tried to run, but not even 2 meters far and his green vectors wrapped around your ankles.

As you were about to trip and land on the floor, more of the tentacles wrapped around your legs, waist, arms and wrists, preventing you from falling, keeping you still in mid-air.

You couldn't move. Kakyoin came up behind you as you struggled in Hierophant Green's grip.

"Well that was easy." He snickered over your tied up and desperate form.

"LET ME GO!! LET ME- HMMFF!" He put a large hand over your mouth, effectively silencing your now muffled screams.

"Shhh! Don't make this harder for us, I'll just borrow your body real quick. It'll be over before you even know it. I'll make this painless, I'm a gentleman."

He released your mouth and Hierophant green squeezed itself around your neck, choking you, your mouth agape for you desperately needed air.

He took this advantage to grab your wrists and lock you against his chest as his Stand released you to nest itself inside your opened mouth.

Your body tensed up at the foreign and disgusting feeling of the spirit slipping down your throat and you violently squirmed in Kakyoin's grip as he forced your mouth closed, keeping the Stand inside to own your will and possess you. Just as Dio had taught him.

"Good. That's good. Jotaro would never kill his own sister, now would he? Even though his own sister will kill him. How tragically ironic."

He wrapped his arms back to your midsection as you stopped squirming, tired and breathless from fighting against him in vain. He held you against him as he knew you would surely collapse if he let go.

"Haaah… Ahh… Haaaa… Haaahh…" You panted shakily, scared and exhausted as your head hung low and your cold hands rested upon his own, barely able to swat them away from you with how shakey you were.

You were weak and alone, which was perfect for him to use. He chuckled and you felt the rumble of his chest against your back as he did. You felt like crying.

"It's too bad that you have to die. You're so cute, I would have loved to bring you to Master Dio with me."

You suddenly felt nauseous. You felt his stand inside you, trying to slide itself into every part of you and take control of your body.

You tried to resist, your arms and legs were shaking, your arched your back and writhed in pain, you knew your own Stand was fighting against it.

To Kakyoin's utter shock, Hierophant Green was violently pushed out of you by your own Stand as you let out lung-piercing coughs. Spitting the enemy out like some flesh-eating parasyte.

"WHAT-?!" Kakyoin yelped at the scene, but was then forced to let go of you as your Stand punched Hierophant Green in the face, the red-head owner feeling the hit full-force as well.

Kakyoin fell down, knocked down by the impact as you collapsed to your knees, coughing up and vomiting spit and blood.

Adrenaline pushing you through, you didn't let yourself any time to recover and took this chance to run away as fast as you could, taking sharp turns and passing through narrow paths that you prayed he wouldn't fit through or have the idea of searching.

You eventually lost track of him, gasping desperately for air as your lungs hurt in a dry and sharp pain, fed by the ceaseless pounding of your heart. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, you couldn't take it anymore.

Right as you passed the Torii gate of the temple nearest to your neighborhood, one you walked through every day, you passed out cold onto the paved holy ground.

Jotaro slowly walked his way back to the path you usually both took to come home after school. He walked and walked, but still no trace of you on the way.

Although he would never admit it, his anxiety grew inside him and his heartbeat quickened as he realised that you were way too far from home for his own liking. You were right behind him, how could this happen?

He started to feel guilty that he didn't even check if you were still following him or not. Especially when he realized that so many people, people who yearned to get under Jotaro Kujo's skin, could easily do so by taking you down and harming you, his own sister.

His train of thoughts were interrupted when he found something, or rather someone on the stoned floor of the local temple. And as he approached the figure, sure enough, his eyes widened and his heart jumped in his chest. No...

"Y/N…!"

He immediately kneeled down next to you and lifted you to his lap. He checked you up and down for injuries and noticed you had fresh bruises forming on your wrists and neck and you were bleeding from your mouth. He could not believe what he was seeing.

"Aah… Jojo…" you whimpered in a wheeze as you recognized your brother's voice and his smokey scent.

"Who did this to you? What's the name of that fucking asshole?!" He growled, his gruff voice contrasting with the care he held you with.

"H-he's a stand user like you… Kakyoin… He's after you, don't go to school tomorrow…" You croaked and coughed out while looking up at his worried eyes and your brother scoffed.

"Yare yare, you're stupid to think I won't go to school and drum his ass."

He lifted you up and carried you back home to get your injuries treated. As to be expected, Holly freaked out at your state and Jotaro received a earful from Joseph who told him to never let a young girl walk all by herself, let alone his little sister and especially with all the trouble he gets into.

The next day, you stayed home to rest for the day, making you feel much better. Thankfully you had no major injuries and the Speedwagon foundation doctors knew about Stand inflicted wounds.

You had interesting chats with the guest Abdul and Joseph spoiled you all day like you were his baby which, to be fair, you were in his eyes.

In the mean time, Jotaro had met with Kakyoin and had an inevitable fight. Unfortunately, what Kakyoin had going on was much deeper than just wanted to bully Jotaro. When Jotaro came back home, he brought Kakyoin's unconscious body and you learned about what happened to him, about Dio, the fleshbud, and why he aimed at killing Jotaro.

Knowing what had transpired and with you doing much better, you decided to go check on the boy. You felt it was important to start allover with him.

You knocked gently on the guest room's door and slid it open, revealing Kakyoin in his injured state. Your brother truly did not hold back, you thought.

"Hello Kakyoin…" You greeted a bit shyly as you walked through the door. The red head looked at you with wide eyes as he recognized you.

"Y-...you're the girl I attacked yesterday?" You nodded and he sighed sadly. "I'm deeply sorry for what I did… That was.... Despicable of me..."

"Don't worry," You approached him and knelt down at his side. "My grandfather explained what happened to you. I'm not mad. You weren't yourself."

Kakyoin then glanced at your bruised neck and looked away in shame.

"I can't believe I harmed a girl… in such a low, awful way…" You chuckled lightly at his exaggerated worry.

"Hey, I'm fine! Look, you're in an even worse state than I am. Stop fretting and let us take care of you, okay?" You gently smiled at him.

He looked at you with a soft gaze. He bit his lip and blinked back the tears that prickled in his eyes. Were all members of this family pure redempting angels of sympathy and goodness?

"Thank you, Kujo, you're very kind..."

"Just call me Y/N." You smiled as you leaned in to move out some hairs that were stuck to his frontal bandage.

"Y/N…" He softly repeated, a blush rising to his face. Even your name was beautiful, he thought to himself, never daring to say it out loud.

His heart fluttered in his chest at your feathery touch and he felt suddenly much shier. He wanted to hold that soft hand in his own, but before he could even do anything, Holly called your name from afar.

"Y/N! Can you please come here for a second?"

"I'm coming!" You replied before looking back at the boy. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll let you rest until dinner is ready."

Kakyoin nodded and laid back down on the mattress. He let out a soft 'oh' of surprise when you gripped the blanket and tucked him in sweetly before getting up and leaving, sliding the door close behind you.

He sighed, unable to fight his little goofy grin.

"Damn it… I'm falling in love…"

Old writing again. I'm really just putting the dusty stuff I should have posted a year ago. I apologize for the poor litterature.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #reader is a kujo #kujo reader #reader is Jotaro's sister #kakyoin x reader #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin #kakyoin noriaki x reader #part 3 #jojo part 3 #stardust crusaders

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dourpeep · 4 years ago

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sometimes i just think of collage student!xiao. an intimidating and aloof guy who no one dares to approach. someone who was never loved by his family except for his grandmother. idk why i just like the thought of him feeling at ease whenever his grandma pats him or just gives him a geniune smile. he only feels in peace with her. he plays the guitar. yes, and it's an electro guitar. in campus, he stays far from the crowd and just sits under a tree by himself - listening to music maybe (i bet he would like arctic monkeys) then one day he meets you - somehow. proabably you are also someone who is not fond humans and noisy places. you began to sit and read a book underneath the same tree as him once you noticed how peacful there was. when he first saw you invading his area he was annoyed, but obviously he wouldn't tell you to go away. surely, you'd get bored and leave eventually so he just ignored your presence. you weren't that content of him either at first, definitely would rather being alone but the more you spent your time there the more you realized how interesting he was - not to mantion how handsome he was- *cough cough* witnessing the way he plays an instrument was also impressive, and before you know it you grew quite fond of him despite not having a conversation yet so far. but on his end, he wasn't that delighted. still wanting to be alone yet not wanting to leave his tree. though he thinks you resemble his grandmother? maybe personality-wise. so he let's you stick around i guess ummm... i'm running out if ideas lmao i'm sorry this is a little longer than i intended it to be. i'd like to hear your ideas about collage student!xiao too tho haha <3

PRIMOOOOOOOS!!!!!

MY BAD IT'S NOT BUT WHOEVER IT IS PLS BECOME A DEDICATED ANON SO I CAN SHOW YOU MY LOVE

Ooooo what if instead of grandma it's like his elderly neighbor who lives in the same apartment complex that he does? He's been on his own for so long (maybe mid teens?) that she's become his family. Always inviting him over for tea and almond tofu (it wasn't until she first served the dish to him that he realized how much he loves it). Maybe even with the guitar that he plays originated from a conversation he had with her about how one of the things he's always wanted to do is learn to play---

Of course, following his high school graduation (which she ofc attended), they returned to her unit. He's happily enjoying a snack that she's prepared when she shuffles back into the common room and presents a large, wrapped gift. Already, Xiao knows what it is and she gets the tightest hug that he can give-

To her delight, he picks up the instrument incredibly quick and often plays for her! She absolutely adores his passion for it.

(continued under the cut!)

Cut to the middle of his first semester in college. He's still not really sure about what he wants to do but with the unyielding support of his Ahma, he's slowly figuring it out. But for now, he's practicing under the shade of the big ginko on campus. It's ironically his favorite type of tree, as silly as it seems. Especially in the autumn when the leaves start to turn gold and they flutter and dance down like hundreds of butterflies all around.

It's just after lunch that he makes his way to his usual spot when he sees you there. Of course, Xiao is irritated. No one ever comes here, so why the sudden change? But there you are, quiet with a book open in your lap.

A part of him wants to just leave and wait for his next class somewhere else, but he's stubborn. So he walks over and sits right next to you. When you ignore him, he feels ??? a little offended. How can you so blatantly ignore a whole person? Not...not that he's the same way.

This little pattern continues for a week, and then-

"You play guitar?"

The dumbest question ever, to ask someone who's holding a guitar and carries it around often that. But he holds his tongue and nods.

Another week passes and he realizes that you're in the same English course. Maybe next time there's an essay, you'll be partnered up. After these two weeks, he's surprisingly warmed up to you, though it's probably due to the fact that you're more similar than he thought you'd be. In fact, you almost remind him of his Ahma--the lovely old lady that's taken him in.

Not in a weird way though! (he has to shake his head to clear his thoughts)

But you've been patient with him, not invading his space despite existing in it, inquiring about his hobbies and enjoying the quiet when he's enjoying the quiet. It's...nice.

But with the semester quickly coming to an end, there's a pit in his stomach when he realizes that he might not be able to see you- after all, you're taking the same English course but who's to say you're not graduating soon? Or transferring? Or even--the thought makes his chest clench--moving?

It's definitely not unheard of.

So during finals week, he finally gets the guts to ask you if you'd like to study for that English essay coming up. He knows that you're both alright at the subject and don't really need to prepare for it (not when the professor is just doing a rehash of an earlier essay), but the idea of this lost opportunity when so much time has already passed doesn't sit right with him.

His Ahma is the one who actually suggests this. He's told her all about you (and when he finally brings you to visit her, she'll let you know all about the good things that Xiao has said to his utter embarrassment), and seeing how smitten he's become it's only natural that she wants to help out.

It's a cafe. The very place that she had her first date with her late husband (who, funnily enough, she says was so very similar to young Xiao).

You're there and waiting by the time that he arrives, backpack on the floor and binder open with papers spread on one side of the table.

When you notice him and look up, the smile that spreads on your face--

Maybe...he didn't mind you as much as he did that fateful day beneath the ginko tree.

#xiao #xiao x reader #college au #adventures in college #genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #imagines #headcanons #anon asks #I'm....very passionate about college au Xiao and Albedo #this whole thing was 770~ words oh my god

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coveredinbees · 4 years ago

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Kate and Anthony Week - Day 1.

Prompt: "Jealousy and all it's cousins"

19th September, 1817.

It was supposed to be a gift for her husband.

Kate herself had never been particularly interested in the opera - it was all theatrics and arias. Kate had always been a great lover of music, but frankly if she wanted to sit in a darkened room for three hours and listen to somebody squalling, she had two perfectly noisy infants waiting for her at home.

No, operas were more Anthony's sort of thing. And it being his birthday, she couldn't very well deny his request to take in the latest production of Così fan tutte on Drury Lane, especially as it was a particular favourite of his.

Why, they hadn't been out since before Miles was born, he had said. He wanted to spend time with his wife, he had said.

Ha. Wife. It was almost funny.

Riding back to Bridgerton House in their carriage, Kate made sure to sit as far away from her husband as was physically possible. He wouldn't look at her, his face turned to the window, but she could still see his reflection the glass and it was clear he was trying, and failing, to smother a grin.

Anger flared in her, and it flushed her skin.

"What, pray tell, is so funny?" she asked, calmly.

That just about broke him. The damnable man keeled forward in his seat, letting out a bellowing laugh that shook the entire carriage. Kate folded her arms across her chest; and damn it, she knew it probably made her look petulant and her breasts were still swollen and too sore to be crushed like this, but she couldn't help it. Uncrossing her arms would leave her too vulnerable, and as a woman still trying to get used to her post-pregnancy body, she already felt vulnerable enough.

"Oh, god, Kate!" He wheezed, "I'm so sorry! You must admit, it's-..." he guffawed again, barely able to get the words out, "... oh god, it is rather funny. I thought you were going to kill her."

Funny?

"Kill her? No. Although I might still kill you." Her iciness only seemed to spur him on. It was like he couldn't stop himself. He was laughing so hard, she genuinely thought he might make himself sick.

Ordinarily, she loved arguing with Anthony. She loved the passion and the fury of it all. But this felt different.

It wasn’t bad enough that their evening had started out with a heavy spattering of rain, but halfway through the first intermission of Cosi fan tutte, (somewhere between Alfonso gloating and the sisters crying), Anthony had left her alone in their box to retrieve a glass of claret. He had taken rather longer than usual, and when she popped her head out of the door, she caught him in the hallway, chatting amiably to the most beautiful-looking, brightly-adorned woman she had ever seen. A lady of the night.

And this woman - this ladybird - had looked up at Kate's husband like he was the most fascinating man in the world. She had smiled at him. And worse, this woman had the sort of waistline that Kate had never been able to aspire to, even before birthing two children.

Kate had not been mollified to learn that this woman - this Donna Bianca - had been an old acquaintance of her husband's; a souvenir from his rakish youth.

"I just can't believe you're jealous. Oh Kate, you have no idea. This is rich. I haven't laughed this hard in years."

"Yes," she said dryly, "I'd gathered."

"Oh, don't be like that." he sidled up close to her, his mouth dangerously close to her ear. "After all this time, I can't believe you get jealous. You certainly know how to boost a man's self esteem." He pressed the lightest of kisses to the side of her neck. "My Kate. My wife. As if there could ever be anyone else."

"Don't." she leaned out of his reach. She was embarrassed to realise that she was perilously close to tears. "You can save your kisses for Donna Bianca."

"You can't seriously think..." she heard, rather than saw, him pause for a moment. His hand touched her face. "Kate, look at me."

"I can't."

His voice was deadly seriously now, all trace of amusement gone. "Look at me, Kate."

He turned her head, his silk gloves feeling cool against her overheated face. He searched her eyes. "Oh god, Kate. Please don't cry. Don't cry, my love."

He placed soft kisses on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. Wiping away a tear, she realised.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have teased you." another kiss. He is mouth travelled down her face, closer and closer to her lips. "The idea that I could ever be with anyone else, you don't see how absurd it is, do you? You're everything to me. You know you're everything to me."

His kisses were soft and despite herself, Kate felt herself relax into his embrace. He kissed her properly then, his fingers in her hair, his mouth moving gently, almost as if he was scared he would startle her.

After a moment, she felt herself being pulled into his lap. He stopped kissing her then, burying his face into her hair.

He sighed, his words were little more than warm breath against her neck.

"From the moment I was dunked in the Serpentine, there was never anyone else." he whispered, "I thought you knew that. I am yours, completely."

#bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton #dailybridgerton #jonathan bailey #kate x anthony #kanthony #kate sheffield #kate sharma #kate x anthony fic #kathony fic #kateandanthonyweek21 #kateandanthonyweek

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

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Black Waltz [1/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 13.2k

➜ Genres: 70% Fluff, 30% Angst, Butler!AU

➜ Summary: When your parents pass away in an accident, a family secret is revealed. The only person you can trust and rely on is your personal butler, Kim Taehyung.

The caskets are small. You’re not sure why but you always imagined that they’d be bigger. The undertaker already reassured you thrice that the bodies of your parents fit perfectly. Perhaps they were always that small. “Poor girl.” Someone murmurs in the corner, not realizing that you can hear above the discordant sobs. “She’s already such a weak child. How will she handle this?” “How do you suppose?” a man replies in a sharp mutter. “She’s just become one of the richest people in Trulia overnight. Look at this entire estate. All thanks to her father’s watch business.” “Will you have more delicacy?” she bites back in a whisper. “A man and woman just died.” You don’t bother looking at them. You don't cry either. Not a single tear sheds down your cheeks as you look through your netted veil to the closed coffins belonging to your parents. Even the gardener is sobbing into his hat, but you don’t. Your expression remains stoic. A man approaches, dark hair and darker suit. He bows his head towards the caskets and then turns to you standing by. You recognize him the few times you saw him in passing. He’s your father’s worker, Yoongi. “My condolences, Miss Y/N.” “Thank you.” “Your father was a great man. It was a privilege to work under his guidance. I’m sorry this happened.” You nod and he takes that you don’t want to extend the conversation and leaves you be. It was an unfortunate accident. More specifically, a railroad accident. It claimed the lives of many and that also included your parents coming home from a trip to Germany. “Eugene!” Suddenly, Uncle Seokjin throws himself over the casket. A few distraught folks try to pull him back, but he continues to howl, “How could you leave your only brother like this!” Aunt Marie cries louder into her handkerchief. It’s noisy. In the midst of the ruckus, the corner of your eye catches an older man with brunette hair. The wrinkles crease around his eyes with his sorrowful expression and he takes off his top hat as he approaches. You watch as he places a rose in front of your mother’s casket and then he turns to leave without addressing you. “Oh, Y/N!” Your attention is ripped away by your hysterically sobbing uncle grabbing your hands. “Poor Y/N!” Someone takes him away before you get the chance to shove him off. // Everyone gathers in the dining room not even a full day after the funeral. The wallpaper is dark, black trim that matches the hardwood. The long table is mahogany and there’s an unnecessary golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. You’ve always hated this room and its decorations, especially the heavy curtains that block out the sunlight. “Y/N!” Your uncle draws out your name and smiles widely as he comes before you with open arms. He gives you a quick squeeze much to your dismay and then lets go. The middle-aged man searches your expression. “My favourite niece.” “I’m your only niece.” “Which makes you even more special to me.” His words are sweet. He shakes his head. “What did you ever do to deserve this?” You wonder the same thing. Aunt Marie clears her throat and Uncle Seokjin flounders. “Right, right, we should take our seats.” Your eyes lift to your cousin who smiles at you, dressed in a navy frock coat with an ascot tie. “It’s been a while, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d notice but I was greeting guests at the funer—” “I noticed.” You cut Hoseok off mid-sentence with his mouth still open. Aunt Marie chastised him under her breath to sit down and at the same time, the family lawyer enters with his briefcase. He’s been working with your family before you were even born. You could feel his sincerity when he spoke at the memorial. “Good evening everyone. Y/N.” Mr. Kim — Namjoon as your parents familiarly called him — nods at you in sympathetic acknowledgment and takes his place at the head of the table where your father once sat. He reaches for his briefcase and opens it up for a sealed envelope inside. “I never thought there would be a day like this. Most unfortunate indeed.” “A heartbreaking tragedy,” Aunt Marie agrees. “But no time like the present for us to fulfill their last wishes.” Mr. Kim slips out the crisp papers and then his eyes flicker up at you. You subtly motion to him that you’re ready for it to be read and he clears his throat. Your relatives are sitting on the edge of the seats, hands clasped on the table in anticipation. “I, Arden Eugene, resident in the City of Lennox, Country of Trulia, being of sound mind, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all prior wills and codicils made by me. I appoint my wife, Arden Hana, to inherit all my assets.” The lawyer continues, “In the event where my wife is unable to inherit...all my assets, including the investments, savings and the estate, liquid and otherwise, I leave my daughter, Arden Y/N, in their entirety.” Your aunt’s jaw ticks, your uncle has a face of disgust and your cousin’s jaw has dropped. You’re not sure why they’re so offended. It’s not a surprise. This is what you expected. That is until Mr. Kim adds the word— “temporarily.” Your head turns. The lawyer’s mouth continues to move. “Until the date and time when her half-sibling will be found.” You’re not sure what happens first. The gasps echoing in your ears, Aunt Marie nearly falling off her seat in laughter, your uncle standing up from his spot, or your own heartbeat thundering in your ears as blood drains from your face. You feel ill, like you might throw up right on the table. A half-sibling. Another child. There was another child all along. “—to which ownership of all asserts will thereby be shifted onto them.” “What is the meaning of this?!” Uncle Seokjin protests. “What child?!” “I’m sorry, Mr. Arden. I only know as much as you do.” Mr. Kim’s eyes place on you before he resumes reading. “I give my daughter, Arden Y/N, a pocket watch.” The amused snicker of your aunt is all too clear. A small box is placed in front of you. It’s the size of your hand, a deep wine red. For a moment, you want to huck it on the floor, but with your breath held in your throat, you nudge the lid open. It’s a perfectly round contraption, the cover golden and perfectly polished, reflecting against the candlelight. You flip it open to find handles ticking away as seconds and minutes pass. “To my brother, Seokjin, my sister, Marie, and her son, Hoseok, I wish them the very best in the rest of their lives.” Aunt Marie scoffs. Uncle Seokjin collapses back onto his seat. The will is finished being read and the paper is folded. The room is full of a tense silence as you stare at the watch. Mr. Kim clears his throat again. “As you are aware of the laws, Y/N, all assets are entitled to you temporarily. But as you have no husband to collect the inheritance, it makes things a bit more complicated. You may still live at this estate and continue the company, but you cannot alter it in any way. That includes liquidating, removing, expanding, or withdrawing. You do not have the jurisdiction to alter the company or any of the investments either.” Everything is essentially frozen. They left you with nothing. “Yes.” The corner of Aunt Marie’s lip curls and she sits back. “Even if you are twenty one, you need a husband to own land and wealth. Trulia’s quite old-fashioned, isn’t it?” Trulia — a small country that bridges France and England together, cutting the English channel into half. You’ve lived here all your life, born and raised, and never hated it more. “Y/N.” Hoseok breaks your train of thought and you look him in the eyes. Your expression remains impassive. “Did you know you had a sibling?” You hate it all. // The bedroom is shrouded in darkness as you sit back in the armchair. You’re loosely holding the cold, golden chain of the pocket watch, studying it as it swings back and forth. It’s like a clam, but without any engravings, designs or even ridges on the surface. It’s heavy, perfectly new and polished, the time precise. When both handles of the pocket watch come to twelve, the grandfather clock from downstairs chimes throughout the mansion. Your other hand crumples into a fist and with a strangled cry in your throat, you hurl the pocket watch across the room with all your might. It clatters to the ground, ear-splitting. A figure emerges from the shadows, leans down and picks it up with his white gloves. “Madam, are you not well?” “Don’t call me madam,” you snap at him. Taehyung comes closer, his dark hair slicked back, dressed in the usual black tailcoat and trousers. His smile is tender. “You are the head of the household now.” Arm propped up on the armrest, you press your hand to your forehead. “It makes me feel old.” “Then I won’t, my lady. I apologize.” He places the pocket watch on the vanity table and comes to your side. You look up at him, wondering if you look as bitter as you feel. “Even when they’re dead, they have to have the last laugh, Taehyung. They spared me nothing.” Your eyes sting painfully, the lump at the bottom of your throat aching. Anger has coloured your vision red. You’re so full of hate, but you wonder why most of all, it hurts. “I can’t believe my parents didn’t love me even after their death.” Taehyung kneels and takes your hands that are crumpled hard enough that your nails sink into your skin. He earnestly gazes at you. “You have me. I’ll be with you until the end.” He promises it rather recklessly. But he’s more than just your butler. More than just a worker in this house. He’s been a friend since childhood. The only one you can fully trust. Taehyung’s expression softens even more and he reaches out. He hugs you, propping your chin on his shoulder, placing his arms around your back. “You can cry.” You scoff. “You’re stepping over the line.” “Then discipline me.” You bite the inside of your cheek, vision becomes foggy as tears hang onto your lash line. “Why should I cry for those people? If...if anything, I should cry for my own circumstances.” Taehyung smiles. “Cry then.” For the first time, you let go. You sob into his shoulder, grasp his coat with tight fingers, allowing yourself to be at grief’s mercy. Wails choke out of your chest and the thick lump finally escapes your throat, leaving it raw and aching in a different way. The tears stain a path down from your welling eyes to your cheeks and then Taehyung’s shoulder like a chilling rainstorm. It feels like minutes tick away until you’ve cried yourself to exhaustion. By then, you’re so weak and you can barely open your swollen eyes. But Taehyung guides you to bed and pulls the covers. He tucks you in, making sure you’re warm. “Get some sleep.” You nod and he extinguishes the flame in the oil lamp. Sleep comes easier than you expect. // When dawn arrives, the light of the sun comes through the white curtains to cast against your eyes. You stir uncomfortably before your lids flutter open. The world is bleary in your fogged vision and your body is heavy. You don’t want to get up, but you have to. “Good morning, mistress.” Taehyung enters, dressed in his black trousers and tailcoat with a white waistcoat underneath. His hair is pushed back in a windswept look. He sets down the golden tray balancing a water bowl and cloth. “Glad to see you’re already awake.” “Couldn’t sleep more if I wanted to.” You round the bed and collect the water to wash your face before pressing the cloth to your skin. Taehyung steps towards your wardrobe. “Would you like me to replace the curtains?” “It’s fine. I don’t want to wear anything too restricting today.” He hums. “Then will an aesthetic dress do? Green?” “Is there a dark blue?” Taehyung swiftly takes out a simple gown, cut loosely with a few frills at the neckline and a red, ribbon sash around the waist. The shade is a midnight blue and perfectly to your tastes as if he read your mind. It’s without any restrictive corset too. Heaven knows today is going to be suffocating enough, you don’t need to make it more difficult for yourself. You stand in front of the three panel mirror folded into a nook and lift your arms up. Without batting a single lash or looking twice, Taehyung undresses you from the silk sleepwear and helps you into the camisole before draping the dress over your figure. You sit at the vanity and he gently brushes out your hair. “Taehyung.” “Yes, my lady?” You look at him through the mirror. “Do you think I can do this?” His eyes flicker up and he smiles. “Of course you can.” “What if they don’t find me intimidating enough?” “Then I’ll stand beside you and help you with that.” What he says has you bursting out in laughter. You spin around in your seat, and Taehyung’s completely unsuspecting when you squeeze his cheeks together. His rounded eyes blink and his lips mimic a fish’s. It makes you grin. “You’re more of a puppy than a guard dog.” But well, you suppose it’s not important what the truth is. The illusion is what matters most. He pins half of your hair up and you barely powder your face before you’re leaving for the family meeting. On the way, you brace yourself, only temporarily interrupted by the gardener, Park Jimin, a man who’s been working on the estate for the past three years. He takes care of the garden well, better than your mother ever could. Her roses always withered. He, on the other hand, has quite the green thumb. “Good morning, madam.” Jimin greets you merrily. “Good morning, Jimin.” You slow in the entrance hall and Taehyung behind you does as well. “I hope you and the others are doing well. Thank you for still being here.” The young male blushes. “We’re just doing our jobs, ma’am. You already gave us a whole week’s break which we’re more than thankful for. We just had to come back for the funeral to honour Mr. and Mrs. Arden. So there’s no need to worry about us.” “I’m glad then.” Your smile eases. “Please continue, don’t let me stop you.” He nods and goes on his way. The moment Jimin’s gone, your expression hardens as you enter the main lounge area. There your uncle, aunt, and cousin are seated around and you recognize your father’s worker, Yoongi as well. You’re not sure since when this house became a guest home where anyone can enter and loiter in as they please. You’ll have to have a word with Taehyung later. “Y/N! My dear niece!” Uncle Seokjin’s loud and he stands from the armchair with an enormous smile that looks like it’s about to break his face. At that, everyone’s head swivels around. Yoongi slowly rises from his seat as well. But your uncle continues, “I hope you had a good sleep. I could barely get a wink thinking about your father and our happy days. Speaking of which, I was thinking about how empty this house will be with your parents gone. Isn’t it time for you to get married? You’ve been of age for a while. I happen to know this very kind young man from England. His name is Mark. I’d be happy to introduce—” “Uncle Seokjin.” You stop him. “I’d rather not have you speak about my private affairs in front of a stranger.” His pupils flicker to Yoongi and his mouth closes with a smile. “Right.” You turn to said man and he nods his head in acknowledgment. “Would you like to have tea in the parlor?” “No, this will only take a moment. I’m sure you’re already busy. My apologies for coming unannounced.” “It’s not a problem. What is this about?” “Your father’s company,” Yoongi says. “There is a client waiting for a shipment and since we closed we’ve been unable to finish the order. Would you like to refuse it?” “No. It’s fine.” You hold in your sigh and press your finger against your forehead for a moment. Then, you come to a decision. “You may continue and run business as usual. You may act as the temporary lead, Min Yoongi.” At the announcement, Hoseok rushes upwards with his jaw gone slack. “I could!” Heads turn towards him. “I-If you need me to! I could take over! T-Temporarily, of course!” Your eyes narrow into your cousin, your expression cold. “There’s no need, Hoseok. I’m sure Mr. Min here will already have his hands full. There'll be no time to properly train you and no way you could take over.” “But—!” You ignore him to address your father’s right hand. You’re not sure if this is the right decision, but Yoongi comes across as sensible and rational. He doesn’t seem to have any malicious intention or ulterior motives either. At least your father trusted him, so you will too. “I’ll take a look at the finances and figure out the details soon enough of where the company will move forward from now on. But for now, I will entrust you to it. Please proceed as you normally would.” Yoongi nods. “Thank you, Miss Y/N.” You shift on your feet and look to your butler whose height towers your own. “Taehyung, can you please see Mr. Min out?” He puts his gloved hand over his heart and bows. “Certainly.” The two men leave the room while your cousin crosses his arms and drops back down into the sofa with a displeased face. Aunt Marie’s eyes are narrowed in on you and she sighs, shaking her head. She comments, “You’re quite close with that butler of yours, Y/N. A bit too close, if you ask me.” Your brow cocks. “You don’t have any authority in this household to make such comments, Aunt Marie.” “I am merely looking out for you, Y/N,” she quips with an underlying sharpness to it. “You never know what rumours can get out and they can get quite nasty. It wouldn’t do you any good to be in a scandal. It’s best if you weren’t so close to the such lowly—” “I choose who I want to affiliate myself with.” Your voice booms throughout the room, unknowing to how Taehyung’s already returned and that he’s standing just outside of the room. “Taehyung is my most trusted confidant. To insult my personal aid is to insult my choices and thereby, me. From now on, I will not take such things lightly.” Aunt Marie shuffles back with a cough and the room’s swept into an uncomfortable silence. Taehyung smiles to himself and notices a timid maid rolling a cart down the hall towards the room. He takes over and dismisses her to which she’s grateful for, knowing the room is tense. But Taehyung is unaffected as he enters with an exaggeratedly cordial expression. He places down a cake stand of pastries on the table, then the teacups. “There, there. Let’s not get so upset in the morning.” Your uncle sits down and you find your place in front of the fireplace and the imposing family portrait above the mantle. In the meanwhile, Taehyung pours the tea with one hand in front of him. It’s earl grey, your favourite. You sip it warmly while your expression remains stoic. Uncle Seokjin clears his throat. “Your cousin, aunt and I have been discussing, Y/N—” “And?” He smiles. “We think it’s best if we...join forces.” The tea is no longer pleasant on your palate, so you set it down on the porcelain saucer. “How so?” “Well….” “We don’t know who this half sibling of yours is, Y/N,” your aunt cuts to the chase. “Who knows who they could be or what they would want with us! It is simply outrageous that an outsider could come and collect everything that your parents have worked so hard for and take everything away. Your father clearly had some misunderstandings when he gave us nothing and you so little. I believe he must not have been well when he wrote that will. There must be some mistake.” Uncle Seokjin nods and Hoseok finds the opportunity to jump in. “I have a friend who’s working in law. There must be ways we can challenge the will or at least find a way to claim back what should be rightfully ours!” ‘Rightfully ours’. You want to laugh. “So you want to sneak the money away?” “You shouldn’t put it that way.” Your uncle laughs heartily. “It’s more like making a wrong a right!” “Yes!” Hoseok enthusiastically nods. “We can’t just let someone else steal it, Y/N! What if tomorrow someone comes knocking on the door claiming to be your brother or sister, and they want to take everything away?” Aunt Marie offers a smile. “It’s best if we work together on this matter.” Taehyung steps behind you, shadowing your form as your relatives look at you expectedly. They have a point, but you’re not at all tempted by their most generous offer. “No.” “Pardon?” “I said no.” Your arms cross and you sit back. “Everything is already in my name, the estate, the investments, the company, albeit temporarily, but I’ll figure out what is to come on my own.” Hoseok’s mouth draws open. Your uncle is unable to muster a rebuttal. You scoff, rolling your eyes as if their very proposition is ridiculous. It’s too easy to play the villain — and it’s the only way you know how to protect yourself. “And why should I have to accept your help and have to split up my parents’ wealth when I can take it all for myself.” “Why you!” Aunt Marie stands up, face reddened. “Ingrate!” Her hand raises, arm extending back. But before she can slap you like she wants and knock your head to the side, Taehyung snatches her wrist. He’s faster than anyone can blink and he clutches her back, glare boring into her skin. Her teeth grit and she rips back her hand to her chest. You rise to your feet, eyes placed at the god awful antique cabinet on the other side of the room. “If that’s all everyone wants to say, then you can leave now. Thank you for coming to the funeral but from now on, none of you have permission to enter this estate until I announce otherwise.” Your aunt scoffs and with her remaining pride, she stomps out. Hoseok’s brows are knitted together at a loss while your uncle is already trying to reason with you. But you leave through the doorway and allow Taehyung to take care of the rest. // The streets are full in the afternoon bustle — hooves clacking as horses pull the street car, ladies with parasols giggling as they cross, shouting coming from the tenement windows above, wheels of the carriages rolling along the dirt. It’s the symphony of the city. But he leaves it all behind for a short carriage ride away. It’s a short uphill climb on foot that follows, but he swiftly gets to the magnificent mansion on a stretch of green behind black gates. It’s quaint here. A girl in a maid ensemble scurries over and opens up the gates for him. “Right this way.” The man is led up the path and he removes his top hat as he enters. The manor is darker on the inside, the wallpaper a deep shade, black trim matching the hardwood. He knows every inch of this place is ridden with wealth, from the chandeliers, the ornate carpet underneath his feet to the glass cabinets full of antiques. It’s old money that will last for centuries. But he doesn’t get to admire it for too long. A taller man with slicked back hair wearing a black tailcoat approaches. “If you’d follow me, sir.” He nods and silently shadows the butler to the west wing. They twist down the corridor before turning a left to two large doors. The butler opens them and he hesitantly enters after. There’s a figure behind the desk at the very back wall, an inked pen in her hand. He muses that the lady looks much too young to be residing so deep inside of this mansion surrounded in papers in the low lighting. She might be even younger than himself. “Taehyung, stay.” You mutter out of the corner of your mouth before he can leave. The doors shut and you finally look up as Taehyung takes his place beside you. “You are Detective Jeon?” He has brunette hair and brightened doe eyes, rather boyish looks overall. But you know better than to underestimate anyone simply based on appearances. “Yes, ma’am. I am Jeon Jungkook from the Bennett Detective Agency.” He comes up to you with his briefcase in hand and gingerly places a business card on the desk. “I believe you contacted me for a private investigation.” “Yes. I did.” You stand, going to the seating area and he follows suit. “Would you like tea?” “No, ma’am. I’m fine, but thank you very much.” You nod, noticing how Detective Jeon’s eyes flicker to Taehyung who comes to pour your cup. He finally asks, “How may I be of service?” You take a sip, savouring the flavour on your palate before placing the floral porcelain cup down. Your expression is indifferent as you sit back. “As you may have heard, my father and mother recently passed away in a railway accident.” “I read it from the newspaper. My condolences. Your father was a very charitable man and did a lot for Trulia.” “Yes, well, they left behind a will and revealed that I happen to have a half-sibling that is to inherit this estate.” It goes silent. A pin could drop in the room and echo. You inhale a breath and continue, “I want you to find this sibling of mine and tell me who they are, where they are, and what they’re doing. If you can do it, I’ll pay you a generous sum. However much you want. However long it takes.” Detective Jeon nods. He doesn’t seem too surprised or curious. You suppose he must be used to this sort of thing in his line of work. It was through your connections that you found him. He’s an upcoming private detective, but what he lacks in experience, he makes up in tenacity and foresight. He’s the best that Trulia has. “Do you have any leads?” You hum. It’s remarkable he asks that. You’ve been thinking about it — picking apart every single memory, all instances there could have been a hint, each time you could have been blinded to such a secret. “I don’t have any leads, but I have suspicions.” The detective leans in closer, doe eyes placed on yours. “I believe my sibling may be older than me and I believe contrary to any initial hunches, it may be my mother’s child.” Maybe your father knew and something had happened. Maybe he was ridden with guilt and that’s why he decided to give everything to your sibling. “I remember, years ago, my mother came in one drunken night and she told me about her previous lover. She was supposed to marry him and they even ran away together, but my grandparents found them and she was forced to marry my father. It’s possible that she may have had a child with him before I was born. And it may be possible he came to the funeral.” Detective Jeon takes out his notepad and begins scribbling. He bobs his head and you inhale a staggering breath as you continue to talk. You never thought you would have to divulge into your parents’ secrets after their death, that you would have to reveal all you know to a stranger. But you have to do what it takes if you want to find this person before your aunt and uncle do. “I saw a man about your height. He looked old, about fifty or so. He put a rose at my mother’s casket and left without speaking to me. I have never seen him before in my life.” “Did you see anything else about him?” “Nothing that would be helpful. He had brown hair, but he was wearing black as everyone else was. He left before I could get to him.” “Did your mother ever tell you anything else? Where they ran away to? What they were planning to do afterwards?” “No. She only ever spoke to me about it on that one occasion.” Frankly, you’re not sure if you want to know, but you push past the thought. Detective Jeon notes it and something prickles in your mind. “If you can, I want you to also look into Park Jimin as well.” His eyes lift off his paper. “He’s a gardener that works at this estate,” you tell him. “He’s always been close to my mother.” And unusually so. She never cared much for the help, but you’ve seen them walking together before and conversing on numerous occasions. “I’ll see what I can do for you.” The detective smiles and once the conversation concludes, he takes his briefcase. “Oh and Detective Jeon.” Your voice stops him on his way out and he turns. “It would be best if no one finds out about this, namely my relatives. They can be quite...nosy.” He looks at you and smiles. “Understood.” Taehyung sees him out and you take a moment to recline back into the armchair, gandering at the many bookcases lining the walls. You never thought you would one day sit in your father’s study like this. He was in here more often than any other room and somehow, it always seemed so big when you were a child. Taehyung comes back within minutes and you can tell by the expression on his face that he has questions. The corner of your mouth tugs and you languidly bat your hand. “Ask away.” “What are you planning to do when you find them?” “I’ll kill them, of course.” You get onto your feet, slowly rounding the desk. There’s a glass paperweight on the surface and you pick it up to fiddle with it. There’s a floral print inside and it catches the light no matter what direction you turn it to. You gave this to your father for his birthday one year. “I can’t return to being that naive person like you hope I will, Taehyung.” You’re not children anymore. As much as you wish, you can’t go back to that simple time. “I know.” You twist on your heel, looking him straight into his eyes. “Then will you help me?” He closes the distance in two strides and leans down to take your other hand. His plush lips kiss against your knuckles and he swears his loyalty yet again, “I’ll do anything for you, mistress.” // The next afternoon, you gather the entire estate’s servants together — the cooks, kitchen workers, maids and footmen. They look nervous at the sudden impromptu gathering, glancing at one another and quietly murmuring. You clear your throat loudly and their attention is taken. “As you all know, recently my father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Arden, have passed away. And I have become the new head of household. You have done a well enough job to be here and your services are much appreciated. For those who came to give their condolences at the memorial, it is something I will not forget. However, your loyalties must belong to me, not to my late parents.” There are worried glimpses exchanged and you begin to pace in front of them. “As I am now the lady of the Arden estate, I would like to begin anew.” You can’t afford to feed so many mouths, considering all the wealth is frozen. You’ll be paying with what you personally have until you can find a solution with Mr. Kim. Not to mention, you’re not sure who can be trusted, who your uncle and aunt have already persuaded. The last thing you need is extra eyes and ears in this house. “From now on, Taehyung will be the manager of this household. He will see to it that the household will still function. If you have any questions, ask him. If you have any concerns, then ask him. He will come to me with whatever he cannot solve.” “Few of you will stay and I thank the rest for serving this house for so long. I will make sure your severance pay is generous enough until you will be able to find work elsewhere. If your name is called, you may stay.” Taehyung, standing behind you, begins reading from the list. One of the three names called is none other than Jimin himself. The gardener smiles out of relief, eyes crinkled into half-moons. “Thank you, madam.” You nod and once it’s done, you leave for the study as Taehyung takes care of the rest. You don’t want to stay around to see disheartened expressions or hear pleas to stay. So you’re resigned to watch out of the upper windows instead. You’ve allowed them a few days to leave, but some are already taking their exit with their belongings with them, tearfully looking back at the mansion. It’s difficult but it needs to be done. “My lady…” You hear Taehyung come from behind you. You shift away from the window. “You’ll help me look for new help?” “Of course.” “Do you think four maids and one cook will suffice?” You count on your fingers. There’s already Jimin taking care of the gardens, you kept one maid so he’ll only have to hire three, and there’s a trustworthy kitchen maid too. It’s not like you need that many hands to take care of the estate. “Or will you need more help?” “That’ll be fine.” The edge of Taehyung’s mouth pulls. “I could technically do it all, if you’d like.” “And have you fainting on me from exhaustion?” You notice lint on his coat tail, so you come up to him and gently dust off his shoulder. “I think not.” Taehyung’s sly smile tugs. “Do you consider me delicate?” “No. But I am,” you clarify, looking up at the man. “If you’re not here twenty four seven attending to me, then what would be the point of having you around?” You brush past him, mumbling, “Can’t have you in the kitchen when you’re supposed to be by my side.” The man stifles back a laugh to himself, yet his grin is all too evident. “Yes, madam.” You glare at him over your shoulder, but it reminds you, “Tell the new help not to call me madam. You know I don’t like it.” He puts his hand over his heart and bows exaggeratedly. “Yes, young mistress.” You scoff. The title is not that much different and he knows it too. He always knows how to be cheeky, but you let it go because he’s Taehyung. It’s not like you can ever be upset with him for long. He’s already won before the game’s begun. // A few days later, there’s a knock at your door. It’s unusual. Taehyung never knocks and your suspicions are confirmed when an unfamiliar girl is sticking her nose into the room. “Umm...pardon me.” It’s an unfamiliar girl in a maid ensemble, a black dress with white trim and a ruffled apron with a headpiece. Her hair is dark and shiny, features sharp. You assume she must be one of the new ones. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find Butler Kim, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Kim, the lawyer— I think, is in the parlor. He instructed me to tell you that he’s brought it.” You nod and get up. But you stop for a second and come eye to eye with the girl. “What’s your name?” “Jane.” She smiles to herself as if she’s happy you’ve made a note of it. “If you could clear the teacup from the table.” “Oh! Certainly!” She rushes over and you don’t linger. True to what’s been told, the middle-aged lawyer is sitting in his chair and he staggers up as you come into the room. “It’s good to see you well, Y/N, and that you’ve taken charge of this estate so well.” “Thank you.” You motion to the armchair. “Please, sit.” “I brought your parent’s business expense reports as you asked.” Mr. Kim takes it from his briefcase and hands you the thick folder after settling down. “I didn’t think I would have it until I remembered there was a box in my office closet meant for this sort of thing. My office ended up branching out and opening a professional accounting firm a year ago, you see, so we no longer do bookkeeping.” You flip open to find your father’s writing, then pages of Mr Kim’s. The reports match up with what he says. It stops a year ago. You might need to get into contact with Yoongi to find the more recent expense documents. “Thank you for this. It will be very helpful to me.” The lawyer nods. “Anytime, child. Now about what you talked to me about last time….” “Yes, how is that coming along?” He sharply inhales. “As I suspected, it will be difficult to challenge the will in court, Y/N. It hasn’t been done before and it may be costly. For now, my first submission is still in process, so we’ll have to see if we can even speak to a judge. I’ll let you know how that comes along.” You’re grateful he’s still of help to you. He's older than your father is, but you suppose he must enjoy his line of work to not retire at this age. “Mr. Kim, if I may ask a question. Were...you aware that I had a sibling?” The man smiles sadly. “Unfortunately, I was not. The will was sealed and I was simply entrusted to read it to you all. It took me by surprise as much as it did for you.” If you didn’t know, the family lawyer wouldn’t either. You wonder how many other well-kept secrets there are in your family. That night, you look over the documents while burning the midnight oil. As usual Taehyung insists that you head to bed when the grandfather clock chimes past twelve, but after you tell him to go retire first, he stays silent beside you. Taehyung’s too stubborn sometimes, but you don’t tell him his company is pleasant to have. “Huh.” “What’s the matter?” “I didn’t know my father donated to St. Andale Orphanage.” You squint, reading the barely legible writing. You don’t remember that happening or it being posted in the newspaper. “It must’ve been done anonymously,” Taehyung comments and you make a noise in agreeance. But it’s strange. Your father always liked to have his name on donations so that people would know and it would be written in the newspaper. It’s not like him to go quiet and he gave quite generously too. “I’d like to go to the orphanage tomorrow.” You look up at Taehyung. “In the morning.” “I’ll arrange that for you,” he says with a smile. You close the books. “I’d like that man to join me as well. My father’s worker, Min Yoongi.” At that, Taehyung’s brow quirks. “For?” “He was close to my father, right? He might know something I don’t.” // The orphanage is a worn brick on the south side of the city in the poorer area, yet it somehow looks to be holding up well. It’s unlike the other buildings around that’s crumbling. You wonder if it’s your father’s doing that made this place half-decent. You can hear the laughter of children in the plot of grass fenced in. You watch them at the distance while strolling the perimeter with Taehyung to your left and Yoongi to your right. “It is quite cloudy today.” “It looks like winter is coming soon.” Yoongi looks at you. “If you’re cold, we could go inside.” “No, it’s quite alright. I don’t get to enjoy the cold weather often and it can be nice.” You turn with a small smile. “I might be like my father in that way.” “Yes, I remember he told me he quite enjoyed the snow.” His eyes gloss over, reminiscent. “Your father was a very respectable man.” “He was a good businessman and an even less attentive father,” you hum and feel Yoongi’s gaze on your profile, but he doesn’t get a chance to reply. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but did my father ever speak about his private life, Mr. Min?” “Yoongi is fine. But no, not frequently at least. I only remember he once told me about flowers he was going to get for his wife before he headed home and I remember he spoke about you a few times.” “Me?” “Yes.” Yoongi offers a polite smile. “He told me that you were quite talented in your personal studies.” You take a glance at him. There’s not a single trace on his expression that lets you know he’s lying or exaggerating, but you still find it hard to believe. “In his will, he gave me a pocket watch. I was hoping you’d know more about it. It’s gold and without any designs or engravings—” “Gold?” Yoongi gives you a peculiar expression. “The company doesn’t make gold pocket watches.” “Pardon?” He explains, “We found that the profits weren’t worth the costs, so what’s used is silver, bronze, ceramic or even glass. In the third collection, there were some gold watches, but you said there weren’t any designs or engravings on it?” “There’s nothing.” The corner of the man's mouth pulls. “Mr. Arden must have personally handcrafted it for you then.” Your brows furrow. You’re not sure how you feel upon hearing that, so you cast a glimpse to Taehyung who’s been quietly listening and he smiles at you. Yoongi clears his throat a moment after. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this, Miss Y/N, but considering it’s about your family, I think you have a right to know.” Your head turns over in alarm. “What is it?” “Your cousin, I believe, Hoseok. He’s been….showing up to the company often. He’s been wanting to book a meeting with me for a week now and he waits until I’m done working to try to speak to me. I suspect he wants to take over the business.” You’re not surprised. “I’m receiving that kind of pressure in regards to the wealth and estate, Yoongi, and a hundred times worse. I think you have it in you to handle my overbearing cousin.” Yoongi laughs from his chest as if he already figured you didn’t have any real solution. But based on your answer, it’s allowing him to do whatever he wants to that cousin of yours. A few minutes pass before an older woman emerges to the field. “Children! Children! It’s time for lunch! Come along now!” Another woman comes to invite you inside, so you follow after them into a room where they’re serving soup and loaves of bread. You watch children as old as fifteen to as young as three line up one after another. It’s both sad and heartwarming to see so many sparkling eyes in hunger-pane frames. “Today’s food was given to us by Miss Arden and Mr. Min, can everyone give a big thank you?” There’s a chorus of ‘thank you’s throughout the room and toothless grins from boys and girls. When a woman struggles with carrying a box inside, Taehyung comes to help and then Yoongi. They’re supplies that you donated out of your own pocket, clothing and some blankets — it’s not much but still better than nothing. “I want more!” A pitched voice of a four year old boy in drab clothes knocks you out of your train of thought and you shift towards him. His friend adamantly shakes his head. “No! ‘Member what Sister Emmy said? You only get one!” You step forward, lips parting but before a single word can escape— “Here you go.” An older girl with soft features and her hair pulled back in a frayed ribbon has spun around with an extended arm. Her loaf of bread is in hand. The boy blinks owlishly at her and she beams. “You can have it.” “Thank you!” He takes it and the two boys run away. “That was very kind of you,” you speak up and she turns around, startled that someone saw. You smile at her, lowering yourself to match her height. “You can have more bread. There should be enough for the next few days.” Her eyes light up. “Really?” You don’t like children much, but this girl seems to be intelligent and mature for her age. “What’s your name?” “Rose, ma’am.” She bows her head awkwardly, rather well-mannered. “Thank you for the food.” “I’m happy to help when I can. Can I ask how old you are?” She counts on her fingers for a moment. “I believe twelve, ma’am, but I’m not sure.” As you frown, she quickly explains, “My mother died when I was young and I’ve never met my father, so I don’t know for certain how old I am….” Her voice becomes quieter and quieter as it goes on and you realize she’s ashamed. “That’s quite alright. I don’t have parents anymore either.” You muster a smile and the corner of her own mouth tugs. It’s pleasant to talk to someone who doesn’t know you, someone who doesn’t have any ulterior motives. “What do you like to do, Rose?” “I don’t do much. But I like to cook! And churn butter. I also like collecting eggs and making milk.” You hum. “How would you like to come back with me and work at the house?” Her eyes open wide, irises practically glistening from the afternoon sunlight coming through the windows. You’re normally not so impulsive, but you have a feeling she’s wasted here in the orphanage where she’ll have to work in a factory soon or get married by fifteen. Your mother always warned you to pick and choose the people around you carefully, and this girl seems trustworthy. Or at least, you can see capability. Taehyung was even younger than she was when he entered the house for the first time. He must’ve been six or seven. His dad worked for the household and so did his dad’s dad — a whole lineage that made it inevitable that Taehyung would follow too. Rose comes home with you three hours later. You take it that this kind of affair customarily doesn’t happen so quickly judging by the head lady there being overwhelmed by the generous offer of taking the girl. But the process was most likely sped up considering your well-known status and Rose’s enthusiasm at the promise of a private room, food each day, and a high pay at the end of every month. She was more than happy and practically begging the woman she knew well to let her go. And the woman was happy too — even thanking you for giving her a home. You’re not sure if it’s much of a home. But it’s yours. “This is...enormous.” Rose gasps as her eyes lay upon the manor, lugging her small case of belongings by her side. “I-I mean, thank you, ma’am. I will work very hard!” Your lips tickle into a small smile. “I’m glad.” The three of you enter and she gawks at the place. “Taehyung will show you where you’ll stay in the maid’s quarters and what will be expected of you. I’ll give you time to settle yourself, so don’t worry about anything for now.” “Thank you, ma’am!” “It’s right this way.” He guides and she tottles after him. You sigh softly with a smile as you watch the pair. He was amused when you told him that you wanted to take her home and he followed your instructions without much protest. Hopefully Taehyung will let her know that you’re not keen on being called ma’am or madam. You’re about to retire to your room, but you’re stopped on your way by Jane. She fiddles with her fingers nervously. “Miss, um, there’s, uh…” “What is it?” “There’s a guest in the parlor. He came about an hour or two ago and he insisted on staying until you came home.” You hold in your sigh, wondering why it’s so hard to take a rest these days. “From now on, do not allow anyone inside the house when I am not here unless said otherwise.” She flinches at your tone and dips her head. “Yes, my lady.” You make your way to the room to find out who this uninvited guest is, and your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the backside of an unfamiliar man. He’s dressed in a sack coat with a matching waistcoat and black trousers. He must hear your footsteps since he turns around and instantly gets up, jaw gone slack. “You must be Y/N,” he murmurs in awe. “You’re even more beautiful in person.” The man comes to you and takes the back of your hand, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You eye him the entire time. “And you are…?” “Oh, I apologize, I hadn’t realized I didn’t introduce myself.” He takes off his top hat and presses it to his chest. “I am Mark Carter. I believe your uncle may have spoken about me previously.” You vaguely remember something about meeting his friend’s son, but you can’t quite pinpoint the details. Your expression remains stoic and unimpressed. “Is that so?” “It’s an honour to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” You guessed this would have happened, but you didn’t know it would come so soon. Being the head of the Arden Household and unmarried at that, it’s only natural that others will come after you. It would be wise of you to consider it as well — the only way you can collect the temporary inheritance is through your husband. But as silly and naive as it might be, you want to marry for love and not convenience. And it’s the one thing you won’t allow yourself to give up on. “Like what?” “Pardon?” “What have you heard about me?” Mark clears his throat. “Well, I have heard that you are as intelligent as your father and as beautiful as your mother, no less than a red rose blossoming in the morning dew of spring. And I must say, those rumours do not do you justice, Miss Y/N. You far exceed any poetry that could possibly be waxed.” The corner of your mouth curls in amusement. Admittedly, it’s nice to hear such bold and blatant compliments once in a while, even if they are exaggerated and likely crafted by your uncle. “While I am wholly flattered, Mr. Carter, is this what you came here to tell me?” The man’s posture straightens. “I came to ask permission to court you.” You nearly choke on your own spit. You’re taken aback at the man’s shamelessness, not sure if he’s dimwitted or simply brave. “Meaning?” “I would like to send you letters every so often if you grant me permission and perhaps if you’d be inclined to take strolls with me.” You’re not sure how to answer or what to say, but you’re starting to feel your impassive expression crumble. You muse it’s impressive your uncle found someone as overbearing and insistent as he is. “Can I ask why you want to send me letters? We’ve never met before.” “Actually, we have,” he says and blinks. “At your father’s charity function two years ago.” You scour your mind, but you can’t recall. Every charity function you attended, you just remember sneaking out food for Taehyung and sitting together outside looking at the stars. Mark reads your expression as he realizes that you can’t remember and his face falls. “It hurts me that you can’t remember the encounter but no matter.” He suddenly takes your hands and you lean back to create more distance. “If you let me, Miss Y/N, I promise you that you will not be disappointed.” “Mr. Carter—” “I have not been able to forget you since that night.” You wonder why he didn’t look for you sooner then if he felt so passionately about an encounter you can’t even remember. But before you can ask, he comes closer to you, forcing you to take a step back. “If you give me a chance, I will grant your every wish.” He’s crowding you, intruding in your space, larger than you are. Your mouth parts, trying to utter out a word, but it’s not necessary. A looming shadow comes over Mark, draping him away from the light. It’s Taehyung with a menacing expression — his lips drawn together, eyes practically burning holes. He grabs the back of the man’s coat collar and yanks him away from you, finally giving you space to breathe. “Please do not lay a hand on her ladyship, good sir.” “W-Who’re you?!” Mark looks between you and Taehyung as if expecting you’ll tell him to leave him be. But you don’t move whatsoever. Your butler offers the man a stiff smile that has your own mouth curling upwards. “Uninvited guests are no longer permitted in the Arden estate. The maid that you let in was inexperienced. A mistake like that will never happen again. So unfortunately, you will have to leave now until you receive a proper invitation.” “Wait!” You stifle back a laugh when Taehyung physically picks him up, nearly throwing him over his shoulder. The man struggles and his cries echo throughout the manor as he’s taken away, “Put me down! Stop! You idiot! You’ll hear from my father about this! How dare you!” Taehyung throws him out of the estate and you’re finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. When he comes back, he dusts off his hands with a more pleased expression. “What would you like for dinner, mistress?” // The next time someone visits, it’s not uninvited. “Who are you?” Jane has stopped in the middle of her path, duster in hand and scrutinizing the doe-eyed male in the foyer. His brow lifts at the girl, but before he can come up with an answer, Taehyung appears from the corridor. “Right this way, sir.” The man in his coat nods and walks away, yet the maid is still curious. Her eyes follow the stranger’s form and she murmurs to Taehyung, “But who is he?” “Her lady’s affairs don’t affect you,” he coldly deadpans. “It would be better to attend to your duties than ask questions.” “M-My apologies, Butler Kim.” Jane dips her head and turns around, but she still steals a glance over her shoulder with a pout and a huff escaping through her nose. Taehyung comes inside the study to find you and Detective Jeon going through what he’s found. “I looked into Park Jimin like you asked me to.” “What did you find?” Detective Jeon flips open copies of documents. “He was born and raised right here in Lennox, never stepped foot outside of Trulia. His parents are immigrants from the East, still married and living together on the West side of the city in a tenement. His father worked in a landscaping company and his brother, three years older than he is, is a wagon craftsman.” You go through the papers and sigh after a moment. It doesn’t seem like he’s the one you’re looking for. Well, you suppose you’ve ruled out at least one possibility. “He’s as boring as they get,” the detective says. “But I did find something...peculiar.” “What is it?” “That man you wanted me to search for, the one who came to the funeral, I think I might have found where he is.” Detective Jeon hands you another worn folder from his briefcase and you eagerly untie the string to look at the pages inside. “An intern at your father’s company actually spoke to him briefly and I found the inn he was staying at in Lennox. Spoke to the lady there and went to the train station. I have a connection with someone who manages the books and they found a train ticket. There’s more to it, but I won’t bore you.” His name is Arthur Kahl. There are small details of him written, how he’s in his fifties, where he lives and a drawing of him sits amongst the documents. Your brows furrow. This is him — there’s no doubt about it. “He’s an artisan. A woodworker,” Detective Jeon tells you. “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar, but he grew up here in Lennox.” Your eyes flicker up to Taehyung and then the detective. “Thank you for this.” He offers a smile. “It’s all in a day's work.” Shortly after, Detective Jeon is escorted out by the butler. His eyes are perceptive but his senses are even more keen. He takes a glance at the taller man. “Your name is Kim Taehyung, right?” Taehyung’s brow quirks. “I think you already know the answer to that.” Detective Jeon boyishly smiles. “Is it alright if I ask a question? It might be intrusive.” “Then don’t ask.” “But see, I’m much too curious.” His steps slow while the two men come outside where it’s harder to eavesdrop. They stop on the front path of the manor leading towards the gates. “It might be the reason why I ended up in this line of work. Can’t give up on something once it’s in my head. I just have to know.” There’s a pause. Then, he doesn’t hesitate any longer. “Do you perhaps fancy Miss Y/N?” Detective Jeon’s doe eyes sparkle in the sunlight. It’s a subtlety that can only be noticed through careful observation. But he’s seen it — through the way you allow the butler to stay in every private conversation divulging the secret details of your family. How he always knows what you want without you needing to speak a single word. You’re in rhythm with one another and always taking glances when the other person isn’t looking. Jungkook has seen many things. But never a master and servant so close to each other. “That is an intrusive question.” Taehyung’s expression remains impassive. “My devotion goes beyond such kinds of frivolous and fickle emotions.” His mouth quirks. “Why don’t you do anything about it then?” “It’s not my place. I merely grant her wishes and fulfill my necessary duties.” “So you’re holding yourself back on purpose?” “That’s enough questions.” Butler Kim continues walking. “You’re a detective. If you’re that curious, I’m sure you can figure it out.” “You’re right.” Detective Jeon grins, led out the gates, yet he turns around one last time. “But if you’re willing to do anything for your mistress, would you kill for her?” His expression hardens while Jungkook flashes another smile. It’s not the kind of question that is waiting for an answer, so the other merely walks off, down the path and away from the estate. // You’ve only ever left Trulia twice in your life. Once on a family outing when you were five or six and another time for just a few days when you were accompanying your father on a business trip. You’ve never had the chance to see much outside of this country and it’s a wish that you never spoke to anyone before but Taehyung. There was simply never a chance for you to go. And while you expected your next journey out of Trulia would be an adventure and perhaps seeing new sights, you suppose this is a good excuse as well. “Can you please pack another dress? I don’t want to run out when I’m there.” Rose enthusiastically nods and goes to your wardrobe to pick another gown. While Taehyung is the one who would ever pack your suitcases, you don’t want to rely on him too much. He was already preparing the rest of the things for the trip and Rose seemed more than happy to help. “The blue one will be fine.” She nods and folds it into the case as you look over the gloves. “How long will you be going for, miss?” “A few days.” You look up at the twelve year old and the corner of your mouth tugs. “You’ll watch the house for me? I don’t want any roaches to crawl in while I’m away.” Her head bobs up and down. “I’ll try my best, my lady.” You smile, noticing Jane looking into the room. She realizes you’ve seen her and clears her throat. “Do you need any help, my lady?” “No, I’m fine, thank you.” It’s nerve-racking to leave the estate and Trulia. You trust that a few days won’t bring things into chaos, especially considering that you’ve kept your affairs discreet. But underlying the unsettlement is a buzz of excitement — that just for a short while, you can escape. You feel that way even a day later when you’re at the train platform. And whatever you were afraid of is washed away with Taehyung by your side. “Stand right here. I’ll only be a moment,” he tells you, holding your tickets to Colmar and you nod. Your hand grips the suitcase as you overlook the bustle of people. You’ve never seen so many gathered in one place before, families and lovers parting ways, children rushing past, the conductor quickly pacing to the front of the platform. It’s dizzying to look at and overwhelming to be in. You wonder if you look out of place in the mass of people. You chose to wear a white dress with a natural silhouette, a bustle pad underneath and a bonnet around your half pinned-up hair. It’s modest attire, but the threads are still expensive. The last thing you would want is to attract needless attention and that’s why you made Taehyung wear a normal white waistcoat and black frock coat with matching trousers than his usual stiff tailcoat. He looks rather nice in normal clothing anyhow. As you think about Taehyung, you start to search the crowd. The red and black painted train whistles, smoke coming from its chimney. It looks like it’s about to leave soon, but you’re not sure if you should go in or where you would even sit or put your luggage. It’s been so long since you’ve been on a train, you don’t know what to do. The endless questions and uncertainty drains blood from your face and you start to panic. Until Taehyung comes into sight. “What took you so long.” You frown at him but he still has the audacity to smile. “My apologies, I had to check if we were at the right platform. Let’s go.” He takes your suitcase and offers his arm which you take. Taehyung keeps you from being swallowed by the thick crowd and pushed back. His height looms over even most men and although his stature is lean, he remains steady. Once you’re at the doors, he puts down the cases and holds your hand to help you up the step and then he resumes by your side, cutting through the passenger cars. The two of you pass the more luxurious sleeping cars and as you peek into the window of the car of commoners, wondering if that’s where you’re heading, he slides open the door of a compartment. It’s a private booth with a large window and a ledge overtop for your suitcases. “Here we are, my lady.” Taehyung organizes your belongings as you sit down on the plush seat. A moment later, the train begins to move, wheels rolling against the rail and then it builds speed to chug along. You watch houses flash past the window. “What do you think?” he asks, sitting opposite of you. “Is it supposed to be so nauseating?” Your head is light and the world is dizzying from the fast motion of the train. Taehyung must see your weakened expression with the way his eyes widen in alarm. But you quickly lift your hand and try to reassure him, “It’s fine.” It isn’t. And he knows it. “We can get off the next station.” “No!” You inhale a deep breath, calming yourself. “We have to go. We have to make it, Taehyung.” You shut your eyes. There’s no way you can turn back now. “It’s probably because I haven’t been sleeping well.” Not when you’re up day and night taking care of what your parents left for you, even if it’s only temporarily. And not when you’re kept awake plagued by the secrets of the people who were supposed to be closest to you. “The herbs in my tea can only do so much.” Suddenly, you feel the seat dip beside you and your eyes flutter open to see Taehyung. He reaches over and gently guides your head to lean on his shoulder. “Then sleep. Don’t think about anything else.” The corner of your mouth curls. “You make it sound so easy.” “I’ll watch over you.” A noise is made at the back of your throat and you allow yourself to mold against Taehyung’s side, your head cradled against the slight slope of his broad shoulder. As you ease, your fingers slowly drag itself over until you graze the back of his hand. No words are needed. No explanations are necessary. Taehyung flips his hand so that his palm faces upwards and his fingers entwine with yours. Within a few minutes, your chest begins to rise and fall, soft breaths escaping your parted lips. Taehyung’s eyes stray from the windows to watch you. You’re cold and blunt, carrying yourself with an intimidating demeanour that either frightens others or causes them to despise you. But he can still see the traces of your childhood self, even if the recent weeks have forced you to harden. Taehyung knows that you’re still sentimental, that you’re affectionate, that you’re not as indifferent as you’d like to be. He knows you’re still grieving for your parents. The two of you grew up together after all. Since young, he’s been told he’s talented for this line of work, but devotion was another matter. He was told that being a butler meant more than just serving — it meant protecting. And he swore his duty to your name that day you took the blame when he stole from the kitchen and you got slapped by your mother. He can still remember your small frame standing in front of him. How your words didn’t waver. Taehyung knew it then and he knows it now — there’s nothing more important than protecting you. His mouth tugs and his eyes lift from your sleeping features, but something catches the edge of his vision. Taehyung looks up to the window of the compartment door and finds a man, blue eyes, blonde hair curled in front of his forehead. The stranger peers into the compartment and when he notices Taehyung’s gaze, he dips his bowler hat as if to shield himself. Taehyung moves. He cradles your head until you’re laying down fully on the seat and he quietly slides the door open. “Excuse me.” Taehyung moves past someone, eyes darted on the man who peeks over his shoulder and quickens his steps. He had seen the man before — earlier on the platform and then again when he left you alone. Taehyung came back right in time. You hadn’t noticed the man behind you at all. Taehyung quickens his steps, stalking after the man who looks over his shoulders once more. His strides hasten. He practically breaks out into a run. Taehyung chases after him as the train curves into a tunnel. The windows are blackened, darkness sweeping throughout the cart. He hears staggering breaths pulling roughly out of lungs and at the same time, the train rushes out the tunnel. Light breaks through the windows again and the steel door at the end of the cart begins to close. Taehyung sees through the tiny gap where panicked eyes meet his own gaze. Taehyung runs. He throws open the door and the cold wind rips through his hair with the intensity of a storm. The wheels shriek against the rail. There’s only a tiny step before one would have to make the jump to the other cart’s door. In between are violently rattling metal links that connect the two carts. “Hah!” There’s a squeak of shoes behind him. Taehyung ducks. The door slams closed. The man’s arm is extended midair, having missed Taehyung’s cheek and within a blink, Taehyung grabs his arm and twists it. The man shouts in agony, teeth gritted. “Why you!” His fist swings and it manages to catch Taehyung’s jaw. He’s knocked back, tasting a surge of coppery blood. Taehyung wheezes, but his lips curl into a smile. He launches himself forward as the man squares himself. An arm swings. Fist curled. Taehyung dodges. Taehyung takes the opportunity, no longer on the defense, and he swiftly strikes. The man stumbles back, air ripped out of his lungs, eye sure to bruise. Taehyung steps forward, but the man grabs something within his coat. “Step back!” Taehyung’s met with the muzzle of a revolver and puts his hands up, calming his breath. The man snorts with a sly smirk. “Yeah that’s right. You’re just a dog.” But then Taehyung's left hand clutches the man’s wrist and he contorts it at an angle, knee coming up to slam into the man’s stomach. Instantly, the man keens and wheezes. He cries out as the revolver crashes onto the links connecting the carts and falls beneath to the rails. Taehyung grabs the man’s collar and holds him backwards, nearly off the train. The man’s eyes become rounded in fear. There’s a storm of verdant in the background, fields and trees darting past. “Who are you?!” “Let go of me! I...I swear, I didn’t want to do this!” “What do you want with her?” Taehyung demands, shaking the man whose head nearly touches the steel rails. The man’s fist curls on Taehyung’s so he doesn’t fall. “Answer the question!” The shout is torn from Taehyung’s throat, his face crumpled into unadulterated anger, jaw clenched. “I-It was her uncle!” the man quickly spits out in fear of his life. “Seokjin! He hired me! He wanted me to kill her!” “So you were planning on putting a bullet through her head?!” “I-I just needed the money! I’m sorry! Please, please,” the man pleads. “You don’t have to do this. W-What has that girl ever done for you? You’re just her guard dog!” Taehyung has a deadpan expression, eyes dim. He begins to release his hold on the man who audibly sighs of relief. “That’s right.” But it’s too soon. “Don’t you know dogs are one of the most loyal animals?” Taehyung grabs the man again as he stands and throws him off the train into the soft meadow. “Woof.” The man’s scream echoes. Taehyung dusts off his hand. He comes back to the compartment to where you’re still sleeping and resumes his spot with your head in his lap, finding a warm blanket to drape over you. Six hours later, you wake up, rubbing your eyes. He smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair in front of your face behind your ear. But your sleepy daze shatters when you see his split lip. Almost immediately, you’re leaning over to Taehyung, grazing the wound with your thumb. He sharply inhales. “What happened?” you demand, worry written all over your face. It hurts to smile, but can’t resist it. He should never admit it — he likes it when your attention is solely on him. “I tripped.” You look at him incredulously. “Taehyung.” “I did.” He doesn’t give up the excuse no matter how much you prod and pry. The train arrives in the town of Colmar shortly after. It’s a quiet place with a certain dryness to the air in spite of the river running through the town and underneath the bridges. The homes are tightly knitted next to one another. It’s a cozy kind of atmosphere. For a moment, you can imagine your mother having spent her life in this place and you’re not certain how to feel. You decide to stay in an inn near the square, dropping off your suitcases in your given room. “We should find him, shouldn’t we?” You turn from the window to Taehyung with an unreadable expression. “We don’t have to,” he says and it’s all too tempting. You want to forget that you’re here looking for your mother’s old lover, that you’re searching for your sibling. You wish you can pretend that this is merely a trip to enjoy with Taehyung in a place far away from Lennox. But even if you were to dream such a thing, the truth would not stop plaguing your mind. You muster the strength to shake your head. “We can enjoy ourselves after. There’s no point in putting it off.” “He’s an artisan. A woodworker.” The detective’s words ring inside your head. “Lives in France, in a town called Colmar.” It should be difficult to find the man — that way you have a legitimate excuse to put this off. You wouldn’t have to confront your parents’ secrets. Or meet a brother or sister you never wanted. “But he grew up here in Lennox.” Yet this town is small and there is only one known woodworker. If such a thing as fate or destiny exists, then it never stops being cruel to you. The bell rings as the door of the shop opens. “Hello there! How can I help you?” There’s an older man behind the counter busy at his shelf, brunette hair and features tender, wrinkles creased around his eyes to mark each smile he’s collected over the years. You come towards him with Taehyung by your side. “You were at my mother’s funeral.” At your murmur, the man turns around wide-eyed. Arthur Kahl, the man your mother loved, who she wanted to marry and be happy with. The father of your sibling. “You’re Hana’s daughter….” His mouth draws open. “Wh-what are you doing here?” “I came to see you. I think you may have answers to my questions.” “I-...I don’t know if I do, but please, sit.” He hobbles to the front of his shop, turning the sign over to not receive any more customers and the both of you sit on wobbly chairs. He knows you came this far, that you searched for him. There’s no other way you could have found him. “I’m sorry I never spoke to you at the funeral. I thought since we didn’t know each other, there was no point in bringing back old memories.” “Is it true then?” You look at him carefully. “About my mother and you running away together…” “That was a very long time ago.” “Then why did you come to see my mother?” “It was a long time ago, but I still wanted to pay my respects. Your mother...was a wonderful woman and treated me kindly. I’m glad she ended up having a good life and a happy family.” The corner of your mouth twitches. He continues, “While I never personally met your father, he seems like a very respectable man and a good husband. I’m truly sorry for your loss.” The words sit uncomfortably in you. Your parents always seemed to treat each other with mutual respect and trust. It was never a passionate affair like pairs you’ve met, but rather a quiet relationship of sitting alongside one another. You never would have guessed your mother had someone else. But you don’t want to know anymore about your mother’s history. “I received my parent’s will a day after their burial.” You inhale a breath, bracing yourself. “And it promised my sibling the estate and the company. I don’t want to harm them. I want to fulfill my parents’ last wishes. So please, allow me to meet my sibling.” Your eyes meet his earnestly. The man stares back at you, his brows knitting together. “My apologies, but I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding. I don't know who your sibling is.” The clock on his shelf ticks loudly. “Your mother and I never consummated our relationship.” // The night sets in, matches hissing into a flame and thrown into the wood in the fireplace until it awakens and paints the room in a warm orange hue. The quietness is deafening outside of the crackle and pop of the fire. You haven’t eaten. You don’t want to. You don’t think you could stomach it. “My apologies.” You’re seated at the rounded table in the chair, motionless. You should’ve never come. You should have just stayed in the estate instead of trying to dig around in the secrets of your family, into the reasons why nothing was left for you, why they didn’t love you even after death. “But I’m afraid there’s a misunderstanding.” You came here for nothing. “I don't know who your sibling is.” Your efforts were worthless. “Your mother and I never consummated the relationship.” There’s an ear-splitting crash that rings the four walls. Taehyung opens the door, eyes darting to you. You’re hyperventilating, clutching the handle of your suitcase, all your belongings fallen on the ground beside the wall. You toss the case aside with a frustrated cry. He calmly shuts the door before anyone in the inn can pry and closes the distance in two strides. “It’s okay.” He opens his arms and he engulfs your quivering frame. You grasp onto him, your hands twisting into his white shirt. “I-I don’t know what to do, Taehyung. I...I really thought I had it. I was preparing myself—” You were preparing yourself to meet your sibling. To confront it all. For once, you were ready. The frustration cripples you blind and angers you. How much longer will you be left in the dark? How much longer do you have to look like the fool, a child fumbling in her parent’s history searching for the truth? Why did they do this to you? Why? “You can cry,” Taehyung murmurs. And tears finally slip from your eyes to stain his shoulder. If it wasn’t for him, if he wasn’t here, you might have lost your mind by now.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung au #bts au #taehyung writing #taehyung series #taehyung scenario #bts scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #ooOoooOOoH LET'S GO

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mimisempai · 2 years ago

Text

You’re my Christmas miracle

Summary

Mycroft and Greg find themselves stuck in the same airport because of the weather. They don't know each other, but fate will bring them together. Can a love story be built on a few hours spent together thanks to a twist of fate?

Notes

Because it's the season and they deserve their own Hallmark movie. Take this as a Christmas gift in thanks for the love I've received through kudos and comments since I joined this fandom at the beginning of the year. Thank you !! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

On AO3

Rating G - 2763 words

Mycroft could rage against the airline that didn't want to take any risk, against the bad weather and even against this damned conference, but he knew he wouldn't change anything, he was stuck in the airport coffee shop and it was better that he made this night of waiting productive, the Christmas Eve being now definitely compromised. He had already called his mother and his ears were still burning from her protests and reproaches. He took another sip of his coffee and told himself that at least he had been lucky enough to have a place of choice, that is to say, a comfortable seat and especially equipped with outlets for phone and computer.

He was not the only one. He had seen another man arriving hurriedly at the same time as him, who had seemed at least as relieved as Mycroft to find a seat similar to his own.

No, Mycroft had absolutely not noticed him because of his sparkling eyes, of his devastating smile, nor because of his disheveled gray hair which gave him a charming air. He had especially not noticed him because of his legs highlighted by a jean as sewn on him.

After an hour Mycroft found it amusing that although they didn't speak to each other, they shared a kind of bond, displaying the same facial expressions when a child was too noisy or when a customer expressed his displeasure too loudly. Mycroft began to think in an absolutely absurd way that he had a connection with the man. And even more absurdly, he found himself wanting to actually create this connection, but he thought about the circumstances, the "ifs" and the "hows" and decided to forget about it. After all, since when did Mycroft approach strangers out of nowhere?

So he concentrated on his computer screen and worked on his current cases. He was in the middle of a particularly arduous file when an old lady entered the coffeeshop, desperately looking for a place to charge her phone -since when did old people have cell phones- and try to contact her family. She went painfully from table to table, exhaustion visible on her face. Mycroft, sighing, was about to get up and offer her his place when he saw that the gray-haired man had beaten him to it and was offering with a kind smile to the old lady to take his place. He went so far as to help her to settle down and only left with her things once he was sure that everything was fine for the old lady.

Although he was known as the IceMan, there was nothing icy about the way Mycroftse felt about the man's gratuitous kindness. However, he surprised himself when he called out to him as he walked to the cash register.

The man turned and looked for the source of the voice. When his eyes fell on Mycroft, he beckoned him over. He looked surprised - pleasantly surprised, Mycroft hoped - and a big smile appeared on his face, showing the dimples Mycroft was already drawn to.

As he approached, Mycroft could see that he was even more attractive up close.

"Hey," the man simply said to him as he reached Mycroft's table. His voice was soft and slightly amused. It matched perfectly with what Mycroft had imagined.

"I thought maybe you could sit here and we could share this prized possession," Mycroft told him as he pointed to the electrical outlets. Then he held out his hand and said, "Mycroft Holmes."

The man took Mycroft's hand in a firm grip and shaking it, he replied, "Gregory Lestrade, but call me Greg." Somehow his fingers seemed to graze Mycroft's wrist for a moment, their hands lingering as their gaze remained fixed. "Thank you for your generosity."

Mycroft was the first to break their eye contact as he bent down to slide his luggage out, making room for Greg's as he sat down across from him. The man also pulled out his laptop and placed it on the table, but he didn't turn it on, and Mycroft didn't feel like going back to his own projects when he had the other man in front of him.

"So, Mycroft," Greg began with a smile that was far too charming for Mycroft's peace of mind, " May I offer you a cup of coffee as a way of thanking you?"

"With pleasure, Greg."

Greg's eyes lit up and Mycroft denied any feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

A feeling he found hard to deny as it grew in the hours that followed.

It was true that when one was in good company, one did not see the time pass, because the time flew by with Greg.

His companion was funny and witty and Mycroft didn't know if what amazed him most was the way Greg showed his emotions so openly, the way they talked as if they had known each other all their lives, or the way Greg touched him so easily when he punctuated his words, with a squeeze of his hand or arm. Or now that Greg had slid in beside him so they didn't have to talk loudly, the way he would touch his thigh or press his head against him when he laughed loudly.

They spent the whole time discussing movies, literature, the boring conferences they had both been to, all the while commenting on the customers that passed through the café. It was honestly one of the best evenings Mycroft had spent since... he couldn't even remember ever having such a good time.

Greg joked that their encounter was worthy of a Hallmark movie and Mycroft found himself thinking the same thing as time went on.

After the coffee shop closed, they stayed together and tacitly made their way to an empty waiting room with lounge chairs and blankets. In the half-light, they brought the chairs closer together and, lying down and covering themselves, they continued to talk, tackling more personal subjects, feeling, without really understanding why, more and more at ease with each other.

Greg spoke about his lack of self-confidence as he was about to start in a few days as a detective at Scotland Yard, about his not always happy childhood between an unloving father and his mother who left too early. About his marriage that had ended badly. But he also spoke happily about his sister and his niece whom he obviously adored. About his passion for his work and doing something that counts. In response Mycroft spoke of his eccentric brother, his distant relationship with his parents, his work, or at least what he was allowed to disclose.

They both spoke of their loneliness and the lack of a permanent relationship. Then, without realizing it, Mycroft had fallen asleep.

He was awakened by a brushing sensation on his forehead and a small pressure on his shoulder as his companion said softly, "Mycroft...wake up."

The smell of coffee that reached his nostrils finished awakening him. He looked at his watch, shocked that he had slept for an hour. He had never let his guard down like that, let alone with someone he had just met. It spoke volumes about how quickly his feelings for his new friend were developing.

He straightened up in his chair and took the steaming mug Greg handed him, smiling gently.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went to get us this."

Mycroft asked, surprised, "You've been awake this whole time?"

Greg nodded his head.

Mycroft smiled and said appraisingly, "You really are like a guardian angel, first the old lady you gave up your place to, then you offer me coffee and you watch over my sleep."

"The sight was enjoyable," Greg replied, deflecting, clearly embarrassed to be complimented. Then he added teasingly, "But the snoring was quite unbearable."

"What?! But I don't snore-" He stopped when he saw Greg burst out laughing and Mycroft joined in.

"The flight XXX to Cardiff Airport will be boarding in 30 min, please proceed to the boarding gate "

"Flight XXX to Bristol Airport will be boarding in 45 minutes, please proceed to the gate".

All traces of joy disappeared from both their faces as their laughter disappeared because it was their respective flights that had just been announced. At the same time, they began to put their things away, put their coats back on, and found themselves face to face, unable to say a word, unable to make a gesture. Unable to take their eyes off each other.

Greg was the first to break contact as he glanced at their belongings. "I can watch your stuff if you want to go to the bathroom."

Mycroft took the opportunity to gather his thoughts and agreed.

Since he was there, he used the time to freshen up while he debated what to do. Greg was adorable, attractive, funny, and smart. Not perfect no, but perfect for Mycroft, if he was honest with himself. They both lived in London, so distance wouldn't be a problem. However, Mycroft had never really had a lasting relationship, because he felt that the nature of his work prevented him from doing so, but Greg almost made him believe that it could be possible.

He looked in the mirror and laughed at himself, there was nothing between them and he was already planning their life together. He didn't even know if Greg was interested in him. He, the king of control, was considering a relationship with someone he had only known for a few hours.

But he was having a hard time ignoring that feeling of what if... what if he too had a right to happiness and he let it pass.

Was it worth taking a chance? Was Greg worth taking a risk, this time completely uncalculated?

Mycroft didn't need to think long to know the answer. The answer was yes.

Determined, Mycroft took out one of the business cards he always had with him and a pen. He scribbled down his personal number and hesitated a bit before adding, "Call me."

When Mycroft arrived at the entrance of the waiting room, he saw that Greg was sitting and staring at his phone, looking slightly downcast, this made Mycroft's heart beat with the hope that maybe Greg was in the same state of mind as him.

When he saw him, Greg smiled, not as brightly as before, but sincere nonetheless. He stood up, waiting for Mycroft to join him.

The speaker called again for the passengers to join their flights.

They came closer, both clearly hesitating, neither of them wanting to say the words that would end their encounter.

Then Greg muttered, "Oh geez..." then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Mycroft, pulling him close.

Mycroft, surprised, froze at first, then exhaled in relief as he wrapped his arms around Greg.

Greg murmured against his chest, "Merry Christmas Mycroft."

"Merry Christmas Greg." Mycroft slipped the card into Greg's coat pocket, then they stepped back and it was all over.

Mycroft turned to pick up his luggage and grabbed his laptop bag off his shoulder and his carry-on from the floor. Greg had done the same. He danced from one foot to the other, hesitating. He was adorable. This filled Mycroft with a ridiculous surge of confidence and before he could think about it, he brushed his mouth over the other man's in a chaste kiss.

"Goodbye, Greg."

As he walked away, he couldn't help but take one last look back to see that Greg was still looking at him and had brought his fingers to the lips Mycroft had just kissed.

Mycroft refrained from running towards him and continued to walk. But the more the distance between them grew, the more he felt his confidence disappear like a cloud of smoke. He tried not to think about the other man as he crossed the airport. He tried not to wonder if Greg would call him and, if so, when. Finally, he found his seat and put his things away. He was just getting comfortable when his phone started to vibrate.

-Look in the front pocket of your laptop bag. G.

It was an unknown number. But the 'G' told him right away who it was. He did as the message asked and was surprised to find a tiny package. Inside was a small Christmas angel made of porcelain. Mycroft had compared Greg to an angel just before so Greg had probably bought this at the gift store next to the waiting room while Mycroft was in the bathroom.

There was a small tag attached to the angel's neck, it had some words scribbled on it, Mycroft looked closer. "This way you'll remember me." Mycroft felt the butterflies return. He grabbed his phone and called the number. As soon as he picked it up, he couldn't even get a word in.

"So we can talk before our planes take off? And maybe plan an evening where I can take you to dinner when we're both back in London? In four or five days? As soon as you get back. Unless you'd rather wait-"

"Greg!"

"Huh? What?"

"Breathe..."

Mycroft smiled at the sound of the embarrassed laughter on the other end of the phone and then reassured Greg that yes, they could meet. Absolutely. Without a doubt. The conversation was lighthearted and full of the anticipation of seeing each other again, of having another date - a real first date, something they both wanted. They talked for nearly half an hour before Mycroft's flight was about to depart. Greg promised he would text Mycroft when he landed and Mycroft promised to do the same.

As they hung up, they both thought that their meeting was truly worthy of a Hallmark movie

**********

One year later

Mycroft and Greg were sitting comfortably on a couch together watching the snow fall outside their London apartment. Greg was lying down, his head in Mycroft's lap. One of Mycroft's hands was resting on his hip, while the other was buried in his disheveled gray hair.

Greg sighed in contentment and murmured, "We couldn't have settled like this a year ago."

Mycroft chuckled softly, "Well, I wouldn't have let you."

Greg continued, "A real Christmas wonder, wasn't it?"

He straightened up a bit until he was almost sitting on Mycroft's lap, his arms around his neck and Mycroft's around his waist. He kissed him lightly.

"It really was." whispered Mycroft kissing Greg back.

Nothing could be more true. For a long time Mycroft had resigned himself to ending up alone. But a year ago fate had put this man in his path and what he thought was impossible had become his daily life.

He no longer had to look for reasons to work even more because all that awaited him was a cold apartment. Now he couldn't wait to get home.

Life with Greg was so easy. It was like they both clicked. Each bringing the other the part they were missing. There was only one thing left.

Three words that Mycroft had yet to say.

Three words that he felt.

Three words that he longed to say.

Greg snapped him out of his thoughts by saying, with a small smile on his lips, "You also got a little gift in addition to the Christmas miracle."

"You mean this little trinket?"

Greg retorted with a knowing look, "This little trinket that's on your desk. I think you might love it a little if you leave this angel where everyone can see it."

Mycroft replied casually, "It's the one who slipped it into my pocket that I love, actually."

Greg stiffened a little before pulling back to meet Mycroft's gaze, "... You...?"

"Yes." Mycroft swallowed once and repeated clearly, "I love you, Gregory Lestrade."

Greg's smile widened and he kissed Mycroft, pulling back only to say, "I love you too" before kissing Mycroft again. Mycroft smiled into the kiss, holding Greg tightly against him. When they separated to catch their breath, Greg snuggled up to him and sighed happily.

Mycroft tightened his arms around him and kissed his hair gently.

As he looked at the angel atop their Christmas tree, their first, if possible the first of many to come, he thought about tomorrow and the gifts he had prepared for Greg, the joy that would light up his lover's face and probably his own as well.

Then he thought that he had already received his best Christmas present, and that was the man he was holding in his arms and the new life he had granted him.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

#mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #mycroft x greg #some fluff as always #sherlock bbc #emotional hurt/comfort #getting together #first meeting

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